“We can talk about it,” he said, at last. “But I don't–”
“I know,” Ariel said. “We come from very different worlds. I've long since accepted this.”
“Well, at least there's that,” he loved being on Earth. The busy streets, especially in the dark, were memorizing. The cars whizzed by, people spoke on their phones, and the world seemed simpler and easier. “We can go out for a few drinks if you want. We should celebrate your success, in any case. You stole the show.”
“I was in the chorus!” she protested. “That's the problem with musical theater. It doesn't matter if you were a prima donna in the ballet company; you are in the chorus of the theater unless you can dance and act.”
“You can't dance ballet forever,” he said, and she shrugged.
“I know,” she replied. “And I know I'm already older than most of the dancers out there. Musical theater is a last-ditch effort. Maybe I should learn to act; it can't be that hard.”
“I could waive my hand,” he said, indicating his magic. “One director will lead to another, and they will all be convinced you're a rising star in that regard.”
“No,” she said. “I was a prima ballerina on my own, and if this is my path, I'll figure it out.”
“My independent queen,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “So many people would take that offer and never look back.”
“So many of them are weak,” Ariel answered. “Are you actually hungry?”
“No,” he said, as he scoured the landscape.
“Right, it's not Wednesday, is it?” she said it off hand, but Alexander caught it anyway, squeezing her hand. It was the other thing he hid – his issues with food. He was almost afraid of his dragon form and of the impulses that came with it. Dragons ate other creatures relentlessly, gorging sometimes. Cole was particularly bad for it, as he was never satisfied. But Alexander liked to be in control of everything: his words, his clothes, his situation, and his food. He ate once a week on Wednesdays. Wednesdays were the days Ariel returned to the theater, and Tuesday nights were when he pulled her closest, pushing the dragon hunger away. “Drinks it is then,” she said, taking his hand. “Come on. For one night, you're not the king. You're just mine.”
Chapter 2
When Ariel awoke, she knew it was barely dawn. She was surprised it was dawn, frankly. Sometimes, Alexander didn't even wait for the sunrise to get up, showering and dressing and looking like he hadn't just done unspeakable things to her until it was nearly morning. The few times she had gotten him drunk enough to throw up, unused to how humans tolerated alcohol, he even threw up neatly and cleanly, returning to bed without a spot of noise.
He had been drunk last night, she knew that. He had touched her more, reaching for her in the middle of the night like she was a teddy bear. Their father hadn't been kind to them, lashing out physically when they weren't in compliance with what he wanted. None of the princes were easy to trust, to hug, or to touch, unless their inhibitions were lowered. Cole, the youngest brother, had received the lesser of the troubles, and Ariel supposed that's why he had a happy marriage right now.
This morning, though, Alexander showed no signs of trauma, his suit back on, his hair perfectly styled.
“Are you awake?” he asked. “We should go.”
“Ugh,” she swung her arm out. “Go ahead and do it.”
“Ariel,” he smirked. “Do you really want to arrive in the throne room without any clothes on?”
“Do you want me to?” she rolled over, a grin on her face. “Why are you going straight to the throne room? You don't need to work this early.”
“I do,” he said. “So, as adorable as you look, can you get dressed?”
“Bah,” she groaned, crawling out of bed. But she had the night go her way, so she supposed she should let him set the schedule this morning. She made sure he got an eyeful as she found her clothes, struggling to put them on and make herself presentable. “Are you doing throne duty or something?”
“No,” he answered. “Not that I know of.”
“Oh, my God,” she shook her head. “If we weren't married, could I turn up in the throne room whenever I want?”
“If we weren't married,” he was quick to answer. “You would not be in the throne room.”
“What?” that answer stopped her. “At all?”
“You aren't a dragon, Ariel,” he responded.
“But no one knows we are married now!” she protested. It scared her, because that was her back up plan. She knew she couldn't dance forever, and she didn't know how to do anything else. Sitting beside Alexander and living a life of luxury suited her; she knew he was addicted to her. But this was the first time she realized she might lose everything she had come to know.
“I know,” he said calmly. She sank on the bed, trying to reconcile.
“So, do you not want to go?” she said. He held out his hand.
“I gave my word. And you know that I don't go back on my word.”
She took it wordlessly, putting her other hand on her purse.
“Go on then,” she said, having made this trip half a hundred times.
It took a huge amount of magic to bring her back to his world. Each time it got harder. He had to constantly fight to overturn her carapace abilities, and even as the dragon king, he could only do it about once a week. She knew one day, as she got stronger and older, she would be stuck in one destination or the other.
She hadn't thought about which one that would be yet. But whichever it was, she hadn't considered that a divorce would cut him out of her life. She wondered if a normal marriage was easier or harder.
Alexander grunted as he forced the magic through her. He was one of the only ones who could do it. She felt the hard marble floor rush up under her, and she landed with a grunt.
“I'm sorry,” he said, as soon as his head was clear. “That was more difficult than I imagined.”
“No kidding,” she looked around at her surroundings. They were in one of the private rooms off the throne room, an entrance chamber that had a history of hundreds of years. It always felt so odd to her, to be here in a place where Alexander's blood had run a thousand years, if not more. She belonged to nowhere–she had no home, no place where she could see her family or walk in their footsteps. But he knew nothing but memories and family life. “Let's just stay here. It's quiet.”
“In another life, perhaps,” he said, getting up and then pulling her along. “I’m going to make sure my brothers haven't burned the place down while I was gone. I assume you'd like to go to your room and freshen up?”
“I can do that,” she said. “But Alexander, I do want to talk about...you know, what I mentioned, while I'm here.”
He sighed. “It is a big deal for you, isn't it?”
“It is,” she said, although she didn't want to push the topic. “I feel like a fraud, Alexander.”
He understood that, as he understood everything about her. It was an odd position to be in, and not one he could speak to anyone about. She thought that their relationship would sustain if their marriage did not, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that.
“We will find some time to speak about it. I promise,” he said before walking away.
Ariel checked her reflection in the mirror on the wall and decided that she looked presentable enough to wander through the palace. All she needed when she came here was her purse; everything else was kept for her. It was the closest thing to having a home that she could ever imagine.
The palace was bustling with activity as it always was. The dragon lords were the top of the hierarchy here, controlling an entire planet of various types of shifters. It had been surprisingly easy to swallow when she first found out about their existence and her place in it all.
Being a wife didn't suit her though, even if Alexander claimed freedom. She liked being a queen, and she wouldn't trade that for anything, but she still felt an obligation to him that weighed heavily on her soul. She wasn't in love with him; they
didn't believe in love. So, what was she doing?
“Precious!” she heard Nicholas' voice and turned around with a smile. He had always loved her, from the moment they first met. Nicholas had been in a rage, and Ariel had simply shrugged and smiled. Her lack of judgment in a world full of it had made him her loyal servant. The middle brother had always been emotional and difficult to control. But Ariel had never found him to be anything but charming. She was kind to him, giving him her undivided attention and complimenting his bad boy ways. In return, he made sure his sister-in-law was never wronged or so much as unhappy. “You're here!”
“Of course,” she said. “It's Monday morning, isn't it? I'm always here then.” Even saying that made her clench her jaw. Not only was she at Alexander's side, she had a routine with him.
“Yes,” he wrapped her up in a hug. “But sometimes, you come on Sunday nights. You didn't come last night.”
She switched to the dragon tongue so that his words wouldn't be so stilted.
“No, your brother and I had a bit of a party,” she replied, with a smile. “What's new and exciting?”
“Same old, same old,” he answered with a shrug. As they walked through the palace, people bowed to him and possibly to her. He took no notice, for it had been happening all his life. She smiled, however, enjoying the attention. “Cole and Enya are on Earth until tonight, I think.”
Cole's human wife, Enya, was his perfect match. Innocent to his mischief, weak to his strong, he had devoted his whole life to loving her, protecting her, and fueling her otherwise dying body with healing magic a few times a week. He couldn't cure her. The magic couldn't change the defects in the cells, but he could heal the damage it did whenever she felt ill. They were happy being married, devoted to each other, and living a double life between here and Earth. She was in school, studying to be a translator, and he happily took her down whenever she had class.
“So, no little brother to watch over? I have you all to myself?” she teased.
“You do,” he grinned. “What trouble do you want to get up to?”
“Hmm. I'll have to think on that,” she replied. “To be honest, I was actually hoping for a relaxing few days off.”
“Boring,” he answered, and she shrugged.
“Or we could burn the palace down. I think that's what Alexander was going to investigate”
“You are queen, my dear,” he said. “You can do whatever you wish, and I, as a loyal prince, will have to follow.”
“Yes,” she said, surveying the ballroom. It was her favorite place, especially when it was empty. She loved to take over the marble floors, dancing through routines she only dreamed of trying. The fact that it was currently empty was tempting.
Nicholas picked up on it, laying a hand on her shoulder.
“I'll be back,” he said, wanting to take care of some business.
She hardly noticed he was gone, the music already playing in her head. Ariel bent down to take off her shoes, imagining her first few choreographed steps all the way to a grand finale.
She spun, she leapt, and she threw her arms out and pushed her body through the motions. She knew that she shouldn't be dancing without stretching first, but she couldn't help it in such a beautiful room.
She was so wrapped up in the music in her head that she didn't notice when a man suddenly stepped in front of her. They collided full on, and Ariel went flying backwards.
She rolled as she had been taught to do, but it wasn't without a few swear words.
“What the fuck?” she said, as she sat up. “What is wrong with you?”
She said it in English, but the man standing in front of her looking equally startled was clearly a dragon. He had the same tall build and the same yellow eyes that flashed with emotion.
“Hello?” she repeated, in dragon lore. “Who are you? You're not supposed to be in here.”
He raised his chin.
“Are you authorized to be in the hall of the royals?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied, standing up. She didn't like being talked down to. “I don't know what rock you've been living under, but I am Ariel, and I sit on the dragon queen's throne.”
The man's face changed.
“Beside who?”
“Beside Alexander, dragon king? Who do you think?”
“Alexander is king?” he asked, in shock. “Father is dead?”
Chills went down her spine as he spoke.
“Who are you?” she asked, her voice losing emotion. Her stomach knew the answer before he even responded. She could see the resemblance now, although she wanted to deny it.
“I am Peter,” he replied. “And if Father is dead, then I am king of the dragons.”
Chapter 3
“You're dead,” Ariel said, staring right at him. She didn't know what else to say, aside from the fact that it was clearly a lie. He was standing right in front of her, and she could feel her carapace effects sucking the magic out of him. He didn't seem to notice though as he looked around.
“Where are my brothers?” he asked, and she quirked a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
“You used to live here. I'm sure you can find them,” she said.
“Find my brothers,” he repeated.
“Um, no, you don't give orders to me,” she answered. He glared at her, and she tensed. He may be a dragon lord, but she had control over his magic. Either one of them could do significant damage to the other if they wanted. Ariel didn't let people hurt her; she didn't let people take control of her. It was a wall she had built from a young age, and it wasn't about to fall just because someone had startled her. “Find them yourself.”
She was still trying to figure out how it was possible that he was standing there. Peter had disappeared into the Other–the black magic that dragon souls were absorbed into when they died. The key word there was died, as in didn't come back into their bodies. Their bodies were wrapped in magic as their souls fluttered onwards. Reforming was not something that she had heard of. Given the way Alexander talked about it, she was sure reforming was not something that he expected either.
They could have stood there forever, facing off. But she was saved by the fact that Nicholas marched back into the room. He was about to say something casual to her, his mind elsewhere. However, when he saw who she was with, his jaw dropped.
“Peter?” he asked, verifying that he was the man, who he said he was. “What…how…why–”
“Nicholas,” Peter’s face was only half an ounce softer as he regarded his middle brother. “You are well.”
“I am stunned,” Nicholas replied, turning to Ariel. “Get Alexander.”
“No problem,” she said, and Peter scoffed.
“You take orders from a prince, but not a king?”
“I take requests from a friend,” she said, “who did not abandon the world because it was too much to handle.”
And with that, she turned on her heel, moving quickly through the palace.
She was right to assume that Alexander was in the throne room. Even the night away had caused work to build up. The second she stepped in, she could see the change in his face. He could sense her better than the others, because he was always reaching out, always hoping for the feeling of numbness she could give him.
In this moment, though, the numbness came with the lingering hangover he had acquired the night before. He winced slightly as she burst in, and everyone turned to her.
She didn't care what he was in the middle of, though.
“Alexander, you have to come with me right now,” she said it in English so that the entire throne room wouldn't know she was barking orders at him. She didn't bow to him, something that always annoyed him. For as much as this girl was a wonderful addition to his life, she was also infuriating at times. She had no cares about ceremony, protocol, or respect. Ariel did as she wanted when she wanted it, and he could never get her to do otherwise.
Today, however, he recognized the urgency, and his brow furrowed.
“I
'm sorry?” he asked.
“I said now,” there was no uncertainty in her voice, and he rose.
“What is it?”
“Just come,” she said, holding out her hand. He took it, leaving everyone whispering in shock.
“Ariel, the palace better actually be on fire–”
“What would you prefer?” she asked, as they hustled down the hall. “A fire, or your oldest brother suddenly reappearing in the ballroom?”
He almost tripped over his own feet.
“What?” he asked, his eyes widening. “Have you lost your mind?”
“I would say yes, but Nicholas verified that he was actually there, so,” she shrugged, “he's probably got a better explanation as to what happened.”
“Oh, God.” Alexander said, and picked up the pace.
Sure enough, standing in the ballroom, looking just as shocked as everyone else, was Peter.
Alexander dropped to his knees, grabbing Nicholas's wrist and pulling him down as well.
“My king,” he said.
Ariel's jaw fell open.
“No,” she said. “You are king, Alexander. Peter abandoned you.”
“Ariel,” Alexander turned and his tone was harsh. “Peter is king. He has always been king, and I have always been holding his place.”
His eyes were ablaze at her disrespect.
“Excuse me?” she said. “He abandoned you! He disappeared because the world hurt his feelings. He ran when things got hard. Because I'm totally sure he's the first generation to ever find things hard around here,” she glared at Peter. “You were the one who–”
“Ariel, you will bow or you will leave this room,” Alexander said.
The choice to her was easy. She spun on her heel and stalked out, heading to the rooms that were designated as hers.
Normally, they were a beautiful, happy place where she could relax. Today, she was seething in anger.
If Peter was king, then she was unseated as queen. Princesses here had no power. That was clear from her sister-in-law's life. Enya had luxury, but no one listened if she had something to say. A princess’ life would not suit her.
The Hidden Truth (Shadow Claw Book 7) Page 76
