Fire Heart: A Dragon Fantasy Romance (The Dragon of Umbra Book 1)

by Emma Hamm

  He stared at her like she’d suggested that they burn down the tree in the middle of his house. “Why would we do that?”

  “So I can kill the King and get this over with. If there’s going to be so many people there, it should be rather easy to get him alone. Everyone will be distracted.” She wiggled her leg, her thigh muscle jiggling. “Go ahead. You know you want to add a weapon here. And you’re a leshy, so you should have some magical weapons that will really make an impact.”

  “You aren’t killing anyone tonight,” he snapped.

  “Isn’t that the entire point of this whole thing?” Lore wasn’t going to wander around the entire kingdom waiting for the perfect moment when the King was alone. He had a dragon to look after him! She wasn’t ever going to get a perfect moment, and this was as good as any.

  “Yes, that’s the point, but if you kill him now, then everyone will think that I was the one who made all this happen. The Umbral Knights will be on my doorstep within minutes, and then I’m the one who takes the fall for all this.” Borovoi hit her on the nose with a flower. It exploded, showering petals down her shoulders and making her sneeze. “Foolish girl. You are not allowed to do all this without thinking. If you want to kill a king, then you have to be mildly intelligent.”

  “Intelligence has nothing to do with killing people in my experience. Brute force gets you farther than thinking about the right plan.” At least, that’s how it had always been in Tenebrous. People wanted to think they could assassinate someone with poison, but that never worked. It always ended up being a heavy-browed man with a sledgehammer in an alleyway.

  “Not in this world.” Borovoi knocked her again with the butt end of the flower, then shook his head in disappointment. “You need to think more about where you are now, girl. You aren’t in some brothel or tavern where people are more likely to brawl. You’re entering a world where words can hurt far more than a sword.”

  “I don’t think the King is going to die because I insulted him with fancy words.”

  He pinned one last flower to her shoulder, then stepped back to look over his handy work. “No, he probably won’t die of that. But you could dethrone him with the right rumor or the wrong place to have caught him. The King knows this. Everyone knows this in the nobility. Play your cards right, Lorelei.”

  Why did it sound like he was warning her? As though he knew something about this entire process that he wasn’t sharing?

  “Borovoi,” she asked. “Are you not telling me a very key detail about tonight?”

  His response was a mere wink that didn’t settle any of the nerves in her stomach, and then a wave of his hand. The tree spun in a small circle, its roots ripping from the ground and a massive groan filling the air. All the butterflies burst into flight, and then the trunk of the great oak split open.

  Bark parted. Leaves rained down on their heads and suddenly, she realized that a door had opened. A door through the forest, through the very tree itself. Light sparkled from within.

  She glanced over at Borovoi, who wore an outfit fit for a king. Lace sprayed from his wrists and around his throat. The cream-colored suit was carefully beaded with tiny pearls. His dark hair was swept back from his face, revealing a bone structure that she hadn’t realized was there.

  He looked... handsome. Expensive, even. And perhaps slightly passable as a mortal.

  “Now I see why the King likes to keep you around,” she muttered. “You’re just as pretty as the rest of them.”

  “Ah, am I?” He winked. “Or do I just know how to look the part? You’re stunning yourself, miss half elf. Now, don’t let anyone know what you are and they might think you are a natural beauty.”

  Borovoi stepped through the tree and didn’t wait for her to follow. Apparently, he was done with her. A single minced piece of advice, one that was hard to chew on, and she was on her own again.

  “Not helpful,” she snarled.

  But there was no other option here. She had to follow him and continue this ruse that she was even interested in taking down the royalty of Umbra. Because if she worked for anyone, then she worked for herself. And Lore didn’t want to die. Nor did she want to spend the rest of her life running from the King’s men because she was a known half breed who had made a living selling an illegal weed.

  Grumbling, she stepped through the tree while bracing herself for the feeling of magic. She hated the slick slide of power against her skin. It always felt so unnatural. Which, she could admit, was a little hypocritical.

  Borovoi’s magic felt like she’d stepped through a waterfall. Cold. Wet. Definitely not something she wanted to feel again any time soon. She gritted her teeth and made it through, however. And then she stepped out into a party that was unlike anything she could have imagined.

  He wasn’t kidding when he said his parties were better. The entire landscape of the field in front of her had changed. Even the grass, usually yellowed in this area or at least soggy with marshwater, was bright blue. The stars were much closer, or they appeared to be. The bright orbs in the sky twinkled as though Borovoi had summoned the heavens down for the King’s amusement. A large white tent was set up, filled to the brim with more food than she could name.

  And the people. She couldn’t breathe with this many people around her. It seemed like all the key players in the Tenebrous leadership were here with their entire families. Women, children, young men, they all wandered through the field with nets in their hands.

  Nets?

  Borovoi wandered back to her side and handed her a small white net. “There will be butterflies released soon. Each one will give you a special power for the rest of the night. Only a few hours of magic, you see.”

  “Is that smart?” She took the offered net. “You’re giving mortals a glimpse into what it would be like to be us?”

  “They love magic. They love using it and seeing what we can do, but none of them wish to admit that they fear us for having it.” He winked. “I’m not giving them anything too powerful for the night. There will be no turning into a dragon for the night.”

  Lore still thought it was foolish. She watched the leshy wander off and wondered what it must be like to know that he was in the King’s favor and didn’t have to worry about what others would say if he was his magical self. She watched a young woman run up to his side, clap her hands, and then squeal with delight when he pulled a live butterfly from behind her ear.

  He could do whatever he wanted and no one would call the Umbral Knights on him. They laughed and smiled and cheered with glee when he walked by.

  Now, what would happen if she mentioned she was half elf to anyone here? They would scream in terror, point her directly to the Knights, and then tell their friends they had such a fright.

  What was the difference between her and Borovoi? Other than the fact that the King claimed he wasn’t dangerous, but she was?

  Maybe Margaret was right. This King had to go, and why shouldn’t that assassin be the young half elf who had lost her mother to his cruelty?

  “Hello.” A young woman stood beside her, staring up at the large stars. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

  The newcomer was a lovely vision in bright green. The fabrics of her skirt were layered to look like she was walking on waves. And with that lovely golden hair and eyes the color of the earth’s heart, she was a vision. Lorelei had no clue who this young woman was, but it was obvious her family had money. One of the few in Tenebrous.

  “I’m not usually out very often,” she replied. Lorelei gripped the net in her hands a little too hard, but she didn’t really know what to do with them.

  Now that she was in this society of beautiful people, her hands seemed a liability. She didn’t know how to hold them, where to put them, or if someone would see the callouses on her knuckles. All she could do was clutch the net in her fists and hope no one noticed she didn’t belong.

  “I find it best to hold your skirts,” the young woman said with a soft smile. “I remember my first party
. It’s awfully terrifying, but you’ll get through it. And every one after that gets a little easier. Just keep out of the King’s way, and you’ll be just fine.”

  Had the young woman said the last bit with a hardened edge? She was certain there was a warning in those words.

  Was the woman trying to warn her off the King? Oh, that wouldn’t do. The competition hadn’t even started yet, and these girls were trying to weed out the weak.

  She hated women.

  The more she looked around, the more she saw dirty looks being thrown left and right. All the women here were aware of the competition that had started already. They were all waiting for the King. For the chance to make an impression and if they didn’t, then they were aware of what it would look like on their families.

  Thankfully, Lore didn’t have a family. It didn’t matter what other people thought of her, or how she got the attention of the King at all.

  Which meant she needed a plan.

  These young women were not only beautiful, they were hungry. They wanted the King to look at them and only them. Lorelei wasn’t that good of an actress. The King would see how little she wanted to be around him, and he’d know that from a league away.

  She needed to think. She needed a breath away from all these perfumed lovely flowers and their poisonous thorns.

  Weaving through the crowd, she made her way past the tent and into the forest beyond. Just a few steps. Just enough to get out of the bubble of Borovoi’s magic so she could breathe easier again. The net suddenly jerked, as though it were tugging her back to the crowd. Maybe it was. Borovoi wouldn’t let one of his sheep get lost in the woods when they were supposed to be seeing the King.

  A faint cheer went up behind her, and Lore knew she’d missed the King’s entrance. He’d notice that.

  Breathing hard, she launched farther from Borovoi’s magic and filled her lungs with the clean, cool air of the forest. All the sounds of the party were muffled here. Sure, she could still hear them all. The faint sound of laughter and happiness that she knew was fake.

  But at least for the moment, she could take a deep breath and be alone. Too many people. Too much of a risk for them to see her ears, even though she’d carefully put her hair over the tiny points.

  She had to get back there. She had to...

  No. Lorelei had to think about how to capture the King’s attention, and her best chance now was to arrive at the party late. Perhaps a little drunk.

  She looked down at the net. “Magic for the night,” she muttered.

  Borovoi had said he hadn’t given them anything too strong. So, had he thought of taking Silverfell’s particular power? She hadn’t used it in a while, but it was certain to cause a scene.

  A twig cracked to her right. Lore froze, eyes still straight ahead, but her ears listened for the next movement. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one in the forest tonight.

  Chapter 8

  Abraxas

  “Walk through the forest,” the King had said. It will be easy to find the party.

  Of course it would be. Except Borovoi hated Abraxas, and that meant the damned leshy had made it almost impossible to find the location of his cursed party. He grunted and smacked another branch out of his way. It appeared even the forest worked against him tonight.

  The King was completely incapable of protecting himself. The leshy knew that. And this all only made Abraxas think this whole bride contest was a way to get to the King.

  The rebellion was smart like that. It sounded like a plan they would have cooked up, although he still had a hard time believing Borovoi would be involved. Too much of the King's coffers had gone into that devious creature’s pockets.

  And yet, here he was. Lost in the woods and hoping he stumbled upon the party he’d seen from the air but clearly couldn’t find on foot. This was why he hated being in a mortal body. He had no way of knowing where he was, or where he was going.

  “Damn it,” he grumbled, smacking a tree with a little too much force.

  At this rate, the entire gathering would be over by the time he found the hidden tents. Abraxas stepped into a smaller clearing in the woods, still cursing the leshy for all that he’d done. Except he stopped in his tracks almost immediately.

  A figure stood in the clearing, a subtle breeze toying with the strands of her hair. And for some strange reason, his breath caught in his throat.

  She didn’t face him, but he could see her profile perfectly. The straight edge of her nose. The pale waves of her blonde hair. The faint scent of rainwater and the aftermath of lightning lingered in the air. It captivated him, zinging straight through his chest.

  Abraxas felt as though he stood in the eye of a storm. And that certainly couldn’t be the way of it. He didn’t need the company of women, nor did he look to them for their attention. Women were a means to an end, unless they were of draconic blood, and then he supposed he had to focus on them a little more.

  What was it about this strange woman that had struck such a nerve?

  “My apologies,” he rasped, then cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “You didn’t.” She continued not to look at him. “I heard you coming.”

  Had he been that loud? Abraxas was usually more aware of his surroundings. Being loud in any Umbral forest was bound to bring about creatures that most people didn’t want to fight.

  He scratched the back of his neck and tried to not sound embarrassed. “I’m afraid I have a lot on my mind as of late. I’m glad you heard me, however. I would hate to have startled someone like... you.”

  Oh, that sounded horrible. Was he trying to flirt with her? No. He was the King’s dragon and there was no room for women in his life. He’d only drag them into the depths of despair with him.

  She snorted. “There’s a lot of that going around tonight, I think.”

  And then she turned to look at him and he felt as though he’d captured a star. The flowers of her dress glimmered in the moonlight from tiny dewdrops hanging on the edges of every single petal. A few butterflies rested on her chest and hips. And those eyes. Those big, beautiful eyes that were as vivid and bright as the sea on a clear day.

  The sea he so desperately missed.

  One look at those eyes reminded him of when he’d soared over the waves. He’d thought that color of sapphire couldn’t exist anywhere else and yet... Here she was. A woman made of the elements and just as heartrending.

  Who was she? She obviously wasn’t one of the villagers, or she would have recognized him. Or perhaps she was from Tenebrous, but she wasn’t anyone of importance.

  That made little sense, however. If she wasn’t of any importance, why would she be here?

  Abraxas knew she was meant for the King. Look at her. Her dress was made with the utmost care and beauty, not to mention that her hair was clearly done with magic. Those curls didn’t make themselves, and he would not fool himself into thinking that she dressed like this often.

  The days of meeting elven maidens in the woods were long past, even though he would have preferred their return. He’d always loved the elves. Their beauty. Their wit. And the deadly manner in which they eviscerated all of their opponents.

  She swallowed hard, staring at him with obvious distrust. “Are you going to talk? Or were you planning on standing there silently staring at me?”

  Had he said nothing since she’d spoken last? He was a dolt. And he knew better than to corner a poor woman in the woods and then stare at her like he’d never seen a woman before.

  Sighing, Abraxas swept into a deep bow. “My apologies, Lady of Starlight. I did not expect to find someone in the woods while I searched for Borovoi’s party. I’m afraid that surprise has stolen my tongue and turned me into the fool you see before you now. I must beg for your forgiveness and perhaps that you might forget what I have said.”

  She said nothing in response to that, and his belly churned in the silence. Had he done something wrong again? Women were Zander’s forte, not his. An
d besides, the only women he’d ever tried to woo in his life had been the dragon females long ago.

  They were easy to convince, considering the size of his draconic form and how hot his flames burned. Human women were much less interested in that side of him.

  He looked up from his deep bow and saw she still watched him with a calculating expression. “Have I said too much again?” he asked.

  “I’m trying to understand you,” she replied. “You come out of the woods as though you are some hunter who happened upon my path. But you claim to seek Borovoi’s party. Which means you are certainly someone of higher status than a mere hunter.”

  “I am more than a hunter,” he agreed. Did he really look like some peasant?

  “Then why are you walking in the woods in the middle of the night rather than already at the party?” She hooked a thumb over her back and the butterfly at her shoulder took flight. “That’s where the rest of your kind are waiting. The King has already arrived, so I’m afraid you’re rather late.”

  “As are you.” He straightened, tucking his hands behind his back for good measure. But he couldn’t stop himself from staring at the small patch of skin the butterfly had revealed. “If you’re here, then I assume you’re also meant to be at that same party.”

  “I needed some air.”

  “Ah.” He nodded. “They are all rather intimidating, I know that for certain. You don’t seem like the women I had expected to find here.”

  Apparently, that was not the right thing to say. Her eyebrows lifted in obvious anger and she snorted out an unladylike breath. “Just what did you expect to find?”

  Oh, she would not trap him like that. Abraxas had lived a long time, and he didn’t fall into the schemes of feminine wiles that easily. After all, he knew when a woman wanted a compliment and when she wanted a battle.

  This woman wanted a battle and then some.

  He stepped forward, too quickly for her eyes to track, and yet he was almost certain she saw him. He lifted a hand to her cheek. Impossibly, she caught his wrist with strong hands, their limbs suddenly frozen between them as though they were about to start an intricate dance.