by T. A. White
As independent as Tate was, she knew this world thrived on give and take. The emperor gave her legitimacy; his dragon-ridden reinforced his rule.
It was an acceptable trade.
Tate nodded at Daisy. “Head back to the annex and let Blaise and Jacob know about this.”
The two dragon-ridden were older and more experienced than Tate in the matters of the empire. If nothing else, maybe they could give Daisy a crash course on etiquette.
Seeing the worry in Daisy’s eyes, Tate forced a smile. “Don’t worry too much. I’m sure once Thora calms down he’ll have a plan for this.”
If only Tate believed that too. This was so far outside her realm of expertise and comfort that she couldn’t help but feel like she was going to make a fool of herself. That or offend someone with the power to make her life exceedingly difficult for the foreseeable future.
Knowing her, it was possible she’d achieve both.
At least Daisy’s personality was a little more easy going than Tate’s. She wasn’t the type to insult others or cause commotions.
No, that was entirely Tate’s expertise.
Daisy’s nod didn’t hide her uncertainty. She peeked at Dewdrop before heading for the annex.
Strong dragonlette, Ilith said approvingly.
Let’s hope that strength doesn’t get her killed.
Ilith flicked a tail in dismissal before shutting her eyes and resuming her nap.
“I really hope nothing happens,” Dewdrop said.
“Me too.” Tate tilted her head back, lifting a hand to shade her eyes as she glanced up at the roof.
Night, Pax and Willa peered down, similar expressions on their faces. Sitting next to each other, it was impossible not to see the family resemblance.
Though the twins still had fuzzy tufts of cream fur dotted throughout their coats, Night’s was complete. It gave Tate a glimpse of what the twins would look like when fully grown.
Brown, black and gold stripes ran along the length of Night’s back before fading into cream colored fur with black rosettes along his limbs.
The flat nose and pointy ears with tufts of fur sticking out of them made him seem more adorable than fearsome. An illusion, since he was one of the most lethal creatures Tate had ever encountered.
His children were miniature versions of him. The twins looked almost identical except for the fact Pax’s markings on his face were a little darker whereas Willa had a lot more cream-colored fur there.
The differences were lucky for Dewdrop and Tate. She couldn’t imagine how much more trouble the two would get into if they couldn’t tell them apart.
Already, they were menaces to be feared.
Tate stared at Willa. “How did she even get up there?”
It was a stupid question. The Veles were skilled climbers and masters at stealth. Night had proven that time and again. Such a feat wouldn’t be difficult for his daughter.
“You coming with us or staying here?”
Night chuffed and stood. He bent his head and nudged each of his offspring. Pax and Willa took turns rubbing their faces against his before springing for the edge of the roof.
“Don’t—” Tate’s protest came too late as the twins dug their claws into the plaster of the walls, descending in one fluid movement that took the blink of an eye.
At any other time, Tate might have admired their skill, but now all she could feel was resignation.
“I really hope Thora doesn’t see those marks.”
Tate was already in enough trouble as it was. If he found out the Veles were responsible for more damage to his precious headquarters, he’d probably try to decapitate her.
“I suspect he’ll be more preoccupied with that giant dent Ilith left,” Dewdrop offered.
Tate wished she had his optimism.
Tate started walking, skirting the building in favor of the gravel path that would lead to the front gates and out of the palace.
By now, she knew the way by heart.
She passed in front of headquarters and the dragon’s head stamped in wood over the large door, walking down the wide gravel path that only served to draw attention to the stately manor.
She reached the end of the drive. Should she turn right, she’d end up at the palace where it perched along the edge of cliffs that overlooked the ocean and the area of the city known as the Lower.
Aurelia was called the gem of the empire in large part because of that palace. When it caught the light exactly right, the black stone it was built from shimmered as if diamond dust was trapped within its depths.
Turning left would take her to the palace gates and beyond it the Upper where the most affluent lived. Land came at a premium, but you wouldn’t know it to look at the houses. Every one of which was big enough to hold dozens of families from the Lower. The lots were large and well-tended, protected by impenetrable gates that offered their residents privacy.
In the Lower, homes tended to be much closer together. Many of the buildings, especially those that butted up against the cliff, were built from flimsy material that was meant to only offer temporary shelter but had somehow managed to last decades.
It was also where the wharf and docks were, along with several nighttime markets.
Of the two, Tate preferred the Lower. It was less stifled. Livelier than the Upper.
Tate slowed as they approached the gates, spotting a figure leaning against one pillar, his face tipped up to the sky. Eyes closed.
Dewdrop and Tate shared a look.
“Give me a moment,” she told him and Night.
“Come on, Night. If we linger, who knows what will happen.”
Night’s whiskers tilted forward in a silent laugh as he padded after Dewdrop, his children frolicking at his feet.
Pax pounced on Willa, sending her rolling. She chirped and pawed at him, giving chase when he fled.
Tate smiled as she stopped next to Jacob. “I thought you’d be watching over the children.”
“Blaise can do that.” Jacob finally opened his eyes to study her.
He looked better than he had during the visit to Silvain. Gone was the gaunt look on his face and his frame, and his features had finally filled out. He looked healthy.
At least physically.
Mentally, was another story.
Jacob carried scars no one should have to bear. She didn’t know who he’d been before his captivity and torture, but the man he was now was quiet. Reserved. He rarely spoke unless needed. Always waiting and watching from the background.
Many would pity him. They’d consider him broken and in need of fixing, never realizing how the way they saw him might act like poison within his veins, turning him from a survivor into a victim.
Tate had never seen him that way. Jacob made it out. Battered. Bruised. Scarred. But he’d survived and was feeling his way forward, one day at a time.
It was a very hard thing to find purpose again and a reason for living after what he’d gone through. It was so much easier to give up.
The fact he kept going was something to admire and celebrate, not treat him with useless pity.
“He’s better with the children than I thought he’d be,” Tate admitted.
It had taken a long time for Tate to see behind Blaise’s prickly exterior. He used his thorns to irritate and keep others at arm’s length. Only those he accepted ever saw another side of him. To Tate’s knowledge, that list only consisted of dragon-ridden.
“The children are good for him. They remind him of his brother.”
Tate lifted her eyebrows. She hadn’t known he had a sibling. Not surprising, really. There was a lot she still didn’t know about Blaise—or any of them really.
They’d had centuries to accumulate experiences and history while she’d only been in their orbit for a short time.
For beings as long lived as they, sometimes the memories weren’t a pleasurable place to visit—
especially when most of the people you once knew were already dead.
“They were twins.” Jacob’s eyes landed on Tate. “That year the signs said there were multiple dragons crossing the rift. They went to the rift together to see if they were compatible.”
“Only one of them took the bond?”
Jacob shook his head. “No. They both gained a dragon.”
Tate’s forehead wrinkled with confusion. From the sorrow on his face, she could tell the twin was no longer in this world.
“Blaise survived his first change so did Bell. For a time, we thought they’d both make it. It didn’t take long before we saw how wrong we were.”
“What happened?”
“He went mad.” Jacob’s smile was pained. “Blaise was forced to put him down.”
A horrified quiet fell between them.
That was an even worse outcome than Tate thought it would be. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it would have been to end the life of someone you’d shared a womb with. Just thinking of having to face that decision with Night or Dewdrop opened a pit in the bottom of her stomach. It was no wonder Blaise was slow to warm up to strangers. A loss like that marked a person.
Jacob pushed off the pillar, coming to standing. “That’s why the children are so important. He sees his brother in them. Saving them is the same as being able to save Bell. They have to survive.”
Tate nodded slowly, holding his serious gaze with her own.
She’d always known each of the dragon-ridden saw the children as something to be protected, but now she saw how deep that instinct ran. Blaise saw his brother in them. Jacob, a chance at redemption for wrongs he wasn’t responsible for. Even Thora wasn’t as impartial as he pretended. He, more than anyone, knew the loneliness and sorrow that came with this existence.
The dragon-ridden were eternal. They didn’t age. The only way they died was if something killed them.
The children gave them hope amid a lifetime of hard choices and lost loved ones. Losing them would leave behind a wound that Tate didn’t think they’d ever fully heal from.
It wouldn’t be the first time they’d suffered such a wound, and Tate very much feared for the older among them. Thora especially. For all his age and strength, he was fragile in this aspect.
It was why he’d been so reluctant to even try to save them at first. Sometimes it was harder to hope and have that hope stolen from you than to give up from the beginning.
“Tell me about the dragon slayer,” Tate said in a serious voice.
Now more than ever, she needed to understand what about the woman so upset the rest. Only then could she know how much of a threat George presented and whether that threat needed to be eliminated.
Jacob studied Tate with a thoughtful expression, seeming to come to a decision. “Georgiana Rosewood is only the latest to take up the station of dragon slayer.”
“I’m going to assume her task is to kill dragon-ridden who step out of line,” Tate said.
Jacob inclined his chin. “She, and those before her, are responsible for culling those dragon-ridden who become a threat to the empire.”
“Not you guys?”
“We’re not trusted to police that. They believe we’re blinded with emotion when it comes to our own,” Jacob said with a humorless smile. “They have a point. There wasn’t always a dragon slayer, but certain incidents highlighted the need. It’s an exceedingly difficult task to end the life of someone you know, someone you’ve broken bread with and shared stories with.”
“I thought the Black Order were responsible for that.”
“They’d like that—but no. Formally, the dragon slayers have always been our executioners.”
That made the decision to send George to their headquarters all the more interesting. Was this a sign that bad things were coming or a warning to remind them of their place?
“How worried should we be?”
“The current slayer is a stickler for the rules. If you don’t give her an opening, she won’t act,” he said. “In a way, she’s in the same situation as us. People fear her and seek to use her in the same way they do us. Only unlike us, there is no one to share in the burden. Try to remember that when you meet her next. Don’t let our history influence your opinions too much.”
Tiring of the conversation, Jacob straightened and nodded at her in dismissal.
Tate hesitated for half a second. “Blaise is concerned about you too. Maybe consider that and don’t worry your friend so much.”
Her message delivered, Tate slipped out of the gates and headed toward where Dewdrop, Night and the twins were waiting for her.
“What was that about?” Dewdrop asked glancing at Jacob.
“A warning.” Tate’s gaze was focused and determined. “When we get home, I need you to summon Roslyn.”
Before, she’d considered this appointment with court a nuisance but ultimately harmless. With Jacob’s words, she realized she was entering a battlefield.
Like with all battles, preparation and planning were the key to success.
Roslyn was her secret weapon. All she needed to do now was make sure the other woman agreed.
THREE
The air was brisk against Tate’s face, containing a hint of chill as they moved through the streets of the Upper. Spring hadn’t decided yet whether it was here to stay, instead flirting with winter for the last few weeks.
The cold wasn’t as noticeable earlier since the sun provided adequate warmth, but as afternoon deepened and they moved in and out of the shadows of the buildings, they lost its protection. Tate’s cheeks smarted as they approached the edge of the cliff. Wind raced across the ocean, buffeting them.
From here, you could see everything. The sunlight dancing on the ocean waves, the ships dotting the harbor. High cliffs on one side and a slim peninsula on the other formed a crescent moon through which only a narrow strip of open water allowed ships to enter and exit.
Tate admired the view as they continued along the edge of the cliff.
From this part of the city, there were two ways to access the Lower. The first involved the cliff elevators that connected the Upper and Lower. For a small fee, you could travel them at all hours of the day and night.
The other option involved the long climb that bridged the Upper and Lower parts of Aurelia, referred to not-so-affectionately as the Hill. It was the dividing line that separate the two halves and was where Tate had chosen to settle. Having a foot in both worlds suited her.
It helped that the views were breathtaking no matter what window in her house you looked out.
The houses there were tall and narrow, long staircases winding down to the road. Each one was a different color, adding personality and charm.
It wasn’t long before Tate and the rest approached their home midway down the Hill; a dignified three-story row house that fit in with the rest.
Pax and Willa raced ahead of the adults, two streaks as they climbed on top of the containing wall and ran up the lawn.
Willa nipped at Pax’s tail as he took the lead. He twirled, catching her shoulder. The two wrestled through the flower beds Tate had started last year, not paying any attention to the dirt they kicked up.
Night made a chuffing sound as he started after his children with a loose-limbed saunter. He covered the ground quickly, never appearing to hurry.
When he reached them, he collapsed onto his side with a weary sigh. Seeing this, the twins shared a conspiring look. Feline grins spread across their faces. As one, they leapt on top of their father.
He nipped at their feet, dragging Willa in front of him. She wiggled free, finding her way onto him again in no time.
Dewdrop snickered at the sight as he followed Tate up the stairs. “Don’t strain yourself, grandpa.”
Night lifted a paw and pinned Pax to the ground. The two stared at each other, having a private conversation.
Night removed his paw and laid fully down.
Pax stood on his back legs, staring at Dewdrop. Taking her cue from her brother, Willa did the same.
Dew
drop took a step back. “What are you doing?”
The twins were silent as they stared some more.
“Seriously, what did you tell them?” Dewdrop’s voice developed a high-pitched note.
Tate’s lips quivered as she suppressed her smile. Something told her she knew what was about to happen. Too bad Dewdrop was a little slower on the uptake.
He only had himself to blame. He’d brought this on himself.
Night closed his eyes.
“Don’t pretend to sleep. Answer the question.”
Tate leaned toward Dewdrop. “If I were you, I’d run.”
Pax and Willa dropped to four legs.
Seeing that, Dewdrop jumped backward and sucked in a horrified breath. “Not this again.”
The twins had a history of playing for keeps. The last time they played a game, Dewdrop had lost a pair of pants and needed stitches to repair the holes they put in him.
Seeing the anticipation gleaming on their furry faces, Dewdrop’s courage deserted him. He scrambled up the stairs. The twins raced toward him, closing in on him in the blink of an eye.
One of them swiped at the back of his legs with their claws. Dewdrop yelped as he started to fall.
“This won’t be like last time. You’ll never defeat me,” Dewdrop screamed as he recovered his balance somehow and staggered up the path.
Tate whistled. “He made it to the door this time. Impressive.”
It’s good training for him, Night said without opening his eyes. He’s gotten lazy lately.
Tate shook her head and followed the others. That sounded like an excuse to her. Since coming home from Silvain, Dewdrop had been diligent in his pursuit of getting stronger.
Tate’s kidnapping had left a mark on him. It had sparked feelings of helplessness. Learning about Jax’s dire message of the trouble coming their way had only fueled his desire to protect his family by any means necessary.
It had led him to ask his former people, the Avertine for help. They’d given it. Now, hardly a day passed when Dewdrop wasn’t involved in some extreme training designed to mold his unique ability and body.
Tate stepped inside, her gaze landing on the trio halfway up the stairs.