Claiming the Dragon King

by Amelia Hutchins

  “And our son, will he set everything on fire?” she asked with a pinched expression.

  “Most definitely,” he chuckled. “Don’t worry, I won’t let him set you ablaze, you’re hot enough already.”

  “Smart ass,” she murmured as she lifted on her toes, kissing him.

  “It’s ending soon,” he admitted. “Our time in here was shortened because you were already here.”

  “I took this away from you,” she exclaimed. “I didn’t know, I mean, your dragon took me in.”

  “It’s okay, I got to see you here with this,” he said, waving across the memory with his arm. “It’s been centuries since I was able to even imagine it. I searched for a mate just to be able to catch a glimpse of home.”

  Her heart tightened as she thought of her home, of her family. She missed them more than she could ever imagine, and she had planned to leave, but couldn’t. She had no idea where she was, and chancing being out there alone and being caught in a freeze terrified her.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Home,” she uttered as she rested her head against his chest.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Weeks passed in blissful content, but with every passing day, she missed home more. She missed her niece and nephews, and her swelling belly was a constant reminder that they were growing up without her, as was her child. Blane hadn’t changed his plans of war, she was sure of it, and yet he seemed to have lowered his walls around her. Every night was bliss, but every morning he disappeared with Kerrigan.

  Remy remained her constant sidekick, and Fyra had even joined them on occasion as Ciara walked the camp, visiting the sick and wounded who had ventured out to find new lands for them to camp in. They didn’t stay in one place long, and it took a toll on the people.

  The children brought her flowers and danced around her as she accepted them until Remy had to give up and help her carry them. One entire side of the tent was filled with dead or dying flowers. Blane wanted to throw them away, but Ciara feared that doing so would hurt the children’s feelings.

  “You know, if you don’t stop accepting the flowers, you’re going to need a larger tent,” Remy complained as he dropped is armful into the tent and turned to look at her.

  “They watch the tent like little minions of darkness,” she frowned. “They’d see if we threw them away and that would hurt their feelings.”

  “You think throwing away flowers would hurt their feelings?” Fyra scoffed. “The Horde Princess is afraid to hurt children’s feelings. You’re seriously ruining the image I had of you, Ciara. You get tortured, survive it, and you’re bloody fucking nice, what the ever-loving fuck. You’re supposed to be a spoiled ass bitch and make it easy for me to not like you, but no. You’re the exact opposite, and now I have to like you and shit,” she complained.

  “Sorry, sucks when you have to admit you’re wrong. I actually like you too, so I know exactly how you feel,” she laughed.

  Fyra scratched her blonde head and pushed her war braids off her shoulders. “I’m out of here. I have blades to sharpen and shit to stab. Throw the flowers away, Ciara, before they up their game and start bringing you creatures from the forest and you end up with a tent that stinks like wild animals. Those kids are insane, they find cats and shit everywhere, and I don’t mean domesticated ones either. Can’t have our queen scratched all up and shit,” she fumed. “I mean it, throw them away. I catch any fucking wild animals on their way here in grubby little arms, I’m going to fry them up and feed them to you. The shit they bring to camp isn’t right.”

  “Wild animals aren’t so bad,” Ciara started, and Remy hooted with laughter as Fyra growled.

  “They brought a wild thing in here, and it almost ate them a few weeks back, and we had to catch the little fucker. It ain’t right; we have enough going on, and then you have to add some critters that Gods know what the hell they are, trying to gnaw on the little ones. It’s a mess, it’s chaos, and Blane does nothing to stop them. He’s out planning…” she paused, looking at Remy for help.

  “War against the Horde,” Ciara said, and Fyra nodded.

  “I’m sorry, Ci, I don’t know when to shut up.”

  “Its fine, Fyra,” she said as she turned her worried gaze to the flowers. “Remy, can you get rid of them in the morning? I need to lie down,” she muttered. She watched as he nodded.

  “Sure thing, my queen, first thing in the morning,” he agreed. “Get some rest,” he murmured as he patted her head. “Can’t have you exhausted or some shit, the people would freak out if you didn’t come out every day. I think you’re their fucking hope. Some were talking about going back to the castle soon, which is refreshing instead of the bitching about the packing to head to the next camp.”

  “I’m glad,” she said as she moved to the bed and sat on it. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said as he pulled a frowning Fyra with him.

  “Why didn’t you punch me in the mouth?” Fyra hissed.

  “Because you’re a girl, idiot,” he hissed back.

  “She wasn’t supposed to know what he is doing!”

  “And she can still hear you, she’s Fae, they have like super hearing,” he argued.

  “Fuck, shit, motherfucker,” Fyra swore.

  Ciara closed her eyes as she placed her hand on her belly, feeling her babe move inside of her. Dragons grew way faster than Fae, which meant her time was coming and she was running out of time to figure out a plan. Blane wasn’t changing his course no matter what she did; he didn’t love her, nor did he care that it was her family he would be killing.

  She stood, pacing the tent as she extinguished the lights. She slipped on a cloak and moved from the tent, slowly making her way towards the bigger of the tents, where Blane held his war council. He should have been back hours ago, and Remy had purposefully kept her away from that side of the camp.

  Once she was close enough, she stood in the shadows, using her Fae senses to reach out for him. His voice calmed and soothed her once she found it. Kerrigan, on the other hand, grated on her nerves.

  “You’re not thinking clearly. You put your mark on her and a babe in her belly, and now you want to slow things down, wait to see if they make a move, and I’m telling you, if we don’t move now, they’ll find us first, and they will slaughter every last one of us.”

  “I’m thinking clearly.”

  “Prove it; we go now and strike the bastards searching the woods for her before they find us.”

  “Careful, Kerrigan, it almost sounds like you are giving me orders.”

  “I’m your advisor, I was your father’s advisor before yours,” he snapped. “You put a babe in a Fae’s belly, you mated with her, and now your people are tripping over their feet to please that bitch. They adore her!”

  “Of course they do, she was saving them while we were plotting to murder her people and scouring Faery for the babes we were supposed to steal in the first place. My plans have not changed, not one fucking bit. She is the queen, Kerrigan. She is my wife, and that changes nothing. You will stop referring to her as a bitch because even after I get revenge, she will continue to be your queen.”

  “As you wish,” he replied softly. “You should retire, my king. Tomorrow we have to lead them elsewhere while camp is packed to move them before we are discovered. We’ve stayed here too long.”

  Ciara left the area, slipping into the tent and tossing her cloak aside as she crawled into the bed and rested on her side. Tears burned her eyes as anger pulsed through her. She listened as footsteps approached, and the flap was opened.

  The sound of clothing rustling and hitting the floor forced her to close her eyes and ignore the longing that crept into her belly. The bed dipped, and then he was there, wrapping his arms around her as he slipped his hand over her stomach, feeling the
babe as it tossed and turned.

  “You were gone a long time tonight.”

  “Had some stragglers from the last close call still out in the woods I had to deal with,” he murmured. “You should be asleep, little queen.”

  “I thought you were scouting a new camp for us?” she asked.

  “I can do two things at once,” he said, a hint of defensiveness entering his tone.

  “Any word on the Horde?” she asked.

  “No, I’ve stayed away from them,” he lied.

  “You gave up revenge, just like that?”

  “I have you, our child is soon to be of this world, and I have people to worry about for now. You will secure peace after he is born, and our people are in a safe location. You need to be able to travel, Ciara. You can’t do it in your condition.”

  “Okay,” she whispered as she closed her eyes.

  “You’re not in pain, are you? You seem vexed,” he asked.

  “A little, but no more than I expected,” she answered, referring to his betrayal. “He’s strong, very strong.”

  “He’s my son,” he replied sleepily.

  Ciara waited for Blane to fall asleep before she stood up, pacing the tent as she considered her next move. She stared at the flowers on the floor of the tent, bathed in the shadows, and then at the sleeping male on the bed.

  She chose her move, sifting from the tent and deep into the forest. She continued until she was back where they’d open the portal, unable to pass through it without someone opening it from the other side. She stood there, staring at the empty field before she whispered the words to get her home.

  “Synthia, I need your help. Come get me; I’m giving you what I can see around me.”

  She felt a rush of power and turned to look at Synthia and Ryder, and chewed her lip as Ryder’s gaze landed on the bump in her middle.

  “I’m going to fucking destroy him,” he seethed.

  “Get the fuck in line,” Zahruk growled from behind him where he’d sifted in.

  “Ah, minx,” Ristan said, holding out his arms. “Whose heart am I eating?”

  Ciara burst into tears as she rushed into Ristan’s arms and sobbed. “Take me home; just take me home, please.”

  “On it,” he said, sifting with her still in his arms.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Ciara woke in her own bed, stretching her hand out for Blane, and then groaned loudly as she realized he wouldn’t be there. She was home, among her family without him. Hushed whispers made her eyes open as she sat up, hugging her swollen belly.

  “Hey, minx,” Ristan said as he stood from the chair he’d been sitting in to move closer. Synthia and Ryder stood against the wall; Synthia leaned against his tall frame, letting his arms hold her as they stared at her as she woke from a restless sleep.

  “I’m home,” she exhaled, not sounding happy about it, but it had been the right choice.

  “And either you ate a watermelon, or you’re pregnant, and someone is going to fucking die,” Zahruk growled as he stood from the chair he’d positioned on the other side of her bed. Her room was elegant; an enormous four-poster bed sat in the middle, while rainbow-hued colors of fabric covered the walls and balcony.

  “You cannot kill my husband,” she muttered and winced as power rippled through the room as her brothers growled as one.

  “You’re married?” Ryder demanded as even more power erupted through the room with his sudden anger.

  “I am, to the Dragon King, and it’s his child I carry.”

  “By choice, or by force, Ciara?” he countered as his eyes swirled golden fire. His body tensed, and her next words could potentially decide Blane’s fate.

  “Both, I was drunk when I married him, but the child, it was created together.”

  “You knew she was married?” he snarled, turning on Synthia.

  “Absolutely not! She wasn’t when I saw her last, either. I knew she was tied to a pole and that he wasn’t immune to her seduction ploy. She was handling him, but I didn’t assume she’d come back married or with a child in her belly, Fairy,” she snapped back as she gave Ciara an accusing stare. “You don’t want them dead, and she had an in to save them. Obviously, it failed, but if she is pregnant by choice, he is not the only one to blame here. She’s an adult, her body is hers to control. Not yours, not mine.”

  “She’s my baby sister,” he muttered as he turned angry eyes on Ciara.

  “I’m not a child, and I want my child, Ryder. I love him already,” she whispered through a frown as she plopped back on the bed and closed her eyes. “His father is the most stubborn, irritating, pigheaded asshole in this realm.”

  “And he took you for revenge,” Ristan pointed out softly. “Do you love him?”

  “Not,” she frowned as she sat up and looked at Ristan who watched her knowingly. “I am his tool for his revenge. If anyone keeps me from him or assisted in my escape, he’d be able to call for their deaths through some sort of magic the dragons have. It’s called a death wish, and he used it on our father for the murder of his people. Remember when we said it was odd that his beast didn’t put up much of a fight? I don’t think he could. So when he comes for me, and he will, I have to go with him.”

  “Fuck. That,” Ryder growled. “He is not your king, I am, and I forbid it.”

  “You’re also my brother, Ryder. I’m not asking my king, I’m asking my brother to trust me.”

  “Ciara,” he argued as the window cracked and spider-webbed with his rage.

  “Ryder? I have been through hell and back, and that man can touch me and wash it away. I don’t know why Destiny picked him, but she did. My ribs hold his mark and his alone, and his dragon claimed me a long time ago as its mate. I am his, and he is mine. I came home to warn you of his plans, to thwart them, but I do not want him hurt because of it. You are my family, and I yours.”

  “And what are his plans?” he asked as he pushed his magic away slowly and held her gaze. “To make us pay for what we did? I don’t blame him, it was a slaughter. I can’t ever undo it, or I would have already. None of us wanted to be there that day, but we knew if we failed, we would be the ones who ended up crushed. I can’t undo the past, and that is what he wants, isn’t it?”

  “No, no, he just wants you dead. I think I can reach him, but I need you to give them peace and allow them to go home. I know what their palace looked like before it was destroyed; I’d like to recreate it and have it ready for them before we announce that you are willing to give it to them.”

  “Mages are using it as their armory.” He shook his head as he started to continue.

  “So kill the bastards and take it back, brother. We burned them out of the only home they have known, and they now roam in camps, moving every couple of days. They live in places that we do not wander into because of the monsters in them. I fought pregnant to protect babies, Ryder. Doing this and giving them peace will go further towards letting the past go. We can’t erase what happened or change who our father was, but this, this we can do for them. They’re not bad people; they’re broken because we broke their world. We thought we had murdered their entire race and there are thousands of them left. You are trying to undo what that bastard did to this world, so I need you to do this for me, for my child. I am their queen,” she whispered brokenly. “I get that you’re pissed, and I understand why you would be, but I have to fix this.”

  “Ciara, a lot has happened in the time that you have been gone,” Zahruk said softly as he leaned against the wall watching her. “The Mages have grown stronger, bolder. Ryder was taken, and Danu is gone. Hell gates have been opened, and all worlds are now on the brink of chaos. It’s not only our portals that have been opened; it’s every realm you can imagine. Creatures we’ve not seen before are entering Faery.”

  “I am aware that we
have vermin issues; I fought them in the outer realm.”

  Ryder swore under his breath as he moved to sit beside her, keeping a few inches between them. It was normal, the distance, the inability to touch her because of the attacks she’d endured after the endless torture if someone got too close to her. She held her hand out, taking his into hers, and sat there, knowing they were all taken back by the simple action.

  “I’ve never asked for anything, or been able to for that matter,” she whispered as he clasped his hand around hers, gently squeezing it. “If we do nothing, they will die, and we will be no better than our father. He is healing me for whatever reason; I’m able to touch again. I feel when I’m around him. I know I’ve been in trouble since I left the pavilion, and I know I’ve given you hell while finding my wings, but I found them.”

  “He planned to take our children, Ciara,” Synthia pointed out with unease. “I know you want to save them, but if he isn’t willing to change, I myself will destroy him. If it is between my children and him, he will lose.”

  “He wanted our attention,” she countered firmly. “If I thought for one moment he would harm your children, I’d kill him myself. I’m asking that you give them peace when they ask for it and that we are allowed to go to his home. I’m telling you not to trust him or any of his people until I say otherwise. If I can’t change his heart, I will go from this land to where I can protect my child from him as well as you,” she announced and rubbed her temples as the room exploded in curses. “Do you remember when you attacked father to defend Dristan? It wasn’t time to attack, we were still planning the raid with Kier, and yet we still won. Remember how father’s beast didn’t put up the fight you thought it would have, or how we feared you would be lost in securing his death? How his men didn’t rally to him, or seemed sluggish during the fight? Blane guaranteed your win, our win. He raised his mother from the grave after placing the markings on her corpse. She then was able to call forth the curse, a death wish. It guarantees death to whoever has separated a dragon from its mate. I am his mate. I have had his mark on me since before father was murdered. When he killed Fury, it released his dragon, and he discovered me in the pavilion as a child. He was able to see my future, my pain, my endless torture. He called on a Goddess to mark me for him personally. He thinks I can reach Blane, to end this before it becomes something more. Trust me; trust me, and I will do this, Ryder. All I am asking for is peace and time. If I cannot do this, I will admit defeat and leave forever.”