Crown of Dragons

by Nina Walker

  “These are the type of heels I can do.” I grin and strut around the small dorm room, feeling like a million bucks. Something about the comfortable heels give me an extra boost of confidence.

  Macy comes at me with a lipstick wand. “This stuff will stay in place all night.” She winks. “Which is perfect for when he kisses you.”

  I stop, my stomach tight. “You think he’s going to kiss me?”

  Cora waggles her eyebrows. “Oh girl, you two have been flirting for weeks. I know he’s going to kiss you.”

  Okay. I’ll just deal with it when it comes. Maybe I’ll want him to kiss me and it will be magical. Maybe I’ll turn and run away screaming into the night. Guess we’ll find out! What nobody here knows is that I’ve never kissed anyone before. It’s a secret I keep to myself. But in my defense, nobody has wanted to kiss me! It’s not like I had a choice. I’ve had many crushes over the years and would have happily kissed them all.

  Macy slides the sticky burgundy wand across my lips. I press them together to smooth it out and then let the lipstick dry. She messes with a few of the already perfect curls she’s slaved over, stopping for a second to touch my obsidian necklace. They know all about it now, so even if it doesn’t look good with this outfit, neither would dare to remove it or make a negative comment.

  Cora rifles through my closet and pulls out my red peacoat. “Wear this one,” she says. “Dresses the look up a bit. Makes you stand out. Not that you don’t already stand out, because you totally do. You’re a babe.”

  I blush and slide into the coat, hug and thank them both, then tuck my keys and phone into my pocket. Ready or not, it’s time for my first ever date. It only took until I was a freshman in college to get asked out, dang it! If only it were a date with a certain someone…

  As I walk down the dorm hallway toward the stairs to the parking lot, I decide to give Landon a chance. I really liked him earlier in the week when I agreed to go, and I can get back to that feeling if it’s the right thing. He’s a great guy. He’s cute and he makes me laugh. With everything going on lately, I need someone who can make me laugh.

  It’s settled. If he tries to kiss me, I’ll kiss him back. I’m positive that one kiss from him will have me forgetting I ever even met Dean Ashton.

  Ha! Yeah, like that’s possible.

  26

  Khali

  I don’t fly south. I need answers, and if anyone has answers, it’s that damned Fae elf.

  Back in my human form, I stalk down the road like a confident predator, no longer caring who, or what, has seen me. I’m certain my magicked storm was witnessed from miles away. Drawing on my elements as I did would have certainly scared off anyone, or anything, that wanted a piece of me. At least, that’s the silly lie I tell myself. I know it’s foolish to stay, but I’m desperate to get my friend back. I need him to get us into the human realm so we can find Dean and ask him about my father’s hex.

  It doesn’t take long to find the nearby village Terek spoke of. If he was lurking around this area when he found Bram and I, and was so adamant we went around it, then chances are he knows somebody living here. Maybe whoever that is, can help me find him, and from there, maybe I can help Bram, because I can’t leave him with that horrid Occultist. Who knows what that creature would do to him. Maybe I can rescue Bram before going for Dean, or more likely, relay some kind of message back to Drakenon. Either way, I have to do something.

  I don’t know what I expected of the Fae village, but I thank the Gods it appears to be elfin and relatively normal. Elves, I can handle. It’s the other forest creatures, the nymphs and huldras and such that I don’t want to deal with right now. I don’t know a lot about them, but if they’re anything like the terrible merfolk that populate the lake near Stoneshearth’s Castle, I don’t want the opportunity to find out.

  The village is designed much like a typical village back in Drakenon. Most of the homes are meager but liveable, comprised of heavy stone and thatched roofs. Others are built of solid brick and mortar, and a few of the largest aren’t ordinary homes but lovely, sprawling estates, laid out with whitewashed walls, dark wooden roofs, and massive lawns with abundant greenery.

  I walk right through the center of town, my senses open to anything that might assist me. This place smells of summer evening sunshine and newly budding florals, of yeasty bread rising and sweet tea melting. I search for anyone who might have answers, but the second anyone here spots me, they scatter away. Much like Terek with his feline tendencies, all the elves are animalistic in their features and movements. A pinkish woman, who resembles a tall bird, loops into a doorway and slams the door shut. A child with a crop of yellow hair and ram’s horns scampers around a corner. He’s on all fours, tufts of fur peeking out from under worn clothes. I frown, wondering again what kind of spell the Occultists used on these people?

  Movement from a nearby window catches my eye and I stop. A woman blinks from behind a thin pane of glass. Her eyes are the largest I’ve ever seen, open saucers of soft brown. I head in her direction, hoping she’ll talk to me. Her home is one of the larger ones and well kept, with a bounteous flower garden out front. Before I can knock on her front door, she opens it.

  “Come in,” she whispers. “Quickly, please.”

  I hold my breath as I step over the threshold. She appears to be quite young, perhaps no older than myself, but I know better than to assume her age. Elves are immortal. They can be killed, of course, but otherwise, they don’t age once they reach maturity. This one is tall and willow thin with skin of beautiful smooth caramel. Little white furred patches perfectly frame her angular face and accent her large, doey eyes. Trademark elven ears poke through long white-blonde curls. She’s gorgeous, the fusion of a deer and an elf woman, and from the way she keeps her distance from me, just as skittish. But it seems she’s willing to talk, so I smile brightly.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “Come.” Her voice is hasty. “We don’t have much time.”

  I follow her into the parlor with walls of polished river rock. The worn ornate rugs and threadbare furniture are perfectly arranged to feel as welcoming as the woman’s startling eyes. This is the kind of place that used to have a staff, but now, its halls feel void of what was once bustling with life. It’s as if she’s the only one left and she’s trying to keep up with appearances in case everyone comes back one day.

  “I’m Khali,” I say, reaching out a hand. She eyes it wearily and doesn’t shake it, but motions for me to have a seat on an emerald green lounger instead. “I’m looking for an elf named Terek. Do you know him?”

  She pauses, and then slowly sits down, still not offering a word.

  “Please,” I continue, urgency rising up in my voice, “my friend is in trouble and I think Terek might know how to help me find him.”

  “Terek needs to take care of himself right now,” the woman snaps.

  Worry floods my system. Worry, and anger. That Occultist was tracking Terek. He led the warlock right to us. I have a right to seek him out!

  “What’s your name?” I ask sweetly, trying to keep the anger inside.

  “Does that matter?” Her expression is grim. “I could die just for talking to you, let alone bringing you into my home, when I should be turning you into the Occultists as they’d wish. Many of my kind have died for much less than opening their door to an outsider. Like I said, let’s make this quick, then please, leave here and never come back.”

  An overwhelming hurt consumes me. I never asked for any of this. If she’d just give me a chance to explain, she’d know that. “I’m not dangerous. I won’t hurt you. I’m looking for allies.”

  “But you are dangerous! You don’t understand,” she continues in a rush. “It’s not safe for us if you’re here. You’ll lead unwanted visitors into our village who will stir up trouble. We have barely survived as it is, and only from obedience to the Sovereign Occultists.” As she says the name of their cult, her face falls into anger, but her voice holds steady
.

  “So do you know where they could have taken my friend?” I lean forward.

  She nibbles at her lip, considering. “There’s nothing you can do for your friend,” she says. “I’m sorry. They take any creatures they find back to the capital city so they can properly spell them, just as they have with all of us. The more powerful of us or the ones with royal blood, they usually just kill them.”

  My breath catches and I choke on my words, not wanting to ask about the spells, not wanting to know about the murders. Maybe this is what happened to my father. Perhaps he was captured and spelled, but he got away somehow.

  “I have to ask,” I say. “Are the Occultist’s spells why you’re all so…” My voice trails off, not sure how to proceed without causing harm.

  “Yes,” she says, understanding. “The spell they’ve used on my people has stifled our magic and is turning us into the animals that we once resembled.”

  It makes sense considering what I’ve seen today, but it’s still hard to imagine what that must be like for this once proud race of magical beings.

  “It takes some time,” she continues on sourly, “and if we behave, they will release the spell from some of us, or lessen it so it’s not as fast. Not many have had that good fortune. The ones who do, well, they’re usually the worst of the traitors to our kind.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I say. An entire kingdom, an entire species, will be lost if this doesn’t stop. Not only did they kill off all the royal lines, but the Occultists conquered the people and are slowly destroying their minds and bodies. If they can do this to the elves, a formidable, strong, and magical people that have been in this land for centuries, what could they do to the dragon shifters? Are we strong enough to fight them? Are we prepared for this?

  “Thank you for answering my questions,” I say. “Where is the capital? What’s it called?”

  She shakes her head violently. “No, you cannot go there. You won’t stand a chance.”

  “I’m the most powerful dragon in Drakenon,” I say simply. “I have to try.”

  She reaches out and takes my hands in hers. The edge of her right hand is rough, having already begun its transformation into a hoof. I swallow hard.

  “Don’t go there,” she continues. “You must go back to Drakenon and convince your armies to help us. We have no other hope. The Occultists have taken over the rest of Eridas. They’ve killed off so many. If they continue this way, you will have no allies to help you when they come for your kingdom, too.”

  I don’t have the heart to tell her that the Brightcasters would never agree to help. They care about protecting their own hides and nobody else. That’s how it’s always been. But with that thought, I wonder how they’ve reacted to my leaving. To Bram, a prince, being gone as well. They might not need him, but they need me. It won’t be until I die that another with my power will be born, and by the time she’s eighteen and of age for marriage and childbearing, it could be too late for the dragons, especially the ruling family.

  My mind flits back to what that Occultist said about my birthday. He claimed to have met me before, to have spelled me. He said that I would be coming to find him once I turned eighteen. Could it be true? A hurried sense of unease washes over me.

  A deep rumbling growl sounds from outside the walls, followed by a hoarse roar that can only mean one thing. I jump up and rush to the window. Outside the house, a black dragon lands, the wind whipping around him. I scurry back from the window.

  “Hide,” I whisper and stalk toward the door.

  The dragon must have shifted back into human form, because a voice shouts my name. A voice I know well. A voice I wish I could never hear again.

  “Khali,” Silas yells. “I know you’re here! Come out before I storm this village to the ground.”

  When he says storm, he literally means it. Silas could use the weather to take down entire buildings. And as an air elemental, had he been in the area, he would have recognized my magic the moment I used air earlier to try to save Bram. There’s no point in hiding. I know what Silas is capable of. He doesn’t care about this village. He only cares for himself.

  I gather my courage, square my shoulders, and stride through the front door.

  “Didn’t you get my note?” I say, raising a confident eyebrow. “I didn’t want to be followed. But of course, you’ve never been one to care about my wishes, now have you, Silas?”

  Silas turns to me with a haughty glare. He’s not alone but that doesn’t surprise me one bit. He has a party of at least ten other Dragon Blessed shifters with him and maybe even more hiding somewhere. They’re all armed with long swords for their human forms. They have spent all of their lives training for and engaging in battle and the cockiness is hard on their faces as they look at me. I glare right back, my magic raging in a cyclone of elements beneath my skin.

  “Fiancé.” Silas stalks forward. “You did not have permission to leave, not then, not now, not ever.”

  “I have to help my father,” I spit. “There was no other way. Now go back to Drakenon before you get yourselves killed. I’ll be back as soon as I find the cure for my father’s curse.”

  “Your father is a lost cause!”

  Anger ripples through me. I hold my stance. “You are a lost cause.”

  “Where’s Bram?” Silas asks, his lip curling. “My brother will have to answer for his sins.”

  I laugh at that. “Don’t you dare speak of answering for sins, Silas. Or did you already forget what happened to your twin?”

  The men surrounding Silas bristle, a few questioning eyes turning in his direction, but he plays his part well, a confused expression masking his true self.

  “Bram was taken by the Occultists,” I snap, getting right to the point. “So if you don’t mind, I’m going to go get him and be on my way.”

  “No,” he presses, “you’re coming home with me.”

  “I’ll return when I’m good and ready!”

  I don’t hesitate. I shift into my dragon, letting her roll over me like a blanket of power, and lift my wings into the sky. Silas and the men also shift with the cracking of bones and the cries of battle, readying themselves to chase me. But there was only one dragon faster than me and Silas killed him. As my wings pump and I zip over the landscape, I deflect the headwind Silas tries to thrust at me. I push the wind back at them, and summon a torrent of prickling rain. Again, just underneath my hide, I can feel something chasing at my magic, something trying to drain it away. I push it down but it exhausts me. I fear I’m running out of time.

  My heart pumps and my thoughts zero in on my next step toward saving my father. I don’t know where Terek is and I don’t know where the capital is and I can’t find the Occultist and Bram without those two things. Now that Silas is on my tail, I can’t stay in this kingdom for much longer. The only person left who might be able to help me save not only my father, but now Bram, is Dean Brightcaster. The first prince. My first kiss. My first love.

  And so, I fly south alone.

  27

  Hazel

  “Do you have room for dessert tonight? Our tiramisu is delicious.” The waiter offers a little black menu, and Landon shoots me a questioning smile.

  I shake my head. “I’m way too full to eat more.” Plus, I’d feel bad to add to the bill. This place isn’t cheap. I was a bit surprised Landon picked it, given that he’s a college student and I know where the guy works.

  “Just the check, thanks,” Landon says and the waiter leaves us to our conversation.

  The Italian restaurant is tucked around the corner from Main Street, between a dry cleaners and a karate studio. Inside the owners have kept everything high end, with black tablecloths and crystal glassware, low lighting and authentic Italian decor. There are only a few other parties dining here tonight, giving the place an even more romantic ambiance. It’s the perfect date restaurant. The food was amazing. The company was even better.

  So why do I feel so guilty? Oh, probably because I know I
shouldn’t have come on this date in the first place.

  A candle’s long flame flickers in the center of the table. The fire reminds me of all the unanswered questions I want to ask Dean, questions about where he comes from, questions about what he meant when he asked me about my father. My mind is so full of these questions that it’s difficult to focus on anything else. Landon doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does, he never indicates anything is off. The guy is as happy-go-lucky as they come.

  A few minutes later, Landon helps me back into my coat. On our way out he holds my hand, threading our fingers together, and leads me to his gigantic white truck. He smells like coffee mixed with spicy citrus cologne. It’s quite nice. But it doesn’t stir me in the same way a certain someone’s woodsy fire and rain scent does.

  I have to use the foot rail to climb into his truck. He gives me a little boost and as I slide into the seat, I catch his blue eyes staring. They are bright and clear and stunning. But they aren’t mysterious. They don’t draw me in and hold me suspended. They don’t shift from fire to coal.

  He smiles that big goofy smile of his. “What are you thinking?”

  “Nothing,” I say, because I don’t have a fair answer to give him.

  I study his dimples for a second. I’ve always loved dimples. Who doesn’t? Landon’s smile comes easy. I don’t have to work for it, and even though I tell myself that’s a great quality in a man, I picture the smile I’ve only witnessed a couple of times. A smile so rare, it’s like catching a shooting star on a moonless night.

  But no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop comparing Landon to Dean. Poor guy.