by Haley Ryan
“Green dragons can change their faces,” Draven murmured from behind me. “Whoever she is, she must have taken Morghaine’s place.”
“But when?” The words tore up an already wounded place deep inside, the same part of me that wondered whether she hadn’t come back because of me. “Wouldn’t I have known? How could she be a different person, and I didn’t know?”
Declan took five long strides, grabbed my hands, and pressed his forehead against mine. I felt him flinch as my pain hit him, but he didn’t back down. “You were a child, Kira. You trusted, as every child should feel safe to do, and no one would ever have expected otherwise.”
“She had the ring!” I cried. “She knew me. Told me she loved me. We were a family. She was all I had, but that was enough, so how could it all be a lie?”
I was crying.
So many tears.
It felt like a dam had broken somewhere inside, and what rushed out was nothing but pain. Confusion. Betrayal.
I backed away from Declan, knowing I was hurting him and hating myself for it. Reached out blindly, my emotions in free-fall with no end in sight.
Draven caught me. Like a lifeline, his arm wrapped around my shoulders and pulled me in, turning me away from the others as I began to tremble uncontrollably.
“You’re in shock,” he said quietly. “Just breathe. Remember to breathe.”
How could I breathe? My lungs had just been viciously yanked from my body by the evidence of a staggering lie.
My whole life had been a lie.
“Why did she pretend?” I whispered against Draven’s chest. “Why did she even care whether I loved her?”
My guardian, whoever she was, had stolen someone else’s life in order to raise me. Not only stolen it, but had sold my true guardian into the hell of torture and imprisonment.
Draven had been right—that green dragon we saw had not been a prisoner, she had been a collaborator. The ring she wore had borne a scar, right across the face of it, and now I knew why.
She betrayed the real Morghaine, and she had betrayed me.
“That’s how Llyr knew,” I said, and my head lifted, a sudden surge of fury cutting off my tears. “That’s how Llyr knew there was a bronze dragon. She told him.”
Memories ambushed me. Little pieces of truth I’d never been able to put together before, now suddenly made sense.
“It happened when I was eight,” I told them, sealing off my pain as the words tumbled out. “I don’t know how, I don’t know exactly when, but I know things were suddenly different. We moved to Oklahoma. She put me in school. Gave me a bracelet that kept me from shifting. She started dating an elemental, even made friends with a neighbor, when she’d never done either of those things before. And she started disappearing for a few days every so often.”
“That would make sense—”
I didn’t let Callum finish.
“She was raising me to sell.”
Horrified expressions answered me.
“Raising me for my skin. I thought her friend Misty had betrayed us, but it was her all along. Llyr as good as told me, but I wasn’t listening. He must have promised her something in exchange for me, but what?”
How much was I worth? What prize was worth betraying the trust of a child?
Suddenly, I had to get out of that room. It was too small, and there was too much pain in it.
So I yanked the door open and ran. Down the hallway, towards the foyer, and towards freedom.
But I never got there.
I skidded to a stop beside the fountain when I saw who was standing in the open doorway.
A woman I knew—average height, with warm, golden brown skin, lithe curves, and fiercely curly brown hair kissed with gold. At least, normally it was brown.
At the moment, it was fire orange, because she was literally on fire.
My friend Wynter was a fire elemental, and she stood there alone, holding half a dozen dragons at bay with the fury of her magic and the gleaming edge of a sword almost as long as she was tall.
“Wynter?”
“Call off the dragons, Kira.”
“They won’t listen to me,” I told her honestly. But I walked towards her until the flames became uncomfortable and turned to face the hostile expressions. “This is a friend. She’s here to see me. So can you all just back down before she sets the whole building on fire?”
Nobody moved.
“See?” I struggled to contain my bitterness and anger. “What are you doing here, anyway? I looked for you for months in OKC.”
“I wish I was here to see you, Kira.”
I surveyed the grim set of her features. “I don’t think I can take any more bad news right now. Who is it?”
“I need Draven.”
There was no need to go looking. My brothers, Draven, and Lady Tairen strode around the corner, following my hasty flight.
“Wynter?” Draven quickly stepped to the forefront, correctly interpreting the hostile gazes around us.
“Lord Elduvar.” Wynter straightened, and the flames surrounding her died away into mere flickers of orange light. “I bring you a message from the Fae Court, from the hand of Her Majesty the Queen, Elayara Elduvar.”
Draven froze. Callum growled under his breath. And Lady Tairen’s eyes began to glow.
“Everyone out,” she rumbled, and the other dragons scrambled to obey. When the foyer was empty except for us, she inclined her head to Wynter.
“You may speak,” she snapped.
“My message,” Wynter said, “is for Lord Elduvar. Should he choose to share it, that is his decision alone.”
She held out an archaic-looking piece of rolled paper bearing a wax seal—just like my summons.
Draven took it. Snapped the seal.
His eyes flashed silver as he read, and lightning began to spark from his fingers, his arms, even his hair.
When his gaze snapped to mine, he was no longer my quiet, reserved partner, content to fade into the background while he supported me through my trials with his compassionate strength.
He was Lord Draven Elduvar. Son of the fae king. Gryphon shifter and mysterious assassin.
And he was seriously pissed off.
But it was only because I knew him that I could see he was also afraid.
“This was the purpose of my summons,” he said, and power crackled through every word. “Lady Tairen, be advised that His Majesty, King Dathair, is no longer in a place of power at the Court of the Fae. He has disappeared, and during this time of uncertainty, Her Majesty, Lady Elayara Elduvar, has assumed leadership. In her capacity as queen, she has ordered me to immediately bring justice according to the findings of the fae investigation into the matter of the former seneschal known as Morghaine.”
“And your orders?” Lady Tairen’s voice was cold and deep as the heart of winter.
“To enact the sentence of death, handed down as just recompense for her unquestioned role in the treasonous plot of Llyr Elduvar against his sovereign and his court.”
Silence reigned for a moment, then two, until broken by the strangely thoughtful voice of Callum.
“And will you carry out this sentence?”
“It is the will of my queen.” Draven’s voice was implacable, his expression bleak as he refused to meet my eyes. “In such, I have no choice.”
“Even if our court has a prior claim to justice in this matter?”
He nodded.
I saw Wynter’s eyes darting back and forth between the players in this little drama, understanding that all was not as it appeared, but not yet privy to several pieces of necessary information.
I anticipated a fight. I fully expected Lady Tairen to cry foul and order Draven bound and held until the dragons captured Morghaine for themselves.
But she surprised me. “And you will, I assume, depart immediately and carry out this sentence without delay?”
Draven nodded again, his jaw clenched. He wanted to be gone already.
“Very well
.”
My jaw dropped. My brothers’ followed suit.
“I would consider it a courtesy if you would inform me when the matter is concluded,” Lady Tairen continued. “But there will be no need for you to do so in person. A message will suffice.”
And that’s when I figured it out.
She had no intention of allowing him to get anywhere near the dragon who called herself Morghaine. She was counting on Callum to reach the traitor first, but taking advantage of the opportunity to remove Draven from the enclave, thus removing him from my immediate vicinity. Once he was gone, she would ensure he was never allowed to return. Never permitted to see me again. She hoped to persuade me that it wasn’t worth the effort to pursue our relationship.
My mother had a lot to learn about me.
And about Draven.
Because in all the years they’d both spent looking for Morghaine, it was Draven who’d found her first. I knew I could count on him to find her again, and I fully intended to be there when he did.
No one was going to kill the woman who called herself Morghaine until I’d had a chance to talk to her.
Draven threw me one last glance as he strode past me on his way out, and I could see his fear as clearly as if he’d written it across his forehead. He was afraid that what he’d been given to do might make me change my mind. Afraid I would choose to stay.
And he was also afraid that I might try to go with him—there was some part of that message he hadn’t shared with anyone yet.
But I could deal with him later. First, it was time to deal with my family. Because as much as I loved them, we’d arrived at a crossroads, and all of us had to decide which way we were going to go from here.
“Kira,” Lady Tairen said, “we must talk. This information changes much, but it doesn’t change everything. You have won the challenge, and you are still my heir. Everything else can be worked out in time.”
I turned to face her. Took in a deep breath and let it out. “Yes,” I said. “We do need to talk. But not about what you think. Because I’ve already decided.”
And I had. There was no doubt left in me now.
“First of all, you should know that I love you.”
Her eyes widened, and her chin quivered.
“I love you, and I love my brothers. But I can’t stay here.”
That had not been what she expected me to say, and the information clearly didn’t quite compute.
“This is your home!” she insisted, looking stunned. “With us. With your family, and with other dragons. You are new, and there is always some discomfort with anything that is new and unfamiliar. They will become accustomed to you in time. But if you leave?” Her voice rose. “You will be unprotected! The news of what you are will spread, and there will be hunters and mercenaries from every corner of the world converging to hunt you down. How can you ask me to sit by and allow that?”
“I’m not asking,” I said, straightening my shoulders and holding my head high. “You want me to be Kirasha-li-Tairen. And maybe I am, but you’re forgetting that I’ll be twenty in a week and a half, and for all but a few months of that time, I’ve been Kira Everleigh.
“And that means I’m still at least a little bit human.” I looked at the floor and smiled, because I’d finally realized the truth. “And whether you understand why or not, I like that part of myself. I love books and tea and barbecue. I love my creaky old house. I love living on Twenty-third Street and hanging out with my friends at The Portal.”
That was all true, but I couldn’t deny the other side of me either. Because I loved being a dragon, too. I just wasn’t sure I could be the dragon they wanted me to be.
“Over the past few weeks, I’ve had to contend with a lot of new things—being a daughter, a sister, and a bronze dragon, with all of the strange new powers that entails. And I’ve just discovered that most of my childhood was based on an unimaginable lie. I was betrayed by the person I thought loved me the most. And I need to deal with that. In my own time, in my own way, and I can’t do it here.”
“Why not?” My mother’s voice came out in a hoarse rasp.
“Because I need to go home,” I said simply.
Something in her face seemed to die. “Is this about the fae?” she asked in a hollow tone. “Are you choosing him over us?”
“I’m not choosing anyone over anyone else,” I said softly. “Unless you force me to.”
The words fell into the sudden silence like the challenge they were, but I did not wish them back.
“You’re a princess of dragons,” Lady Tairen reminded me. “That means your life is not entirely your own.”
“I am many things,” I amended. “And being a princess is not just about the blood that runs through my veins. You would have me act as though fate controls my destiny, but I still have a choice. There is always a choice, even for you, if you’re willing to see it.”
Her expression grew stormy. “So this is your decision? You would lay aside your family and your position for what—a house full of old books and a half-fae who just walked away from you for the third time?”
This wasn’t where I wanted the conversation to end, but I couldn’t change her mind for her. Couldn’t help her decide to accept me for who I was, not who she’d always hoped I would be.
“I don’t want to lay any of you aside. My life is big enough for friends and family, no matter what they look like or who they are. I want to learn what it means to be a bronze dragon, and figure out how to use whatever gifts I have for the good of this enclave.” And I meant it. Despite everything, I didn’t want to waste what I’d been given. Bronze dragons existed for a reason, and if I could help balance the factions that were even now struggling for control, I wanted to do everything I could to bring stability.
“But I won’t do it as a puppet,” I said, as gently as possible. “I’m asking you to understand that, for right now, I need time. I need space to grieve. But I can’t do that here, and I’m hoping you can respect my choice.”
“I won’t tie my family to a fae,” my mother said. “That is one choice I can never respect.”
Somehow, she was still stuck on Draven and hadn’t really heard anything else. Her life had been so completely dedicated to her people—to serving, protecting, and guiding them—that they were now all she could see. All she had room for in her heart.
But if those sacrifices were to have meaning, she needed someone to carry on after her. Someone who could understand her single-minded focus and dedicate themselves to the same causes.
That person wasn’t me. Not, in the end, because I felt too small to take on such a responsibility, but because my life was already bigger than this. There were too many people, too many places I cared about. I wanted this place, and these people, to be among them, but they would never be the only ones. And I didn’t know whether Lady Tairen would ever be able to accept that.
My heart broke a little as I realized what I might have to give up to keep my freedom, but I nodded to her without letting those feelings show. “And do the rest of you feel the same way?”
I expected Ryker to hesitate. Declan to ask us to work it out. Callum to side with the queen.
They all managed to surprise me.
“Draven Elduvar is a decent and honorable man,” Callum said, giving me a grim but unwavering nod. “I would not hesitate to entrust him with my sister, or to consider him an ally.”
I couldn’t quite process my shock. After Callum’s first fight with Draven, I’d never expected to hear him say such a thing.
Lady Tairen whirled to face him, looking as though the floor had fallen out from under her.
“Callum! This is a betrayal of everything we’ve ever stood for!”
“No.” He did not bend. “This is a step away from blind prejudice. And a step towards trusting Kira with her own decisions. She’s an adult, Mother. And she’s your daughter.” He smiled at me, a little crookedly. “She was never going to do things the easy way. And if we don’t respect
that, I’m afraid we may lose her, something I’m not willing to see happen.”
“Do you mean it?” I whispered, hardly daring to believe that my grumpy, disapproving big brother had almost admitted…
“You’re my sister, and I love you.”
Well, now I was crying again.
“Geez, did it take you that long to figure it out?” Ryker interjected, shooting his brother a look of deep and enduring disgust. “Because we all love her, or none of this would be so difficult. Thanks a lot, Kira.” His familiar wink and grin punctuated that statement, making me snort through my tears.
“You’re a jerk, Ryker.”
“The most lovable jerk you’ll ever meet.” Which was no less than the truth.
“Mom,” Declan said simply, “he loves her. You don’t have to let this come between you.”
She threw up her hands helplessly. “But I do,” she insisted. “I can’t pretend to support these choices. I can’t pretend that it won’t break me to watch you go. Watch you throw your life away when so much has been sacrificed for you already.”
“Then,” I said, wiping tears from my cheeks, “I can only hope that someday you won’t see my life as a waste.”
She met my eyes one last time. “I can’t promise that,” she said.
And walked away.
So much of me was broken already that I almost didn’t feel her departure. Almost managed to pretend it didn’t deal a staggering blow to what was left of my heart.
But it did. She was my mother. She was supposed to love me completely and without reservation. Instead, it seemed that she really did believe what she’d told me—that feelings were foolish. That continuity and tradition were all that mattered.
Maybe the only thing she ever loved about me was what I represented—the continuation of her line and the hope of preserving what she’d built.
So maybe I was a fool to keep hoping for more.
But I couldn’t quite bring myself to believe that she felt nothing. I’d seen the tears in her eyes, felt the tremors in her hands when she touched my face for the first time since losing me as an infant. Heard the longing in her mental voice when she called me “dear one” and said that I was beautiful.