by Kym Dillon
There was no way she could accept the diamond now. Never mind his plan for her to deliver it to the general. If Arken failed to reach the Isle of Warriors on his own, then Daya would suggest he enlist Ainley’s help. The least she could do was save him some stress.
“It could work,” she mused aloud as she shoved a leg into a pair of his trousers. “It has to work. It’s our only other option.” She frowned at the fact the pants were several sizes too big, but it beat darting across the hall nude.
On the off chance she ran into Vyda, she wanted the dragon to wonder, instead of knowing they were a pair. And, thinking on it, Vyda was like the enchanted keep. She was utterly perfect, but not quite right. It was a shame that Arken thought her gaffes were simple naïvety.
Daya wasn’t so sure. Vyda seemed smarter than she pretended to be. On the bright side, the striking young blonde wouldn’t become Arken’s mate after she left. “He’ll only be screwing the best of the dragon ladies. Because he has to,” she whispered wryly.
She pulled her hair from the collar of his shirt and fluffed it out at the mirror, frowning at her reflection. She would go to her room and change into clothes that fit. Then, she’d find Arken and try to convince him to recruit Ainley. Not only would it cover her own ass—and give him one less reason to think she was a degenerate criminal—it would protect them both in case Vyda had any other tricks up her sleeve.
Daya gave one last wistful look at his bedchamber before leaving it, presumably forever. Because that was the real crux of the problem. She could love him. She had no control over that. But, she wouldn’t subject herself to the torment of having him physically if she couldn’t have his heart.
Deeper in the night, after dinner and several mental pep-talks, Daya strolled the monolithic corridors of King’s Isle Keep in search of Arken. Liquid courage ran through her veins. He had an impressive stash of drinks, and she had imbibed liberally, but she told herself it was for a good cause. She needed the chutzpah to make Arken see things her way.
She checked his room and the library. She tried the hall of treasure, but he wasn’t in his usual haunts. Neither was Vyda.
As a creeping sense of uneasiness washed over her, Daya explored the rest of the keep and still didn’t see him anywhere. She found other bedrooms frozen in stasis, as if waiting for guests that would never return. She discovered a hidden room filled with portraits of dragons. That one stole her breath. She read the names beneath each painting and tried to assign them to family members Arken had mentioned, but she realized there was plenty about the dragon king that she didn’t know.
Daya was about to give up and wait for him to come to her, when she saw a shadowy staircase on the upper level that she hadn’t noticed before.
She stood at the foot of the stairs, unsure of whether to proceed. With both dragons missing, her mind conjured nightmares of finding them together locked in bliss. She knew she had no official hold on Arken, but she couldn’t bear the thought.
Daya exhaled forcefully and shoved her hands through her hair. “This is ridiculous. Just go!” she ordered herself. She launched up the first few steps and hesitated. “He’s not with her. Not like that.” Only, he could be. He had broken the mating rules with her. What would stop him from breaking the rules again with Vyda? By his own admission, dragons were polyamorous.
Scowling, Daya continued up the staircase. It deposited her on the very roof of the keep. The building disappeared into the mountains and seemed a hybrid of carved stone and natural rock. It was magnificent against the clear night sky. The wind whipped around the parapets and tugged at her hair and clothes. She squinted against the gales as she braided the dark tresses and tugged the braid into a knot.
Within seconds, she spotted Arken and Vyda talking animatedly several paces away. Daya didn’t want to interrupt (or spy), but she was curious. She made herself inconspicuous and crept closer. The gusty wind made it difficult to hear what they were saying, but she caught snatches of the conversation.
Daya moved into the inky shadows of an overhang and pressed her lithe body to the wall, tilting her head toward them. She heard Vyda crying.
“Perhaps we can forget the decoy,” the dragon warrior pleaded. “The treaty says Feis can’t attempt to enter the keep. If I return to her and convince her you’ve already gone, I can get her to make that attempt! Then, you and I can travel to the Isle of Warriors together. The Heart of the Dragon will keep us safe.”
“I know you’re concerned Feis will discover the stone is a fake, but even if she does, you can pretend I tricked you. It’ll buy me some time! I just need Feis to halt her plans so we can get a message to my sister, which you can do from the city,” Arken explained desperately. “Look for a man named Neigen. He’ll help you. I know he will.”
Vyda shook her head. “I’ll be killed,” she whimpered. “Oh, I wish she had never come!”
He straightened and sighed, his expression grim. “This isn’t about Daya. This is about saving our race. You have to see the merit in doing this my way.”
“You love her.”
“Vyda.” He dropped his head. The dragon warrior pushed closer and laid her head on his chest. He held his arms away from her body and looked down at her with regret and dismay warring on his face. Sighing, he wrapped her in a hug.
“It’s alright,” she sniffed. “I understand. She’s so different from us, and that can be alluring. You’ve been alone for such a time that anything new must seem a blessing. If only I hadn’t been injured when we met.”
“You want me to forget that you deceived me.” He set her away and looked her in the eyes. “To pretend,” he continued, “you didn’t come here with bad intentions. You were injured when we met, yes; but, I nursed you back to health. You played upon my kindness, and now we are here…in a place where, even if the rules were different, I could never make you mine.”
“Did she not deceive you as well?”
He squared his jaw as his nostrils flared gently. “She told me plainly that she was after the stone. I deceived her.”
“But, she would have, if she had known you,” Vyda countered. She cupped Arken’s face. “I only beg that you see the human has less to lose. She knows you’ll find a way to defeat Feis, and her world will be saved. But, I? I will lose, regardless of if we win if I can’t have you.
“My lineage is strong. In my family, we’ve produced mostly sons. I could give you an heir that you could be proud of. It’s only by chance that I wasn’t considered among the number of the strongest female warriors. The rank was stolen from me because someone had to watch the nest. With our numbers so low, I was chosen. Yet, under any other circumstances, I could be your—”
“Vyda, the decision is final,” Arken interrupted her. “I’m sorry fate has forced the dragons to send healthy, strong warriors to be nursemaids, but I can’t undo that. You were not elevated to the place you feel was rightfully yours, and so you are not in the running.”
“Well, then, I won’t go with you,” Vyda gasped.
“What? Vyda, I need every warrior!”
“Every warrior to die for you. I won’t risk my life for someone who can’t even see me. I won’t go.”
He turned from her and gazed out at the kingdom. “Fine,” he growled. “Stay.”
Daya studied him. His head was bowed, and his broad shoulders were rounded as he braced his hands on the stone balustrade and leaned forward. She wanted to go to him. He seemed in emotional turmoil. He looked so alone. However, it wasn’t her place to comfort him. He had made his bed.
She looked at Vyda, who hugged herself with silent tears streaming down her face. For the first time, Daya understood her jealousy. She imagined how she would feel in Vyda’s place. In fact, she knew. Daya had always known her life would be much better if fate hadn’t taken her parents.
Her father had fostered in her a love of precious gems. She might be an appraiser, instead of a jewel thief. She might never have been reduced to a life of crime to feed and take care of
herself. She’d have the love and affection she had known as a child, and she wouldn’t have seduced men like Marco to buy herself security.
She realized she had plenty in common with the dragon warrior. They were both victims of circumstances beyond their control. And, neither of them could have Arken. As he said, the decision was final. When he returned to the Isle of Warriors, he would select a mate who would bear him fine sons and extend the lifetime of their race.
Vyda wasn’t the enemy. They were both in the same boat.
Daya returned to her room without revealing her new idea to Arken. She couldn’t talk to him. She couldn’t help but feel he was succumbing to the wrong urges. She knew he was a man who valued rules and order, but sometimes the rules were wrong.
She whispered the power word she had heard him speak many times now, and the candles in her bedchamber flared to life. The music device answered to her request for something soothing. The sounds of a stringed instrument filled the room. She plopped in a chair, wondering what would happen next.
How soon would he be ready for battle? Would she be required to make the trip or just Vyda? Sniffling, Daya dashed a tear and tried to lose herself in a book, but the rambling history of dragons did little to hold her attention this time. She looked up from the pages in surprise when the door to her room opened.
Arken stood at the threshold with an uncertain half-smile. She swiped the back of her hand under her nose and dried her eyes, asking, “What do you need?”
“A listening ear,” he murmured, strolling deeper into the room. “Were you crying?”
“No, of course not. It’s allergies. From the book. The dust.” She sniffed again and put the book aside. He settled nearby on the edge of her bed, studying her with brooding black eyes. He reached for her hand, and she let him lace his fingers with hers. There was a gulf between them. Her arm felt heavy; yet, she didn’t drop his hand.
“I did something while you were sleeping,” he said. “I left the keep and walked through the woods. I wanted to see if you were right about the treaty already being broken. If so, I could leave here without being turned around.”
“Did it work?” She lifted a brow. He shook his head and let her hand go. She placed it in her lap, missing the warmth of his fingers.
“It didn’t. The spell is still in place, and Vyda received word from Feis that they’re preparing ships to depart for the Isle of Warriors within the month. It’s a treacherous journey by sea, and it might take them a fortnight or more to reach it, but our time is running out.”
Daya swallowed thickly. It meant she’d have less time with him. “Does that mean a change of plans?” she asked quietly. “Because I was thinking you could get Ainley to deliver the stone for you.”
“It’s something I’ll have to risk alone. Vyda has decided she doesn’t want to help.”
Daya pretended she didn’t already know. “Can’t you order her to?”
“I could, but I won’t.” He sighed and rested his elbows on his knees, pushing his fingers through his black, shoulder-length hair. “I fear I’ve become the worst kind of ruler. The kind that can’t get respect and can’t get anything done.” He chuckled without humor and looked up at her. “But, you see, I was never meant to be king.”
“Why do you say that?” She curled her feet beneath her and leaned closer to him. The soothing music swirled around them, and his soft, melodic voice changed the mood. She wanted to learn more about him. Memories for when they had to say goodbye.
“I had three brothers,” he murmured. “Eles, Jos and Basyr. I was the youngest son. My sister, Gaova is younger, still. For a hundred blissful years in our youth, this world lived in harmony, and the high priestesses served us. But, there was already evidence of things changing.”
“I read about it in the history book,” Daya replied. “The high priestesses fell out of favor. They learned they could become immortal by eating dragons.”
“We knew they would turn against us. Gaova started training in the military as soon as she came of age. Our females are considered superior warriors because they fight more viciously to protect the young.”
“What did you do while she was training?”
“I took everything less seriously,” he laughed. “I was trained in the art of diplomacy. Ergo, I’m much more familiar with mitigating violence. Don’t get me wrong. I’m a formidable defender. However, when I think of war…I think of death. Nothing but death and destruction.
“For two hundred years, we fought and lost ground against the dragon eaters,” he explained. “Jos and our parents were killed in the First Great War. The dragons were corralled into smaller and smaller corners of the realm. Eles fell while leading a migration to the Isle of Warriors. We went from thousands to hundreds. Then, dozens as the Second Great War.” He blew out a breath.
“I can’t imagine what that was like,” she whispered. She thought of her world, of genocides and refugees. She had never been on the receiving end of such existential threats. Arken had.
“When only Basyr and I were left,” he murmured, “he sent me to negotiate with Feis, and I received unexpected help from an elemental I met once in a dream. Basyr knew our most prized possession had to be protected. I was with the dragon eater, seconds from signing the treaty, when her huntsmen discovered him here at the keep.
“Feis had no clue she was signing away her chance to receive the powerful stone, but I knew. I came back here to bide my time. The war I’ve wanted to avoid has been simmering for four hundred years while I hibernated and waited for the signs. Everything that has happened since your arrival has made it clear, the time is now. I just didn’t expect to be at such a disadvantage.”
“It all depends on how you look at it,” Daya stated. “You have the stone, and you have an army of dragons who want nothing more than to destroy the dragon eaters and everything they stand for.” She hesitated before finding the courage to add, “And, you have me.”
He sat back with his arms crossed and a hand over his mouth. “Daya, I don’t know what to do with you. I can’t trust you…I shouldn’t love you, but…I want you here by my side so much.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat and looked away.
There was a new tension in the room. She slowly moved from the chair and poured her body into his lap. There was nothing sexual about the move. She simply wanted to be close to him. Daya cupped his face in her palms and brought his eyes down to stare into hers. She pressed her forehead to his and breathed in the scent of him.
“I want to be here,” she whispered.
“Forever?” he asked with furrowed brow. “Because there is a way, Daya. There’s a way for you to be with me forever.” His lips whispered over hers, and she helplessly chased his mouth. The kiss was tender and sweet, and she didn’t want to stop.
She broke away to reply, “I don’t understand.”
“It would mean giving up your world and never looking back,” he said.
Daya’s eyes swept over his face as his words sunk in. She realized what he meant. The Heart of the Dragon could transform her. She could be a dragon and remain in the Fire Realm. She could fight at his side as a valuable asset, a warrior. She dropped her gaze as she considered the limitations of that option.
“I’d give up everything, and you’d still be obligated to choose another mate,” she whispered, shaking her head. Tears spiked her lashes. “You can’t promise me forever, Arken. So, make no promises, and I’ll spare you the same.”
10
Arken touched down in the Realm of Dreams and called Ainley’s name. The bony ridge of his brow deepened in a frown at the sight he encountered. Gone was the lush green island. He crashed through a dark landscape of gnarled trees that grew twisted up the mountainside. Branches like hands snagged his scales as he stumbled through the forest. It was like a clouded mirror image of his world.
His obsidian claws grazed the scorched earth, and he sprinted through blackened grass to take to the sky again. The wind carried the smell of rot
ting corpses. His wings beat the air, and he charged higher to see more of the destruction. Everywhere his eyes touched was transformed into wasteland.
Fields that were plowed and fertile on his side of reality were rendered to dry earth. Where the city should be, plumes of smoke rose from still burning fires. He saw charred skeletal remains. The ocean in the far distance glimmered like waves of blood, and the sky was thick with storm clouds. He roared in anguish and dove toward the hills.
“Ainley!” he shouted.
Arken fled to the cliff where the keep was hidden from view. He called it to mind, and the walls leapt into existence. His massive wings folded against his lumbering body as his feet touched the parapet and he transformed. He had never taken man-shape in this realm, but he needed to see if this nightmare extended to home.
Another howl of stark disbelief tore from his throat as he raced through rooms that were empty of belongings. It was like a mausoleum, cold and barren. Shadows lurked in every corner, and spider webs clung to the walls. He clutched fistfuls of his hair and spun in circles, staring in horror at everything he saw.
“Ainley, please!” he begged. “Come to me!”
He heard nothing but the hollow echo of his own voice, and his panic climbed. In his reality, he kicked the sheets from his sweating body and groaned in pain. He thrashed his head on the pillow, but he couldn’t wake up.
“What’s going on?” he whispered, panting. His breath puffed before his face, and he realized it was freezing. This wasn’t right. The Realm of Dreams had always been a reflection of his world in the way he liked to remember it best. Without the city. Without Feis. A land of craggy mountains and vast wildlands.