by Alisa Woods
“He needs a name,” Arabella said, her grin catching up to everyone else’s.
Lucian’s face was still locked up in wonder. In all the worries leading up to this moment, he had never truly believed it would happen. Not until his son appeared before his eyes, blinking up at him and nuzzling his mother. Choosing a name seemed like inviting the fates to curse him once again.
But they hadn’t.
And then it hit Lucian in the chest, a bittersweet feeling that fit just right. “He shall be named Larik. Larik Smoke, dragon prince of the House of Smoke.”
Arabella’s smile dimmed a little. “Your father’s name?”
Of course, she couldn’t know. Not yet. He would tell her, but later. “Yes.” He snuck a look to Leksander. His brother gave him a short nod. Before he could catch Leonidas’s eye, his brother gripped his shoulder, gave it a squeeze, and then turned away, head bent. Leksander went after him, gesturing Erelah to follow.
Lucian turned back to find Cinaed and Rachel had likewise stepped back from the tub. Only they weren’t slipping away—they were locked in an embrace that burned with enough heat to set the forest on fire.
Finally, Lucian’s smile arrived on his face.
Arabella saw them as well and grinned up at him. “Maybe we’ll have another dragonling in the House of Smoke soon.”
“Shhh!” he said, returning her grin and bending close to his beautiful mate and his precious newborn son. “You’ll put a hex on it, if you speak of it too soon.”
She put a hand to his cheek, and he was so relieved to find it the same temperature as his. “It’s never too early to speak of love.”
“You’re right. As usual.” He brushed a soft kiss across the top of his son’s head. Then he leaned in to kiss Arabella’s cheek. “I promise never to argue with you again.”
She laughed, and the water sloshed around her. “Liar.”
He grinned. “Yes, probably so.” Then he kissed her and decided that this moment would never be topped in all the next five hundred years.
In less than twenty-four hours, Arabella was already recovered from the most horrible and wonderful day of her life—the day she became a mom.
She glanced over her shoulder at little Larik. He was wrapped up in a magic-conjured blanket more soft than any human-made material and cuddled up in the crook of his grandmother’s arm. The queen was now the Queen Mother, and while the throne room was filled with the hundred or so dragons of the House, the Queen Mother only had eyes for the tiniest dragon in the room. Arabella didn’t blame her a bit—she could hardly take her eyes off the baby herself—but Arabella knew the sad, sweet smile that lit the graceful Queen Mother’s face was heartbreak mixed with love. The woman had lost her mate and gained a grandson all in one day. And who knew how long the House of Smoke would have its Queen Mother?
Because of that, Arabella fought her natural urge to want Larik in her arms at all times and let the Queen Mother have him whenever she asked. Even Lucian gave the baby over to his mother whenever he caught her gazing at him wistfully. And now that they were back in the throne room, gathered for the coronation, it was the perfect time for grandma to soothe little Larik’s tiny baby protests. For being so fearsome in the womb, he was practically an angel now that he was born. Although she wasn’t sure angel was the right word, now that Arabella knew actual angels—they’d helped bring Larik into the world, but they were much more fierce and strange than her beautiful, perfect, sweet-tempered infant son.
She was just a little bit in love. But then he was Lucian’s baby—how could she not love him?
Arabella turned her gaze back to the gorgeous, gentle man who was her mate, the father of her son… and now, the king of the House of Smoke. His gaze roamed the assembled dragons, down in number by the twenty they lost to the poison. Tytus had been killed, and his demon mercenaries either killed or fled, but the three brothers working together, using all their fae magic, hadn’t been fast enough to save all of those who had been taken down by the dragon-talon-tipped darts and their magical poison. Some had been hit ten or twenty times and were dead before the brothers could even reach them. Some had hung on for longer, but eventually the poison took them. Leonidas and Leksander had left members of their House suffering in order to chase after her and her son. Baby Larik owed them his life… and Leonidas was still paying the price for it. He hadn’t passed away in the night, like so many of the House of Smoke had, and most of the gray pallor had disappeared from his face, but he still appeared drawn and worn.
Lucian told her the poison had nearly brought Leonidas to his wyvern form. They had almost lost him. It made Arabella cry every time she thought of it.
But now he was weaving through the crowd, smiling and clasping hands with the other dragons of the House. Leksander followed behind him, doing the same. They were both working their way toward the front where Lucian was sitting on the throne next to hers.
Queen Arabella. She was pretty sure she would never get used to that.
Lucian caught her staring at the way he filled out his royal tunic with the golden dragon magically emblazoned on the chest. He wore a golden cape, so light the tips floated in the breeze, and a thin circle of gold rested on his head, newly crowned. She had one as well, although her dress looked more like the mating gown she wore just six weeks ago when she agreed to risk her life and her heart to belong to the crown prince of the House of Smoke. The white filmy tendrils of it floated in the same unseen breeze.
Lucian smiled. “I know what you’re thinking, Arabella Sharp.”
“Do you?” she asked with a smirk. “I thought mindreading only happened in dragon form.”
“I don’t have to be a mindreader to recognize that look in your eye.”
“The one that says I can’t believe I’m sitting on this throne?”
He lowered his voice and leaned over the arm of his ornately carved throne chair. “The one that says you can’t wait to come in my bed.”
“Lucian!” She darted a look at the crowd, but if they heard, no one gave notice. “What about the baby?” Although the truth was that her body had already recovered from the near-death experience of giving birth to her dragonling son—the healing power of dragon magic was breathtaking—but with all the turmoil and House matters to be settled and attending to baby Larik, there hadn’t been even a moment of time for her to reconnect with her mate. And she had a powerful, almost overwhelming, urge to do just that—to feel Lucian’s arms around her, to revel in his kisses and his lovemaking. They had made it. She had lived. She had given him a son. And now she had five hundred years to enjoy every inch of his gorgeous, manly form, worry-free.
He winked. “The baby will have to find his own mate. But he has a few hundred years in which to do so.”
She had to bite her lip to hold back the grin. “How soon is this party over?”
He dropped his gaze to her ample breasts—they had grown at least a size, maybe two, since the birth, swelling with magical baby milk to feed her new dragonling. “Not soon enough for me,” he said, his voice full of sexual promise.
Arabella squirmed with the heat gushing to her core. It really couldn’t be right for her to be hot for her mate in the middle of a coronation ceremony—but she couldn’t help herself. Not with Lucian looking at her that way.
A small commotion at the end of the long throne room made Arabella’s heart seize—
But it was only Cinaed and Rachel finally making their entrance.
They checked their hurried pace as they stumbled through the door and all eyes were suddenly on them. Cinaed straightened his long coat—that ancient formal style like Lucian’s, only less royal and minus the golden cape—and Rachel fluttered her hands over the magical dress someone had conjured for her. It was flame-red and emphasized all her curves. She seemed flustered by the sudden attention. Cinaed took her hand and led her down the center aisle. A wave of head-turns and smirks followed them.
Arabella narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing her best friend
as she marched down the room toward the throne. “Do you think they…” She flicked a look to Lucian.
His smirk was halfway to a laugh. “Every dragon in the room can smell the sex on them.”
Oh, gawd. “Keep that to yourself!” she hissed. Rachel would be mortified.
Lucian gave her a quizzical look. “I thought you blessed their—”
“Shh!” she said as they grew close enough to hear. Yes, she wanted Rachel and Cinaed to get together. She hoped they’d spent the last twenty-four hours christening every square inch of the guest apartment. Or Cinaed’s lair. Or the elevator for all she cared. She just didn’t want her best friend to be embarrassed in any way about anything. The romance between them was fresh and new and… Arabella didn’t want it adversely influenced by anything. Not until it had a chance to take root and flower.
Cinaed guided Rachel to the left side of the dais where the two thrones—Arabella’s and Lucian’s—stood, along with the Queen Mother’s seat to the back. On the right, Leksander and Leonidas stood in a similar spot. Now that everyone had arrived, Arabella guessed the ceremony could begin. Rachel continued to fuss and tug at her dress as if the fit on it was almost too tight. Arabella fought off the grin that came with that thought—she was sure Cinaed had conjured it to his own liking. He and Lucian exchanged brief nods. Arabella wondered what exactly that was about, but both dragons seemed pleased with whatever it meant.
Lucian stood and raised his arms to quiet the stray murmurs still going around the room. “Dragons of the House of Smoke, a great tragedy has visited our House.” A hush fell over the crowd. “And a great blessing. We have a new prince…” He swept his hand out and smiled at his mother, who barely looked up from her doting on little Larik. The crowd roared its approval, clapping and stamping their feet. When it settled a little, Lucian added, “And a new queen…” More roaring approval, and Lucian beckoned her to stand. She was more than capable—her legs were strong under her, and the rest of her was quickly forgetting that she’d almost been consumed in a magical fire from the inside out less than twenty-four hours before—but somehow the adoration that was coming in waves made her a little weak behind the knees. All she’d done was love their prince, now king, as they did. But she understood that it was precisely that True Love which had made everything possible.
When the cheering slowed, Lucian finally gave her a nod that let her sit again.
He faced them. “And we have a new king,” he said solemnly. “My father was a great man with a good and wise heart. My son will never know him, and our House has a hole in it where his strength used to live.” There was silence a moment as Lucian seemed to struggle for words.
Arabella clenched the arms of her throne. Her heart hurt for him. She didn’t think there would ever be a time when she wouldn’t want to ease any pain he felt, kiss away any sorrow, any darkness that might loom.
Lucian swallowed and continued. “We lost many good dragons in the last twenty-four hours. Friends. Brothers. Some who leave mates and dragonlings behind. They will always have a home with us, as our own blood, under our care.” A murmur of approval went up with heads nodding all around. “There is much I do not understand about how this attack was able to penetrate our defenses. I promise you, we will get to the root of this demon infestation and all that it means. But in the meantime, I’ve ordered additional security measures and armaments put in place. We have known peace for so long, my friends, so long… but there are things afoot in the magical world, and it is a dangerous time. The Summer Queen warned me, but I didn’t take her meaning at the time. I’m still not sure I do. But my son…” He waved a hand back to Larik and the Queen Mother. “My son secures the treaty for another generation—”
Lucian was cut off by Leksander speaking into his phone. “What?” Leksander’s gaze locked with Lucian’s, eyes wide. “Zephan’s at the perimeter. He’s seeking an audience.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding—”
“He’s saying he’s the representative of the Winter Court, and he’s here to witness the birth. That we’re advised not to deny him.” Leksander scowled, but that had nothing on the panic raging through Arabella’s body.
She jolted up out of her throne chair. “Lucian, no.”
But he was just shaking his head. “The treaty protects Larik, just as it protects any prince of the House of Smoke.”
“That didn’t stop Tytus from nearly killing all of us!” Tears threatened her eyes. She flicked a look to the Queen Mother holding her baby, just to reassure herself they were okay. Lucian’s mother was still seated, but her eyes were set hard.
“I don’t have any direct evidence tying Tytus’s attack to Zephan…”
“Lucian!” She couldn’t believe he would even consider letting that monster into the keep.
Lucian held up his hands. “I’m sure Zephan was involved in some way. I will find out how. But for now, Arabella… there are formalities that keep the peace and fae representatives giving official witness to the birth of the new dragon prince is one of them.”
She just kept shaking her head. Then she left the throne to hustle back to the Queen Mother’s side. Arabella took her baby back in her arms and held him tight. The Queen Mother rose and stood tall, facing Lucian.
“You have to allow it, Lucian,” she said, and there was no question in her voice.
Lucian grimaced and looked back to Leksander.
“I can’t see a way around it, either,” he said with a scowl.
They both looked to Leonidas, but he just shrugged.
Lucian hesitated for a long moment, then he nodded to his brothers. “Protect the prince.” They hustled over to stand on either side of Arabella and Larik and the Queen Mother. Cinaed left Rachel at the side of the throne dais and took a protective stance in front of all of them.
The entire throne room tensed as Lucian lifted his chin to Leksander.
He spoke into the phone. “Let him in.”
Barely a second passed before Zephan appeared at the back of the throne room, obviously using his fae magic to get inside the keep once the wards were down. Heads jerked his way, and a dozen dragons shifted, hyper-vigilant, but they stayed in place. Arabella clutched her baby with both hands as her heart hammered. The Queen Mother moved in front of Arabella and Larik, then shifted and reared up, the full splendor of her golden wings unfurling in front of Arabella and the baby, blocking her view but protecting them.
“Well, there’s no need for panic, House of Smoke,” Zephan said in a casual, droll way that made Arabella’s stomach clench. His voice drew closer as he spoke. Arabella peeked around the Queen Mother’s wings to see him approaching Lucian at his throne. “And I told you before, Lucian Smoke of the House of Smoke… I wished to be notified when the birth of your dragonling was imminent. As you know, it has to be witnessed to be official.”
“Fuck off, Zephan. You sent Tytus to kill my mate and my son.” Lucian’s hands had shifted, and his talons flexed. Several dragons in the crowd edged forward.
Zephan looked offended. “I cannot be held responsible for the actions of some random dragon.”
“He said you were creating demons. Infecting humans—”
“I’m not infecting humans with anything!” Zephan’s voice boomed and vibrated the walls of the throne room. Then he calmed and gave a grim smile. “Take care with your accusations, dragon king. Humans are vile creatures quite capable of their own evil.”
Arabella didn’t believe a word he was saying—supposedly the fae couldn’t lie, but what did that even mean? Zephan was as tricky as they came.
The fae prince let out an elaborate sigh. “Besides, that’s not your biggest problem, King Lucian of the House of Smoke. You have yet to fulfill the treaty.”
Lucian hesitated, and even from the side of the throne dais and behind his mother’s protective golden wings, Arabella could see his teeth grinding. But he turned and gestured to Arabella. “Show him,” he said, tersely.
His mother hesitat
ed, but then shifted back to human, revealing Arabella standing behind her with the baby. Larik made a small sound, a tiny cry, and nuzzled closer against her chest. She held him tight. If Zephan even made a move toward them…
But he didn’t.
Instead, he just shrugged. “Oh yes, I know about the dragonling. I’m sure he’s a fine, strapping little monster. But his birth is far from sufficient to fulfill the treaty.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Lucian demanded.
Zephan held his hands up like he was innocent, but Arabella knew better. She didn’t know how, but she knew Zephan was orchestrating something here. Something awful.
Her stomach clenched as an evil smile snuck on Zephan’s face.
He turned to face the Queen Mother. “Do you recall the controversy, Alexis? When you were first mated to the dearly-departed Larik the Elder? As I recall, you were a dragon mating to another dragon, something that was unprecedented. There was much wagering in the Winter Court as to whether that alone would break the treaty.”
“The treaty held,” Lucian’s mother said, stiffly.
Zephan tilted his head, but the smile was growing into a smirk. “Indeed it did. Your love was True, and we all felt it ripple across magical space, didn’t we?” His eyes glittered. “And then the triplets came, and that was the final reassurance, wasn’t it?” He looked at them each by turns—Arabella, Leonidas, Leksander, Lucian, and then finally the Queen Mother. “Did you feel it again, Alexis? Just yesterday, when little Larik was born? Or were you too mired in the tragic loss of your mate?”
The Queen Mother went rigid, not moving or speaking… but Lucian’s eyes were wide and questioning. Arabella didn’t understand it either.
Zephan’s smirk just grew. “You thought it was a blessing when three sons were given to you, but I knew better. I knew your time was coming to an end.”