Fractured Souls (Soul of a Dragon Book 3)

by Clara Hartley

  “Sure you are.” Pollick leaned back and crossed his arms.

  “So how do I make him like me?” she asked, eyes twinkling.

  “I’m not the most experienced with things like that. I met Millie by accident, and before that I wasn’t exactly a ladies’ man.” He scratched his beard.

  She inched forward. “You’re more experienced than me, at least.” Mama always tried to put her in frilly frocks and dresses. Reiana hated that. She had so much more movement with pants.

  Uncle Pollick cocked his head. “Thought you said you were an adult?”

  “I am. Just less…” She waved her hand about. “I’m not into the kissy stuff.”

  “Right…” He squinted at her, doubt painted all over his face. “Uh… I think you simply need to play hard to get, you know? Make it difficult for him to talk to you and all that.”

  She straightened. “What? But that doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It makes complete sense. Men like the chase. Dragon males, especially. If you swish your tail about him a little bit then walk away, he’ll come running after you like you’re candy—”

  “Dragons don’t like candy.”

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s an expression.”

  “What’s an ‘expression’?” she asked.

  “And this is why you should be going to school.”

  “I can fight.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “Then what do you mean?”

  Uncle Pollick sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Let’s get back on topic. I mean, don’t smother the lad with all your attention. That’ll turn the poor boy off.”

  “Play hard to get,” she said, making a mental note. She hopped to her feet and made her way toward the exit. “Thank you very much, Uncle Pollick.”

  “Glad to be of service.” He made a toast to her with his mug and took another sip. He always said it was water, but she guessed it was something else. Her nose could smell the difference.

  “Oh, and uncle?”

  “Hm?”

  “Is that true about what they say? That you killed the Dragon Mother?”

  His expression darkened into annoyance. “Where’d you hear that from? Thought that I got rid of that bloody rumor years ago.”

  “Some of the boys were talking about it.”

  He swatted the air, as if that would make the rumor go away. “Don’t listen to them. People like to spread rumors about the foul-faced man sitting on the edge of the cliffs.”

  “Yeah, I knew they were bluffing. You don’t seem like the type.” She shut the door behind her.

  She heard, “Oi! What’s that supposed to mean?” through the door. She shrugged and summoned her little wings from her back. It hurt to do so, but flying was worth it. She hurried over to Dragon Keep. Favian was waiting for her.

  “Where’s our daughter?” Constance asked Rayse, who was standing beside her. His throne was a few steps above them, but he didn’t want to be sitting on it when greeting Aryana and Diovan. They weren’t supposed to be in a position of power when with the pair, unlike when with the rest of their subjects. The two had helped them so much during their ordeal with the Dragon Mother. They were equals.

  “Probably haunting the dreams of dragonling boys,” Rayse said.

  She frowned at him. “We promised Aryana that her son would meet her today. He expressed a lot of eagerness for their second meeting.”

  “Reiana will be here. She nearly lost her panties the last time she met Favian. I’m contemplating whether to kill the boy or not. I don’t like the way he looks at her.”

  “Rayse!”

  He chuckled.

  The door to the hall opened, and Aryana and Diovan stepped in, along with their two sons. Favian was a ten-year-old dragonling with the sweetest disposition. Constance was befuddled as to why Reiana and him were so drawn to each other. It could simply be a childhood crush. Or they could be mates. Aryana and Constance had actually been hoping for that, and Diovan had chipped in with an unhealthy suggestion to place a bet for when they came of age.

  Betting on their children’s futures. Diovan was mad. And Aryana had agreed. They were waiting for Constance’s response, and she had half a mind to think that she herself was mad, too.

  A little gambling couldn’t hurt, right?

  “Where’s Reiana?” Favian asked, before his parents could sound their greetings.

  “Don’t be rude, child,” Aryana said. “You have to greet your elders first.”

  Diovan laughed. “He’s a skirt chaser. Just like his father.” Aryana elbowed his side, eliciting a wince from him.

  “Reiana is late,” Constance said to the boy. “She’ll be here—”

  She spotted her daughter flying through the entrance.

  “Reiana, how many times must I tell you not to fly in the hallways!”

  Her daughter crashed to a stop. She transitioned from a midair somersault to a roll over the ground, before skidding to her feet. That was the most haphazard landing Constance had ever seen a dragonling do, but she couldn’t help but be a little bit impressed. Reiana got up, flushed, her cheeks as red as the setting sun, and pointed a finger at Favian. “Favian!” she announced. “You shouldn’t talk to me!”

  They all stared at her, mouths agape, and Favian’s jaw was the lowest of them all. He inched back then bit his lip, almost like he was stifling a cry.

  Reiana whipped around and stormed out of the room.

  Recovering from her speechlessness, Constance said, “Uh, sorry about that. My daughter can be… strange.” She turned to look at Rayse, who seemed pretty pleased with himself. She kneed his left leg with her right.

  “Oh, yes,” he said, still not wiping the smile from his lips. “Terribly sorry. Anyway, onto the matter. We’re almost ready to move. You can talk to Emilia later. She has most of the preparations in order. Shen’s working with the humans, mostly. He’s trying to teach them the technology we managed to get from Ayesrial. We’re trying to think of a new name for the whole region, once Yvrdeen and Falron are combined.”

  “The witches are almost done with their pathway to Ayesrial,” Aryana said. “We won’t need dark magic to enter it anymore. It’s a lot easier to craft a portal without the Dragon Mother’s barrier blocking us.”

  Favian was muttering something to himself. He strolled to a corner and sat in one of the chairs, sulking. His older brother strode over to comfort him. Constance made a mental note to have a long, serious talk with Reiana later. “The tunnel will be ready next week.”

  The dragons and witches were excavating a tunnel through the Everpeak mountains, so that the humans wouldn’t have to rely on dragons to do their transportation for them anymore. The project seemed monumental at first, since most of the mountain was filled with dragon stone, an incredibly hard ore. But with the help of the water witches, they had managed to combine both magic and dragon prowess to perform the impossible. It took a lot of creativity, since magic couldn’t react with the dragon stone itself.

  After the tunnel was finished, the dragons would move to Ayesrial. News from Jura mentioned the city going through bad government. Dragon Mother supporters were out of hiding and were trying to rile up chaos through stealthier, more political means. The Ayesrialians didn’t have proper leadership to guide them. Catrina had many supporters in Ayesrial, and Constance’s intervention would solve many problems.

  Dragons and humans found it difficult to live with each other. Dragons were too destructive, and humans too vulnerable. As a solution, Constance and Rayse had decided to bring as many dragons as they could to Ayesrial, and most Ayesrialian humans would move to Yvrdeen and Falron, to repopulate and rebuild.

  Previously, such a notion would be impossible to accept, for dragons needed human females to mate. The Mother’s disappearance seemed to spark a new wave of female dragons, however. She had likely been doing something to throw the balance of the dragon species off, so only males were born, to give her more attention as one of the f
ew dragon females.

  It was an ambitious plan, but they were making it work.

  “Sounds like everything is in order, then,” Diovan said. “Tell me when I can send for my men. Meanwhile…” He snatched a box of Oweeja from a pocket of his breeches. “Rayse, you and I need to have a rematch.”

  Rayse scoffed. “You don’t stand a chance.”

  “I very well do. I know you cheated last time. I had seven reds! Seven. How you managed to get eight simply boggles my mind.”

  “Easy. I’m the better player. I’m not going to waste my time proving what we already know.”

  Diovan’s expression lit with the promise of a challenge. “Until you beat me ten times in a row, I, Diovan, the Master of Oweeja, will never back down.”

  “Didn’t they call you the Dragon with the Magnificent Cock many years back?”

  “You heard?”

  Rayse smirked. “Word travels fast.”

  Diovan scowled. “Names change. I’m now the Master of Oweeja, and I’m not going to let my title down.”

  Rayse crossed his arms and stood straighter. “I don’t think you deserve either of those titles.”

  “And how should you know?”

  “Because they both belong to me.”

  “I’ll show you—” Diovan paled. “Wait, never mind, I won’t. Oh for fuck’s sakes, let’s just play.”

  They led each other to a desk at the side, and sat, both burning with the expectation of a good fight.

  Aryana and Constance shared an understanding look. “Men,” they said in unison.

  They spent the remainder of the day playing cards and catching up with life. They had an intermission in the middle to settle clan duties, but Aryana and Diovan seemed to prefer play, and they quickly went back to simply having fun.

  Rayse seemed better at letting loose these days, and he wasn’t as uptight as before. He didn’t have to shoulder all the burdens by himself. He had Constance, and she supposed he’d learned how to trust others more.

  Rayse did eventually beat Diovan at ten games in a row, but Diovan still refused to forfeit his self-proclaimed title.

  Without the fear of death hovering over their heads, life was uneventful, but also immensely peaceful. Constance would take that over their horrid past any day.

  Constance could no longer shift into a dragon. That power seemed to have disappeared with the rest of the mishram dull souls. The dragons in Gaia were quite upset at losing their servants. They had simply vanished after Constance took their souls through Nanili.

  Life was good. And with Rayse, things were never monotonous in the bedroom.

  When the sun had dipped below the horizon and it was time for them to part, Favian asked, “She’s really not coming back?”

  Constance shot him an apologetic look. “Sorry, child. Maybe next time. You can come with your parents next week. They’ll be visiting again for the move. She’ll be here. “

  Favian walked out with a dejected hunch, and his parents followed behind him.

  Once they were out of sight, Rayse wrapped his arms around Constance and kissed the nape of her neck. She sensed his wood pressing against her back. “They’re winning,” he said.

  “Winning?”

  “Aryana’s belly is pregnant with another child. They have two children and another coming their way. Three against one. That means we’re losing.”

  “It’s not a competition.”

  “Oh, little fire. Everything is a competition.” He tugged the hem of her dress and bit at the skin next to her collarbone.

  “Rayse,” she said. “Not here. Someone might walk in on us.”

  “Nobody’s going to walk in,” he said.

  As if to prove her father wrong, Reiana tumbled in like a bunny fueled by an energy spell. “What are the both of you doing?” she asked.

  Rayse pushed Constance away as if she were an enemy’s blade.

  “Nothing, sweetie,” Constance said, tugging her collar up.

  The little spitfire placed her hands on her hips. “Where’s Favian?”

  “Gone. I thought you didn’t want to talk to him?”

  “No, I do! That’s why I told him to not talk to me.”

  Rayse shared a puzzled look with Constance.

  “I’m not sure how that’s supposed to work,” Constance said.

  Reiana waved a hand. “You won’t understand. This is adult stuff. Where’d they go?”

  “They’re on their way back home, to the Grimfire mountains.”

  Reiana let out a string of curses. Was Constance hearing foul Dragon Tongue from her daughter’s mouth? “Where’d you learn those words from, young—”

  “No time,” the little spitfire said. “I have to catch them. See you later!” Reiana summoned her wings—the same black as her father’s—and lifted herself off the ground. She zipped out the door before Constance could say anything else.

  Constance peered at Rayse, a brow raised. “Are you certain you want another child?”

  “Definitely,” he said, grinning.

  He leaned in and kissed her, and everything was perfect.

  Afterword

  Thank you for reading the entire series of Soul of the Dragon! This marks the end of Constance and Rayse’s journey, but there might be more to come in the worlds of Gaia and Ayesrial in the future. Writing their story was a wild ride, and I hope that you felt as excited, happy, and sad, as I was when I wrote this.

  Currently, I’m planning another book, which will most likely be a reverse harem involving dragons and hunters. It is still in the early stages, but to find out more, please look to my Facebook page and mailing list below!

  www.facebook.com/ClaraHartleyBooks

  For latest news, and for a free copy of the a novella set in the same world, Golden Embrace, sign up to the mailing list here.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Afterword