The Dragon's War: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (The Goddess's Harem Book 3)

by Lila Jean

  35

  Draven

  As was the custom in the rare occasions when a new king was named by means of force, Draven stood alone in his father’s office, now his, with his back to the door in a show of authority. As much as he wanted to just grab the army and go, dragon law was very specific, very ancient, and very much a necessity when it came to succession. If he wanted the crown, he had to do everything just so over the next few hours, or he would lose his right.

  Goddamn, I hate politics, Draven thought, the fire in his chest raging with impatience.

  Several doors along the back wall, a few of them hidden, led to various rooms in the king’s suite that would also become his, and it was almost too much for him to absorb all at once. He waited in silence as the minutes ticked by, comforted by the fact that he had a headpiece in his ear and Zane’s voice on the other end, ready and still on the alert should something go wrong. They were only two doors down, in Draven’s old office, just as on edge as he was.

  He took in the room, a bit baffled to think of it as his, still too overwhelmed by the most intense battle of his life to truly pause and reflect on what had just happened.

  He was the king.

  “Fucking unreal,” he said under his breath, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes as he sighed deeply.

  Behind him, the doors swung open, and he turned to find his father standing in the hall. His arm was strung up in a sling, and though he had deep scratches on his face and one across his eyebrow, he would heal with only a few scars to show for their ordeal.

  A servant in the hallway closed the doors behind Draven’s father, leaving the two men alone in the king’s suite. The old man looked tired, but as the doors shut, it was as if he dropped an act and allowed himself to breathe. All at once, there was a sense of relief around him, hovering like an aura, and his shoulders visibly relaxed.

  “Come here, son,” Edward said, gesturing for Draven to join him. “I managed to walk on my own through the hallways, but it was damned painful.”

  Silently, still not entirely sure what to make of this, Draven walked to his father and offered the limping man a shoulder to support him, leading him toward the nearest couch. With a stiff groan, the deposed king sank into the cushion and let out a long, pained sigh.

  “You’re bloody vicious,” he said with a pointed look to Draven. “I’m very impressed. I don’t know what magic she’s infused you with, but it’s unbeatable.”

  “Thank you,” Draven said with a nod, trying not to show the way his entire body flooded with gratitude and exhilaration at the rare compliment from a grumpy old dragon. In the dragonlands, brutality and force were the highest respects one could give another, and to receive it from a man like his father was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

  “I’ve never lost before,” Edward continued, closing his eyes as he reclined on the couch. “I don’t count Epara, by the way. That was a draw.”

  “Keep telling yourself that,” Draven said with a chuckle.

  “Funny.” A wry smile spread across the king’s face, truly a rarity, and Draven wondered if he had broken a bit of his father’s will when he’d won the match. He cleared his throat uncomfortably at the thought, resolute as he was that he had done what he had to do. “You always did have a great sense of humor,” the deposed king continued. “I guess you had to make up for my failures.”

  “How many kinds of drugs did they give you?” Draven couldn’t suppress a grin as he looked at his father, the idea of a drugged old king making more sense than his father suddenly opening up in heart and soul. “You’re high, aren’t you?”

  “Not a bit, unfortunately.” Edward adjusted in his seat a bit and grimaced with pain. “Just humbled. You’re ready, Draven. I think you’ve been ready for quite a while.”

  “Ready for what?” Draven lifted a curious eyebrow.

  “My crown.” His father tapped his hair, even though the crown was on display in the throne room since the dragon kings rarely actually wore the gaudy thing. “If you can beat the king of dragons, then you are truly ready to lead, ready to rule, and of completely sound mind and body.” The old man chuckled. “I wasn’t so sure about that last one before today.”

  “Thanks.” Draven rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the laughter. “You were pretty clear about that, actually. Wasn’t much of a secret.”

  The deposed king sighed and looked out the windows on the far wall. For a moment, neither of them spoke. His father seemed to be wrestling with the words he wanted to say, as though they were intensely difficult. He closed his eyes, chest heaving with pain as he healed, but it comforted Draven to know that the king would be back to fighting ready in a matter of hours thanks to their enhanced shifter healing.

  After a while, the old man opened his mouth, hesitating for quite a bit before he spoke. “I’m sorry, Draven.”

  “I don’t think you’ve ever said those words to me before, Father,” Draven admitted, not entirely sure how he felt about them, and hating the blurry feelings that flooded him more and more as the minutes passed.

  “I’ve missed you,” the old dragon admitted. “Truly, I have. To think of losing not just my heir, but my son, the one soldier I knew would always fight for me, always have Mersarth’s best interests at the forefront of his mind …” He sighed deeply and sat up, wincing with the effort but pushing through the pain. “I did wrong by you, Draven, and my arrogance clouded my judgment. I almost …” His shoulders slouched, and he looked up at Draven with intensely wounded expression. “I almost lost you to my own damned pride.”

  “For what it’s worth,” Draven said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the desk not far away. “I forgive you.”

  “Good.”

  That seemed to placate the old dragon, and for the moment, it also seemed as though the heart-to-heart would finally end. Deep down, though, Draven had to admit he was grateful for the talk, for the forgiveness, and to have his father back in his life. Though he couldn’t bring himself to dip much deeper into feelings today, he had to admit, he had missed his father, too.

  “What will you do now, Father?”

  “Get your mate back, son.” The king shrugged. “Obviously.”

  “You heard what happened to her?” Draven stood upright, tensed for a battle despite the soreness and deep-set ache in his bones from the gut-wrenching battle with his father.

  “I did, yes.” The old dragon nodded and readjusted his arm in its sling. “That’s when I knew you would be coming for us.”

  “So, you were ready for me.” Draven rubbed his head, the simple fact somewhat comforting him that he had, in fact, done the right thing. “And you’ll help me get her back?”

  “Yes, of course,” his father said with a satisfied smirk. “After all, you’re my king.”

  Draven chuckled and shook his head at the surreal statement. “I guess I am, but I don’t think I’ll ever order you around.” He hesitated, grinning. “Well, maybe at parties, just for fun.”

  “Ass,” his father said, laughing. “But I raised you, so I guess I’m to blame for that.”

  “Totally.”

  “I think I’ll like retirement,” the deposed king said wistfully, a little grin on his face. “An old dragon should be left alone with his treasure. I think I’ll drag your mother to Monaco. She’ll like spending my money there.”

  “Sounds about right.” Draven ran a hand through his hair, just grateful to have his father back, even if only for a moment.

  “I’ll always be there when you need me, son.” Edward sighed. “Especially since I wasn’t there when you needed me during this whole goddess mess.” He stood, teetering a little as he set weight on his wounded leg, but he lifted a hand to stop Draven as he reached out to help the old man. “For now, though, your mate needs us, and I think it’s time we go bash that werewolf bastard’s head in.”

  “Now that’s music to my ears, Father.” Draven grinned and gestured to the door. “After you.”

  36


  Anthony

  In a chamber deep in the Mersarth castle, Anthony prepared for war. He and his brotherhood gathered around the war room’s circular table with Amy, the stolen blueprints of the Wolfcrest Stronghold stretched out before them, courtesy of Zane’s deft hacking ability. It truly was a fortress, one Anthony knew fairly well from the mandatory drills he and the army had to run each year with his paranoid father, and now he was suspecting that his father largely regretted giving Anthony so much access to it over the years.

  He ran his finger over the exterior wall on the first page of blueprints, which was a side view of how the fortress nestled into the mountain behind it. Only a fraction of it was visible from the exterior, with small windows scattered along the cliff face, only wide enough to push guns through. The rest was a network of tunnels and rooms deep into the mountainside, with a few heavily guarded rear entrances for hasty retreats should the need arise.

  “This is where I was,” Amy said, tapping the center of the map toward the base of the mountain. “I managed to get the blindfold off for a bit before they noticed, and I watched them take me through these halls.” She dragged her finger along a network of tunnels. “Maybe they’re holding Tina in the same place.”

  “I doubt it.” Killian shook his head. “If they know you’re alive, they’ll suspect we would visit that area first to look for her.”

  “How long were you in there?” Zane asked Amy, leaning against the table. “How much information were you able to overhear?”

  “A month, and not much.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Granted, my room wasn’t too awful, but all the king wanted to talk about was me hosting Damara. Yeah, sure, I had my own bathroom, a king-sized bed, and a decent little setup.” She shrugged, not appearing altogether charmed by the experience. “But I was a prisoner, and he was trying to brainwash me into ‘serving our country’ or some shit. He wanted me to turn Tina in.”

  “How did he catch you?” Anthony asked, bristling at the very idea.

  “An old contact betrayed me.” She shook her head in disappointment, biting her lip to stem back whatever emotions were cropping up for her as she spoke. “Someone I thought I could trust.”

  “I’ll have a, uh, talk with that person when this is over,” Anthony promised, watching her intently to make his darker intentions clear.

  She glanced up and gave him a grateful smile, and he simply nodded in return. She was his friend, a little sister, really, and he would make sure that anyone who wronged her got what they deserved.

  “Where do you think she could be, Anthony?” Draven asked, leaning toward him intently, nearly crackling with intense energy, and Anthony figured Draven was just as eager as he was to go get their mate.

  “It depends on how pissed he is,” Anthony admitted, pointing to a cluster of rooms at the top of the mountain. “Here’s the prison, designed to keep political prisoners and important prisoners of war, but they’re entirely unfurnished and often kept pitch black.” He gritted his teeth. “She’s been fighting him and causing him a world of trouble, so I suspect he’ll want to make sure she’s as uncomfortable as possible in an effort to break her.”

  “Shows what he knows.” Draven snorted in annoyance. “That’ll just piss her off more.”

  “Don’t worry,” Zane said with a shake of his wild hair. “Before we leave tonight, I’ll find a way to hack the security system and locate her.”

  “Just don’t let my father’s security detail know you’re in their system, Zane.” Anthony watched the tiger shifter intently, the warning clear. “If they have the slightest whiff that we’re coming, hundreds more shifters and demigods will die.” He sighed deeply, staring again at the blueprints. “We absolutely must have the element of surprise.”

  “Anthony’s right.” Flynn leaned his hands on the table, his knuckles cracking from the sheer weight of his muscle. “We don’t have any time to lose, guys.” Flynn tapped his finger on the table to drive his point home. “We need to suit up, gear up, and get the hell out there.”

  “Amy, I need you to run tech support,” Zane said, gesturing for her to join him. “We’ll need guidance through the Stronghold, but I need to be down there with the others for this one. Are you familiar with—”

  “Whatever you’re going to say, the answer is probably no.” Amy let out a little laugh. “But I’ve been on the run so long and picked up a little bit here and there, so I can probably figure it out.” She shrugged and gestured for him to lead the way into the hall. “Besides, I’m more useful here than in the trenches. Teach me, Sensei.”

  “Let’s give you a crash course in nerdiness, then,” Zane said with a dry laugh, jogging into the hallway with Amy in tow. “We’ll have a local command unit,” he said, his voice fading as they trailed down the hallway. “That way there won’t be much lag …”

  “Okay gentlemen,” Anthony said, turning to the three remaining princes in the room. “Gather your troops and give them their orders. Dragons, eagles,” he looked between Draven and Killian. “Your teams will go high, obviously, and draw attention and firepower to the sky. And Flynn,” he said, looking to his friend as he spoke, “demigods and cats will go in low, running a siege on the rear tunnels for a possible infiltration with some additional dragon air support. Tell them to be careful out there since they’ll be sitting ducks without the air support.”

  “Done.” Flynn nodded, crossing his bulky arms as he stared down at the blueprints.

  “While they’re attacking the fortress, the five of us will meet my contact here.” Anthony pointed to a small bit of the mountainside that had no doors, tunnels, or anything remotely resembling an entrance.

  “Are we going hiking?” Draven asked in a sarcastic tone, one eyebrow raised quizzically. “I don’t think I have the right shoes, buddy.”

  “There’s a secret door in this area, one I used once ages ago, barely wide enough for one person.” Anthony tapped the area again. “My contact in Wolfcrest is going to disable any guards and get us in while Amy keeps tabs on security and monitors Tina’s location in case they try to move her.”

  In a matter of hours, the four kingdoms’ armies were mobilized and shipped out for Wolfcrest, each moving with precision and determination. Anthony suspected his father would receive spy chatter about their movement, but Zane and his team of nerds had promised they could work miracles to jam some, if not all, of the Wolfcrest Stronghold’s scanning and monitoring equipment. Perhaps then, they could still have a bit of a leg up on his father, but even that seemed unlikely. He knew full well that this would end with a lot of spilled blood, and he would simply have to accept that blood was on his hands.

  As Anthony settled into his seat on one of the many planes departing for the Stronghold, he stared out the window, lost in thought. The rest of the princes were quiet as well, and Anthony was rather impressed that Draven was able to dig into another battle so soon after the fearsome fight with his father.

  The deposed king was already mostly healed and determined to lead the dragons to save his daughter-in-law, and deep down, Anthony wished he could have the same reunion with his own father that Draven had had with his. In reality, Anthony would actually kill his father today. Anthony knew it in his heart, knew there would be no forgiveness and no change in loyalty because his father was not a man of honor or justice. He had cheated in their duel in Epara, and he would cheat again here today. No, after everything he had done to Tina, to Damara, and to the brotherhood, Anthony would never forgive his father.

  During the achingly long flight, Anthony forced himself to sleep and rest for the battle ahead, but it wasn’t until the next day that they finally landed and prepared the final assault.

  When he finally found himself hugging the mountainside with his brotherhood in tow, he almost couldn’t believe the final confrontation with his father was really happening. This had been coming for so long, been the inevitable outcome for what felt like ages, and he hated to think that his final encounter with his father woul
d end with blood and jaws chomping on a jugular vein.

  Blood and death, the way of the wolf. He shook his head, needing to focus, and knocked on a rock marked with the Wolfcrest coat of arms. For a moment, nothing happened, and he wondered if perhaps his contact had been delayed, or worse, killed. He held his breath, tense, hating the fact that out here he was a sitting duck. With one hand, he tapped on the earpiece in his ear, making sure it was still there so that Amy could warn them to run if she saw anyone coming.

  A moment later, the fake rocks comprising the door slid open, and Emmett smiled widely at Anthony from inside, gesturing them to enter quickly. Anthony let out a sigh of relief and thanked the diplomat, jogging in with Flynn, Draven, Killian, and Zane in tow.

  “I’m glad you made it, Anthony,” Emmett said as he led them through the narrow hallway in single file. “Your father has truly lost his mind.”

  “What’s happening?” Anthony asked, leaning forward to better hear the diplomat. “What has he done?”

  “I found out they’re holding your mate in the detention cells up top.” Emmett gestured toward the ceiling, but Anthony’s heart sank as he realized the diplomat was talking about the political prisoner cells. “Those are damned hard to get to.”

  “And she hasn’t broken out, so she’s either drugged or wearing that necklace.” Flynn shook his head in disgust.

  “It gets worse,” Emmett added, slowing as he neared the end of the hall. “That Cora woman from the news is here.”

  “Cora Stratford?” Zane asked, eyebrows shooting nearly to his hairline.

  “That one.” Emmett nodded, looking deadly serious. “King William won’t tell her where Tina is, and they’ve been at each other’s throats the last twenty-four hours. I’ve been sneaking around, trying to get what information I could for you.” The wolf shifter licked his lips, looking nervously at the door. “I saw some crazy contraption that seems to have been brought here by that woman, and things don’t look good.” He sighed, a deeply exasperated expression on his face. “I think she’s close to finding your mate, Prince Anthony, and I think your father has been expecting you.”