by Noah Harris
He was beautiful, which wasn’t too surprising. He was related to Lyphnia and the Great Mother, after all. And all dragons possessed an unearthly beauty. More importantly, he was the dragon shifter who had the brash courage to near attack a dragon king and coerce him out of the sky to ask a favor.
Rajiah Bronze. A name to remember for sure.
Arulean recovered from his surprise quickly. “I did not feel you fly in,” he found himself saying.
Lyphnia answered for him, waving a hand in dismissal. “He walked into the valley. Can you imagine? Said he traveled with a pack of weretigers.” She ruffled his hair in a gesture that might have been affectionate and perhaps a little amused. “And with mother’s ashes in tow. She would have your hide if she knew.”
“Then it’s a good thing she’s gone and has no say in the matter,” Rajiah said calmly, eyes never leaving Arulean’s.
She scoffed, good natured, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking a hip to the side. “Remind me to never let you carry my ashes.”
He doubted Lyphnia would need that assistance anytime soon. She was far too stubborn to die.
He took a step forward, taking the young dragon’s hand in his own and having the pleasure of seeing the amusement fade from his lips. He bowed over his hand, toying with the idea of pressing his lips to it before tossing it away. “It is a pleasure to formally meet you, Rajiah,” he said, ever graceful and elegant. He glanced up at the young man, feeling one corner of his lips twitch into a small, smug smirk as a light flush darkened the omega’s cheeks.
Lyphnia raised an eyebrow, good humor gone as she observed them. “You two have met recently?” She asked, voice carefully even, curious.
Arulean straightened, dropping Rajiah’s hand as he turned to look at his mate. He raised one of his own eyebrows. “Recently? Have we met previously?”
Lyphnia put a hand on Rajiah’s shoulder, shifting closer to him in a clear possessive gesture. Her kin, her family. Not his. It didn’t escape Arulean that the young dragon shifted just an inch away. “Rajiah came here shortly after he presented, at our mother’s request. We attempted to find him a mate, but... he was stubborn.”
Both of Arulean’s eyebrows rose at that, and he looked back and forth between them. In truth, they looked very little alike. He knew that Lyphnia took after her mother, but the only similarities between them were their delicate, upturned noses and their eyes, dark with shifting glints of blazing color. The Great Mother was known to have had many mates, and most of her children were only half-siblings. He was willing to bet Rajiah took after his father.
“Is that so?” Arulean asked, allowing his surprise to show. He wracked his brain, rummaging through centuries’ worth of memories, but couldn’t pinpoint Rajiah’s face in any of them. His eyes settled on the omega as he asked as casually as he could, “And have you found a mate since?” He ignored the strange, dark feeling coiling low in his gut.
“No,” Rajiah said, familiar stubbornness lining his face. “I still haven’t.” He said it like a challenge, like he was daring Arulean to question him, to look down on him for being unattached as an omega.
The dark, sickening feeling loosened, and Arulean said nothing more on the matter.
That, however, didn’t stop Lyphnia from saying, “Much to mother’s dismay. She tried for centuries to find Rajiah a mate.”
“No one has appealed to me.”
“That’s not the point.” She said sharply, turning her narrowed gaze on him. Rajiah met it without flinching, his own aura flaring beside hers. Ah, yes, Arulean could see how they were related. “You are an omega—”
“And I won’t settle for an alpha purely for the purpose of procreating.”
The tension was thick enough to be tangible. Arulean noticed several servants step into the hall only to turn heel and walk away. Even the lowest of shifters could feel the pressing auras of two dragons in an argument.
“Perhaps now is not the time to discuss these matters,” Arulean said diplomatically, with an edge of authority that made people listen.
Lyphnia tore her gaze from her brother, lips pursing as she looked him over. “Perhaps you’re right,” she conceded, before looking between them. “So if you do not remember meeting him centuries ago, how do you know each other?”
Arulean nodded at Rajiah, clasping his hands behind his back. “He found me in flight three days ago and asked if I would bring a sick weretiger to a healer.”
“Ah,” Her eyes lit up with understanding, her gaze shifting to her brother. “So you’re the reason there’s a tiger in my infirmary.” Her voice was almost admonishing, as though he was a child who had been caught red-handed, and not an adult who had begged Arulean to save a life.
Rajiah didn’t look at her. Instead his eyes were on Arulean as he gave a small half-bow. “Thank you for helping him. How is he?”
“I’ve been told that he is in good health. His fever broke and he is well on his way to recovery.”
Rajiah smiled then. A small smile, barely there but incredibly genuine. Something in Arulean shifted at the sight of it. “I’m glad to hear that.” He turned to his sister. “Where is the infirmary?”
She frowned, plump red lips pursing as her brows furrowed. “You need to carry mother’s ashes to the burial chamber.”
His hands automatically went to a sash of cloth tied diagonally across his chest, shifting the bag slung across his back that Arulean hadn’t noticed before. No doubt it held the urn of the Great Mother. “She can wait. There’s no rush.”
Lyphnia’s frown deepened. “You have a duty.”
“And I’ll do it. After I make sure Regge is alright and let him know his family is in the valley.”
They locked eyes for a long, tense moment, and Arulean wondered if he’d have to break up another squabble before it started. But Lyphnia looked away, shrugging and waving a hand. “Do as you like. Mother isn’t around anymore to complain.” She turned on her heel and strode away without any formal gesture of goodbye. “I’m going for a flight. You can find me when you’re ready to go to the burial chamber. Ask a servant to take you to the infirmary.”
They watched her go, steps quick and staccato with purpose. She didn’t once look back, nor did she bid either of them farewell. Arulean was far too used to this behavior to feel ruffled by it.
“I can take you there.” Arulean said, breaking the silence.
Rajiah looked at him then, surprise and suspicion clear on his face. “I can find a servant if you’re busy.”
Arulean shook his head, turning on his heel and gesturing for Rajiah to follow. “Nonsense. I know the way.” He wanted to say that he had nothing better to do, but he knew that would be a lie.
They walked the halls in silence, Rajiah at his side but trailing a fraction behind. The infirmary was on the far wing of the castle, and it gave them some time.
“I trust the rest of the pack arrived safely?” Arulean asked idly.
Rajiah eyed him sidelong, but nodded. “Yes, they’ve taken up temporary residence in one of the inns in the valley. They plan on coming tomorrow to pay their respects and pay tribute to you for helping them.”
Arulean shook his head. “They need not give anything.”
“You went out of your way to help them.” Rajiah protested, brows furrowing.
Arulean glanced sideways at him, corners of his lips curling. “Weren’t you the one who told me it was my duty to look after those weaker than us?”
Rajiah opened his mouth to respond, then snapped it shut. He turned to face forward, lips pressed together and cheeks flushed. Arulean felt his smile widen. “They would still like to thank you,” he grumbled. “It would be disrespectful to refuse.”
Arulean nodded. He understood that much. “Fine, but I leave it to you to make sure they don’t give anything of value.” He opened his mouth to protest, but Arulean held up a hand to cut him off. “They may bring a gift of thanks, if that is their wish, but make sure it is nothing of value. They have
so little as it is, and they mean to start a new life here. I have enough.”
Rajiah was silent for a moment before he muttered a soft, “All right.” There was something surprised there, something kind, something warm. Arulean risked a glance and knew he shouldn’t have the moment he saw that tender smile. He looked away.
“Your sister was not happy I brought a weretiger to our castle’s healer.”
“I’m not surprised. But she didn’t force him to leave, and that’s what matters.”
“Of course, she didn’t. I insisted he stay here.” He said, idly shrugging one shoulder. “She may have power here, but I have more. She picks her battles carefully, and this was not one she wanted to fight.”
There was a pause, and then a curious and carefully neutral, “Do the two of you fight often?”
Arulean couldn’t help it. He laughed. It was a soft chuckle, bubbling up and out of his throat without his permission, catching him off guard. It wasn’t a boisterous laugh, but it was more than he had done in years. It was the absurdity of the question that had caught him off guard, sparking his dry amusement. Anyone who had been anywhere near the valley in the past millennia knew that he and Lyphnia fought often. They rarely ever saw eye-to-eye, even before the Purge. There had just been a passion in their youth that had covered that up, kept things mild, and allowed them to look past their differences. With that passion gone, all that was left was a healthy understanding and respect for each other’s boundaries and their silent stalemate.
“That is putting it mildly,” he said when his laughter subsided, lips curled in a smile. Rajiah said nothing, and moments later, he stopped next to an open doorway. “The infirmary is through here.”
He stayed in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest as he silently watched Rajiah reunite with Regge. He observed the instant relief in Rajiah, relaxing his whole body and showing easy smiles, a warm laugh, and kind eyes. Something inside Arulean stirred again. Something he was afraid to name.
Rajiah Bronze. A name to remember indeed.
Chapter Four
At his sister’s insistence, he flew to the burial chamber with his mother’s urn wrapped up tightly and clutched in his claws. It had been a while since they had flown. Hell, it had been centuries since he had seen her. She was the most well-known of his siblings, and arguably the most powerful. Everything about her exuded strength, cunning, and a crafty authority that had snared her one of the more suitable mates among dragon-kind and a title of queen.
Her dragon form was larger than his, but not by much. They were built similar in stature: lithe, slim and lean. Built for speed and aerial maneuvering rather than sheer power in flight. Her scales were a beautiful, deep red, horns slim and sharp. The spines on her back were dark as her eyes, wings gracefully curved. She flew with a grace that was unparalleled, rolling through the wind as if it were made to be her servant.
It was little wonder Arulean fell for her, he thought with a bitterness that surprised him.
He let Lyphnia lead him, though he knew where they were going. She flew lazy circles around him, twisting him in the air and playfully batting at his wings and tail with hers. He nipped at her, and she shoved into him. Once, when he was small, little more than a hatchling, she had flown with him like this. Playful and teasing, light and content, without a care in the world. That was a long time ago. Even now, there was an edge of authority, of power mongering in her actions. Little subtle hints and clues behind her movements, in the way she held herself, that told him that she clearly was setting herself above him. Once upon a time, she had not needed to resort to petty displays of authority to assert her dominance.
They landed at the bottom of the steps outside the cave on light feet, smoke peeling off their skin and dissipating into the chilly mountain air. The wind nipped at their exposed flesh, causing goosebumps to rise. Neither of them were bothered by it, however. They were dragons, and their internal temperature ran hot. With the wrapped urn cradled in his arms, the two of them climbed the steps at an unhurried pace.
The keeper was waiting for them at the top, just outside the mouth of the cave. His hands were clasped in front of him, the hood of his robe pulled up over his head. His expression was blank and neutral, but in a way that spoke of contentment and peace. Unlike Arulean’s near constant neutral state, which spoke of ice storms and a cold heart.
As they reached the top of the steps, the keeper bowed. “My lady,” he said politely to Lyphnia before turning to Rajiah. “My lord.”
Rajiah shook his head, lips curling in distaste but speaking with good humor when he said, “Please, Rajiah is just fine.”
The man’s lips quirked, eyes dancing with a shared amusement. “Rajiah, then. Welcome.” He made a gesture, and two acolytes, dressed in similar robes with far less embroidery, stepped forward, each of them offering a robe to Rajiah and Lyphnia. She held out her arms for the acolyte to dress her, barely looking at the shifter. Rajiah was more accommodating, muttering a soft thanks and offering a smile.
The keeper led them into the cave and through the maze of tunnels, lit by torches and glow stone, to the burial chamber. Rajiah had to stop just inside, mouth falling open in awe. He had never been in here. He’d never had reason to. It was a very sacred place, hidden deep within the mountain. Few dragons were allowed inside. Few wanted to enter at all, and Rajiah could understand why.
The whole cavern, massive and empty and echoing, vibrated with a foreign energy, the remnants of the auras of hundreds of dragons long since passed. He could feel their presence humming around him, shaking him down to his bones, setting his teeth on edge and making his hair stand on end. He felt like he could hear the ghost of whispers, unclear and near silent, speaking to him just outside of his hearing, making him question whether he heard them at all. It felt like the shadows of fingers were caressing his skin, touches light and airy with a strange sense of awe and desperation.
Lyphnia glanced back at him, noting his pause with a raised brow and a quirked lip. “You get used to it.”
He shook himself, body wracked in an involuntary shiver before hurrying to catch up to her side. “I don’t see how...” He muttered, glancing around. The ceiling was too high to see, and the cavern walls were dotted and marred with shadows and hidden alcoves.
She shrugged. “They can’t hurt you. Arulean says they feel lonely. I don’t think they feel anything. It’s just energy.”
Rajiah tried to suppress his unease. Energy or not, it was a solemn place. The keeper led them to the lodestone at the center before stopping and turning to face them. He held out his hands expectantly, and Rajiah unwrapped the stone urn before handing it over. The keeper took it carefully and reverently with a small, half-bow.
Rajiah and Lyphnia stepped back as the acolytes stepped from the shadows, melting away like ghosts. Lyphnia’s face was fixed in a sneer at the sight of them, but she kept her words to herself. They watched in silence as they gathered around the lodestone and began chanting in the language of the ancients. The Mother Tongue, nearly forgotten, still beating in the hearts of dragons, power dripping from every word.
The tattoos adorning their skin began to glow as they chanted, and the lodestone hummed with power. With a flick of his wrist, the keeper tossed a handful of their mother’s ashes into the air, watching them float down to land on the stone. The energy humming in the room seemed to increase, pressing on them from all sides, oddly familiar and, yet, entirely foreign. He found it hard to breathe, and started taking more steps back. He felt like he was intruding, and the strangeness of the cavern was quickly becoming too much.
It wasn’t much longer before he muttered an excuse and slipped outside. He found his way through the maze of tunnels by following the smell of fresh air. Once outside, he closed his eyes, breathing deeply and letting the chilly air burn his lungs and cleanse his senses, and bring with it a calmer clarity.
The burial chamber was a sacred place, but it wasn’t heavily guarded. H
e now understood why. Despite how much power could be wielded in there, he didn’t know any dragon who would be foolish enough to try. He imagined their ancestors, even from the afterlife, would rebel should a lesser dragon attempt to use the lodestone. He was almost surprised Arulean and Lyphnia were able to do it.
Then again, they were both incredible dragons with plenty of power of their own.
“I don’t know how you can stand to be in there,” he said as he felt Lyphnia walk up beside him.
“As I said, you get used to it. It’s easier if you remember they’re only the leftover energies of our kind. The fact remains that they’re dead, and they can’t do anything to harm us. They cannot affect us, but we can use them.”
“Do you ever feel specific auras?” he asked, voice soft. “Specific people buried there?”
“I try not to.” She almost sounded sad.
Rajiah hummed his acknowledgement, and the two of them stood in a comfortable silence, wind playing with the loose edges of their robes and tugging at their hair. The mountain was the highest peak in the area, and the mouth of the cave towered over many of the surrounding mountains. The valley could be seen as a dip and speck in the distance. Close enough to be near, but far enough away that the burial chamber felt remote.
He was a little disappointed that Arulean hadn’t joined them, but he couldn’t say he was surprised, not after feeling the tension between him and Lyphnia. It was such an odd contrast from the last time he had seen them. When he visited centuries ago, before the Purge, when they were still young and very much attached, their auras hadn’t clashed as they did now. They had seemed to reach for each other, intertwining in a supernova that was hard to ignore. It forced dragons to their knees in submission, which was no doubt how they had been given the titles of king and queen. Their eyes had always searched for one another, with a primal hunger and passion that had made Rajiah turn away.