Winter's Dragons. Melting Ice: A Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (Soulmates of Seasons Book 1)

by Eva Brandt

  The firedrake launched himself into the air first, narrowly managing to avoid a blow from the wyvern’s spiked tail. The beating of his wings created a gust of wind so powerful it could’ve rivaled my fiercest blizzards. The wyvern attempted a similar approach, but before he could join the firedrake, the ryū had wrapped his serpentine form around him. Like his lóng ancestors, the ryū possessed a body that was... well, long, and his build and lack of wings made it possible for him to attack his foes in a manner similar to that of a constrictor snake.

  It certainly did not help that the wyvern did not have frontal limbs that could assist him in freeing himself from the ryū. He did, however, have the ability to breathe out poison, and he promptly proceeded to use it. A burst of green fumes exploded from his snout. It did not kill the ryū, but it did force him to release his captive.

  The firedrake chose this exact moment to launch his own attack. His chest lit up, the air around him blurring as the heat in his body accumulated.

  Just witnessing the scene gave me a better understanding on how the trio had ended up in the Topaz, or at least, with the injuries that had led them to go into hibernation. If the firedrake’s breath interacted with the wyvern’s poisonous fumes, the results would be disastrous.

  Maybe I had been a little rash in providing them with my blessing and making sure they were well-cared for. If I hadn’t done so, they might have been less inclined to initiate another battle, this time on my territory. Well, it did not matter. I was a queen, but that didn’t mean I was too proud to admit my mistakes.

  I would certainly not allow three dragons to blow up my palace for their ridiculous little spat. This was my realm and my home, and no one would get away with such transgressions.

  With a furious snarl, I summoned the full extent of my magic to my aid. The temperature in the foyer dropped to a level that would’ve most likely frozen even some of my own lieutenants.

  The fire blazing in the drake’s chest instantly died, extinguished by my magic. Hoarfrost gathered on his wings and he fell from the air, hitting the floor so hard the white marble cracked. By his side, the wyvern had already gone limp. The ryū had not fared any better. Despite being a creature aligned to water, his resilience to my skills was just as poor as that of his two opponents.

  Once I was satisfied that they were harmless, I withdrew most of my magic, leaving only a very mild, snowy breeze to flow through the foyer. The chill wind cleared the air of all lingering traces of the wyvern’s poison breath while still keeping the trio captive. That would be enough, for now. I didn’t actually want to kill the dragons, just to teach them a lesson. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to implement my previous, simple plan.

  With that in mind, I made my way to the incapacitated serpents. Ice spread underneath my booted feet, blooming in front of me in an almost floral pattern Eranthe would’ve undoubtedly found charming. The frost reached the dragons before I did, and almost at the same time, my guests-turned-prisoners shivered.

  I ignored their reaction, although for the most part, I found it promising. It meant that the trio had most likely not been knocked out by my outburst, and could answer the questions that had been on my mind ever since I’d first found them.

  “That was very rude and foolish, gentlemen,” I told them. “What were you thinking? Did nobody ever tell you it is not a good idea to engage in combat while on someone else’s territory?”

  The ryū let out a low whine at my words. It wasn’t a vocal reply per se, but it did seem to convey an admittance of guilt.

  I pursed my lips at the dragons and crossed my arms over my chest. “I am Queen Cheimon, Lady of Winter, ruler of Tou Cheimóna, The Realm of Eternal Ice. You have trespassed upon my borders and brought further violence into my home at a time when I was attempting to help you. Tell me... What could’ve possessed you to believe this was acceptable? How did you come to be here at all?”

  The three dragons shared a look. It seemed to take effort, as the icy temperature meant they had trouble moving properly. Still, they must’ve managed to silently communicate in some way, because the next thing I knew, all of them melted from their draconic forms into humanoid ones. Some shifted faster than others, with the firedrake encountering far more difficulty than his fellows and the ryū fulfilling his self-appointed task almost instantaneously. And things got even weirder after that.

  “We most humbly apologize,” the firedrake turned person said. His long red hair brushed the floor as he knelt at my feet in total submission.

  “We did not mean to do any damage to your home,” his wyvern companion added, already mimicking the firedrake’s posture. His green eyes met my own, glowing as brightly as his black draconic scales had.

  “We simply did not realize our change in circumstances,” the ryū finished. His magic twisted around him, making his verdant locks sway like tree branches in the wind. “I know it is no excuse, but if there is anything we can do to compensate you for the damage that we have done and the offense we have brought to you, we are at your disposal.”

  I blinked in surprise, having not expected that response. In fact, I had not expected them to shift into their legendary two-legged forms at all. Dragons were very proud of their regular shapes, and as far as I knew, they only shared their secondary ones with close families and friends.

  “I appreciate the offer,” I said slowly, “but it doesn’t answer my most important question. How did you come to be here?”

  “It is... complicated,” the firedrake explained. “We were fighting to obtain one of the most coveted privileges of our homeland. It is tradition for us.”

  “So it was an organized tournament of some kind?” That changed things somewhat. I could hardly blame them for following the traditions of their people, although it was still strange that this competition of theirs had landed them here.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” the wyvern replied. “It is organized every ten years, by the leaders of our clans.”

  Interesting. I’d had no idea that dragons had such practices, or that they even used clans in their social interactions. Perhaps I had misjudged them in thinking they couldn’t set aside their differences for anything.

  Still, if this had been an organized battle and not just a spat as I had originally assumed, it would’ve been supervised by someone. There would’ve been a judge. Someone should’ve intervened before the trio had ended up so far from home, hibernating in my river. “I imagine that the leaders in question were watching over the event. What went wrong?”

  The firedrake and the wyvern shot a brief glance toward the ryū, apparently deferring to him on this one. The ryū took this in stride and answered, “I’m not certain. There may have been some kind of accident caused by our clashing abilities, but I don’t find that explanation too plausible. In my experience, such outbursts of magic simply tend to cause serious amounts of damage to the individuals involved and to their environment. I’ve never heard of such an incident transporting people to a different continent.”

  He kept his voice level and calm, but the flicker of apprehension in his eyes made it clear that he was well aware of the possible consequences of what he was saying. The mild tic in the firedrake’s brow and the tension in the wyvern’s stance suggested the other two felt the same.

  And how could they not? They had made a huge mistake by resuming their fight in my home. They were clearly aware that the firedrake’s breath would’ve caused a massive explosion had it interacted with the wyvern’s poisonous fumes. They must’ve known it even as they were fighting, and had done it anyway, uncaring of the effects their battle would have on their environment.

  Perhaps this should have made me angry, but the fact that they’d changed shapes in front of me spoke volumes of their honest regret. They had been kind and polite during our earlier exchange, so they might have thought I was a dragon-shifter as well, and that I would not receive damage from such a blast.

  Furthermore, they were still recovering from a fairly serious injury and, while Alv
a had deemed them healthy, some confusion could be expected due to their recent hibernation. If they had truly not realized the drastic change in locations, they would’ve been inclined to deem any damage to their surroundings irrelevant and a natural consequence of this tournament of theirs.

  As long as they were telling the truth and had nothing to do with the enchantment that had brought them here, it would be completely unreasonable to blame them for something that was not their fault.

  “I will look into it and figure out what happened,” I decided. “In the meantime, you are welcome to stay here.”

  As I spoke, I allowed the chill around the dragons to completely fade away and recast the blessing I had, in my original anger, removed. Their breaths caught as they felt my magic flow over them again, this time in an entirely different way. “I have placed a small enchantment on you that will allow you to live here without receiving damage from the cold,” I explained. “You are safe now, and you do not need to worry about providing me with compensation.”

  The three dragons were not as thrilled with this development as I expected. “You are most kind, Your Majesty,” the firedrake said, something akin to horror in his voice, “but I couldn’t possibly accept your offer.”

  The wyvern practically stumbled over his words as he rushed to throw in his own plea. “I truly must insist that you allow me to make up for my mistake.”

  “It is not my place to question your decision,” the ryū added, “but it would most dishonorable of me to ignore the damage I have done.”

  I hummed thoughtfully. I supposed I could understand their point of view, and there was the flood to consider. Technically, my lieutenants and their teams were perfectly capable of handling the remaining issues, and what little they couldn’t do, Pandora’s envoys would accomplish. However, I’d never been one to waste useful resources, and dragons were nothing if not useful. If they wanted to help, who was I to refuse?

  “I may be able to arrange something. Certain areas are still recovering from the effects of your arrival. I could find a use for your skills there. I will let you know at a later date.

  “In the meantime, be advised that I will not allow any further conflicts. I will trust your words and your vows for now, but should you prove to be dishonest I will hold you accountable for your behavior, and you will not like the result.”

  My latter words might have been harsh, but they needed to be said. I had a feeling the dragons were being honest, but I couldn’t base my approach regarding a group of strangers solely on that. I had to consider the possibility that they might actually pose a threat and make my position on further acts of violence clear. I had no desire to hurt them, but I would do it if they forced my hand.

  The dragons didn’t get up, although they certainly could have. Instead, they bowed even lower and one by one, proceeded to reiterate their pledge of fealty to me.

  “We understand and we thank you for your generosity, Your Majesty,” the firedrake said, his voice filled with a flame as intense as the blaze he had almost directed at the wyvern.

  “We are humbled by your trust and will fulfill any task you give us with utmost diligence,” the wyvern promised in turn.

  The ryū echoed them both with just as much solemnity, if not more. “We will honor your home and your kindness. Rest assured that we will not fail you.”

  I had a feeling I was missing something, and wanted to tell them that all the bowing and scraping was really unnecessary. I hadn’t asked for anything quite so official.

  However, it was at that point that I finally realized I’d forgotten a very important part of my simple plan. I had introduced myself to them, but I’d forgotten to have them do the same thing. “Excellent,” I said, smiling slightly to hide the fact that I was kicking myself over the massive oversight. “Now, let us start with you giving me your names.”

  * * *

  Kerryn

  “Now, let us start with you giving me your names.”

  The words were like music to my ears. Intellectually, I knew my host didn’t mean them in the way I’d have liked, but that didn’t change the fact that she had uttered them, or my desire to offer her my response as soon as possible. “I am Kerryn Thurlacht, at your service, Your Majesty,” I said.

  The beautiful female in front of me rewarded my promptness with a quick, approving smile. Unfortunately, before I could attempt to capitalize on her positive reaction, the irksome duo that happened to be my companions interfered in our exchange. “I am Emmerich von Adalberd,” my firedrake nemesis offered. “Anything you desire, I will provide.”

  “Raijin no Kurapati,” the obnoxious ryū piped up. “It will be my honor to serve you.”

  I struggled against the urge to pounce on them again and give them a little lesson on how not to interfere in a conversation between a wyvern and his female. It wasn’t as difficult as it should have been. I had promised to be on my best behavior, and attacking the other two dragons because they were a pain in the ass would not sit well with the vision of beauty who had received us in her home. Similarly, she would not be open to accepting any advances from me, not after the huge mistakes we had made. As such, I needed to focus on being respectful. I suspected the others had the same idea, as they did not display any of the emotions I knew they had to be feeling.

  Fortunately, we all had plenty of practice at suppressing our instincts, and Queen Cheimon didn’t notice anything amiss. “It is a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “Do draconic naming practices dictate a certain address under these circumstances?”

  Just the fact that she had thought to ask took me by surprise. Almost every person from other lands deemed our species inferior, and often qualified us as vicious, disorganized, greedy beasts. Their opinion wasn’t entirely false, but not correct either. There was far more to our culture than just viciousness and greed, and Queen Cheimon realized that.

  What an amazing female she truly was. It was a shame that our battle had failed to impress her. If anything, it had apparently had the opposite effect, as we had almost ended up doing damage to her lair. I hoped I hadn’t lost my chance with her completely.

  “Please, feel free to call me whatever you wish,” I said.

  Deep inside, what I actually wanted was to have her call me by my first name. I had no doubt that it would sound beautiful when coming from her full lips. But I couldn’t afford to make that request. It would’ve been inappropriate in the extreme, not just because of the disparity between our ranks, but also due to the massive mistake I had yet to atone for.

  Raijin and Emmerich echoed my sentiments. Queen Cheimon took in our words with a thoughtful frown and then offered, “Very well. The general practice in my court tends to include the use of first names. That is in no small measure because three quarters of my staff do not possess clan names like you do, but unless you have other preferences, I will not differentiate.”

  That was understandable, and up to a point, filled me with relief. We would be in no way special compared to the rest of her entourage, but that didn’t concern me. It meant we would simply have to work to gain her attention, which was precisely the way things were supposed to be.

  I suppressed a grin. Nobody would be getting an unfair advantage here. The three of us would be starting from the same level in the competition for our prospective female’s hand. It was perfect, much like Queen Cheimon herself.

  To give the others credit, they showed no sign at being put out by this. In fact, Raijin was the one to answer first, with Emmerich quickly following in his wake.

  “As you will, Your Majesty.”

  “I understand.”

  It was not ideal that they’d managed to speak out before me because I had been distracted. I’d have to up my game if I wanted to make full use of the chance I’d been granted. “Whatever you think is best, my queen,” I offered.

  “Excellent. Now, please, do get up. While I appreciate your zeal and your desire to help, you aren’t actually here as my servants. I don’t like excessiv
ely subservient behavior even when it comes from my actual staff. All the kneeling is inefficient and hard on the joints.”

  I didn’t know what to make of that latter comment, but nevertheless, I got up, just like I had been bid. So did my rivals. Of course, this meant that both my nudity and theirs were now in full display.

  While we had been kneeling, we had managed to cover ourselves up, but that was no longer possible. A part of me protested the directness of it. I had to earn the right to share such an intimate moment with my female. However, she’d said that she didn’t like the kneeling, and I couldn’t go against that.

  She blinked in obvious surprise at the somewhat inappropriate display. Had she not realized we were naked at all, or had we missed some kind of cue in her words, some underlining command we should’ve read between the lines?

  “I apologize for my state, Your Majesty. Dragon-shifters are always nude when we turn to our human shapes.”

  Queen Cheimon waved off my words. “There’s no need for an apology. Most shifters encounter the same issue. We will have to arrange something for your wardrobe. I’m aware that you prefer using your other forms, but they would not be very conducive to getting along with my staff.”

  “We will happily follow all the rules of your household, Your Majesty,” Emmerich answered.

  While I wasn’t very eager on having my nemesis speak for me, I couldn’t argue with him. Of course I would follow the rules, although not solely because the queen had ordered it. Granted, it was unusual for me—or for any of us, for that matter—to spend too much time in our human forms. Normally, I might have even felt uncomfortable with it. Right then and there, it didn’t matter. My base dragon form would not assist me in my task, and as long as that was the case, it was inappropriate. This second shape had far more potential to convince Queen Cheimon to be my female.

  Truth be told, when I had joined the tournament, I had not expected encountering much success. Wyverns weren’t that popular among females of other draconic types, unlike lóngs, ryūs or even firedrakes. Winning the tournament would have made all the watching females more interested in me, but there had been no guarantees. Still, I had tried, because I had desperately wanted a mate, and the prospect of waiting for another decade until a new competition happened had not appealed.