Firefighter Sea Dragon (Fire & Rescue Shifters Book 4)

by Zoe Chant

  Our Throne! her inner voice sang out, like a whole orchestra playing a single bone-shaking note of triumph. At last, at last, our Throne!

  “Are you going to stand and gape like a codfish all day?” Neridia stumbled as the Knight-Commander’s shoved her roughly forward. “Go on. Sit.”

  Neridia had been so mesmerized by the sight of the Pearl Throne, she’d entirely forgotten what they were here to do. Now all her doubts and fears came rushing back like a tsunami. How could she possibly plant her fat backside on that gleaming treasure?

  It is ours, ours by birth and blood, her inner voice insisted. Claim it!

  “I-I’m not ready,” she stuttered. “I need more time.”

  The Knight-Commander made an impatient sound under his breath. Seizing her wrist, he started dragging her up the dais.

  “No! I’m not ready, not yet!” Neridia twisted futilely, his steel gauntlet biting into her skin.

  “You claim to be the Empress-in-Waiting?” he snarled. “Then prove it. This is the Pearl Throne, the seat of the Empire, the very heart of the sea! If you have a drop of power in your body, then this will call it out.”

  “Please, let’s wait until John’s better,” she begged. “I can’t do this without him. And he’d want to be here.”

  “I cannot allow the Knight-Poet to witness this moment.” Unceremoniously, the Knight-Commander dumped her onto the human-sized seat. “Now. Show me if you are truly a dragon.”

  Instinctively, Neridia cringed back from the cold touch of the gleaming Throne. Surely she would be struck by lightning for daring to defile it with her mere human presence. She expected it to crack in half under her weight, for an earthquake to shake the palace, for Atlantis itself to come crashing down…

  Instead, nothing happened.

  Cautiously, Neridia uncurled. Now that she was sitting on it, she could feel the shallow depression worn into the ancient seat by long-dead Emperors and Empresses. Her hands rested where their hands had rested; her curves fit perfectly into the Throne’s, as though it had been carved for her personally.

  And yet still, nothing happened.

  No great rush of power; no dragon surging up from her soul. Just the hard Throne underneath her, slowly warming with her own body heat.

  She had failed.

  Her head jerked up at a loud, repeated metallic crash. The Knight-Commander was clapping, slowly and ironically.

  “Well done,” he said. “Very well done indeed. You are absolutely, unmistakably, and utterly human. Nothing more.”

  Dismay fought with relief in her heart. “So I’m not the Empress-in-Waiting?”

  “Absolutely not.” To her astonishment, he went down on one knee. “You are the Empress.”

  Neridia stared at him. Despite his posture, he didn’t look at all humbled. Every line of his body shouted triumph.

  “I shall back your claim personally.” The Knight-Commander rose again, looming over her even though she sat on the Throne. “With the Master Shark gone, no one on the Sea Council will dare oppose me. We shall announce the good news to the whole city tomorrow. Though we should delay the coronation and your formal presentation until I have coached you-“

  “Why?” Neridia interrupted.

  She couldn’t see his eyes through the narrow slits in his helmet, but she was certain that he was shooting her a withering glare. “So that you don’t make an utter flounder of yourself in front of the entire city. We must convince them that you are appropriately Imperial, regardless of the fact that you cannot shift. The Crown Jewels will help, of course, but I must teach you how to comport yourself appropriately.”

  “No, I mean, why are you helping me?” Neridia was half-certain this was all some elaborate trick, that he was just toying with her like a cat with a mouse. “I’m human! You can’t possibly want a human Empress.”

  “On the contrary, a human Empress is precisely what I want.” His chest swelled with triumph. “A helpless human Empress, unable to wield the sea’s power. Unable to wield any power.”

  “You want a puppet,” Neridia whispered.

  “Come now. Let us put it more politely. A ceremonial figurehead to appease the sentimental masses who are still enamored by royalty. The one thing I needed to make my rule here absolute. You will sit on the Throne, but I will stand behind it.”

  Neridia sat frozen, mute with shock. She wanted to protest, to say that she would defy him, that he couldn’t force her to do his bidding…but they both knew that he could. He was the most powerful shifter in Atlantis.

  And she was only human.

  His deep chuckle echoed around the vast audience chamber. “Ironic, really. All that time and effort I wasted on ploys to keep you from reaching the Throne, when all along I had nothing to fear.”

  Neridia gasped, his words hitting her like ice water in the face. “It was you! You sent the assassins after me! You’ve been my enemy, all along!”

  “What a terrible accusation.” The Knight-Commander chuckled again, not sounding the slightest bit alarmed. “I would have to challenge you to a duel, should you repeat it in public.”

  “I don’t care!” Neridia pushed herself up from the Throne, anger driving away her previous paralysis. “Did you order the assassination of my father too? How far back does your treachery go?”

  The Knight-Commander’s shoulders bunched under his armor, his air of amusement falling away. “I am no traitor,” he spat. “Everything I have done, I have done for the good of the Empire. Atlantis needs a strong leader. Honor dictates that I must do whatever it takes to ensure that it has one.”

  “You did kill him,” Neridia breathed. Her fists clenched. “You can threaten me all you want. I’m going to tell everyone what you did!”

  He took one swift, angry step toward her, his armored body crowding against hers. She cried out as he seized her chin in one gauntleted hand, forcing her up onto her toes.

  “If you do,” he hissed, right into her face, “then I will challenge you. I will demand a duel, as is our custom, to settle the slight to my honor. Who do you think will be your Champion?”

  “John,” she spat back, as best she could around his crushing grip. “John will believe me. He’ll call you out.”

  This close, she could see his shadowed eyes. She could make out the cruel curve of his mouth underneath his helmet.

  She could see him smile.

  “Yes,” he said softly. “The Knight-Poet would be your Champion. He is young and raw, so lacking in accomplishment that he still considers Firefighter to be a name worthy of pride. I am the Knight-Commander, Voice of the Emperor-in-Absence, First Seer of the Water’s Eye, and no-one has ever come close to defeating me in a duel. How long do you think he would last?”

  He released her, casting her back down onto the Throne as carelessly as if tossing a too-small fish back into the sea. “I admit, he has potential. He is the only knight other than myself to have skill in the magical arts. I sent him on his fool’s quest in order to ensure he would not become a rival in the future. He was supposed to perish quietly and conveniently in some blaze or accident. It never crossed my mind that he would find something, for I did not learn of your existence until you removed that infernal pearl of hiding. No matter. As he is now, he is no match for me. I would cut him to ribbons and feed him to the sharks.”

  Neridia huddled on the Throne, her defiance melting away in the face of his utter confidence.

  I can’t tell John. If he knew, he’d challenge the Knight-Commander, no matter what the odds.

  And the Knight-Commander would kill him.

  “That’s better,” the Knight-Commander said. She didn’t know if he was reading her body language or her mind. “Your life here can be quite comfortable, if you submit to my will. You may live as an Empress, with every jewel and luxury your heart could desire, free from the trouble of decision-making and responsibilities. You may have the Knight-Poet at your side, as long as you do not trouble him with the details of our arrangement.”

&nb
sp; The huge, dragon-sized hall closed around her like a cage. She was acutely aware of the unseen weight of water above her head. The air was stale and thick in her lungs.

  “You may even have children,” the Knight-Commander continued, uncaring of her distress. “In fact, I insist upon it. Together we will found a dynasty—oh, not like that,” he’d caught her gasp of horror, and his own tone twisted. “What a revolting thought. I could never debase myself with a human. But I am certain the Knight-Poet will oblige.”

  John, John! With her entire soul, she wanted to cry out to him, to call him to her side.

  But that would be to pull him into certain death. She clenched her fists, her fingernails digging into her palms. She made herself breathe slowly and deeply, forcing down her panic. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t let her mate sense her fear.

  “Your children will not be of my blood, of course, but they will be mine nonetheless. I will raise them to carry on my work. We will cut all ties with dry-landers, so that our noble people are no longer tainted by their filthy dirt.” The Knight-Commander’s voice softened. “We will make Atlantis great again. Future generations will revere me as the founder of a new Golden Age.”

  He fell silent, gazing into space at some glorious vision that only he could see. Neridia gripped the armrest of the Throne for support. She closed her other hand around her father’s pearl pendant.

  She prayed for his strength. More than she ever had before in her life, she needed it now.

  Her pearl warmed against her skin…and so did the Pearl Throne. Her fingers fit so perfectly into the grooves worn by past Emperors, it felt as if her ancestors were holding her hand.

  A sense of calm spread through her. It was like the comfort she usually took from her pearl, but magnified a hundredfold. The strength of generations of Imperial dragons filled her, lending her their courage.

  She knew that she could do what she had to do.

  “You said I could live like an Empress, if I obeyed you,” she said. She was careful to keep her eyes downcast, fixing her gaze on the Knight-Commander’s glittering boots as if she was too scared to look him in the eye. “I know I can’t bring friends from the surface here, but can John’s sister stay with me? I like her.”

  The Knight-Commander started a little, interrupted from his contemplation of immortal glory. “Why should I care who you pick for your ladies-in-waiting? You may form your retinue as you please. I’ll have her attend you in your chambers. The Knight-Poet, too.”

  Neridia’s heart thumped against her ribs. “I thought you said he needed to rest in order to recover.”

  “Did I? Well, I’m certain he’s better now.” The Knight-Commander gave her a long, assessing stare, his eyes hidden behind his helmet. “I will send him to you. Consider it a test of your obedience and discretion. And remember what will happen to him if you fail, and he uncovers the truth.”

  Neridia nodded silently. Her hand tightened on her father’s pearl.

  I can do this.

  I have to.

  “I can see we’re going to get along very nicely.” The Knight-Commander tossed her a mocking salute. “My Empress.”

  Chapter 28

  “Oh, my mate, my heart.” John went to one knee in the doorway, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from her long enough to bow his head as etiquette demanded. “I am overjoyed to see you properly honored at last.”

  Finally, she was surrounded by the luxury she deserved. The Imperial apartments had obviously been hastily re-opened and prepared for her; only a few pieces of furniture had as yet been recovered from storage and returned to their proper places. But the lapis lazuli and turquoise floor was mirror-bright from frantic polishing, and embroidered drapes of the finest cerulean silk had been hung over the carved coral bed. Fresh light-pearls had been fitted into the wall sconces, casting out the gentle silver radiance of the full moon.

  Amidst all this splendor, Neridia herself shone like a black pearl in an exquisite jewelry box. She’d changed out of her bedraggled human garments into a soft, simple robe, the white silk flowing over her curves like water. Bands of tiny seed-pearls formed intricate designs of curling waves around the neckline and hem.

  Sat at the gilded vanity table, straight-backed, hands folded in her lap, she looked every inch the Empress she was. Beautiful. Composed. Regal.

  Remote, his inner human muttered uneasily.

  His human was right. She was breathtaking, but it was a distant sort of beauty, like the moon behind clouds. No matter how he reached out to her down the mate bond, she slipped through his fingers, untouchable as fog.

  “Something is bothering you,” he said, concerned. “What is it? What has happened?”

  Neridia didn’t look at him. Given that she was contemplating a selection of the Crown Jewels, set out on the vanity table for her pleasure, John could hardly blame her preoccupation. Still, his unease grew.

  He mentally shook himself, chastising himself for his own arrogance. Of course I cannot presume to be so familiar with her anymore. Not now that she has claimed her rightful place at last.

  The Knight-Commander had told him the good news personally. Neridia had been able to enter the Throne room, and the Pearl Throne itself had responded to her touch. True, she still had not yet shifted, but now even the Knight-Commander could not deny that she was indeed the rightful Empress.

  Even now, the Knight-Commander was in conclave with the Sea Council. John had no doubt that his superior would be able to persuade the other sea lords to accept Neridia as the heir to the Throne. Soon, all of Atlantis would echo with songs of rejoicing.

  She is the Pearl Empress. And now…now she truly understands what that means.

  John forced himself to fix his gaze to the floor as her station demanded. “My Empress-“

  “Don’t call me that.”

  John’s head jerked up in surprise at the bitter note in her voice. She’d picked up the crown of the Empress-in-Waiting. She turned the heavy gold circlet round in her hands, as though examining the pearls and sapphires that adorned it. Still, John had a strange certainty that she wasn’t even seeing the wondrous gems.

  Abandoning formality, John rose. A little stiff from his half-healed wounds, he crossed the room to her side. She still didn’t look up at him.

  “My mate.” John crouched again—not in any sort of formal bow, just in order to put their faces level with each other. “Please tell me what is wrong.”

  Neridia let out her breath, carefully putting the crown back down onto the vanity unit. “John, if I told you that someone had…if I told you that someone had upset me, what would you do?”

  “Someone has upset you?” John’s hand instinctively flew to his sword-hilt. “Who? Who has dared to insult you?”

  Neridia’s hand covered his, stopping him from drawing the blade. “It’s just a hypothetical question. If someone insulted me, you’d challenge them to a duel, right?”

  “Of course,” John said, rather confused. “How could you doubt it? Has someone been insulting my honor, by implying otherwise?”

  Neridia’s mouth twisted a little. “No. Quite the reverse. Someone told me that you’d be my champion even if you knew that you couldn’t win. Even if it was absolutely certain that your opponent was a better swordsman than you.”

  “Yes,” he said, taking her hands. “I swear on my honor, I will always fight for you.”

  She met his eyes at last. “What if I asked you not to?”

  “You may command anything of me.” He held her gaze steadily. “Except to ask me to leave you in pain. If someone caused you distress, I would challenge them. No matter who they were, or what the odds. In this one thing, my Empress, you cannot command me.”

  Her shoulders dropped in a long sigh. “That’s what I thought.”

  “I assure you, I will do everything in my power to ensure that an unfortunate situation does not occur.” Her hands were cold. He wrapped his fingers around hers, trying to warm them. “I am your weapon, my mate. I take
that duty seriously. It is my responsibility to ensure that I am fit to meet any threat. Now, will you tell me why you are suddenly so troubled by the thought of duels?”

  Neridia shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Just something that came up today when I was talking to someone. I wanted to make sure I understood your customs correctly.”

  He ran his hands lightly up her bare forearms. “I know how overwhelming it is to be immersed in a strange new place. But remember that you are not alone. I am here, at your side, always.”

  He thought he saw tears start to well in her eyes—but before he could be sure, she’d leaned forward, pressing her mouth to his. There was something desperate about her kiss, as if she wasn’t really certain he was truly there.

  He returned her frantic caress more gently, his mouth steady under hers. He claimed her lips, her tongue, making her slow down. Cupping her face, he turned the kiss more lingering, his lips moving against hers in silent promise.

  I am here, my mate. I will always be here.

  He gathered her close in his arms, so that she would be able to feel his solid strength encircling her. With long, gentle caresses, he soothed the tension in her spine and shoulders. Wordlessly, he showed her that she could lean on him. She could rely on him.

  With a sigh, she relaxed against his chest at last. Her own hand explored the edges of his shoulder pauldrons, where leather straps held the gleaming armor tight against his body.

  “I’ve still never seen you naked,” she murmured against his mouth. “Not properly.”

  He nipped lightly at her lower lip. “Shall I take that as an Imperial command?”

  She smiled, but his attempted playfulness sparked no answering merriment in her eyes. She still looked so solemn, as if they were performing some momentous ritual.

  I suppose it is, for that matter. Her first night in Atlantis.

  John fervently vowed to make it a memorable one.

  With one last kiss, he drew back from her. More slowly than was strictly necessary, he worked free the buckles securing his pauldrons. To his satisfaction, Neridia’s eyes went wide and dark as he shrugged off the heavy plates.