by Ashley Frost
“You could say good-bye to your parents?” Constance cringed. Her parents hadn’t shown up when Lord Heaton called her name. They must be worried sick. She should have written a letter. She didn’t believe she could be chosen.
“Of course. The dragons aren’t monsters.”
Plenty of stories would disagree, she thought. She mused at Marzia’s change in demeanor. The girl was afraid of being eaten less than twenty-four hours before. “Did you happen to see Eduard and Karsi?”
Marzia’s shoulders drooped. Her friend’s eyes darted to Fraser, as if looking for an escape. “I don’t know.”
Intertwining her fingers together nervously, Constance pursed her lips, then said, “It’s okay. I can handle it.”
“They… they were crying. Both Eduard and Karsi. They didn’t know about you volunteering and they begged the city council to let you stay. But decisions are final once they’re made. Constance, why didn’t you tell them? They looked so miserable—”
She raised a hand, cutting Marzia off. She couldn’t handle the truth after all. “They’ll get over me. They needed the money.”
Her friend flashed her a look of pity. “If that is what you want to believe.”
Constance was staring at a stone pillar, distracted by her thoughts, when Marzia said, “Well, I suppose we should move along. Fraser was about to give me a tour around Dragon Keep. I’m here to invite you to join us, and, well, check if you’re better. Are you feeling better?”
Smiling halfheartedly, she responded, “Better.”
“Great. Fraser told me of a huge library at the castle. I like books and I’m certain you do too.”
***
Constance, Nanili, Marzia, and Fraser strolled along Dragon Keep. It wasn’t so much a keep, but a conglomeration of villages. Wooden thatched houses sparsely lined the sloped streets. Rayse’s house was the only one made from stone in sight. The slopes of the mountains were steep and immense. The dragons had built their buildings in a strange pattern. Pockets of buildings stood far apart from each other, separated by mountain valleys. They were only erected on plains which were leveled enough to have structures built on them. Cliffs made up a huge part of the landscape. The intimidating slopes threatened to make her fall, making her uneasy.
Rickety bridges connected the leveled sections. Dragons probably weren’t afraid of heights, but Constance wouldn’t want to risk her life trying to cross one of those things. To a dragon, the mountains probably meant open skies and wind. To her, Dragon Keep was a prison. She wouldn’t be able to scale the cliffs no matter how hard she tried.
Several dragons soared over them. They were faint silhouettes. She blinked at the sight. She thought she was living in a fantasy. As they walked on, the village grew livelier. Much to her amusement, she saw little dragonlings sparring on a sandpit. When they became too violent, their mothers had to separate them.
“Were we the only girls chosen?” Constance asked out of curiosity. She remembered there being three dragons the night before.
“I’m afraid so,” Marzia said.
“Why didn’t the last dragon pick a girl? Plenty of girls stood there for his choosing.”
Marzia placed a thumb on her chin. “I don’t know, actually.”
“It’s not up to us to decide,” Fraser said. It was the second-time Constance heard the blue dragon speak. She guessed him as the blue dragon because of his blue-toned hair color. “The mating process is something us dragons have to leave to fate. We are creatures who depend a lot on our souls. And it’s our souls that decide who we shall spend the rest of our lives with. The elders describe the process as being instinctive and natural. Choosing a mate is not a conscious decision. Most dragons feel the need to lay with their partner as soon as their eyes meet.” He paused. “The partners are normally drawn to each other. It’s strange that you ran away.”
No, I was drawn to Rayse, she thought. Just too greatly.
Many of the residents in the village were men. She eyed them warily. Were they all dragons? She had never seen so many scaled beasts in such proximity. A sense of culture shock gnawed at her. Everything still floated by her like a surreal dream.
Or nightmare.
Were some of them growling at her? She couldn’t ignore their stares of disapproval. Did the voice in her head warn her of dangers not because of Rayse, but because of his enemies?
“You feel tense,” Fraser said. “I can sense it.”
“You can sense emotions?” she asked, wondering how much power the dragon held. A human ought to be like a speck of dust to them—something they could easily crush with their claws.
He nodded. “To a certain extent, yes. We’re part animal, part man. Our senses let us detect the nuances you make when you experience a certain emotion. It’s not something clear cut, however. You appear more fidgety and stiff than people are usually, which was why I asked.”
She tightened her jaw. “Why are some of the people here looking at me… like they hate me?”
Fraser glanced around, then scratched the back of his neck. “Rayse isn’t liked by everyone.”
“He’s not? But he’s your clan leader.”
“He is, but only because the dragons respect his strength. Being respected isn’t the same as being liked. Some of his decisions are unpopular. Many dragons want to nullify the treaty we have with the humans. They see it as weakness, as him bowing down to the whims of a weaker race.”
“I don’t see what’s wrong. The treaty is sensible and saves lives.”
He chuckled. “Dragons aren’t interested in compassion and altruism. Many prefer to see destruction. We are characterized by our flames after all.”
The statements made her question why mankind revered these creatures so much even more. If not for Rayse, they’d be pillaging and raping.
Was Rayse above such atrocities? Was Fraser?
As she observed Fraser, she couldn’t imagine him as such a monster. He seemed too charming, too kind. Wrinkles crinkled at the sides of his eyes when he smiled. He almost reminded her of an older brother.
The kinder someone appears, the more dangerous he is, a remnant of her younger self reminded her. The man who killed Crescent Rinehart had showered the woman with love and affection. Constance shouldn’t trust easily.
“And do you feel that way?” she asked.
“About?”
“Humans and Rayse.”
“Fraser would never think such things,” Marzia interrupted, after being silent for most of the conversation. “Right?”
A gentle smile brushed the side of his lip. “No. I trust Rayse. And why should we slaughter humans when our mates are amongst the ‘weaker’ race? We might end up killing our future wives.”
“And the destruction?” Constance asked.
He hesitated. “I like to breathe my fire every so often.”
After twenty minutes, they had walked a considerable distance uphill. Constance wasn’t one to idle and have her muscles soften, but the trek exhausted her anyway. The path was steep and rocky, and. her feet throbbed. Marzia didn’t seem too comfortable either.
They had been trekking toward a large castle. Shadowed figures with bat-like wings meandered in the skies. She tried to count the silhouettes, then gave up. There were too many dragons, and they were too fast for her to keep track of them. She anticipated dragon fear, but felt nothing. Perhaps she had adjusted.
“What is this place?” she asked. And why didn’t Rayse stay here? It made sense for the ruler of their kind to live in the castle, after all.
“Dragon Keep,” Fraser said. “Our home isn’t named after the villages, non-surprisingly. It’s named after this structure. It is said that thousands of years ago, the mountains surrounding Dragon Keep hadn’t risen yet. Travelers could see the structure from afar, and thus named this region after it. The Everstones weren’t the first to occupy this place, however. It was a popular castle for dragons before us.”
She had to crane her neck to take in the full enor
mity of the structure. “This was built thousands of years ago?”
“It is made of dragon stone. It doesn’t wear down easily.”
But parts of the structure had crumbled. Time ruled over everything, even dragons.
“Why are there so many dragons?” she asked.
“This is the place where sorting out the trades between the kingdoms happen. Rayse gave it up for this purpose.”
A gray dragon swooped in from the sky, landing abruptly. The force of it nearly knocked Marzia and her off their feet. Fraser had to steady them so they wouldn’t fall. Constance turned around to look at Nanili. The mishram stayed perfectly still. She assumed a frail-looking creature like her would topple, but Nanili held her ground better than Constance thought she would.
Her gaze set on the gray dragon. Goods were tied onto its legs and back. It didn’t look comfortable, even for a creature with iron skin.
“That dragon has just returned from Falron,” Fraser explain. “That’s why its carrying ores. Dragons with grain from Yvrdeen will come here and rest too. Metals and food. Yvrdeen and Falron cannot thrive without the other’s goods, and the two continents cannot trade without us. The mountains are too treacherous to scale and too wide to go around.” Everyone, humans and winged beasts, knew the history. It was the same thing the announcer explained. “The flight is far and tedious, even for a dragon, so we must rest here before pressing on. Sometimes, we receive more than enough goods for trading. Those goods are stored in the castle for a later date.”
A dragon… working. She’d heard about it but still couldn’t believe what she saw.
Fraser sighed. “And this is why Rayse is disliked by many. Dragons aren’t exactly known for being subservient or hardworking. They prefer to steal gold and laze.”
“Will they want to kill me?” Constance murmured. “Supposedly, I am his mate.”
Fraser’s sharp ears caught her voicing her doubts. “No, definitely not. They wouldn’t dare hurt you. Rayse has many supporters too, and he is strong. The dragons fear him. You weren’t paying enough attention, young one. Some of the villagers were smiling and waving at you. You’re not very trusting, I assume?”
She swallowed. “No.”
“Dragons protect our own kind, and now you are one of us. You should learn to trust, now that you have a dragon by your side.”
Rayse came across as a brute who always got his way. Considering he could easily crush her, she found it difficult to trust him.
“The library?” Marzia said expectantly. Her friend was practically brimming with eagerness.
Constance tried cheering herself up with the thought of books. She hardly found them in the village. A library sounded exciting.
CHAPTER THREE
Interestingly enough, the Black Menace is sometimes known as the Messiah. Humankind in the regions of Yvrdeen and Falron were only able to progress in the last century because of Rayse’s interference. Without the help of dragon trade, much of Yvrdeen had little to craft without metals. The lack of ores made it hard to craft proper tools, even for farming. Falron was in an equally dire state without the dragons. Without fertile farmland, most of the humans had to rely on gathering and hunting to survive. Rayse is the first known member of his kind to facilitate the growth of two cooperating lands.
Constance’s fingers trailed along the dusty spines of the books. Marzia and Fraser had quickly split with her. The romance section of the library had drawn her friend away. Fraser, understandably, followed Marzia. Reading was a solitary activity anyway. She was thankful they had left her alone.
She surprised herself by ending up in the history section instead of the medical one. As they climbed the stairs up to the library, she couldn’t help but think about all the variants dragon medicine might have with the humans’. But after entering the vast room, she thought about Marzia’s old book, which Eduard had given her. She had only finished a fraction of it before being taken away. Still, its contents piqued her interest. The book covered the history of dragons, and more importantly, told her more about Rayse, or at least how others viewed him. Information about her mate made her curious. Granted, she believed half of the things in Marzia’s book weren’t true, but any clues about the clan might help.
If she was going to be forced to bed him, why not learn more about him?
But that’s not really why, is it? Her conscience crept up to her. An unsettling tingling lingered on her skin. And he didn’t have to do much forcing last night.
On a narrow row of shelves, books holding more information on dragons than most humans would ever see in their life stood upright. Many of the books were dusty and falling apart. Then she found it: Rayse, The Black Menace, Accounts of Dragon Keep and Its Feared Ruler. She flipped through its dusty pages. Its condition was still better than Marzia’s original book. She could read the title on the front cover at least.
“Nanili, is this book about Rayse accurate?” she asked.
Behind her, the servant stood as still as a statue as Constance skimmed through the pages. Many of its tales seemed contradictory.
“I have not read its contents,” Nanili replied.
“It says here that he’s more than four hundred years old. Is he really? He doesn’t look a day over thirty.”
“A dragon’s lifespan is that of a thousand years. Rayse is considered young.”
“And did he save villages from bandits while laying waste to settlements and armies?”
Nanili did not shake her head or nod. Constance realized she never did. The mishram remained unmoving as she responded, “Dragons act on their own whims. I cannot keep track of all that happens in four centuries. Perhaps he did, perhaps he did not.”
That hardly told her much at all. She decided she’d had enough of this book. She’d save the rest of the confusing stories for a later time.
Or she could ask Rayse himself.
She pursed her lips in consideration. She didn’t want the black dragon to know about her interest in him. It could give him the wrong ideas. Closing the book, she walked away from the history section toward the medical section of the library. That was where she should have gone in the first place. It was the more interesting topic.
She quickly found the herbs and concoction section. There were many things related to medicine, from hypotheses to surgery. Brewing herbs and remedies was her favorite subject. It was the first thing Eduard introduced her to, and what she specialized in.
She picked up a random book on the topic and did a quick scan of the pages.
“Dragons don’t get sick much, do they?” she said, more to herself. Most of the cures were for battle wounds.
“No,” Nanili said. “They are immune to most diseases, although the healers do know about human diseases because dragon mates do fall ill occasionally.”
Constance nodded, starting to get used to Nanili’s monotonous way of speaking. The main curious thing about these remedies was the use of soul magic. They taught of what the common people called “witchcraft.” The book went more in-depth into soul magic than she’d ever believed was possible. Crescent Rinehart had passed down to Constance what little she knew about the craft, but what her mother knew was only a fraction of what could be done with it.
Her mood lifted after reading the contents of the book. She almost smiled. This felt like the biggest perk she’d receive from becoming a dragon wife.
Her eyes remained fixated on its pages as she made her way to an empty desk. She and Marzia were not alone in the library. There were other visitors and she tried to avoid them.
She sat down and read.
It soon turned into nightfall and she had barely reached a quarter of the book. She had asked Nanili to take a seat many times. She was unsettled by how the rigid, pale woman stood behind her the entire time. Each time she offered a seat, Nanili responded with a curt, “There is no need.” Did the mishram’s legs never tire?
She couldn’t force the woman to sit if she didn’t want to, so she went back to readin
g. The sun set hours ago and she used a dim candlelight to keep the pages illuminated. Next to the book was a pen and a stack of paper she had asked Nanili to fetch her.
She took notes as she read, which was one of the reasons why she read so slowly. The other reason was because of the complexities of soul magic. Crescent Rinehart had barely taught her the basics of the craft, judging from these books. There were so many jargons and terms she had never come across, and it took a lot to wrap her mind around them.
“You’re not home,” a deep voice said.
Whenever she studied, it was like she was in her own world. That voice pulled her from that world. Startled, she spun around. “Rayse. You’re here.”
“Why did you not bring her home, Nanili? It’s midnight.”
“You did not order me to,” Nanili replied. The lackluster tone nearly sounded indignant.
Rayse didn’t rebut the mishram. Instead, he turned his attention to Constance. “I didn’t give you permission to stay out so late.”
She withdrew at his tone. “I don’t answer to you. You can’t give me curfews.” She waited. Would he hit her if she spoke like that?
He narrowed his eyes. “You belong to me.”
“You have to learn that I do not want to be property of any man,” she tried, sounding less meek, although her uncertainty showed in her voice. He might have wanted her to submit, but deep down she couldn’t. She had enough years of doing whatever she was told as a child.
“No, I do not own you like cattle, but you are my mate. You belong to me as much as I belong to you, and as such, we have to listen to each other’s wishes.”
“Perhaps you could stay with me, then. It works the other way around, doesn’t it?”
Rayse smirked. Amusement hinted in his eyes. “I didn’t think you’d be this forward.”
“That’s not what I meant to say.” She flustered. Why was he this handsome yet terrifying? “It’s just… these books.”
He scooped her into his arms, knocking the chair over. She gasped, “Wait!”