by Sariah Skye
Maxxus snorted, finally turning towards me, his expression feral with despair. “How is that possible? You almost died because I made you heal those dragons.”
I laughed shortly. “Made me? I’ve been anxious to heal those fuckers for weeks! I’dve done it a long time ago, but you all stopped me again and again!”
Maxxus looked away, shaking his head. “Still. I should have known Kreegan would try something like this. He’s always been a bit rogue, but this was…well, I should have known,” he said wryly. He glanced up at me, with a flash of hope on his face. “At least, next time, we’ll know better. I’ll just keep you in a crystal box until you’re both ready.”
My heart sank into my stomach; it roiled so hard I thought I was going to be sick. As it was, I choked down a mass of burning bile that rose into my throat.
“Leo? What is it?” Maxxus questioned.
How am I supposed to do this? How am I supposed to crush him like this? A tear rolled down my cheek, with the stinging promise of more to follow. “Oh Maxx…I’m afraid there won’t be a next time.” I spoke rather quickly, so that I wouldn’t lose my nerve.
He raised a brow. “’Won’t be a next time?’ What do you mean? When the Shadows are gone—we can do all this again, and this time we’ll go off and relax somewhere until she’s ready. No stress this time! No Court dealings, no—”
“We can’t have babies, Maxxus!” I blurted out, my voice barely a squeak.
He flinched, like I’d just punched him in the face. “What…do you mean? With your weird fertility once Evie looks you over, we could probably be pregnant again next month if we wanted to! Right? That’s how it works for humans, isn’t it?”
I shook my head rapidly. “No! Well, yes basically for humans. But this is different.”
Maxxus glared. “Leo, you aren’t making any sense.”
I sighed deeply, trying to find the right words. “Remember, Maxx, the stupid genetic spell that brought Gabriel and I closer together?”
He nodded slowly. “Yes, that was a love spell supposedly that was lifted. Right?”
“Well, yes but…” I wiped my hands over my face, smearing off tears and the beads of sweat that clung to my forehead from nervousness. “The spell was done on our bloodlines. It means that any extra magic—or foreign genetics—are rejected. That includes…” I stopped my words, daring to look at him.
His eyes grew wide. He blinked once, as the storminess took over. The shack around us and the ground trembled violently; I had to brace myself against the wall to keep from falling over, even in a sitting position. “You’re…saying that…because of that fucking spell, you can only have children with the sorcerer?”
I nodded slowly, looking down at my lap with shame. “That’s exactly what it means.”
Maxxus breathed out laboriously. He faced opposite of me, his back heaving and falling with his heavy breaths. “You’re telling me I can never give you a baby?”
I tried to speak, to say no, but I just couldn’t say it. I couldn’t tell the love of my life we could never ever have the family we so desperately wanted. “Maybe not never, but until we figure out a way around this spell…no.”
A deep rumble resounded from him. He crossed the room quietly, heading for a small fireplace that had been built in the wall. I realized now it could double as a forge, as he removed a round, silver object from a shelf nearby. He turned, with it in his hand, his eyes blank and stoic as he shook it. It made a melodic rattling sound, and I realized it was a silver baby rattle. “So…there was no point in me making this, right?”
“I wouldn’t say no—” I began, but Maxxus roared before I could finish my statement, flinging the baby rattle in a fit of rage across the room. It crashed through the glass window, shattering it to little more than sand as it sprayed throughout the room.
I held my hands up to shield myself from the shards instinctively, but the sharp glass was nothing compared to the angry tirade that seethed in Maxxus.
He paused only briefly, before he balled his fists and started slamming them into anything in the room; anything baby related—which was virtually everything. He cried out with a tribal yell as he punched his hands through the rungs of the rocking chair. He clutched the frame, slamming it down on the ground repeatedly, until little was left but slivers of blonde wood.
“Maxxus! Stop!” I cried out, as he continued shoving his fists into everything. The ground vibrated underneath us as he yelled out in hopeless fury, demolishing the cradle, ripping the mobile off the ceiling and flinging it to the ground with force; thrashing at the bed with feral growls.
I tried to stop him, even with my magic but I was blocked out—something I had no idea he could do. Maybe he didn’t even know. I reached out for his forearm but he spun around, hand raised in the air, poised to strike.
I flinched, seeing the black in his eyes. It flashed momentarily before his hand dropped to his side, his blue eyes returning to normal.
“Leo? I—I—” he stammered, the fury melting off his face. He glanced at his hands briefly before his chin dropped downwards. “Gods, I’m so sorry, I almost—”
I slipped my hand underneath his jaw, my fingers scratching against his rough stubble. I pushed his gaze upward and said solemnly, “I’m sorry.”
His lip trembled and he sniffled. He tried to speak, but nothing came out, except for a lone sob as he listlessly dropped his head onto my shoulder and cried openly. “My gods Leorah—I am—I don’t know what to say!”
“Me either, Maxx. Me either.” My heart, heavy with our new realization, pounded slowly against my chest as my breaths became shallow; the sobs escaping me as well.
We wrapped our arms around each other and held on tightly, collapsing in despair and hopelessness to the ground—onto what was left of the bed. Since we had no more words, we just held each other and cried openly, each taking turns patting each other’s hair or rubbing the other’s back.
Gaster had poked his head through the door once, but one glare from me and he quickly departed, leaving us there, together in the shack that years ago had meant hope. It was now the new home of despair, and hopelessness. We stayed there and cried and yelled until there was no more in us; until our throats were raw, our eyes dry and our hearts sunken with broken promises and dreams that would remain forever unfulfilled.
Chapter 32
I bolted awake out of a heavy sleep by a noisy popping sound from nearby. Forcing my eyes open, flinching at the bright sunlight that poured in through the single pane-glass window above us, I realized Maxxus and I were still in the shack in the woods.
“Shit!” I exclaimed, awkwardly stumbling to my feet. The amount of sunlight meant that it was probably well into the afternoon, and two missing monarchs would probably worry a lot of people. I leaned over, gently smacking Maxxus’ tearstained, swollen face until he finally roused. “Wake up! We need to get back ho—err, to the castle!”
Maxxus opened his eyes briefly, saw me standing above him and turned away, burying his face deep into the torn pillow he’d been uncomfortably laying on. “Fuck ‘em. Who cares?”
I growled. “Maxxus. You better fucking care—you’re the one that wanted this royal crap. Wake your ass up and proceed to be royal, fucker!” I not so gently nudged him with my sneakered foot this time in his side. “Don’t make me mind-control you!”
Maxxus groaned again but reluctantly sat upwards, shielding his eyes from the bright sun light.
A knock sounded from the thin, metal door. “Guys? Are you in here?” Finnian’s cautious voice inquired.
I tripped over the various debris of broken furniture before I reached the door, opening it to reveal the Loremaster on the other side.
“Finn. What’s going on?” I questioned.
Finnian’s eyes flipped from blue to black, and back to normal again. “Everyone is panicking because they can’t find you. You’re not answering your phones and Court members are lined up in the throne room for more healing. Besides your grandfather
, no one else but I knows of this place—I came here to retrieve you.” His eyes trailed over the sea of destruction behind me. “I see it was obviously a bad night.”
I snorted. “You could say that.”
“Bad night? Putting it mildly. Our lives are ruined and now we have to be responsible for healing a bunch of ungrateful ingrates—that’s a really bad time,” Maxxus replied bitterly.
Finnian sighed, shoving his hands in the pockets of his neatly-pressed khakis and shuffling his feet. “I cannot tell you how sorry I am it came to this. I’ll figure something out—I promise! Might take me time but, hey, I’m a Loremaster. It’s sort of my thing,” he added with a chuckle, trying to add joviality to a tense moment.
Maxxus’ face remained stoic.
I sighed. Turning to Finnian once again, I asked, “We’ll be a moment still, I think.”
Finnian nodded. “Sure. I’ll just—” he moved towards the door and forced a smile, disappearing out of it.
Maxxus and I finally abandoned the shack for the castle a short time later. Finnian had opened a portal directly from outside of the shack for us to the sitting room outside our chambers; sending Barons Gaster and Donneghan on ahead of us.
Finnian left us alone, saying he had to tend to things in the rebuilding of Castle Danger. Neither Maxxus or I spoke, other than questioning who was going to shower first. We agreed that I would, and I took a short shower, not bothering to enjoy the warmth or the smells of my favorite perfumes and soaps. I just went through the motions.
When I emerged, towel-drying my hair, fully dressed in casual pants and a t-shirt, Maxxus was sitting on the bed with his back facing me, muttering quietly.
“Maxx?” I asked.
He spun around, giving me the smallest of smiles. “Oh, sorry. I was just talking to your grandfather. Trying to figure out what’s going on with the Court.”
“I see. Shower’s free,” I said, tossing the towel in my hands on the floor carelessly.
“’Kay.” Without acknowledging me further, he went into the bathroom.
I was slightly disappointed; usually he offered me a kiss or a hug in the morning, but it wasn’t a typical morning. I shrugged, figuring he was offered a pass and tried not to let it bother me.
Until I sat on the bed, noticing his cell phone was on the desk. But, he’d just been sitting on the bed, talking to Grandfather. I assumed he’d been on his phone but, I guessed not.
“Weird,” I said, with a shrug to myself before I realized he was probably talking to himself instead of talking to my grandfather and didn’t want to feel stupid that he’d been caught.
I glanced at the occupied bathroom, with a wistful sigh. Figuring he just needed some time to himself, I grabbed a lighter set of charcoal gray robes from the wardrobe in a gauzy linen fabric and flung them over my shoulders; fastening the tie at the neck. They weren’t monarch-worthy, but I didn’t care at this point. They were the most comfortable ones I owned, and I needed comfort today. I threw on my jeweled flip-flips—as royal as I was going to get right now—and traipsed through the castle to the kitchen.
The corridors were virtually empty except for the random guard, and a handful of non-Court dragons wearing hoodless white robes and scarves tied around their heads. The second I neared them, they dropped whatever they were doing to blend into the walls and be inconspicuous.
Before I reached the kitchen, I stopped to inquire one. Being in my presence seemed to make him nervous; I noticed the beads of sweat on his upper lip as I paused before one.
“Your Majesty,” he said, hanging his head low in reverence.
My mouth set in a firm line as I looked him over. “Who are you?”
When his gaze snapped upward, my brow furrowed at his familiar face. “I am just part of the castle custodial crew, Majesty. We were brought in to prepare for the party tomorrow. I am sorry, I thought you knew. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
I feigned the urge to roll my eyes, as he looked away once again. “I mean, what is your name? Haven’t I seen you before?”
This time, he looked up curiously. “I don’t believe so, Highness. This is my first time here; I am from Morenden. I was hoping that this job would lead to a place in the Court.” He clutched his mouth shut, looking shameful, as if he said something he shouldn’t have. “Apologies, Queen. I shouldn’t say that.”
I chuckled. “Why not? Nothing wrong with aspirations, right?”
The corners of his mouth upturned slightly. “I hope not.”
I looked him over. “I still swear I’ve seen you before…” He was young, with blonde hair peeking out from under his bandanna and fresh, clean-shaven skin.
“I don’t think so, but I would remember you,” he replied. He bit his lip, like he wanted to say more but hesitated.
“Please—speak freely around me. I don’t like people tip-toeing around me like I’m better than they are. I’m just here until the Shadows are taken care of, then a real monarchy can take over,” I said.
He frowned. “I hope you do reconsider. Anarach needs you.”
I gave him a strange look. “Me?”
He sighed. “I had a brother. My parents didn’t do the normal tests, wanting to be surprised.” He chuckled dryly. “Boy, were they ever. He was a pink dragon, like you. More reddish though—the brief moment I saw him I swear he could have passed for red. Truly. But, my parents were horrified…and he was taken away.” He looked down, his expression visibly upset.
I gasped. “I had no idea there was anyone else. I’m sorry,” was all I said, though it didn’t feel like enough.
“There have been others. I can’t speak for King Athalos and Queen Valessia, but before them—King Vedion and Queen Miravelle—they were quite cruel. They were the ones, of course—”
“—that banished Cyril, of course.” I grimaced. “Horrible,” I said, with a shudder.
He gave a slight nod. “Yes. My mate right now is pregnant. I don’t want to think about what would happen if anyone else was Queen—all those innocent drakes…” his voice trailed off, quivering.
All those innocent drakes. I snapped my fingers suddenly, realizing who he was. “I know where I’ve seen you! In Morenden—at the tavern!”
He raised a brow. “Oh? I had no idea you’d ever been to Morenden. I never saw you there.”
“I—” I began, but realized he wouldn’t have noticed us. We were glamoured—Maxxus, Gabriel, Daniel, Kiarra and I, when we had returned to Anarach to fight Nicodemus. “It was only in passing. I must have seen you come out of there I imagine. There’s not many taverns in Morenden, are there?”
He snorted. “No, that’s the only one. I’m just surprised you’d remember me.”
“Well I remember your companions were kind of obnoxious,” I said.
He laughed. “Yes, they were. My older brother and sister.”
A pair of noisy footsteps interrupted our conversation. An old, crusty-looking male with peppered gray hair and a frown on his face shouted down the hallway. “Cadegan! Are you bothering the queen!”
I glowered, hands on hips, as he turned away, looking ashamed.
“Quite the opposite, actually!” I called back to him, my voice irritated. “It’s I who is bothering him, I fear.”
The crusty dragon glared daggers down the hall—at me, or Cadegan, I couldn’t tell. “Well enough, and get back to work!”
Cadegan snarled quietly. He had a heavy brown leather satchel at his hip, and he pulled a white cloth out of it.
I glared down the corridor at him, as he spun haughtily on his heels, muttering something about “Impudent whelps” and being “Fired.”
“Cadegan—that’s your name, right?” I asked quietly.
He nodded. “Yes.”
“You’re—yellow dragon, right? Air magic?”
He nodded again, eyebrows raised with suspicion. “Yeah...?”
“Your aspirations were right. Welcome to the Court. You can join the meteorological department,” I told him.
Cadegan’s brown eyes grew large, as he dropped the cloth to the ground. “Are you serious?”
“More than serious.” I helped him lift the satchel over his head, and tossed it aside on the ground. “I need good help, and good allies. Enough of this shit. Let’s go.” I motioned for him to follow me.
“I can’t believe this is happening!” Cadegan exclaimed with excitement.
We stopped at the end of the corridor at the crusty dragon. He stood there, with a permanent scowl on his unhappy, weather lined face. “What are you doing?”
I ripped the rag off Cadegan’s head, as he stripped out of the robes and thrust them at him. “Who are you? What is your name, and title?”
He grimaced sourly. “I don’t have a station yet, I am—”
I waved him off. “I just appointed Cadegan here to the meteorology department of the Court. Please show Baron Cadegan here some due reverence.”
“Baron? But, I’ve been—” the crusty dragon’s eyes grew wide in surprise.
“I know, you’ve been bossing these people around for years, hoping to get noticed so you’d get your own Court position. Well, with the way you treat people, I will assure you under my monarchy, you will never attain that position.”
His mouth fell open, looking appalled. “I…”
I urged Cadegan forward, as he beamed widely. “Let’s go get you to Kiarra; she can assign you your new duties.”
“I cannot thank you enough, Your Majesty!” the yellow dragon exclaimed excitedly. “This will mean so much to my mate and me!”
I grinned, his happiness infectious. “I’m glad. Let me know if I can do anything for you, okay?” His enthusiasm was palatable as we sauntered through the corridors, past the gawkers in the foyer entrance and into the kitchen, where Kiarra and several other staff members worked, cooking a delicious smelling meal.
“Kiarra!” I called to her, as she stirred something in a heavy black pot.
She turned around, surprised to see us.
“Leo! I figured you—” she said, but I cut her off.