Korven's Fire: Dragon Prince of Wye

by Nancey Cummings

  “A token given by Princess Searra, you said.” Adelle held up the medallion. She eyed the barrier. This was folly, humiliation waiting to happen.

  But she valued her life with Korven, their happiness, and their family more than a moment’s humiliation. She wanted him. Needed him. Chose him. His heart belonged to her and it was time to claim it.

  With a deep breath, she took a step forward and passed through the barrier.

  Korven was on her in an instant. His arms and wings wrapped around her, kisses delivered with a heated flurry. She returned the enthusiasm. This was her male and she didn’t care who knew it.

  Finally breaking for air, he pressed her forehead to hers. “I choose, Adelle Scott, to be my mate.”

  The walls of the cell dissolved and Queen Lasar charged in, fury etched on her elegant person. “If you do this, you will be disowned. Exiled.”

  Korven never took his eyes from Adelle’s face. “May I build us a nest? For the female I love and our nestling?”

  “Your family—” She couldn’t even finish her half-hearted protest. She didn’t care what his family thought.

  He growled, making her smile grow wider. “How many times do I have to tell you, female—”

  She laughed, pure joy ringing out. “Yes. Build me that nest.”

  “Good.” He scooped her up into his arms. “Because I’m not wasting any more time here.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Adelle

  No guards barred their progress to the ship. Adelle wasn’t sure what to expect. A chase. A frantic escape as the disowned prince raced to freedom.

  Nothing of the sort awaited them on the Firestar. The Queen’s exile was already in effect. The palace guards ignored them. They were non-entities now. The best thing to do was leave Wye as quickly as possible before the Queen decided exile was not enough and ordered them seized.

  Widget sat at the helm, her rainbow hair in an elaborate up do and wearing one of the gowns Adelle had rejected. The color suited her.

  Korven carried his bride across the threshold and refused to put her down. Adelle found little reason to protest.

  “How soon are we to depart, captain?”

  “We can be airborne in one minute. Ready to break the atmosphere in five.” Providence and the rest of the crew readied the ship. Even Lord Ragnar managed to make it back, lounging in the navigator’s chair.

  “Make it so.”

  Korven carried her to his cabin. Their cabin. As promised, a bed large enough for two had been installed. The adjacent cabin, Adelle’s former bunk, was converted into a nursery and a door added. She spied a control panel and suspected the wall could retract but fiddling with high tech toys could wait.

  At this moment her husband was carrying her toward their enormous bed and there was no place she’d rather be.

  He laid her on the bed carefully, like she was precious. He loomed over her, his eyes eating up her figure. “My wife,” he said and for once she didn’t protest.

  “Yes, my husband.” The words felt right on her lips. Her husband.

  He stroked the curve of her stomach. “Our nestling.”

  She covered his hand with her own. “What are we going to do? Where are we going to go?”

  “I don’t care,” he said. He shifted on to the bed, straddling her thighs. He leaned down, a hand on either side of her face. “We have a ship and a crew. We’ll run cargo. Or rent out the yacht for parties. The one thing we have is experience catering to the whims of rich playboys. Perhaps we can use Ragnar’s talents for earning credit instead of spending. All I know is the Firestar is our home.”

  “Our nest.”

  “A fine nest. Not the one I planned to give you.”

  “It is very fine, indeed. But what about your family? And don’t get all growly on me. I’m serious. I liked your mother and I know you’re sacrificing your relationship with them for me.”

  His lips captured her. Slowly and deep, he poured in all the unsaid words, the great swell of everything in his heart. “I sacrifice nothing. My grandmother will calm down once the nestling arrives.”

  “Especially if it’s a girl.”

  “Consider that leverage. Actually, that’s not a bad name.”

  “Leverage?”

  “Don’t you think? I’ve always admired the Talmar virtue naming scheme. Leverage. Sounds strong, like a warrior. Or a queen.”

  “You know what, Your Highness, no. I’m using my mommy powers and I’m going to veto that name right now.”

  “Mommy powers?” Another kiss. “Tell me more.”

  Another kiss and Adelle became too distracted to explain. Korven found the fastening at the side of the garment and slid it down.

  “Wait,” Adelle said, grabbing his hand. “I need to tell you I love you.”

  He cocked an eyebrow.

  “Well, shit, I guess I just did. I love you, Korven. I just realized I never actually told you. I mean, I told your mother but maybe I should have mentioned it to you, too.”

  The dress vanished. Undergarments vanished. She lay exposed to her husband, that hungry and wonderful look etched on his face.

  “I love you, Adelle Scott of Earth,” he said. “I will always burn for you.”

  Epilogue

  Adelle

  Korven promised the Wye spaceport wasn’t much and he certainly delivered. The aging relic was in space and technically a port, even as it strained to service three ships at the same time. The junk heap should have been decommissioned a generation ago and sold for scrap, but it was the only port Wye had. If the planet ever hoped to join the Interstellar Union, it had to build a new port. Korven was right on that part.

  The spaceport did have one feature that made it unique. It was neutral ground. Queen Lasar only forbade her grandson from Wye proper, not any Wyer holdings. And the port was an easy journey for Princess Searra and Prince Consort Venn when the grandparents needed to hold their grandchild.

  As they walked through the port to the meeting, Adelle’s mind spun with ideas on how to incorporate the existing structure into a new facility. Starting from scratch with an entirely new spaceport would be easier but, as she discovered in the last year, Wyers have long memories. History and tradition surrounded them. It would appease their sensibilities to build the new around the old.

  Adelle shifted the infant Kolle in her arms, the nestlings face rooting for her breast. “Hungry thing,” she cooed, adjusting herself to feed the baby, “just like your daddy.”

  The pregnancy lasted nine months. Wyer nestlings developed fast in the first year but gestation in the womb was the same as a wholly human baby. Despite Derix’s claim that he was perfectly qualified to provide her medical care during the pregnancy, the Firestar frequented Galax One and docked there the last month she carried. Adelle was adamant about having a human doctor and refused to compromise.

  In the last year, the Firestar specialized in exclusive luxury cruises, exactly the kind of thing that the ship did with “Prince” Ragnar but now their willing guests paid a fortune for the exclusive privilege of touring the stars with the faux prince. Under booking the rooms, because eight was the ideal number for a dinner party, kept demand high and prices higher. Which was fine by Adelle. Korven didn’t have much of a grasp on credit and what was a fair price to charge their guests, or a fair budget for expenses. And why would he? He only just started to earn his own credit. Soon he’d learn how it felt to part with the hard earned fruit of his labor.

  Olver handled the books, as he had for the past two years. Underneath all that muscle was a mind for numbers that transformed the Firestar from a credit-sink into a credit generating machine.

  “Do you think you’re still exiled?” Adelle asked, shifting the drowsy child. Korven took Kolle from her, tucking the nestling to his chest. Kolle sighed and gurgled.

  “Yes, until my grandmother’s pride is recovered. She’s not used to being defied.”

  Speaking of grandmother… Princess Searra and Prince Consort Venn
waited in the port’s central court. Guards flanked the area. The port offered no meeting room, no chance for a private encounter. The best they could find was neutral ground in the center of the port. No privacy but the area was cleared of civilians. It was just their little family, the royal couple, and a dozen guards.

  Princess Searra, elegant as ever, waited, seated on a bench with her hands folded in her lap. Her eyes lit up when she spotted her son holding the nestling. The tall male next to her bore a striking resemblance to Korven, down to the untamed hair: his father, Prince Consort Venn.

  Searra’s wings, a dark green, flexed, the only sign of excitement. She stood, posture stiff. “Son.”

  “Mother.” Korven’s posture reflected Searra’s. Adelle had grown better at reading his moods and deciphering his body language. The slight tremor in the base of his wings meant he was nervous and full of emotion. He gave short bow to his father, equally stiff and reserved.

  They wanted to be reunited so badly but protocol kept them apart. This was ridiculous.

  Adelle took Kolle from Korven. She unwrapped the blanket, exposing the child’s sleeping face and held out her arms, presenting the nestling.

  Searra rushed forward and scooped the nestling up in her arms. Her heart melted, cooing and stroking the soft cheek. Scales were faint and slowly growing in. Kolle had a cap of dark, fuzzy hair. The nestling woke, blinking sleepy eyes and popped open it’s little pink mouth.

  “It’s perfect,” Searra said, eyes riveted on the child.

  “I had some questions I wanted to ask,” Adelle said, standing next to grandmother and child. “Korven isn’t helpful when it comes to nestling development.”

  “I’m helpful,” he protested.

  “Feeding and changing, yes, but when it comes to what’s normal for a Wyer infant? Not so much and there’s not a lot of information on the network systems to download.”

  Searra had eyes only for the nestling. “Perhaps if he had siblings, he would have more knowledge, but it was not meant to be. What questions do you have, daughter?”

  “The scales? Right now they’re really faint and soft and have no color.”

  “Those develop with age. What have you decided to call the nestling?”

  “Kolle.”

  Venn repeated the name, his large fingers stroking the child’s cheek. “It is good a name. Strong yet flexible.”

  “Not knowing the gender, we had a hell of time trying to find a name,” Adelle confessed. Korven favored names that were overtly males. She favored softer, more feminine names.

  “It is not unusual for a nestling to gain a name or two once the sex is known. Do you have a strong feeling as to what it will be?” Searra asked.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “A mother knows. I knew this one,” she gestured to Korven, “was male the moment he opened his mouth and wailed. Such good, strong lungs.”

  Kolle was a quiet baby, content to feed and sleep and smile happily at the adults lavishing attention on it. Adelle often found herself thinking of her baby as a girl. Something pricked her intuition and whispered girl. The rebellious part of her wanted a boy, a male child free of the burden of court life and the responsibilities as a potential heir. She wanted her child to have as ordinary as life as possible and if it turned out to be a girl, that dreamed seemed farther away.

  Searra returned to the bench, flanked by Adelle and Korven. “You worry, daughter.”

  “How are you so perceptive when you’re not even looking at me?”

  “Your breathing changed. Tell me what worries you.”

  “What will happen if Kolle is a girl?” Lasar and Searra would swoop in and take her baby away, train her up to be a princess and one day a queen. The gulf between mother and daughter would grow too wide for even a mother’s love to cross. She didn’t think it was possible to love one person so much, her heart felt like it would burst, but she worried that even that amount of fierce, primal love wouldn’t be enough. “I feel like I’m losing Kolle already.”

  “You will not lose your nestling,” Searra said, fixing her peaceful green eyes on Adelle’s. “You will be by Kolle’s side every day until the nestling is old enough to fly away. Then, if the Celestial Mother favors you, they will return with a nestling of their own.”

  Korven, strangely silent during the exchange, stroked his mother’s hair. She smiled up at him.

  “I can’t give you your title back,” she said.

  “I don’t want it back.”

  “Without your title, Kolle is no higher rank than any other member of the nobility. Even if it presents as female, Kolle is not the obvious heir. And I would hate causing such worry and heartbreak in my daughter.”

  She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t. Her stupid hormones hadn’t leveled out yet, that’s why her eyes were weepy. “Thank you.”

  “I can end your exile,” Searra said. “The Queen will welcome you but she refuses to restore title and allowance. Many eyes witnessed your defiance. She must be firm and make an example.”

  “Or whispers would start about her fitness to lead,” he said. “I understand. I still don’t want the title or the credits. I’m happier without.”

  “This pleases me. You chose well.”

  “She chose me.” Korven reached across and gave her hand a squeeze. “The Celestial Mother favored me.”

  Not going to cry. Not going to cry.

  “I can also offer you a commission.”

  Adelle’s ears perked.

  “It is obvious that Wye is in need of a modern spaceport, one with a forward looking design that can connect our people with the rest of the galaxy. One that can handle the demands of trade.”

  “And military?”

  “Wye must protect herself, of course.”

  “Budget?” Adelle asked. Her mind spun, calculating the architect and engineers needed to design, source in the raw materials, hiring the skilled labor…

  “Work with Olver and draw up a realistic estimate, then double it. Send me the figures when you have them,” Venn said. “Wye will pay what is necessary. We have isolated ourselves too long and our people suffer.”

  “You mean we’re vulnerable without a strong military,” Korven said.

  “There are many benefits to a modern spaceport, not just militarily,” Searra said, eyes never leaving the nestling.

  Korven barked out a laugh. “Diplomatic as always, mother.”

  “Will you build this for me?”

  His gaze drifted from Adelle to Kolle and back. “I will build this for my mate and nestling.”

  They had a happy life on the Firestar. And a decision this big affected not just them but the crew. Still, a new spaceport was exactly the project Korven dreamed about. He whispered his plans to her while in bed, limbs entangled, of how he envisioned building a home for her their nestling, a home big enough to bring the galaxy right to their door.

  Adelle kissed the soft, fuzzy head of their child, her eyes holding his. “Let’s build our home together.”

  “Together,” he agreed.

  “Always.”

  Thank you for reading!

  We hope you had fun with Korven and Adelle. The story was a blast for us to write. I hope that came across on the page.

  Ragnar’s story is next. We’ve got some fun situations planned for him involving ransoming a fake prince.

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  About Nancey

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  I am an unapologetic nerd. Time travel, space opera, superheroes, tabletop games, fountain pens and video games where you beat up robots, I love it all. I write the type of fun, fast and flirty books I want to read, featuring plucky heroines, wickedly charming heroes, and plenty of steamy, fun sex. Hopefully you want to read them to.

  I live in an old house with my husband and two cats that have complaints with management. I try to wear pants as little as possible.

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  Juno Wells grew up on Florida's Space Coast, watching the shuttles take off from Cape Canaveral. When she hit college, her childhood fantasies about space travel turned highly romantic. Now her mind reels with space adventures of fantastic alien lords in distant galaxies, and the earth women they love.

  Wells' stories explore the complex, sensual relationships between inhabitants of different star systems. There are always happy endings just as there is always a new world to explore.

  Have a comment? Make first contact with Juno at authorjunowells@gmail.com.

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  Korven’s Fire: Dragon Prince of Wye

  Copyright Nancey Cummings