by Donna Grant
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Table of Contents
About the Author
Copyright Page
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Sometimes we’re blessed to have special people enter our lives, and I’ve been privileged to have such a person. Liz Berry isn’t just a beautiful soul, she is one of those people who truly touches someone with her warmth and generosity.
Liz, this one is for you. Not only because you love the Dragon Kings, but because you had a thing for Ulrik from the beginning. Now you have your own Dragon King.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Writing is a singular process, but it takes a special group of people to get a book ready to go out into the wild. A special shout out to everyone at SMP for getting this book ready, including the amazing art department for such a stunning cover that matches the character to perfection. Much thanks and appreciation goes to my exceptional editor, Monique Patterson.
To my amazing agent, Natanya Wheeler, who is on this dragon train with me.
A special thanks to my children, Gillian and Connor, as well as my family for the never-ending support.
Hats off to my incredible readers and those in the DG Groupies FB group for keeping the love of the Dragon Kings alive. Words can’t say how much I adore y’all.
Dear Reader—
You have come on this journey with me through numerous books—some of you even from the very beginning with the Dark Sword series. I’ve received so many emails over the years about Ulrik. And honestly, at the beginning, I wasn’t sure if he could be redeemed. He has taken me on a merry ride of ups and downs, and his book nearly did me in while writing it. I don’t think I’ve ever had such an emotional story where every word was like giving birth. Yet, how could I expect anything less from the King of Silvers?
We writers put our hearts and souls into our stories, and I can’t begin to tell you what an absolute thrill it is when readers become so caught up in a series that they come dressed as a character to a signing or create files of their thoughts on who Rhi’s Dragon King is.
I wouldn’t be here without all of you. This is my “Thank You” to each and every one of you for buying the books, for posting reviews, for sending me emails, and for keeping the love of the Dragon Kings going.
I love hearing you, so don’t hesitate to reach out to me in the links below. Follow the magic, my lovelies!
xoxox,
DG
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PART ONE
Fate will chew you up and spit you out many times, taking you away from those you love and dumping you into places you never wanted to be. It’s up to each of us where we choose to belong. We can either fight everything, or accept what we’re given and make the most of it.
—ULRIK
PROLOGUE
When it all changed …
Revenge was a powerful motivator. It was the only thing that kept Ulrik putting one foot in front of the other as he walked away from Dreagan.
It wasn’t enough for Con to take away his magic. No, the King of Dragon Kings had also banished Ulrik from his home and friends. It was a cruel blow that turned Ulrik’s hate and anger into one fiery need—vengeance.
After all he’d done for the Dragon Kings. Not only had he carved most of the dragons in the mountain caves, but he’d set the foundation stone of the home they would build, as well. Didn’t that mean anything?
So what if he’d killed a few thousand humans? They had turned against all Dragon Kings despite the Kings allowing them to remain on the realm. Never mind that the mortals had betrayed him or slaughtered entire clans of the smaller dragons.
It was all Ulrik could do not to rush back to Dreagan and his mountain, to four of his Silvers that had been captured and lay sleeping. But that wasn’t to be.
Don’t look back.
Without thinking, he tried to shift so he could fly away. He stumbled down a hill when nothing happened.
He fell to his knees, his head lifted skyward. His chest clutched painfully as a bellow rose up within him. The clouds drifted lazily past, unknowing and uncaring that he craved to fly among them.
Not being able to shift was the most malicious, spiteful thing Con could’ve done to him. Constantine, the King of Dragon Kings, who was like a brother. His betrayal cut nearly as deep as Nala’s.
“Nay,” Ulrik stated through clenched teeth.
He wouldn’t think of the human he’d given his love to who had deceived him. She was dead, and he’d made sure her soul was destroyed so she could never be reincarnated.
Ulrik lowered his head and climbed to his feet. He needed to get as far from Dreagan as he could. He’d flown around the entire world, so he knew exactly where he wanted to go. First, though, he had to get off the island.
He walked for days until he came to the coast. All around him, humans celebrated the defeat of the Dragon Kings, stupidly believing that all the dragons had departed the realm. How he wanted to kill them. His hatred grew for the beings without magic that he had once sheltered, cared for, and helped. He wanted them wiped away, ground into dust and forgotten.
Instead, he walked into the sea and began swimming. Even without his powers or the ability to shift, he was still immortal. And he was still a Dragon King. Not even Con could take that away from him.
But his old friend had made a grave mistake. The King of Kings should’ve killed him because Ulrik would go after Con. It was simply a matter of time before Ulrik acquired his magic again. After that, there was nothing that could stop him from challenging Con and taking over as King of Dragon Kings.
Then his fury would turn to the humans once more.
After Ulrik had reached land again, he walked. He lost count of the days as one bled into another, the sun rising and setting and rising again. His thoughts alternated between rage at not being able to shift, and loathing for Con turning against him.
But always, his disgust and revulsion for the humans was there.
He hiked through heat, wind, rain, sandstorms, and snow. He didn’t eat, drink, rest. Or sleep. He shied away from anyplace there were mortals because he knew if he were close to them, he’d kill them all. Yet the humans seemed to be everywhere he turned.
Being banished from Dreagan, besieged by humans, and unable to shift was too much. He had nothing to hold onto, nothing that rooted him. And each day he couldn’t take to the skies, he felt his mind cracking.
Where once he’d had an idyllic life surrounded by friends and family, knowin
g only peace and love, now he was living in Hell. With new demons clawing their way up his body and taking root in his mind—and his very soul.
The last thing he wanted was to be found by the mortals, so he ran to the highest mountain. He climbed to the top where the air was thin and freezing, and no human could survive. There, he found a cave that he staggered into before falling to his knees.
He clutched his head and screamed at the pain, the anguish, and the hatred inside him. The dragon within him clawed and roared to be released. The need consumed him until it was all he could think about.
Ulrik staggered to his feet and ran to the entrance before jumping into the air. He kept trying to shift as he fell thousands of feet before landing in an agonizing pile of shredded skin and broken bones.
Tears he couldn’t hold back flowed as his body lay shattered among the rocks. If he couldn’t shift, he wanted to die. But even that had been taken from him. His body mended itself, and he began the climb back to the cave.
He welcomed the cold and the hunger that pierced his stomach. He traveled so far back in the cave that he couldn’t see the sky that made him ache to fly. There, he tried to slumber, but there was no way for him to take to the dragon sleep that would allow hundreds of thousands of years to pass.
Depression took him. He didn’t move for days, staring at the cave walls as images of the life he had taken for granted blurred with the betrayal and banishment. He had no idea how much time passed before he finally rose and picked up a rock. With each dragon he drew, the more he yearned to shift and fly. The madness he’d felt after leaving Dreagan returned with a vengeance.
Ulrik could feel his mind slipping away piece by piece, and there was nothing he could do about it. He raged against Con, against the humans—against everything.
His hate devoured him.
And he welcomed it with open arms.
Hate was all he had. And in that loathing, he thought of various ways he could kill the humans and Con. Oh, the scenarios he imagined! They were the only things that gave him even a shred of satisfaction.
During his madness, there were fleeting moments of clarity that brought the ache of all he’d lost forward, slamming into him like waves crashing against the cliffs during a winter storm. Fortunately, the saneness never lasted long. So he continued to plot his revenge against Con and the mortals down to the last detail. The plans were elaborate and far-reaching, but in the end, he’d get the retribution he sought.
It felt amazing, rewarding even, to come up with such a scheme.
Then he’d remember that he was a Dragon King locked in a human’s body.
Ulrik didn’t know what prompted him to stop drawing one day and walk to the cave entrance. As he stood at the opening, he looked out over the world below and saw that the human settlements had grown.
It was a reminder of everything he’d lost when the Dragon Kings roamed freely, ruling the realm that was rightfully theirs since the dawn of time.
He returned to his drawing, but the next day, he went to the entrance once more. That continued for days, and then weeks.
Somehow through that, his mind began to clear, and the insanity started to recede. Yet one thing remained—revenge. It drove him, bringing to mind all the scenarios he’d concocted to bring down Con and the mortals.
Time to an immortal meant nothing. Ulrik didn’t notice the rise and fall of the sun or moon. He didn’t know when one day ended and the next began. What he lived with was the knowledge that he was utterly alone and trapped within a body he detested.
Perhaps it was the loneliness that prompted him to walk out of the cave. Whatever the reason, he traveled halfway down the mountain and stopped at a lake. Since he couldn’t remember the last time he’d tasted water, he knelt at the edge and dipped his hand into the crystal blue depths.
The icy cold was the first thing he noticed. He brought a handful to his mouth and swallowed. It rushed down to his stomach like frozen fingers, but the taste was sublime. He drank until he could drink no more. As he leaned over the water, gazing out at the beauty, he realized he was hungry. Insatiably so. He looked down then and saw a face reflected back at him.
For a moment, he didn’t recognize himself. His hair was well past his hips, and his face was covered in a long, thick beard. He held up his hands before him and saw that they were covered in dirt and muck. A glance at his naked body showed the same.
Ulrik rose and looked back up the mountain to where his cave was located. He could return and remain there. Or he could travel farther down and see what he discovered. For all he knew, the Dragon Kings were still sleeping and hiding.
He decided to continue down the mountain, though he kept hidden. When he reached the valley, he followed the river to where he’d seen the distant settlement. Except when he got there, he found a city.
It came as no surprise that the mortals laughed at his nudity, pointing their fingers and calling out crude comments. Not one offered him food, clothing, or shelter. He’d expected nothing different though.
He quickly hid and waited until nightfall before he stole clothes and shoes as well as a dagger. Then he returned to the lake. The moment Ulrik immersed himself to wash, it seemed as if the frigid water jolted the last vestiges of madness from him. Almost as if it jarred him from a long sleep.
He took his time bathing and swimming before he finally emerged. That evening, he hunted and ate his first meal in … well, a long time. He spent the night staring at the stars, recalling how it had felt to have the wind rush over his scales as he looked down upon the land, the trees nothing more than small dots.
And he promised himself that, however long it might take, he would fly once more.
The next morning, he used the dagger to shave and cut his hair. So when he looked at his reflection in the lake again, he could see traces of the man he’d once been.
But the trusting fool was long gone. He’d seen the horror that was humanity, and the disgust that was his fellow Dragon Kings. He recognized where he stood among them—alone.
And that was perfectly fine with him. He needed no one.
For to trust was to be betrayed.
Yet, he’d get close to the humans. He had a use for them that would lead him right to his goal of becoming the King of Dragon Kings. And his plan began that day.
Ulrik returned to the city. This time, the mortals either ignored him or gave friendly waves. For days, Ulrik wandered, observing people and mentally taking notes. It didn’t take long to determine who the main players were. He wasted no time introducing himself and making the first move of many in his ultimate plan.
He also discovered that he’d been in his cave for over a thousand years.
For the next month, Ulrik continued to build on those key relationships. With just the right word, he was able to get the mortals to do whatever he wanted.
Soon, with everything in place, he set out for Scotland. Along the route, he repeated the steps he’d taken at the first city, finding the influential and important people. By the time he stepped off the boat onto Scottish soil hundreds of years later, he had a network of humans willing to do whatever he wanted.
Though he longed to return to Dreagan, he remained on the east coast of Scotland and traveled southward. It did his heart good to be back on the soil of his homeland.
He began finding discarded items that intrigued him. At one settlement, he traded a vase for a bag of coin. In turn, he used that money to buy items to build lodging on a piece of land. He kept that parcel, changing it through the centuries until it became The Silver Dragon.
What had started as a place for him to store the items he found and a spot to sleep, eventually became his antique shop. It didn’t take long for him to learn that he had an eye for finding things that others would pay handsomely for.
In a matter of months, he’d built up considerable wealth. Since he cared nothing for coin, he used it to strengthen and solidify the network he was creating.
He began loaning money to pow
erful individuals who had fallen on hard times, indebting them to him. Ulrik was shrewd and cunning—even devious—but when the future was at stake, he’d stop at nothing.
Two years later, he found himself near Dreagan. He’d been unable to stay away. Seeing the beauty of the land and feeling the magic that pulsed like a heartbeat made him recall that horrible day he’d lost everything.
He’d been stripped bare and left to rot. Somehow, through it all, he’d found his way back to sanity. The dragons he’d once considered his family, his brothers, no longer meant anything to him.
It wasn’t just Con who’d turned against him. All the Kings had.
And every last one of them would pay.
CHAPTER ONE
February
Dreagan
Revenge could make you do things you swore you’d never do. At least that’s what Ulrik told himself as he stood in the massive cavern that held his sleeping Silvers and faced off against Con.
“I’d say this is a surprise, but I’d be lying,” the King of Dragon Kings said.
Ulrik looked over the man he’d once considered his brother. Con’s blond waves were tousled. His black eyes were as impassive as his face. He wore an impeccable black suit. The white dress shirt beneath was free of wrinkles. Ulrik noticed the gold that flashed at Con’s wrists. The gold dragon head cufflinks that he was never without.
“Is this where you challenge me?” Con asked.
Ulrik had fully expected to do just that. Taking over as King of Kings had been his goal from the moment Con banished him from Dreagan all those thousands of years before.
“No’ this time.”
Con raised a brow. “If you’re no’ here to challenge me, then why are you here?”
“To warn you.” Though Ulrik had begun to wonder if he was losing his sanity again. Why the hell was he there?
There was a long pause before Con asked, “About?”
“Mikkel.”
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