by Zoey Ellis
“What is my transition?”
“That is one of the things that will be explained.”
I’mya exhaled a soft breath, the weight of her dead calm lifting. Maybe things would not be as bad as she thought.
After a few days, the door opened, but it wasn’t Nyro who entered.
“I’mya?”
“Elora!” I’mya exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
Elora stepped into the room, grinning. “I wanted to see how you are. Can I sit?” When I’mya nodded, she sat down cross-legged on top of the bedding. “We’ve been worried about you.”
I’mya titled her head. “Who?”
“All the kon’ayas and staff.”
She frowned at Elora. “Do you know what happened… what I did?”
Elora nodded. “Dayatha has had a hard time keeping anything from us,” she admitted. “We’ve been hounding her every single day since the massage servant died. She doesn’t always share what’s happening, but she shares what Master allows her to.”
I’mya frowned. So Nyro allowed the lair to know what she’d done—attempting to kill his dragon and him? “Why would he do that?”
Elora shook her head. “What do you mean?”
“Why would he tell the rest of the lair I tried to harm him? Harming him means harming all of you, doesn’t it? I betrayed you and the rest of the women.”
“I suppose you could see it that way,” she pondered. “But that is not how everyone has taken it. There is much rejoicing in the lair, I’mya.”
When I’mya stared at her, astonished, Elora laughed. “It has been an incredibly joyous time. Sex happens in every corner of every room now.”
I’mya laughed with her but was bewildered. “Why is everyone happy?”
“Because Master has a mate,” Elora said. She took her hands. “Do you know what it means that dragorai can mate? It means the continuation of their kind, I’mya. Of course everyone is rejoicing!”
“We don’t know that,” I’mya protested. “We don’t know if I can conceive with him yet.”
“We are all hopeful,” Elora said firmly. “And Dayatha seems to think that it is only a matter of time.”
I’mya chewed her lip as she pondered what Elora said. “But I thought most people were just here for safety, I didn’t realize they truly loved the dragorai and wanted to see them thrive.”
“The dragorai are a significant, much-loved part the history of this land, I’mya,” Elora said. “If anyone here truly hated the dragorai, why would they be here? Safety or not, you can’t hide hatred like that. Dayatha would have gotten rid of them immediately. And anyway, it would be difficult to hide your dislike as a kon’aya. To have to serve the master sexually and yet hate what he is would be difficult.”
“I did it,” I’mya remarked.
Elora scoffed. “No, you didn’t, I’mya.” She rolled her eyes and shot her a knowing look. “You loved it. I could tell as much. You might have been frustrated with him or confused by him, but there was never any hatred for who he was that interfered with your attraction to him.”
I’mya thought for a moment. Maybe that was true. She’d hated aspects of her interactions with him, but she wasn’t sure she’d hated him for being a dragorai. “Did you know that dragons can destroy ember?”
Elora’s brows lifted. “Can they?”
“I saw them do it. Their fire dissolves it.”
“So is that something that they can do for the North?” Elora asked hopefully. “Can they get rid of all the ember so that’s not so dangerous for the people?”
I’mya shook her head. “Nyro doesn’t want anything to do with the war.”
Elora’s shoulders dropped. “I suppose they wouldn’t want to take sides. Until someone wins, the war can’t really be stopped. And I suppose that means investigating the politics of it. I can’t imagine the dragorai being that investigative or diplomatic.”
“True.” I’mya hadn’t thought about it like that. “But what if they’re refusing because they don’t want to involve themselves in the affairs of lesser-mortals?”
Elora nodded, her expression glum. “I would understand that too.”
“You would?” I’mya said, shocked.
“Yes,” Elora said. “It is unfortunate, but I do. We are not their responsibility, I’mya. They did not create us and the Vattoro clan are the only ones left because of the relentless attack by us that has destroyed them as a species. It would be easier for them to just kill us all to stop the war, and they haven’t done that. They have instead, provided some of us with opportunities like this, to work in their lair.” She shrugged. “Even though they are powerful beings, we cannot lay everything at their feet.”
I’mya chewed the inside of her cheek as she thought upon that for a long moment. It was an interesting perspective she hadn’t thought about.
“I have to go,” Elora said. “I’m not supposed to get you too worked up or too tired out.” She rolled her eyes. “Like Master hasn’t been doing that since you arrived.”
I’mya chuckled with her. “Thank you for coming,” she said. “I appreciate it.”
Elora squeezed her hand. “Of course,” she said softly. “And when you feel well enough, visit us. The rest of the lair is waiting for you.”
15
Nyro picked I’mya up. She buried her face into his chest as his arms wrapped around her securely, holding her as he walked out of the room.
Her transition was almost complete, so now was the best time for her to meet his brothers.
I’mya avoided looking at herself at all costs, she even kept one of the bed sheets wrapped around her constantly. That would not do. Nyro would have to get her to face her body, and how it had changed. But right now, he needed her to feel comfortable enough to leave the lair. Before they left, he’d dressed her in a loose tunic and wrapped her in furs to keep her warm.
Tyomar had offered to bring Ryndross to take I’mya to the temple which Nyro accepted. Of course, Sanderyll was not happy about that. He followed them, shrieking and roaring his displeasure—not understanding why I’mya was on another dragon’s back. Nyro agreed with San, but I’mya’s comfort was the most important thing right now. It was already going to be a difficult meeting.
He entered the temple and sat down in his usual chair, placing I’mya on the chair beside him. She looked so small in the seat that he wanted to pick her up and put her on his lap, but he didn’t. He needed to show his brothers he was taking this meeting seriously.
He’d been pleased to see I’mya’s appetite returning, as well as her sharp tongue and her need for domination. He couldn’t help but notice her arousal every time he was in the cave with her, but he’d forced himself to resist. Not only was she not strong enough, but her emotional turmoil was still overly present.
She didn’t realize he could feel her emotions because she couldn’t yet feel his, but he was monitoring her closely. I’mya was a much more complicated being than he’d thought. Her range of emotions was beyond anything he had ever experienced. He was very straightforward, black-and-white, and with a significant amount of confidence that minimized feelings like doubt, worry, or fear. That wasn’t to say he didn’t have a range of emotions, but as an almost immortal being, there were simply some emotions he didn’t experience often. I’mya had so much doubt, confusion, worry, and guilt, that he hadn’t been able to determine what was wrong with her for a long time.
He’d been shocked to realize she thought he’d placed her in prison. But he hadn’t explained to her what was happening, and there was a lot she didn’t know. The last time she’d seen him before he and his brothers attacked the king, he was falling to his death on San’s back.
Once she started eating again, and her weight increased, he told his brothers he would bring her to meet them soon. They were all researching wildly, trying to find as much as they could about I’mya. He had every person she’d communicated with in the lair interviewed, and that had delivered some interesting r
esults that painted a better picture for his brothers. It was encouraging how excited his lair was about the fact that he bonded—it made him hopeful about the future of his race.
I’mya sat, her head turning back and forth as she looked at all the Vattoro wealth showcased the room.
The curved ceiling had been decorated extravagantly; gold panels, jewels and gems littered throughout, and little dangling crystals gently swung in the breeze, and on the side walls were enormous quality paintings demonstrating the extent of Thrakondarian art.
At the sound of footsteps, she tensed, but she didn’t move. All his brothers entered and headed to their chairs, nodding in greeting to them both.
I’mya’s eyes were wide as she took them in. They must have seemed huge to her.
Nyro introduced them all, and she repeated all their names slowly, as if trying to memorize their names and faces.
“We will go straight into the reason why we are here,” said Sethorn, briskly. “I’mya, you are to become part of our clan, yet you took serious actions against us in the name of the king. We know nothing about you. There has been much discussion about your actions and how we should react to them as a clan. But, it is clear that if you are Nyro’s mate, then we must, at least, give you the chance to explain.”
“Hello to you all,” I’mya said quietly. “I am aware that I have caused you harm and concern… I was not expecting any leniency.”
“We’re not particularly being lenient,” Khyros said grimly. Nyro shot him a hard look. “We expect you to answer our questions,” Khyros said, “and we expect you to explain yourself.”
I’mya swallowed and nodded. “All right.”
“Why did you join Nyro’s lair?” Sethorn began leaning forward.
“I joined to kill his dragon,” I’mya said, her voice hoarse.
Nyro tensed.
“Why?”
“His dragon killed my little sister.”
Tyomar glanced at Nyro, and Sethorn glanced at Khyros.
“It is rare for dragorai to kill children,” Zendyor said. “I’m not saying it doesn’t happen. Children get can get caught in conflict. But it is rare for a dragon to seek out and kill an individual target.”
“My sister ran into its blaze,” she said. “But it was targeting me. It was trying to burn me.”
“He wasn’t trying to kill you,” Nyro said.
“I was there,” I’mya said sharply. “I saw he was targeting where I was sitting—I was the one who summoned him.”
Khyros frowned. “From the beginning,” he said slowly. “Explain everything to us.”
It was at least an hour before I’mya had explained what had happened and they had asked all the questions they needed to. Nyro interjected a few times, surprised at some of her responses, but in general all of them seem to understand her motivations and reasons.
“So the king knows that there are omegas in the Twin Realms who can sense and command magic,” Tyomar said. “He didn’t know or care which of us he targeted, he just wanted to target a dragon—any dragon.”
“I never thought about it like that,” I’mya said thoughtfully. “But yes, he said he happened to find me first and knew that I could summon a dragon.”
“So, he already knows more than us,” growled Zendyor. “And any of us could be next.”
“I’m more concerned about what he said about magic and the death of a dragon,” Khyros murmured. “He is clearly well researched on dragorai culture as well as the language.”
“Magic aids the war,” I’mya said simply. “The king and queen will need to find new ways of executing magic in order to beat the other. That’s the only way they can compete. They are almost equally matched in all other ways.”
“How do you know that?”
I’mya shrugged. “Just things that I heard and saw when I was in the North.”
“Do you think you can brief us on that?” Tyomar asked. “We need all information we can get.”
I’mya nodded. “I have some questions for you, though, all of you.”
“Go ahead,” Khyros said.
“Why have you not done anything about the war?” she asked tentatively, glancing around the table. “Nyro told me that he is not concerned about the war of mortals. But you all seem to care about what the king and queen are doing. I saw the way your dragons could destroy ember. Why haven’t you done anything?”
“There is much we have done,” Zendyor said. “But we also have to protect ourselves and our lairs. Destroying ember would not stop it from reappearing. The queen and king would continue to launch into each other’s Dominions. It would be a never-ending task.”
“But it would give people hope that you are helping,” I’mya said. “Instead of doing it so covertly.”
“It would also put us right in the firing line for the king and queen and make us more vulnerable,” Sethorn said sharply. “The king has been studying us more than we realized. He is becoming aware of some of our weaknesses, even ones we didn’t know we had.”
I’mya sat thoughtfully for a long moment, and Nyro longed to lift her into his lap. “I will help you,” she said finally. “In any way I can. I am very familiar with parts of the North and some of the rumors and news that circle there.”
Nyro frowned. “You will not be putting yourself in any kind of danger,” he stated. “Your priority is to be with me.”
“Aren’t you going to be helping?” I’mya said sharply.
Zendyor and Sethorn snapped a look at her, their brows high. Tyomar looked like he wanted to laugh, and Khyros’ expression softened with amusement.
At that, Tyomar did laugh, while Nyro scowled. “Of course I am,” he bit out. “Do you think I want you being targeted again? Do you think I want my children growing up targeted? This king has perverted the Realm that we knew. It is time for me to help stop him.”
I’mya’s gaze softened. “I’m glad,” she said softly. She grinned. “You can make up for all the time you wasted.”
“I like her,” Zendyor decided.
“She certainly has the Vattoro temper,” Khyros muttered.
Nyro could not help the beam of pride that shone brightly within him at that comment.
“But I must agree with Nyro that you must be kept safe,” Khyros added. “You are our greatest opportunity of survive and continue our family line.”
“I have questions about that too,” I’mya said. “Why do you think I am Nyro’s mate? How can I be? Females of your kind died out, and they required dragons. I don’t have a dragon.”
“Actually, you do,” Zendyor said.
“It is to do with his dragon,” Sethorn explained. “Traditionally, a dragorai-dragon is born the same day as his alpha, and their bond is established that day. With dragorai-omegas, they are not paired with their dragons until they are older. The female dragon finds the omega and their bond is established. When two dragorais mate it has to be their dragons that do so first, the dragons decide everything—it is like that a lot in our culture. The dragons will meet, and if they mate, then the alpha and omega counterparts will mate as well. There has never been a case where there has been a mismatched pairing, ever.”
“All right,” I’mya said, slowly.
“Sanderyll is the one that chose you first,” Zendyor said. “He attempted to establish a bond with you a number of times—when you called to him on the balcony of the king’s tower, the first time, that is what he was attempting to do. The king was expecting that.”
Disbelief graced I’mya’s face. “So to establish the bond, he has to breathe fire on me and burn every single inch of my body?”
“Yes,” Zendyor said simply. “It happens to alphas when they are newborn. It is one of things that makes them more powerful than other alphas.”
I’mya shook her head. “So instead of me having my own dragon, I will share Nyro’s?”
“That is the way it seems,” Khyros said. “We recognize the behavior, but it is the male dragon that is exhibiting it. We cannot
do anything about that. He is following his instincts.”
I’mya nodded thoughtfully.
Nyro watched her closely to see if she was upset at the idea that Sanderyll had intended to purposely burn her, but she seemed more surprised and thoughtful about it rather than upset.
“But I don’t feel the bond,” I’mya said. “I don’t feel any different apart from the physical effects of the fire.”
“You will,” Tyomar said, smiling. “Once you finish your transitioning, you will.”
“I am pleased to have met you,” Khyros said, glancing at Nyro. “I believe your presence has changed our clan for the better. And I hope you can support and protect the clan as we will you.”
I’mya looked at all of them. “Am I… Do you forgive me?”
All of his brothers smiled.
“We do if Nyro does,” Sethorn said. “There are some things that are clan business, which we have addressed, and some topics that belong between mates.”
“I am happy to have you as part of our clan, I’mya,” Tyomar said.
I’mya turned to Nyro, beaming the most gorgeous smile with tears in her eyes. He finally lifted her into his lap, and she kissed him in front of all his brothers.
“There was one more thing that we have to discuss,” Zendyor said.
I’mya pulled away from Nyro, and he growled under his breath at Zendyor’s interruption.
“What is it?” Khyros asked.
“The trespasser.” Zendyor shot Nyro a hard glare. “I’d like to know how that investigation is going?”
Nyro’s arms around I’mya tightened, and she glanced at him, confused.
But Zendyor didn’t even look at her. He was looking straight at Nyro. Nyro ground his teeth. Was Zendyor trying to make a claim on I’mya after they had bonded? That didn’t make sense. “I don’t know why you persist with this ridiculous request, Zendyor,” Nyro said irritably.
“Have you begun the investigation?” Sethorn asked.
Since he had been given a direct instruction by Khyros to investigate it, Nyro was reluctant to say he hadn’t, but he also was not going to lie. “I will have something to tell you within the next new moon,” he grunted.