by Selena Scott
Dalyer took a lumbering step toward Mel, his teeth gnashing, obviously about to gut her like a fish.
Idris tucked into an even tighter dive. He had to get there before Dalyer hurt Mel. But he shouldn’t have worried. Because Zara was there first. She plummeted out of the air in her gorgeous gray dragon form. She landed directly on Dalyer’s head, pinning him to the ground like a tremendous lizard.
She looked him in the eyes. “Burn in hell, Dalyer.”
And then Idris was landing next to him. Either the noise of the battlefield was fading out because of the blood rushing in Idris’s ears, or fights were dying down in the efforts to see what was happening between the kings.
Dalyer screamed out his rage and crazed fury, trying desperately to twist away from Zara. His roars were some of the only sounds that Idris could hear.
In that moment, Idris was all dragon. There was no man left inside him. His destiny burned in his heart like the center of the sun. Its twin radiated out from him as well. His other heart. The one that belonged to Isla. His queen.
He could feel her eyes on him from somewhere in the house. He was doing this for her. He took a step toward Dalyer. Because people deserved to be free from dickheads like Dalyer. Like Ivan. Because oppression was oppression, no matter how big or small.
Idris knew it in his bones. His chest. That he would fight against this forever. Until the end of his days. And the end of his days was not today.
He took another step toward the writhing Dalyer and was dimly aware of Amos and O and Donovan touching down on the ground around him. Solar circled overhead as Amos came up to flank Idris. A bodyguard to the king. The true king.
He stood next to them.
“Let him up,” he told Zara, and she obeyed him immediately, stepping back.
Dalyer sprang up, immediately lunging for Idris.
It was a mistake. Because as much as Idris had to learn about aerial fighting, hand to hand was born in him. He was a warrior.
His tail swung Dalyer’s legs out from under him and Idris immediately clamped his claws over the crimson dragon’s throat.
“You’ll never lead them the way I have,” Dalyer’s tongue slithered out of his mouth as he tore at Idris’s claws, trying to get loose from the hold.
“You’re right,” Idris agreed. “I’ll never be a tyrant.”
“They’ll die for me,” Dalyer choked out, his eyes rolling in his head as he searched for soldiers of his that never came. “They would never die for you.”
“Nah,” Idris said, holding Dalyer even higher up off the ground. “Nobody else is about to die for you. And I would never make them do that for me.”
“You’ll fail-” Dalyer choked, scratching at Idris’s claws desperately. “You’ll-”
But he never got to finish that last sentence. Because Idris simply reached down with his free claw and yanked Dalyer’s tail clean off of his body. Most of his spine yanked out along with it, leaving the fallen tyrant to sputter, choke, and fall limp where Idris tossed his steaming remains onto the ground.
And then Idris looked up at the sky. He thought of freedom. Of his people. Of Isla. He thought of her, gorgeous and ecstatic, out from under the shadow of the man that had terrorized her.
And he raised his snout to the night sky. And let free a jet of white fire, the same color as his scales. It was thirty feet long and as hot as a dying star. He roared out his passion. His surety. His destiny. He roared and flamed because he was king. He was a dragon. He was a king.
The thousand dragons that looked on were silent. In that eerie way that only large groups can be.
“The king fire.”
“The true sign.”
“Dalyer’s dead.”
“Dalyer’s gone.”
“He’s dead.”
“Idris killed him.”
“King Idris.”
“The white fire of a true king.”
The whispers rocketed through the group of dragons until they turned to words, to screams, to cheers. Some of Dalyer’s army turned and ran. Others touched down in a daze. Others wept.
The Surgere, on the other hand, were already partying.
Idris looked out at the surging, stunned crowd, and then down at the bloody, dead Dalyer, in two clean pieces on the ground. Well, three pieces, if you counted the wing that Mel had chopped off.
Idris stumbled forward when O rocketed into him. They rolled across the grass together. O’s complete and utter joy was contagious as the two brothers rolled and laughed and wrestled one another to the ground like maniacs. Like they had as children.
And next was Donovan, landing with a thud on top of his sons. The stoic man was weeping, true dragon tears of relief. Idris looked up. He saw Solar and Zara whipping in circles around one another, through the air. He saw Lucy come rocketing out of the house, launching herself into Mel’s arms. And then there was his mother, clutching Isla. The two women embraced, weeping.
That’s where he wanted to be. Immediately shifting back to his human form, he ran over to Isla and his mother.
“Here,” Isla said, handing him a pair of pants that she had flung over her shoulder. “I thought you might want these for the celebrations.”
He grinned at her, whipping them on before he leaned in and grabbed both of the women he loved best in the tightest hug he could.
“You did good,” his mother said, clutching his face. “You made it all worth it. All thirty years of it. You made it worth it.”
Tomorrow there would be the cleanup. The plans for what to do next. The mass exodus of people back to their homes. Idris would have to help all the people whose homes had been destroyed by Dalyer. He’d have to decide where to go next. Whether or not to go to Dalyer’s fortress or burn it to the ground. There would be all of that in the days and weeks and months and years to come.
But tonight, there was a party. Of monumental proportions. There was confusion and ecstasy and love and relief. For the entire night, Idris moved through the crowds of dragon shifters, grabbing hands, tending the wounded, talking and laughing and crying with his people.
And through it all, Isla was there next to him. Holding his hand. His queen.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“So, are they true mates or what?” Amos asked O, popping some grapes into his mouth as they all sat around the dinner table. It was three weeks after the great battle. And it was their last night all together as a group.
In the morning, they were all leaving Donovan and Felice in the great wooden cabin. Idris had decided that it was time to see his country. He needed to meet the people, start fixing problems, and choose a home base.
When Idris had told the group his and Isla’s plans, he’d received a lot of placid okays and raised shoulders.
“You know we’re going with you, right?” Solar had asked him.
Idris had been stunned to learn that not only were none of them returning to the human realm, they were also all joining Isla and him on the cross-realm trip. He had himself a cabinet of sorts.
“Um. I’m sitting right here, guys,” Isla said as she speared some salad on her fork. “I can hear you talking about whether or not we’re true mates.”
“Well, we were just debating it because you can’t really know unless one of you spouts the true mate fire. And as Idris spouted the true KING fire, well, I’m confused.” Amos shrugged. “I would have pegged you guys for true mates, but maybe not.”
Idris grinned at Isla’s furious expression.
It matched Lucy’s. “Good lord, muscles! Could you be any ruder?”
O looked around in festive glee at the group. In a matter of months, his family had pretty much tripled. And it was about to get even bigger. He kept eyeing Mel’s belly for the day that she’d finally start showing. Then he looked across the table at Ike who was busy making silly faces for baby Rudy. He hadn’t told anyone yet that the two of them were gonna end up together one day. He didn’t want to mess it up by speaking it out loud. But he also didn’t think A
mos’s blood pressure could handle it.
Maybe he’d tell Mel though. Just because she could keep a secret. And she’d love it so much. Almost as much as he loved her. And their baby. A boy. O sighed. Their boy was going to be an oracle. With any luck, he’d have an easier go of it. Seeing as his father was an oracle, too. A luxury O hadn’t had as a kid.
Next, his eyes fell on Solar and Zara. Zara was so close to popping that Solar had her basically lying down in an easy chair at the table. O’s gaze fell to her belly. That was a real special one in there. A girl. A fighter, like her mother. She was going to help lead Idris’s army against an insurgent group. O tried not to sigh out loud at that one. He thought the group deserved a little break before he broke the news that peace was not everlasting. But it was gonna hold out for about thirty good years. And when it ended, Idris would handle it well. With the firm and steady mind of a truly good leader.
And that brought him to his brother. Idris. The one they’d all been searching for. The only one who could have ended it.
Idris spoke up in response to Amos. “Well, we won’t know if we’re true mates until Isla gets pregnant. Right?”
“Right,” O confirmed. “And, oh yeah. You are.”
A chicken bone fell out of Isla’s mouth and landed with a clatter on her plate. “What.”
Her look was mirrored perfectly on Idris’s face.
Idris cleared his throat. “True mates or pregnant?”
“Duh. Both,” O replied.
Mel pinched the bridge of her nose. “Tact. O, we talked about this. TACT.”
Isla and Idris turned to one another, twin looks of astonishment and excitement on their faces. Felice held her hands over her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears. Donovan leaned over and gently kissed her hair.
“We gotta get married! Otherwise we’ll have a bastard prince or princess on our hands,” Idris said.
“Yeah,” Isla said. “Wouldn’t want that. Stripper queen, bastard offspring. Bad look.”
“Are we all just trusting this guy that they’re true mates?” Solar asked.
“Well, he is an oracle, son,” Donovan said.
“Yeah, but true mate fire is so cool,” Solar insisted. “We gotta test it out.”
He lifted his steak knife from his plate and leaned across the table, pointing the tip right at Isla’s chest.
It was burned to a crisp before it even reached the halfway mark. Solar whipped his hand back, sucking on his singed fingers. “Holy hell! You can create fire in your human form? That is so fucking awesome!”
Idris blew away the rest of the smoke from his mouth. Shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say? I’m the king.”
He leaned over, took his girl by the back of her head and kissed her.
Isla closed her eyes tight. Pressed one hand into her belly and the other hand into Idris’s cheek. She couldn’t believe her life. She had everything she’d never even hoped to have. She had freedom from fear. From pain. She was here, choosing this life with both hands. With her whole heart. She could feel Idris’s love. But she could also feel the love of everyone else who sat at the table. Her whole family. She fell into the kiss. Into Idris. Into the world they’d created together.
The End