The Dragon and the Queen (The Raven and the Dove Book 3)

by Kaitlyn Davis

  The Dragon and the Queen

  The Raven and the Dove Book 3

  Kaitlyn Davis

  Copyright © 2021 by Kaitlyn Davis M.

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Illustration: Salome Totladze

  Map Illustration: Arel B. Grant

  Cover & Map Typography: Kaitlyn Davis

  The right of Kaitlyn Davis to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be direct infringement of the author’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  This is a work of fiction and any resemblances between the characters and persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  To my family for their unconditional love,

  my friends for their overwhelming support,

  and my fans for their incredible enthusiasm.

  Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Xander

  2. Lyana

  3. Cassi

  4. Rafe

  5. Captain Rokaro

  6. Xander

  7. Lyana

  8. Cassi

  9. Malek

  10. Brighty

  11. Rafe

  The Diary

  12. Xander

  13. Lyana

  14. Cassi

  15. Rafe

  16. Malek

  17. Lyana

  18. Xander

  19. Cassi

  20. Rafe

  21. Captain Rokaro

  The Diary

  22. Cassi

  23. Xander

  24. Rafe

  25. Lyana

  26. Rafe

  27. Lyana

  28. Cassi

  The Diary

  29. Xander

  30. Lyana

  31. Rafe

  32. Cassi

  33. Xander

  34. Lyana

  35. Malek

  36. Rafe

  37. Lyana

  38. Xander

  39. Cassi

  The Diary

  40. Lyana

  41. Cassi

  42. Xander

  43. Rafe

  44. Malek

  45. Xander

  46. Cassi

  The Diary

  47. Lyana

  48. Xander

  49. Rafe

  50. Lyana

  51. Cassi

  52. Lyana

  53. Brighty

  54. Rafe

  55. Lyana

  56. Rafe

  57. Xander

  58. Cassi

  The Diary

  About the Author

  Also by Kaitlyn Davis

  Prologue

  The seer lay in bed listening to the creak of old wood and the slap of waves as the ship rolled with the ocean. The inky blackness behind her closed eyelids was her only respite from time. In here, the world was calm. In here, the days and years and centuries stood still.

  "Mira."

  His voice drew her back the way it always did, and she turned toward the sound. He stood in the doorway, his body lithe and strong, the golden skin of his bare arms smooth and his long hair a deep bronze. One step and everything shifted. Wrinkles marred his brow and white scruff covered his chiseled cheeks. Another step and time turned further still, leaving his skin sagging and his spine bent. Another step, another age, on and on, until he was across the room. The ship around him blurred too, the walls shifting from freshly stained grains to algae-covered planks to nothing but rot with holes. Everything stopped the moment he threaded his fingers through hers.

  "Zavier?" She blinked the visions away and stared into his hazel eyes, the one constant in her ever-changing world. No matter how old her magic made him look, his gaze remained the same—steadfast and loving, her anchor in the storm. "What's going on?"

  "We're here."

  "Where?"

  "Come. They're waiting for you."

  He'd told her. If she could only just remember, but the hours bled from one to the next, leaving her unsure of what was real and what had happened only in her mind. Even as he helped her to her feet, she couldn't remember which stage of life was now and which was merely a flash of things to come. She lived a thousand lives every single second, shifting through time the way one might flip through the pages of a book, the world always in flux.

  Zavier led her through the ship, keeping one of his broad eagle wings wrapped around her shoulders to fight the chill. Her homeland had been a warm place of constant sun, but this new world they found themselves in was turning gray. At least that's what he told her. As they made their way outside, the sky shifted, hazy then clear then opaque, premonitions of things to come.

  "The mages have begun construction on a floating city," he explained as they walked toward the bow. "They're bringing the survivors here to begin the new world, and news of the prophecy has spread. They want to meet you. They want to hear it from your lips."

  Stopping beside a damp railing, she huddled closer to his warm chest. Through the translucent mist, a jagged isle topped by thick forest came into view. Surrounding it on all sides was a vast array of ships, some old and some new, some fit for royalty and some no more than rowboats. Above them all, magic lit the skies.

  But even with Zavier so close to her, out in the open like this, her power stole her sight. When she blinked, the forest was gone, replaced by an imposing castle built straight into the rock. Homes and bridges and walkways covered the seas. And there were people, so many people, looking drawn and forlorn. Suddenly, orange blazed against charcoal black. The castle was engulfed in flames as raging fires filled her gaze and cries split her ears. A deep roar made her shiver—she'd heard the terrifying sound too many times before. Golden power glittered through the air, the sort that still made her tremble in both awe and fear. The beasts were there. They were coming. This time they'd win.

  That’s not now, she tried to remember. That's later—much, much later.

  "Mira," Zavier whispered, his breath tickling her cheek as his voice drew her back. She tightened her hold on his fingers and blinked the future from her eyes. The forest returned, and the odd grouping of ships, and the small force of mages trying to build a new world from the utter devastation of their old one. "Stay with me."

  She was trying.

  "The seer," people murmured as they neared.

  "The chrono'kine."

  "The prophetess."

  The rainbow aura lighting the skies dampened as faces turned her way and the world fell silent, nothing but the subtle crashing of waves as her ship cut through the sea. There was no need to confirm who she was in a crowd of mages. The truth was clear. The rosy spark of her magic glittered across her cheeks and her arms, covering every inch of her skin. Once, in a time that felt so long ago, she'd had a certain amount of control over the power. But that was before she and Zavier had sacrificed so much, before she'd succumbed for the sake of saving them all. Now, it always simmered beneath the surface and leaked from her pores, as vital as breathing.

  A man on a gilded ship stepped forward, a crown gleaming on his brow. He was no aethi'kine, that much she knew. They'd all been killed in the fighting. But it seemed he was a king nonetheless.

  "Welcome to Da'Kin," he
called across the sea, the wind carrying his voice as yellow ignited along his fingers. "This is the start of the new world. It's not much now, but one day it will be a grand city."

  Fire flashed across her sight.

  She swallowed and tightened her hold on Zavier's hand, forcing the vision away. By the end of this king's lifetime, it would be a grand city, in scope if not substance. He would be long dead before the day it burned to ash. There was no point in dashing his dreams now.

  "That it will," she said, keeping her voice kind.

  The man grinned as his gaze swept across the ships and sea, no doubt seeing something else entirely. "We've all heard the words by now, prophetess. They travel faster than the breeze, but still, there would be no greater honor than to hear them upon your lips."

  The words.

  She knew exactly which ones he meant. Aside from Zavier and a few major players, they were the only other constant in her shifting world, whispered across time and sewn into the fabric of fate, laced with hope and promise. She'd written the full story down once, long ago, back when there'd been paper and ink, before the presses had crumbled and the libraries had burned and the world had split, leaving nothing but dreary ruin here below. She'd kept a diary, housing all her deepest secrets within its fragile leather binding. But it wasn't meant for this gray existence upon the sea. Deep caverns and dry underground caves would keep it preserved until the day it was meant to be found. She could see the moment now—a woman’s hands reaching overhead as silvery eyes flashed across the dark.

  "Mira."

  She returned to the present and the many faces angled toward her, breathless with anticipation and desperate for a little bit of hope. She'd crafted her visions into a poem, something short and easy to remember, but the words had gained a life force of their own. They would exist across the ages, passed down from generation to generation, a prayer whispered not to the gods but to heavy hearts in need of lifting. The world below would remember. Despite the desolation, they would carry her visions with them until the day came to see them through.

  The seer shared her prophecy.

  When it was done, cheers rang across the skies, but she was somewhere else, hundreds of years ahead, her thoughts still on her diary somewhere far above. A picture formed of a man with soft lavender eyes and deep onyx wings. The space around him was hazy and in flux, not yet settled. His future was uncertain, but one thing was clear.

  The fate of her diary somehow lay with him.

  1

  Xander

  Hidden behind the trunk of an old oak tree, Xander pulled the worn leather volume from the folds of his jacket. The binding cracked as he flipped open the pages and a musty smell wafted from the paper making him feel at home. The words scrawled across the pages, however, were anything but familiar. The language was ancient, which begged the question, why had Cassi even wanted it in the first place?

  Why do I?

  Just holding the book brought him back to their hours together in the libraries of Rynthos and long days filled with endless debates. No one had challenged him the way she had. No one had stimulated him so much either. But it had been a lie. Every moment they'd spent together, she'd only been pretending.

  Xander sighed and dropped his head against the bark. Cassi had been born beneath the mist. She'd spied on Lyana for a foreign king. She'd coordinated the attack in the sacred nest. She'd cut off Rafe's wings.

  So again he asked, why had he kept it?

  He could have let the book drown alongside his homeland. He could have let Cassi drown too. But he hadn't. As the House of Whispers had been swallowed by the sea, he and Lyana had saved her life. Were they fools? Were they idealists? Maybe those were two sides of the same coin. He didn’t know. But if he closed his eyes, he could still see her lifeless body strewn across the damp planks of the ship where they’d left her, and the very thought made him ill.

  "I should've known I'd find you with a book."

  "Lyana!"

  Xander pushed off the tree and spun to face her. His cheeks flushed and a guilty feeling stirred in his chest. If the princess noticed, she didn’t show it. Amusement lit her eyes.

  "Were you reading?"

  "No…" He sighed and stuffed the book back beneath his jacket. No matter how much he fought the sensation, he couldn't deny that it was a comfort to have that weight against his breastbone. "Just thinking."

  "Nothing good, judging by the look on your face."

  He tried to refute her but found himself mute. Nothing good, indeed. What did he have to be happy about? His isle had fallen from the sky. His mother had died in the process. His people were homeless. His kingdom was ruined. Xander prided himself on his optimism, but even his well had run dry.

  "I'm sorry," Lyana murmured, taking his hand.

  Xander’s eyes met warm green ones. "For what?"

  "For not being there to help you. For not being strong enough to stop it or quick enough to save her."

  His heart lurched. He knew to which her she referred. A scene came to life in the back of his mind, of his mother in her royal rooms as the ceiling caved in, crushing even her stubborn spirit under the rubble. Now she was entombed beneath ocean and fog, out of his reach, but hopefully her soul had found some sort of rest. His patron god, Taetanos, owed him that at least.

  "We'll save the rest," he finally said and squeezed her fingers. Now it was Lyana's turn to let doubt cloud her features. Could she be the hope their people needed? Could she convince them to trust in her magic? "Whether they believe us or not, whether they want our help or not, somehow we'll find a way to save them. Not just the ravens, but everyone."

  A horn sounded through the forest.

  "They're ready for us," Lyana said, pulling away.

  He held on to her hand. "Are you?"

  "You asked me that yesterday."

  "And now I'm asking again." He dropped her fingers but didn't release her gaze. "I know we're to be mates in name only, but even that is a promise you don't need to give. I've heard the prophecy. I know you're meant for more. And sometimes a good sleep can open a person's eyes—"

  "Xander," she cut in. "I wouldn't be doing this if I didn’t want to—you, of all people, should know that. Does the world below need me? Yes. But so does our world. So do our people. And I won't abandon them. I refuse to believe I must choose one or the other. I'm going to help them both. And you're going to help me, whether you want to or not."

  Well, he couldn't argue with that. The corner of his lip twitched, and he offered her his arm. "Then I guess I have no choice but to escort you to our coronation."

  She grinned and hooked her elbow through his. "I guess not."

  Together, they made their way through the nameless forest at the northern edge of the House of Song. It was, perhaps, the last place he'd ever envisioned for receiving his crown—not that there would even be a crown. The royal jewels were gone. So was the throne room…and the scepter…and the official robes. But none of it mattered. As they stepped through the trees and into the clearing filled by a sea of lost ravens, such frivolities couldn’t have been further from his mind. He had his people. They had him. And in the end, that was all his kingdom needed to survive.

  A path opened as they made their way to the center of the crowd, Lyana in a tattered ivory overcoat and he in a grimy, bloodstained jacket. Their trousers were covered in filth. Her braids were half-undone and his hair was a mop upon his head. Dirt smattered both their cheeks. Not even a day had passed since the House of Whispers had fallen beneath the mist, and it showed. Yet he'd never felt more like a king. His people watched them with respect, hope gleaming in their eyes.

  A reverent silence settled as they came to a stop before Helen, who held two crowns made of onyx feathers in her palms. "Prince Lysander Taetanus and Princess Lyana Aethionus, I stand before you as a herald of our gods and ask you to humble yourselves before their might. No king or queen is above their power. And as you pray before them, so shall you pray before your people as you
ask for their blessing on your reign."

  Xander had spent the better part of the morning coaching Lyana through the ceremony, so she showed no hesitation as he took her hand. They knelt before Helen and bowed their heads. A shadow came over his face as his captain of the guards lifted the crowns. Though his hovered above his head, not touching his brow, a heaviness still settled on his shoulders—the weight of so many eyes, the weight of his heritage, the weight of the gods and the traditions and the home he wanted to honor. Even the absences were a burden, none more acute than the empty space by his side where his brother should have been. The spot Lyana filled somehow felt hollow too. She'd be his queen, but not his mate. She'd be his partner, but not in the way he had once dreamed. Before his people, they'd be a god-chosen king and queen. Behind closed doors, they'd speak of magic and dragons and a war his world would never understand. In many ways, the coronation was a lie. But it was a lie they needed.

  Helen's voice drew him back. "Do you promise to honor Taetanos, God of fate and fortune and all that comes in the life that follows, and to do all in your power to shepherd lost spirits to his realm?"