by K. M. Raya
The situation is dawning on me as well and I can’t help but be overcome with hopelessness and aching fear. After five years of living and training peacefully in the Darklands, the idea of making my way back to Karn to fight against my own people makes me want to retch. Most of those human soldiers had no choice but to surrender. Their families and their lives depended on it. They will fight for him in exchange for their family’s wellbeing. I’m supposed to be their queen, and yet I’ve been hiding where it’s safe for too long. Like a coward…
I look to Shayde, whose face is drawn up into a frown. He looks at me and I can see a question in his eyes. “Wesley,” he asks. “Why were you spared?”
I blink at Shayde. I have no idea why none of us bothered to ask this before. It’s such a simple question. Wesley looks to the floor, clenching his jaw tightly before answering reluctantly. “The kingdom is dying,” he tells us, but this is nothing new. “Sephrian is out of control. He kills humans for sport and entertainment and it’s spilling into the villages. The Kindred that followed his rebellion are using the humans as slaves…” His voice is strained and there is so much pain in his eyes. “Sephrian’s gone mad with power—even his brothers are too weak to stop him.” He looks up. “The human soldiers tried to kill him once, but that shadow assassin hovers over Sephrian and protects him somehow. He’s untouchable.”
“This still doesn’t explain why he kept you alive,” mutters Thallan.
Wesley takes a deep breath. “I don’t know, he had me studying, training and taking care of prisoners, but I left before I knew what he wanted with me.”
His words sound honest and weary, but something in the back of my mind screams that Wesley is lying to us. There’s no way to know without endangering his life some more. Thallan is just waiting for the word, he wants Wesley dead, I can see it in his eyes.
“We can’t take any chances,” says Roark. “We have to gather allies—any we can muster.” He looks to me. “I’ve written to Derrund in Paragon, he’s agreed to meet, but nothing is set in stone.”
My breath hitches. The war chief Derrund of the giants is a legendary figure—one I read stories about as a young girl. The humans in Karn spoke of him as a nightmare, a monster who demolished cities and toppled empires. Fear shoots through my body, but so does excitement. “How did you get the war chief to agree to this?” I ask in disbelief.
Thallan clears his throat. “Paragon owes the elves a favor or two. I won’t get into it right now, but I knew he’d listen when we called on them. They’ll be invaluable assets when the time comes.”
“Which is exactly why we need you be at the helm.” Roark nods to Thallan. “Sera, you can accompany Thallan and his men along with Rayne, and one healer.”
“I want Anya with me,” I interject without hesitation.
Wesley scoffs. “You want to put my sister in danger?”
I narrow my eyes at the man still tied to his chair. “Your sister has been looking after herself without you for five years, Wesley. In case you haven’t noticed, we don’t need you to protect us anymore.”
His eyes darken, and my heart lurches. I’m being cruel, but I need to stay focused. “If Anya goes, then so do I,” he insists and it’s Thallan’s turn to growl.
“I’ll not be responsible for a necromancer’s life,” he spits, folding his arms over his chest.
Roark slams his massive hand down on the wooden table, stopping the bickering at once as his eyes flit from one person to the next. “We have no time for this nonsense. You’ll take the mancer with you. If he betrays us or puts you in danger—kill him and let it be done with,” he orders and a bitter grin tilts Thallan’s lips. “Belinda and Riehl will come with me, and Anya...can you spare an apprentice? Dorethe won’t respond well if I bring soldiers, but we need a healer if we’re journeying through the Tainted Waters…”
“Tainted—” Belinda chokes. “Roark you can’t be serious!”
“It’s the only way. We need their help if we have even a chance of defeating Sephrian’s army.”
“I’ll send Solara with you, her apprenticeship is almost complete,” Anya suggests and Roark nods gratefully. He looks around at the eager faces in the room and my stomach tingles with a nervous energy. I haven't left the Veil in five long years and I’m about to journey to the edge of it all.
“It’s settled,” he says quietly. “We leave at dawn.”
~~~
Rayne leads our small group at dawn—being a seer, he can warn us of potential dangers, though over the years we’ve learned not to rely on it.
I remember the time five years before when I’d been confused as to why a young boy was leading a band of thieves into the Darklands. I look back on those days fondly now, when everything was new and wondrous. As a young girl, I rarely left my father's castle unless it was to travel to the stronghold in Zegrath to visit Gavriel. I miss my favorite brother every single day, but the sting of his death has long faded with a new sadness taking its place. Even as we travel through the Darklands in search of answers to our crisis, my mind wanders to my mother and how my heart aches at her loss. We’d grown close over the last five years—not necessarily as a mother and daughter would have, had we known one another from birth, but as companions and friends.
Tilda was a steady presence in my life as I left my childhood behind and became a stronger mage, just like her. Being the daughter of a seasoned battle mage blessed me with a tremendous amount of magic that I’m still trying to hone. Once I learned to master the basics, such as defensive casting and controlling an element, the rest started to come naturally. Thallan’s been a masterful teacher with his many years of experience...though he refuses to tell me just how many—he’d been able to teach me things I never dreamed were possible, all thanks to the General and her visions for my future in the Veil.
We travel for two full days, passing the Windy River—aptly named, for the heavy wind that funnels itself through a narrow corridor between two towering mountains. The warm air is sucked into the cavernous passage and whistles as it flows over the shallow waters, creating beautiful music and a general sense of wellbeing. My long, unbound hair whips around my head in a tangle of bright crimson, but I refuse to bind it back the way I’d done when on the run from Sephrian’s men. I refuse to hide any longer.
We travel for two more days and I can tell Patch is tiring already. She’s trained right alongside me—no longer the pampered royal show horse she once was, but this journey is taking a lot out of us. We stop at sunset to make camp and rest for our last night before meeting the giants at the edge of the Short Sea. The lot of us are too tired for conversation, so we all go about setting up camp and making ourselves comfortable. I want to talk with Anya, but she’s busy with Rayne—sneaking off into the woods, thinking nobody’s paying attention. I smile to myself as I watch them disappear into the dense trees. Anya deserves that happiness, but one glance at Wesley as he unrolls a woolen blanket and settles himself in for the night, I can tell he’s not happy with this development. He glares at the spot in which they disappeared, but he has no true power here. He’s no longer Anya’s protector…or mine for that matter.
My small smile transforms into a grimace. As the sun begins to sink below the horizon, the forest is cast in a luminous violet light, but the trees around us darken—allowing the shadows to stretch across the moss-covered ground. There’s a chill in the air and all I can think about is the shadow assassin. I picture it in my mind’s eye and can’t help but see it right here, staring at me through the trees and just waiting to get me alone. Logically, I realize that if the thing had wanted me dead, it would have killed me in my mother's charred chambers right alongside her. But for some reason, the shadow seemed thrown by my presence—as if somehow it hadn’t been expecting me. It makes me wonder...
A shadow falls over my body, blocking out the dim sunlight. I would have startled, but a comforting presence wraps around me and I recognize the leathery, ashy scent of Shayde as he lowers himself onto the g
round next to me. His long legs are bent, and he rests his elbows on his knees—so human-like, and yet I know he’s far from it.
“You need sleep,” he grumbles, though he’s not looking at me. He stares out into the darkness of the trees, but I know he’s keenly aware of everything around us. Keenly aware of me.
“Speak for yourself—you never sleep.” I side eye the profile of his strong jaw. “Unless big bad dragons survive solely off the blood of their enemies…”
His full lips turn up at the corners reluctantly and I feel my heart stutter. Shayde tips his head back, letting his long hair fall behind him and gazes at the full, round moon—hovering in the sky right next to the setting sun that casts a warm glow across his dark skin.
“Dracs don’t need as much sleep as your kind, we prefer the night,” he whispers. “I’m content to let the moonlight fill me with the energy I need.”
Huffing, I rub my chilled arms and shiver. “That sounds exhausting.”
Shayde laughs, it rumbles out like a clap of thunder in the otherwise calm night. “On the contrary, little mage, I’m quite relaxed. The moon is high, and the air is crisp—” He breathes in deeply. “I think I may go fly for a while.” All I can do is marvel at the man and watch the way the dim light plays on his glowing yellow eyes. Shayde belongs in the forest. He’s a wild creature, filled with unmatched strength and power. “Fly with me?” he asks softly.
Caught off guard, I laugh. “Mages can't fly, we can only hover,” I tease him and he cracks a smile wide enough for his fangs to poke through.
“I meant with me, Sera. On the back of my dragon.”
My eyes widen...his dragon. I’ve never seen him in his dragon form although I’d imagined what it would look like more times than I can count. The prospect fills me with excitement and anticipation. “Shayde—I don’t know, are you sure?” It’s well known that a shadow drac holds their dragon form protectively. My mother had been gifted with drac armor, but to ride one? I’ve never heard of such a thing.
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure,” he tells me as he stands up from the ground and walks into the trees. I scramble to my feet and follow him, looking around first to see that everyone else is safe.
Before I make it a few steps away from our camp, my eyes find a glittering iridescent gaze as Thallan sits there, leaning his broad back against a thick tree—watching me in silence. Idly, I wonder if I should say something to him, but the scowl on his pretty face makes me angry. He’s the one who’s always made it a point to keep things from becoming serious between us. He’s the one who keeps his stoic distance. I can’t force something he doesn’t want, no matter how hard my heart pulls me towards him.
After a small trek through the trees, we come to a stop on the edge of a massive cliff overlooking the lower valley which holds a labyrinth of streams and tree roots that grow larger and thicker than my entire body. Here, the forest floor dips down low and thick fog undulates over the grassland. The Darklands is a perplexing place; its landscape might seem perilous to an outside eye, but to me...it's home.
“Are you ready? My dragon is itching to come out,” Shayde asks as we stand on the ledge with our hair whipping around our faces.
“I want to see...” My smile stretches across my face. It feels like a lifetime since I’ve smiled for real.
He hesitates for only a moment—a brief flash of worry clouding his face before he wipes it away and closes his eyes. Shayde’s body begins to contort. It happens in the blink of an eye and a swift crack of bone, but suddenly an enormous black dragon stands before me. He’s magnificent—possibly the most beautiful creature I’ve ever imagined. His black scales are like that of his armor, thick and heavy but slicked with a shining coat of what looks like glass. The skylight reflects off their surface like water. He stands about three heads taller than his human form and his black, bat-like wings are wide and powerful and tipped with black jewels that looked like shards of diamond. Yellow eyes the size of my head stare back at me and glow in the night like a cat. When he blinks, I’m astonished to see that he has a secondary eyelid—a transparent one that closes sideways beneath his top lid.
Excitement fills my body instead of the fear I’d almost expected. If dragons could have facial expressions, I might have imagined his relief, but he simply lowers his massive neck to the ground and allows me to climb on. Once situated, I slide backwards and brace myself by locking my knees around the back of his shoulder blades. His scales are rougher than I’d anticipated—like the surface of a river rock and they allow my fingers to find purchase and hook underneath. My arms lock tight. I whisper under my breath that he’d better not drop me, and a rumble of what I’m assuming is laughter rolls through his body, vibrating beneath me.
Shayde launches us right off the side of the cliff and we plummet for too long before the air catches the underside of his wings and forces us back up until we’re gliding. The air is icy and crisp, but I feel more alive than ever. The land whips by as we travel above the valley. In the night, animals of the Darklands are a whole different breed than in the daylight. I gaze down at the forest below and watch as a large pack of silver wolves sprint beneath us in a tight formation. They’re hunting. The wolves are luminous, and their silver fur gleams in the moonlight, causing them to blend in with the undulating fog that rolls over the grasslands. Their ominous howls fill the night like music.
The sound of smaller wings flutters somewhere in the distance. I flit my eyes from side to side and crane my head to see what’s joined us in the sky. Shayde doesn’t seem on alert so I take that as a sign that whatever it is means us no harm. More wing flaps join the cacophony of noise. A wraith pulls up alongside us—a smaller version of Shayde’s dragon form, but a deep jewel blue color with thick horns protruding from its head. Unlike a shadow drac, a wraith doesn’t have a human form, but they’re just as intelligent and are still considered kin to the dracs. The wraith is joined by two others—one a deep moss green and the other the color of aged bone. They duck and swoop around one another in the air as they play. It makes me wonder if this is the sort of thing that Shayde enjoys doing even when I’m not around. The thought makes me smile. Imagining the fearsome shadow drac warrior frolicking in the sky with wraiths brightens my night.
After a while, the wraiths fly off somewhere over the vast dark sea in the distance, and Shayde circles us around for a while longer before landing atop the same cliffside we leapt from. Jumping down, I land on shaky legs and turn away as the sound of cracking bone fills the silence.
“What did you think?” He asks quietly. I can tell something’s worrying him—as if he’s wondering if he scared me away.
“That was the most thrilling thing I’ve ever done,” I assure him, shaking out my jittery limbs and attempting to calm my wild red curls. His face settles into a relieved smile. “Thank you—”
“This doesn’t have to be the last time, Sera,” he whispers, stepping in closer.
I hold my breath as he closes in, I have to crane my neck in order to keep eye contact. He’s such a massive man, hovering over me like a mountain. His dark muscles ripple beneath his skin and I have the strongest urge to reach out and run my fingers along the ridges.
“If you keep looking at me like this, I’ll no longer be responsible for my actions,” he growls, making me shiver.
I’m breathing harder now, fingers digging into his skin. “This is how I’ve always looked at you—” He stops my words with his lips after sweeping me into his strong arms.
His lips roll over mine slowly, tasting the night air on my skin and a growl rumbles low in his chest. He lifts me higher until my legs come to rest on the sides of his hips, wrapping around his waist and locking tight. I run my hands up and over his wide shoulders and travel them upwards until I’m grabbing fists full of his long hair. As he presses in, I can feel the very tips of his fangs begin to graze my lips, sending strikes of pleasure throughout my body. I writhe against him and he releases my mouth only to trail his
lips down the side of my neck.
“I’ve been waiting to do that for so long—” he whispers between kisses. “I’ve watched you...wanted you—” I stifle his words with my lips again, greedy for anything he can give me.
Taking a breath, I pull my head back and look up into his bright eyes, searching his face. “I never knew…” He smiles. “All these years, why didn’t you say something?”
He clucks his tongue, kissing me chastely, light as a feather. “You were young, Sera. Too young for what I require.” I shiver at his words and all their possible meanings. “The moment I saw you, I knew one day you’d be mine, even if I had to wait a little longer.” His voice is so sure, so sincere that it penetrates my heart causing it to ache in a good way. “I’ve watched over you through the years, hoping one day you’d understand how much you mean to me. I’m a patient man.”
I frown. “I don’t understand, why me?”
He chuckles, leaning in to place a small, soft kiss on my mouth, but the next thing I know I’m biting his lip, eliciting a low, rolling rumble from deep in his chest. “Has anyone ever told you how dracs take their mates?”
My belly flutters. “Not in detail, no,” I breathe. I learned about the Kindred from my tutors, but because the queen forbade it, I was unable to get my fill. I remained ignorant of most traditions and histories until I made it to the Darklands, but I feel like there’s still a whole world of information I have yet to unlock.
He takes his hand and brings it up to my cheek, lightly dragging his fingertips down over my jawbone. His eyes flit between mine, searchingly. “Dracs take only one mate in their lifetime, but no one has ever made me feel the connection...until our eyes locked the day you came to the Veil.” I remember that day vividly, and every time it gives me chills. I felt a connection too.
My breath catches in my chest and my heart stutters. “What are you saying…”