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ARRIVING AT STAVROK’S kingdom was like driving through another dimension. The streets were clean, the houses were all brightly lit and smoke billowed from the chimneys.
His people were obviously wealthy, and it made my stomach churn to think of how my mother and I had lived for so long. The struggle of our friends and neighbors. The taxes on the people. My people, now.
When the carriage rolled to a stop outside the actual castle, I got out and stared up at the incredible monument in front of me.
Wow.
The idea that I was invited as a guest to such a place, still felt like a dream.
“This way, sire.” A servant took my clothes and walked ahead, up the stairs before me.
I followed him, looking around and absorbing the atmosphere of the place. And once we stepped inside and the warm air hit my face, I sighed.
This was heaven.
There were expensive tapestries on the walls, lush carpets beneath my feet and from the sound of the general chatter and laughter in the castle, happy people around me.
The servant turned toward me. “I believe the main throne room is ahead, sire. I will take these clothes to King Stavrok’s staff.”
The servant headed off and I stared ahead at the well-lit doorway.
“Erik? Is that you?” Stavrok called from the end of the hallway.
I inhaled deeply and squared my shoulders. Time to be a king. I strode forward, entering the room and realizing it was a large sitting room. A huge fireplace was stoked with wood and welcoming flame, and in front, a set of large leather chairs seemed to beckon. Stavrok stood by with a bottle of alcohol.
I grinned at the huge man and walked forward to greet him. I clasped Stavrok’s hand, giving it a firm shake, and smiled in greeting at his wife who stood nearby. “Thank you so much for having me.”
“We’re excited to have you here!” Lucy said. She had a baby on each broad hip and she juggled them with seeming ease. “But where’s Marienne?”
I reached out a hand to the baby boy who grabbed my finger and smiled a toothless, gummy grin at me.
“She was unwell,” I said shortly. “She sent her apologies, and told me to come along and learn all I could from you two.”
Stavrok chuckled. “Well, she knows best. Come, follow me.”
Lucy hoisted the babies on her hips. “I need to put these two back in their cribs. I’ll meet you both in the dining room.”
She headed off toward the broad staircase at the center of the hall.
I watched her large, swinging hips as she left, then realized I was staring and pulled my gaze back to the king before me. “I apologize. Your family is...”
Everything I could ever want. I couldn’t express the thought without sounding odd, but it hung in the air between us.
Stavrok acknowledged my unspoken compliment with a broad, knowing smile. He led me into a huge dining room and poured us both a whiskey. The amber liquid sloshed in the glasses as he picked them up.
“I agree,” he said. “I’m a lucky man.”
We clinked glasses.
“To a successful alliance between our two great houses,” he said.
I nodded. “Hear, hear!”
I took a sip and enjoyed the burn that rolled down my throat. “So, from what I gather, you and my half-brother were not on friendly terms?”
Stavrok let out a booming laugh. “Because I killed him, you mean?”
So, it’s true.
I absorbed the information, careful not to let the shock show on my face.
Stavrok had been nothing but friendly to me, but I couldn’t let myself forget that this man was powerful as hell. This man had killed the previous ruler of my kingdom.
I simply nodded. Stavrok’s smile softened, and he led me over to the dining table. It was huge, and elaborately laid out with crystal glasses, white linen, and sparkling silverware. Seeming to pick up on my uncertainty, he indicated the chair to the left of him. I sat and nodded in gratitude.
He took his place at the head of the table, confident and stately. A true king.
There was a place setting to my left. A wave of sadness passed over me that Marienne would not be here to sit in what I saw as her rightful spot.
“Magnik wanted more than he had,” Stavrok said. I put aside my bleak thoughts about Marienne and refocused. “Always. He craved power, wealth, and domination over the other dragon kingdoms. When he saw a way to force me to hand over my lands, and the mining rights that come with them, he took it.”
“What did he do?” I asked.
“He kidnapped Lucy.”
My mouth dropped open.
“Excuse me?” I placed my drink on the pristine white tablecloth so that I didn’t spill it everywhere. “He... what?”
“He kidnapped me, held me in the dungeon, and threatened to kill me if Stavrok didn’t agree to his ransom conditions,” Lucy said, as she walked back into the room. Her tone was surprisingly breezy, given the horror of her tale. I wondered if all humans were this nonchalant, or if this one was unusual in that regard.
She sat down on the right side of her husband and laid a hand over his.
“Are our babes sleeping?” he asked her, in a gentle tone that I was surprised to hear from such a strong man.
She nodded, smiling. “Like little angels.”
Then she turned her gaze back on me just as I lifted my drink to my lips.
“So... Erik. I assume you have a temper?” She smirked at Stavrok. “It seems to be a feature in the bloodline of dragon kings.”
I choked on the whiskey, which shot up my nose and out of my mouth, making a general mess of everything around me.
Servants hurried over from every corner to clean up the spill, handing me napkin after napkin.
“I am sorry,” I said, annoyed at myself and embarrassed more than anything.
Could I make it any more obvious that I wasn’t raised to be anything other than a street urchin?
Stavrok grinned. “My wife has a wicked tongue. I should be the one apologizing to you.”
Lucy glared at him. “I was just asking a question.”
Question... question... What had she asked again?
Oh, that was right.
I bowed my head for a moment, gathering my thoughts.
“Well, yes,” I answered eventually. “I struggled with my temper a lot when I was younger. Especially through my growth years when I was first shifting. I set the town alight one too many times.” I winced. “The people named me Rage.... But my mother called me Erik.”
“And you prefer it over your longer name?” Lucy asked.
I inhaled sharply, not sure if I should admit to such a thing. But I didn’t wish to answer to Bravadik for the rest of my life, so I spoke honestly. “Yes.”
Bravadik, my royal name, still threw me off-balance every time I heard it. My father had told my mother what to call me when I was born, and it had always stuck in my craw that she had allowed him to have such a say over my life as to actually name me.
I never even met the man. He hadn’t sent me so much as a letter.
My hosts didn’t ask why I preferred the name Erik, however, and the conversation soon turned toward the running of the kingdom. Stravrok was aware that I didn’t know the first thing about statecraft, but he didn’t seem to hold it against me.
“My father considered the happiness of the people to be the most important part of running a kingdom,” Stavrok said. “If the townsfolk are warm, and well fed, then the whole land will prosper. That advice hasn’t failed me yet.”
I cast my mind back to the hardships I had faced, growing up in a humble village, far away from any finery. The long, dark winters. The famine. The cold nights where my mother had no kindling to keep us warm.
“Everything you told me about King Magnik...” I stared down at my plate. I knew I had to choose my words carefully; kings did not barrel through conversations like these. I had to be smart. “And everything I experienced in the past as one of his subjects... he is not a ruler I wish to emulate.”
Lucy snorted.
“But I don’t know the kingdom. Not as I should. Not as a king would. I...” I wavered. “There has to be a better way of doing things. I vowed to do right by my people when they placed the crown on my head. I want to honor that vow.”
Stavrok studied me, as if sizing me up. I looked back, not breaking eye contact. The huge, open fireplace behind us flickered, casting golden light over the table and filling me with a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in years.
Lucy opened her mouth as if she was going to say something. But before she could, however, the fireplace roared, flaring with light and heat. Flames shot upward and sparked out of the grate. The room filled with the sound of cutlery clattering against plates as Stavrok, Lucy, and I looked around with astonishment.
“What –” Stavrok began.
At the other end of the room, the double doors opened with a boom. A female figure stood in the doorway, flanked by two servants.
“Your Majesty, Dowager Queen Marienne of the Black Mountains.”
I froze in my seat.
Stavrok and Lucy stood up from the table.
“Marienne!” Lucy swept toward the visitor, pleasure visible on her face. “Erik said you were ill! I’m so glad you made it.”
Stavrok murmured something to me, but I couldn’t understand his words. My head was buzzing. Panic and adrenaline flooded through me, and my heart thundered in my chest.
Marienne stood in the doorway for what felt like an eternity. I watched, transfixed, as she began to move toward us. Everything else in the room grew dimmer as she approached, as though she was giving off her own source of light. Her long dress shimmered and rippled, hugging her gorgeous frame, and her dark hair flowed loosely across her shoulders.
I had never seen anyone more beautiful.
Her eyes captivated me the most. They were a deep indigo, so dark they could have been black. When they caught the light, they glowed with magic and mystery.
My heart clenched at the sight of those eyes.
Something inside me snapped. The barrier that held back my dragon broke, and it thundered to life. My dragon roared, more powerful than ever before, and in that moment, I knew I’d lost all vestiges of control.
I didn’t have time to shout a warning. My vision blurred, and the roaring inside my mind grew louder and louder as I slid off my chair, dropped to my knees and succumbed to the inevitable.
The dragon would not be silenced. It had seen Marienne, and in that split second, I was no longer the one calling the shots.
It had been years since I had shifted like this. Wild, spontaneous, and one hundred percent animal instinct. I couldn’t do anything but cling on for the ride; already my claws were lengthening, my ribcage expanding. My blurred vision sharpened as the dragon took over, and I let out a roar as my wings unfurled from my back. I beat them through the air, causing the fireplace to flicker and cutlery and glassware to fall to the floor with a clatter and crash.
I twisted around, trying to get my bearings. My human mind screamed out, but it was locked deep within the scaly hide of the dragon.
The dragon was on a mission. It had zeroed in on Marienne. She stood, pale and unmoving, staring up at me with those beautiful eyes.
She was everything I wanted. Everything I needed.
Stavrok inched into my peripheral vision. He had circled around me in a wide arc, careful not to place himself between me and Marienne. Lucy was nowhere to be seen.
He shouted something. With a heroic amount of effort, I wrenched my gaze off the woman in front of me and onto Stavrok.
My claws dragged along the floor as I moved toward him, and I growled, but he didn’t back down. He was still yelling.
What was he yelling?
“The windows! Get them open now!”
I knew—the part of me that was still a man, anyway—that I didn’t want to hurt anyone. But the dragon in me would rip this place apart if anyone tried to stop me from taking Marienne.
The woman herself, in contrast to the chaos around her, stayed remarkably composed. She gazed up at me, like she was waiting for something. I extended my wings out to their full capacity and the rush of air swept her hair back from her face. It fluttered and resettled around her shoulders, and I caught the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth.
Why was she not afraid of my dragon?
The wind picked up, cold and strong, and my head snapped up. The dragon was more alert than me, and I scanned the room, noting that the row of wide, floor-to-ceiling windows had been thrown open. The curtains billowed out like the sails of a ship, and the star-lit sky glittered beyond.
While I focused on Marienne, Stavrok had shifted, too. His dragon form loomed in the shadows, just as powerful and imposing as the man himself.
A tiny figure pressed up close against his dark, scaly side. Lucy.
Stavrok roared. A tongue of flame shot out through his open jaw.
I roared back, then stepped closer to Marienne. I crouched low, inviting her to climb onto my back. She came willingly, sliding over my shoulder and settling between my wings. I shuddered in delight as her tiny hands scrambled for purchase against my scales.
I spared a final glance at Stavrok. Our eyes met, and an understanding passed between us.
Then, I leapt to the closest open window, and launched with Marienne up and into the night.