Chapter 20

Chapter

Twenty

STORM

I come up behind Ember as she's pouring herself a cup of iced tea from the pitcher in Rhiannon and Amy's kitchen. She can tell I'm there, relaxing back into me in a way that's still a miracle. Tingles of heat race up my arm where it brushes her spine, and I have to suck in a breath.

I would have given anything to be this free with her, back when we were in the Air Kingdom.

I flex my jaw, bitter bile rising to the back of my throat. Anything except my crown, that is.

Now that's forfeit, and I don't know why the fuck I didn't give it up back then.

Our bond is still so fresh and needy. All I want to do is wrap her up in my arms and hide away with her in a cloud of sheets and skin and kisses for days.

We only had one night, though--and we had to share it with three other men.

Fresh heat blooms in my blood.

It was a hell of a fucking night. I wanted her all to myself, but sharing her was so easy and sexy. A part of my psyche said I should resist, but watching her be possessed by her other mates only drove my desire to a higher plane. She was so gorgeous--so utterly unguarded. I'd never seen her glow so brightly. She was free in a way she never was before.

I brush my lips against her ear and set a hand on her hip. "You sure we can't sneak away for a few hours?"

I'm half-hard in my jeans. I lean forward, letting her feel it, and she shudders, letting out a quiet noise that sends even more of my blood rushing south.

But she exhales roughly and forces herself to stand up straighter. "I wish."

Drink in hand, she turns around, and I reluctantly give her space to move. She glances toward the living room, her fingers playing restlessly against her glass.

I follow her gaze. Just about all of Ember's mates and friends have assembled in the tiny space. We ran out of chairs a long time ago, but no one seems particularly put off by that. There's a tang of nervous excitement to the air. Everyone wants to know what's going on--and what the plan is for what happens next.

Frowning, I tug her in closer, curling an arm around her shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." She nods, but I don't need a fated mate connection to know that she's battling a storm of anxiety beneath her calm exterior.

"Liar," I tease, rubbing her arm in an attempt to take any sting out of the word.

Just then, the back door to the place opens. My pulse quickens, but it's just Rhiannon and Freya, arriving with the three Shadow Dragons, as expected.

Amazing--that I would let down my guard because it's "just" a bunch of Shadow Dragons.

While Rook showed up seemingly ready to launch himself--and us--right into a war, Ember insisted that he, Mariutza and Delaynie take a few minutes to rest and freshen up. The hotel has to be reaching capacity with so many refugees occupying its rooms. But some lunch, a nap and a shower seem to have done wonders for them all. The old woman, Mariutza, has a brightness to her dark eyes, and her granddaughter looks like a weight's come off of her shoulders.

Even Rook is standing up straighter, favoring his injured side less prevalently. He's traded his tattered suit for a new, less well-fitting one, but at least one that's not covered in dirt.

My stomach flexes, and my fist does, too, my dragon circling warily just beneath the surfaces of my consciousness. Neither of us trusts the man.

As if he can feel me thinking about him--and who knows, as a Shadow Dragon elite, maybe he can--he shoots a fierce glare my way. My dragon breathes a gust of smoke into my chest, ready to answer the challenge, but I keep him under wraps for now.

Wynrath Crest played host to plenty of members of the Shadow King's court, but Lord Rook was never among them. I heard of him, though. He was known to be ruthless, loyal, crisply efficient.

Ember's told me the story of how he came to change sides. While I'm grateful to him for helping her escape, I'm not ready to let my guard down the way she seems to be. Not yet.

He somehow manages to break our eye contact without ceding an inch of authority as he's led toward the gathering in the living room. He glances at Ember. "Not much of an army."

She hides her flinch, but not well. "I never said it was one."

"Gods help us all," he mutters under his breath.

People move around to clear seats for Rook and Mariutza, although Delaynie chooses to stand at her grandmother's side. Uneasiness ripples palpably through the room, with only Rook himself seeming in any way relaxed.

Except for hushed murmurs, the place is silent. People shift in their seats, and I spot more than one person glancing Ember's way. Rafe catches my eye from across the room and lifts his brows pointedly.

I touch Ember's hand, and our gazes connect. Nodding at the assembled group, keeping my voice low, I tell her, "I think they're waiting for you."

"Oh." She blinks in surprise. "Right."

She passes me her drink, and I hold onto it, trying to encourage her the best I can. My heart squeezes.

Ember always had strength--she couldn't have put up with the abuse she faced from the bullies in Wynrath Crest without it. But thanks to said bullies, she never got a chance to be a leader. Now, like it or not, she's the common thread tying all of us together. If the legends are true, she's been ordained by the gods themselves to lead us all.

That's a hell of a task. Dragons are a race of beasts, parading around in human clothing. We've never not been fighting. But I know Ember, deep in my soul.

If anyone can do it, it's her.

"Okay," she says, projecting naturally, and any murmurs and whispers die down to nothing.

I push all the love and support in my heart into my bond with her. I only feel her other bondmates faintly, but I'm pretty sure they're doing the same.

She stands up straighter, the aura around her brightening. Jianyu blinks, as if he wasn't expecting that, and who knows--maybe now that she's taken all four of us as her mates, our love flowing into her means something extra.

Whether that's true or just wishful thinking, when she speaks again, her voice is louder and clearer.

"A lot has happened over the past couple of days."

A few feet away from me, Amy snickers and mutters under her breath, "Understatement."

Rude, but not wrong.

Ignoring her, Ember plows ahead, gesturing to me. "Prince Storm of the Air Kingdom has brought us information about what King Zephyr has been getting up to in Wynrath Crest."

I nod, restless energy buzzing in my hands. My decision to betray my father and our kingdom is still fresh, but no other decision I've made in my life has felt so right. I'm ready.

I know we have more pressing concerns, though.

Dropping her arm, she turns toward our new guests. "But first, I'm sure we're all interested to hear the news Lord Rook brings us from the Shadow Kingdom."

"Also an understatement," Rhiannon pipes in, making less of an effort to keep her voice down.

Rook flicks his gaze in her direction. "I understand that our arrival is a surprise."

No one chimes in about how much of an understatement, that is, but my own unease grows to the point where I can't hold it in anymore. "How did you escape?"

For months, my kingdom was occupied by the Shadow King's forces. I witnessed firsthand their vigilance. I felt like a prisoner in my own home--even though, ostensibly, my family was still in charge.

Rook looks to me, subtle annoyance playing on his face. "My betrayal of the Shadow King was...unexpected. I had been his loyal servant for decades." A glint of guilt darkens his eyes. "I sat idly by while my own brother was tried, convicted and executed."

"Uncle..." Ember starts.

He holds up the hand of his uninjured arm. "But when I learned the truth, everything changed." His smile now is slight but chilling, revealing just a hint of sharp, yellowed teeth. "I took out many soldiers before they even realized where the attack was coming from." His unsettling smile fades away. "Eventually, though, someone survived long enough to sound the alarm. I was nearly overwhelmed." He tips his head toward Delaynie and Mariutza. "But then I stumbled upon these two."

"You can imagine our concern," Delaynie says.

"Shh," Mariutza scolds her, "the old devil can hear us."

"He's on our side now," Delaynie reassures her grandmother, but there's something pinched to her eyes--like she's trying to convince herself as much as she is the old woman.

Rook continues on. "They were engaged in a fierce battle with the Sorceress."

Mariutza spits at the floor and mutters something under her breath. It sounds like a different language.

Rhiannon flexes her jaw and crosses her arms. "My sentiments exactly."

"We could have defeated her," Mariutza insists.

"Reinforcements were arriving," Delaynie says.

"Once I plainly demonstrated that I was on their side, we were able to work together to create a spell to carry us to safety." In a rare tell, Rook pats his pocket.

Ember's told me something of Shadow Dragon portal spells. They require deep magic--and usually an object of great power, like her bracer.

Apparently, Lord Rook has more secrets up his sleeves, and more power in his possession than he would appear to be letting on.

Wrinkles crease his brow. "We were limited by the spells protecting the Citadel. We could only get as far as the dock--where you were supposed to be."

He looks pointedly at Ember, and she winces. "Things didn't quite go according to plan."

"Clearly. By the time the tower crumbled, we abandoned hope of your joining us and made our own way to my safehouse." At this, he falters. "I thought we traveled in secret--and that my private holdings were, in fact, private. But it didn't take long before Erembour's servants discovered us."

Mariutza lets out a little cry, and my eyes widen when I spot the glowing balls of darkness forming in her gnarled hands.

"Grandmother--we're safe--"

"We're never safe," Mariutza laments.

"Are they still following you?" Freya interrupts.

That probably should have been the first question anyone asked, before he and the others were allowed into the town.

Rook laughs darkly. "With the knowledge I possess? Erembour will pursue me to the ends of the earth."

Ice sears its way down my spine. The room erupts in murmurs, but Rook scoffs at whispers of fear and concern. Ember lifts her hands, asking for quiet.

"We used multiple layers of indirection in our journey here," Rook assures us all. "It will take even Erembour some time to track us down."

That sets exactly no one's mind at ease--least of all mine.

Clearly on the same page, Rafe crosses his arms over his burly chest. "You said Ember was in danger, and yet you're leading the Shadow King's forces right to our door."

Rook shakes his head. "Erembour will find Ember, regardless of what I do."

"What does he want with her?" Jianyu asks.

"To destroy her," Rook says levelly.

At that, the room explodes--although to be fair, it's mostly me and Ember's other mates. My dragon, subdued until now, throws itself against the cage of my ribs. I can't keep the growl from my throat or the smoke from my breath.

"Over my dead body," Malik seethes, punching his fist into his opposing palm, his tattoos rippling with bright blue magic and his eyes ablaze with an aquamarine glow.

Scoffing, Rook shakes his head. "The Shadow King will step over your corpse with relish."

Jianyu's voice is steel. "We have to get out of here. Far from you--"

"You need to listen to me," Rook intones, and there are shadows dancing at the edges of the room.

Everyone goes quiet. My dragon is still breathing clouds of acrid smoke into my lungs, but even he is given pause.

Rook looks injured and weakened, but his old dragon magic burns in the dark pits of his eyes.

"Ember. My niece." He addresses her directly. "You will never be safe. Not until you find the Crown of Cinders, unite the elements, and take your place on the Grand Throne."

Ember sputters, her confusion rippling in radiating waves through our bond. "But-- How-- The Crown Of Cinders?"

"The legends are terribly vague, but on that they are all agreed," Rook says.

"The remnants of the crown worn by the mother of dragons herself." Rhiannon's face goes pale. "The god who created our kind and sent us out into the world."

"Only for our kind to betray her." Rook rubs his bearded jaw. "We splintered into our kingdoms and our factions."

"And she tossed her crown into the heat of the battle," Malik says quietly. "It was consumed by flame."

Rafe's eyes gleam. "But not destroyed."

And these are all fairy tales--the kinds of stories my father decried as blasphemy. They challenged his claim to absolute rule over our kingdom. They labeled his antagonism against the other dragon nations as wrong.

But he was the one who was wrong.

And he knew it.

"Where do we find it?" Ember asks, too focused to notice the small mental breakdown I'm having over here.

"It hasn't been seen in millennia," Rook pronounces.

"But he's looking for it," I hear myself say.

Rook's gaze snaps to mine, and in an instant, I know I'm correct.

"With every fiber of his being," Rook says gravely. "All he's been able to determine is that it can only be accessed by wielding all five of the elemental magics. But he thinks he has a strategy to draw it out. If you wish to have any hope of saving the dragon world as we know it, you must stop him."

"How?" Ember says again, her anxiety rising to the point where I can taste it on the back of my throat.

"I don't know. But you don't have much time. Mark my words." Rook levels her with a piercing stare. "You must find it yourself before the Dragon Moon."

"Why?" Ember asks. "What happens then?"

But I already know.

A thousand puzzle pieces suddenly assemble themselves in my mind's eye, forming a picture so terrifying that even my dragon recoils.

"The Dragon Moon," I repeat, numb--willing it not to be true.

"When the moon rises and falls in line with the Dragon constellation, as viewed from the altar of the Shadow Queen's tomb. It happens but once in a hundred years," Rook says--as if that's the part I'm questioning.

Rhiannon's voice is sharp. "It happens next month."

"Beware the Dragon Moon," Mariutza quietly sings, "for it will surely spell your doom."

A shiver runs down my spine, her haunting song rubbing up against something inside of me that fills my lungs with dread.

"He's planning a ritual," Rook says. "I don't know the exact nature of the spell, but he's been gathering the ingredients and the talent."

I laugh, the sound scraping my throat and dripping acid onto my tongue. "He's been having his servants in the Air Kingdom gather them as well."

When we weren't running around, chasing Ember, we were being sent on mysterious errands to hunt down obscure, dusty magic tomes and strange vials of vile ingredients that gave off auras that made my skin crawl. Secretly, I catalogued them all, hoping against hope that someone might be able to put the pieces together and figure out what he was up to.

And now here I am. I'm the someone.

"He's going to steal it," I hear myself say. My conviction grows right alongside my horror.

Rook's expression darkens, alarm widening his eyes. "What do you know, boy?"

"I didn't put it all together." I shake my head, my stomach roiling. "Not until you said the ritual would take place on the Dragon Moon."

Ember fixes me with a look that sears right into me. "What is it, Storm? What is he going to steal?"

"The magic." My dragon breathes a hot gust of air into my lungs. "He's going to steal the magic." My hands curl into fists. "From everyone."