Chapter 35

King Aleksander D'Vaire stood in the room where his family took their meals and hated the fear and helplessness festering in his belly. It was far easier to deal with the anger cruel dragons had beaten into him for over a century and a half. But Aleksander had learned the hard way that life offered few choices.

Fate had made him a unique dragon. Although he loved the beast sharing his soul, Aleksander hated the way he stood out. Nothing could disguise the navy in his hair or the strange eyes he'd gained after his first shift. Why he'd been made a King was a greater mystery.

But his personal woes and the war raging through him daily weren't what had him wishing he could escape to his bedchamber. A decision would have to be made. One Aleksander could not ignore.

"What are you saying, Dravyn?" Noirin demanded, wrapping her hand around the upper arm of her only brother.

"The Council is leaving Europe," Dravyn repeated. "Their Arch Wizard, his son, and many others were killed in their own castle. They have grown too afraid to stay. I will leave my plants here. If you tend them, you will have plenty to eat. Killian has already infused the ground with magick to aid you."

"None of us know how to garden!" Noirin exclaimed. "Where is Killian?"

"Already left to join the other leaders at Kaedan's castle."

Aleksander had barely stepped foot outside his bedchamber the previous morning when Killian had arrived with the newest D'Vaire. Thus far, Mac seemed kind, but they'd had no time to learn anything about his personality. Mac was seated a few feet from Aleksander and watching everyone curiously as they stared at Dravyn with expressions of either disbelief or—like Noirin—outright fury.

The D'Vaires were familiar with loss. With agony. Aleksander rolled his shoulders and was grateful his dragon was too powerful to leave him with external scars. The whips, chains, and kicks had bitten deep into his skin, and those dark hours visited him often in sleep. But physically, he had not changed.

Shaking his head to ward off the path his mind wanted to wind down, revisiting the filthy dungeon he'd called home for most of his life, Aleksander forced himself to stay in the present. Noirin had lost her brother twice. She was barely seven at her parents' death, and Aleksander's father had torn four-year-old Dravyn from her.

Dravyn had been banished to the garden, and Noirin was ordered to the kitchen. The pair had been forbidden to speak. Aleksander doubted many had talked to Dravyn as he grew up. Aleksander's rude ousting from Castle Ethelin had provided the siblings with a second chance. It had been cut tragically short barely a day later when Imperial Duke Bernal deemed the D'Vaires cursed.

The little plot of land the D'Vaires had claimed granted each of them what they most wanted—peace. Most of us, Aleksander amended. Any sense of tranquility escaped him, but he kept that truth to himself. Thanks to Dravyn's mate and the humans their family had encountered, the D'Vaires had even built connections. Now, Fate was intervening again.

It did not surprise Aleksander that Dravyn wished to follow his mate to the foreign land The Council wanted to chase. Perhaps if Aleksander still believed in love or happiness, he would have done the same. Instead, he was numb.

Noirin's violet gaze blazed with fury. Aleksander was stunted. His years in the dungeon had robbed him of much. His soul was sundered. As for his heart, it too was broken. What he had learned was to trust the truth in people's eyes.

Noirin didn't understand it yet, but she would not allow herself to be separated from Dravyn again. Although she did not have the tight bond she wished for with her sibling, she would be denied any relationship if an ocean or more parted them.

The world's lone Duchess and Dravyn were liked by everyone. If they left, everyone else would want to follow. Aleksander swallowed thickly. Leaving terrified him. Hiding meant no one could hurt him. No one would judge him. The D'Vaires were cursed, but that was meaningless if they could not be found.

A heavy pounding on the door of their home startled Aleksander, and he braced his hands against the wall behind him to keep himself upright as sweat dotted his brow. No one but Killian knew where to find them, and he teleported into the house whenever he desired.

"Who would dare?" Brogan demanded, stomping out of the room.

Dravyn yelped as Noirin dragged her brother to Aleksander's side. The woman Aleksander had made a Duchess—despite draconic law refusing to recognize a female's power—rested her palm on Aleksander's shoulder.

"Breathe deeply," Noirin whispered.

Licking his horribly dry lips, Aleksander nodded, but following her advice remained elusive as his fears spiraled out of control. His heartbeat thundered in his chest, and his lungs could not take in air. His legs shivered as if he were cold, while immense heat tore through the rest of him. Such panic blinded him to anything else going on around him.

"Aleksander, stay here," Noirin said, her voice firm but considerate. She used a steady grip to force one of his wrists away from the wall, and she clung to his forearm. "Take my hand. Can you do that? Focus on that one thing."

Aleksander forced himself to ignore the roaring in his ears and unclenched his fingers. One command. In that moment, all he had to do was listen to a single instruction. With his limb shuddering mightily, Aleksander found enough dexterity to do as Noirin instructed. As horrible as it was to be so out of control, it happened frequently. Only Noirin knew how to give him some power over his riotous body.

"Excellent," Noirin commented. "Keep breathing."

It startled Aleksander that he had started to breathe without realizing it. The terror had subsided just enough to allow him to grow embarrassed that he had lost control in a room full of people. Forcing himself to open the eyes he didn't know he'd squeezed shut, Aleksander's gaze widened as he took in the two men standing next to Brogan.

Dropping to his knees hard enough that Noirin winced next to him as she released his hand, Aleksander bowed his head. The D'Vaires followed his lead and kneeled—except for Dravyn and Mac.

"They really don't like it when people do that," Mac said forlornly.

"Their Majesties are here to speak with you, Your Highness," Brogan stated with a glare for Mac.

The only great thing about having two dragon Emperors in his dining hall was that it allowed Aleksander to gain a smidgen of control over himself.

"Our title is now Reverent Knight," former Emperor Drystan remarked. "But we are old friends, are we not, Aleksander? Please rise."

Needing comfort—though it mortified him—Aleksander took Noirin's hand again once everyone gained their feet. Somehow, Noirin had kept hold of her brother. Not even their remarkable guests could conquer her fear of losing Dravyn again.

"You honor us with your presence, Your Majesties," Aleksander said.

"Again, if you insist on using a title, it is Reverent Knight, Your Highness," Conley replied. "But Drys is right, we are friends. Or at least I hope we are."

"Fate did not replace you, does that also make you still the dragon Emperors?" Brogan asked.

Drystan shook his head. "No, Your Grace, we have no gold rings any longer. No beasts either. Apart from our present company, we refuse to align ourselves with dragons. Too many of them are menaces. They prey upon the people we are sworn to protect."

Aleksander believed that Brogan was correct and the two men remained dragon Emperors in the eyes of Fate. But he was unwilling to anger the pair. He ignored his shakiness and the rapid thumping of his heart so he could speak again—using Drystan and Conley's preferred title so he wouldn't insult them. "Reverent Knights, what brings you to Court D'Vaire? Is there some way we can aid you?"

"May we speak freely, Your Highness?" Conley asked.

"Of course, Reverent Knight, but you need not be formal."

"If you refuse to stop calling me Reverent Knight, then I cannot drop royal address either, Your Highness," Conley replied with a cheeky grin.

Aleksander had met the pair once a lifetime ago, but he remembered it well. Drystan and Conley were different now. Their eye colors had changed, and Aleksander did not miss the suffering in those gazes. They had been taken from Castle Draconis to defend The Council, so it must've been difficult for the pair to watch so many villages burn.

"Very well," Aleksander said. "I will honor your request to be informal. How can we help you?"

"From what little we have learned of what you endured at Castle Draconis, it is admirable that you yearn for peace," Conley replied. "Hopefully you have found some of that here, but I need you to understand it will not last. Yes, the dragons have not located you yet. But you must realize that they will. Things may grow more dire after the dragons have fewer magickind in their path. Their violence will not stop. They have grown too accustomed to hurting others. The dragons will find new prey. Since 1369, they have learned nothing of compassion and acceptance. If anything, their hatred and intolerance burns brighter."

"When they find you, they will not be merciful," Drystan added. "I am not here to scare you or steal away the harmony of your home and land. Pain awaits you. Death, even. We could not live without ourselves if we did not make a plea today for you to join The Council. Although Dravyn is mated to Killian the Dwyer, no one outside our Council leaders knows the name D'Vaire. That is to protect you. We can continue to keep your name quiet if that is what you prefer."

Conley nodded. "We discussed it last eve, and you can join without being part of the formal government, if that is what you desire. In our new land, we can find a quiet spot and aid you in building a home. Or you can do it alone. If you ever change your mind and want a seat and a vote, it is yours. But the most important thing is your safety."

"Please consider it," Dravyn begged, tears in his eyes. "They are right. The dragons will find you. Even if I am being selfish, I would prefer if you remained with me. As Killian and I have done, we could switch between our homes at night. Killian can bring my plants, and I will happily tend them to see us fed."

"You are no servant, Dravyn," Aleksander said. "The gardening is your chore because you asked to do it. If you wish for something else, by all means, do what pleases you."

"What will please me is if my family comes with The Council," Dravyn pleaded.

Noirin sniffed loudly and squeezed Aleksander's hand. "I am sorry, everyone. Know that I love you, but I cannot stay either. The dragons have seen us suffer so. Should any of you be captured…I cannot stomach it again."

Before the Reverent Knights had arrived, Aleksander had already known what decision had to be made. Fear gripped him again, but he forced himself to stay in the present. Peace was an illusion anyway. He had not found it here. Aleksander doubted it existed anywhere for him, but that did not matter. The men and women who'd pledged fealty to him did.

"Is there anyone who wishes to stay?" Aleksander asked the D'Vaires.

Around the room, the dragons glanced at each other, but no one spoke.

"Things are different now, Aleksander," Zane said. "If they find us, they already consider us enemies. Without The Council to hunt, they will need new prey, just as the Reverent Knights mentioned. My father…he started this war. Even his death did not stop it. I fear nothing will."

"Zane, you were a fine boy who loved his father," Drystan remarked. "There is no shame in that."

"For a time, I believed in a man incapable of love," Zane bit out. "Someone so evil that you stand here murdered because of him. I will never forgive him."

"You need not," Conley replied. "But forgive yourself, for you did nothing wrong and you deserve no blame for what happened to us or anyone else. It was not your dragon fire that burned anything, nor did you lift a sword to pierce my heart."

Drystan laid his hands heavily on Conley's shoulders. "Con, let us not relive it."

Reaching up, Conley caressed Drystan's fingers. "I know, my words got away from me."

"I am sorry for what you endured," Aleksander said. "If you can guarantee I need not change my life other than to be uprooted, then we will join your Council. I do not want a voice in your government, and The Council needs no further reminders of dragons. We cannot help what we are. Our beasts roar proudly. They are creatures of dignity and grace. We respect our dragons. We must. We will not be judged for it. A rude thing to say, given the plight of The Council, but we have no choice."

Drystan nodded. "You should be proud of who you are, and no beast will tolerate being hated. It would be impossible to live with any peace if you were at war with yourself. Do not apologize. We understand. I will speak to the Grand Warlock, and we will plan for you to join us. Dravyn can aid us with keeping the lines of communication open."

"Perhaps you could mention to the Grand Warlock that he has already taken it upon himself to speak for us," Brogan said. "We are glad to have Mac join us, but the Grand Warlock might discuss matters with us first before writing letters to other dragon Kings on our behalf."

With a grin that told Aleksander it would be a fun assignment, Conley chuckled. "I will convey your words exactly to the Grand Warlock."

"Aleksander, we will ensure you and your family do not regret this decision," Drystan stated.

"Thank you for visiting us and your insistence on finding a solution for our unique situation," Aleksander commented.

"We will see you all soon," Conley replied. "The Council has much to do and wants to move as swiftly as possible, so we must go, but we will be in contact."

Along with his family, Aleksander thanked the Reverent Knights, then he let out a surprised grunt when Dravyn threw himself in his arms.

"I could not be without Killian, but I hated to leave my family," Dravyn whispered.

"Start packing," Noirin ordered. "We will not have The Council waiting on us."

"I fear our Duchess will punish us if we do not heed her words," Aleksander told Dravyn. "But please know, none of us relished the thought of being parted from you either."

"The man thought we would suddenly learn to toil in a field," Brogan exclaimed.

"We would have starved to death," Marcus predicted. "None of us have Dravyn's gift."

Leaving his family to talk, Aleksander escaped the room quietly and nearly ran to his bedchamber. Closing the door behind him, he slid to the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees. The future was terrifying. His dragon—strangely silent up to this point of the morning—finally roared in his head.

It was a mixture of fear and impatience with Aleksander's inability to handle his emotions. This was a change neither of them wanted. As soon as night fell, Aleksander needed to shift to realign his soul.

If only his heart were so easily mended.