Chapter 4

The terror in Dravyn's beautiful dark green eyes was a living thing, and guilt settled into Killian's bones. So lost in the joy of finding the other half of his soul, Killian had not tempered his enthusiasm for introducing Dravyn to some of the important people in his life. He had forgotten in his haste that dragons likely knew nothing of magick.

Dravyn had also been confronted with the theft of the dragon Emperors. The two men were sleeping peacefully for a few weeks. When they awoke, Killian and the others would have plenty of explaining to do, but that was not something concerning him now. He had to make amends and calm Dravyn.

Egidius left with a huff, and Jurdann followed in his wake. The leader of the phoenixes had also requested to return to the side of his consort, so T'Eirick had teleported him home to his beloved, Masse. As for Chander, he was already deep in discussion with Dra'Kaedan and Dre'Kariston and would likely stay at Castle Leolinnia for at least a meal and sleep.

A girl of seven peeked her head around the stone stairs that led to the Great Hall. She spotted Killian, grinned cheekily, and dashed inside to lean against his side. The braid he'd put in her hair that morning was already messy, which pleased Killian. She had played hard since daybreak and deserved every moment of joy that came with being a child.

Slinging an arm around her, Killian faced his frightened mate. "Dravyn, this is my sister, Aloisa."

"Nice to meet you," Aloisa offered.

"Hello," Dravyn told the floorboards.

"Dravyn is my mate," Killian said.

Aloisa gasped, clapped, then danced around the room. "What wonderful news," she shouted.

Saura laughed at her antics, and Aloisa ran to the woman who had taken the young girl beneath her wing to embrace her. Castle Leolinnia was a second home for both Killian and Aloisa, and it was reassuring to have Saura and T'Eirick's aid in raising his sister following the death of their parents four years prior.

"I need to go home," Dravyn whispered.

The last thing Killian wanted to do was to be separated from the man Fate had chosen for him after so short an acquaintance, but he had no choice.

"I understand. Close your eyes again, and I will return you to Castle Draconis. The garden perhaps?"

"Yes, my thanks."

Holding in a sigh, Killian cast a teleportation circle to the spot where he had first seen Dravyn. Had it been minutes or hours ago? The morning had been so tumultuous, Killian wondered why the sun had not raised itself higher.

"Dravyn, please accept my apology," Killian said the moment they arrived at the castle teeming with mystery. Filled with unease, it was not his desire to leave Dravyn here, but he could not abduct the man. "I fear this day has overwhelmed you. How could it not? I hope you do not think too poorly of us for stealing your Emperors. We can grant them something lost to them…a future."

"I do not understand magick," Dravyn murmured, once again without looking up.

Needing to see his beautiful eyes, Killian gently lifted Dravyn's chin with his finger. Dravyn's dark gaze held nothing but fear.

"I would be happy to explain everything and to answer any question you have. Perhaps not today. Your people are in mourning. Can I ask you to keep our secret? It must be up to Drystan and Conley to decide what information we tell the dragons."

"I speak to no one," Dravyn said. "I will not mention the events of this day."

Saddened that he'd ruined what should have been a joyous day with his hasty decision to thrust Dravyn into a position where he must hold his tongue from his own family and friends, Killian wondered if he had already poisoned the relationship he sought with his other half.

"So much I have put you through this morning," Killian lamented. "I have been unkind. That was not my intent. I fear my eagerness to show you off to those closest to me has filled your heart with so much terror you may never wish to be near me again."

A host of emotions swept through Dravyn's gaze, but they offered no clue about what was going on in the dragon's mind.

"I must go," Dravyn said, trying to lower his head, but Killian refused to allow it. If he had to say farewell to the man so soon, Killian desperately needed to memorize every feature of his strong handsome face.

"Can you read or write?"

"A former noble working in the garden alongside me instructed me."

Relieved that they had some way to communicate, Killian produced a stack of botanical paper above the palm of his free arm. "These pages are magick. If you wish to write to me, scrawl my name on a page and wish for me to see it. Your letter will instantly appear in front of me. Keep them hidden if you wish no one to know of my presence. I will respond only when you tell me it is safe and you are alone."

For several moments, Dravyn remained still. Then he reached out and took the paper with a trembling hand. "I need to return to the castle."

Dropping both arms to his sides, Killian nodded sadly. "I understand."

Dravyn shoved the paper under his tunic and ran from the garden as if arrows were aimed at his back. At one and twenty, Killian had given little thought to having a mate. It had been his experience that Fate rarely granted them to men and women so young, but she had set a different course for Killian.

In his haste and stupidity, he had petrified Dravyn. How long would it take Dravyn to calm? Was he turned now away from magick after witnessing the leaders of The Council robbing the dragons of their Emperors and resurrecting them? Time would tell. Somehow, Killian must find it in his impatient heart to wait for Dravyn to make the next move.

◆◆◆

Two weeks later

Castle Leolinnia

With a new melancholy resting in his soul, Killian walked into a bedchamber where two men were poised to wake soon. Behind him, Chander—and the two sentinels who were tied to his soul thanks to a spell cast nearly fifteen hundred years ago by one of the Arch Lich's predecessors—stalked in and closed the door.

"Why did you rush us in here before the others?" Chander asked, his pewter eyes alight with curiosity.

"You have perfected a poisoned dagger to allow our former Emperors to seal their matebond?" Killian asked.

Chander nodded. "Yes, it took some work, but I tested it on their skin, and it cuts them. It is the only thing that will."

With a bit of magick, Killian plucked a dagger from home and held it out for Chander. "Use the spell on the blade."

"What will you do with it?" asked Benton, one of the blond sentinels who guarded Chander.

"According to Dravyn, they were never apart," Killian said, pain squeezing his heart at the thought of his mate. There had been no word from the dragon since Killian had teleported him to the garden at Castle Draconis. Killian was left with enormous regret that he'd frightened the man and a growing longing to see him again. "If their memories are to return, they deserve to wake with them, no matter how painful their last moments were. They can rely upon each other for comfort as they face their deaths and the potential need for vengeance."

Chander's sorcery turned the knife as black as the necromancer's clothing. "Let us hope we are not led into a war."

"You will be safe if we are," Baxter boasted, and his mate nodded in agreement. The sentinels were elite assassins with no match, and Chander was rarely without them.

However, they had a fateful weakness—they could not refuse the orders of the necromancer whose soul was tethered to their own. Chander rarely used that ability, but he had issued an unequivocal demand that the sentinels never return to their home.

The former Arch Liches had crafted a separate realm for the sentinels because their people feared them and did not want them around. Chander used to alternate between having Benton and Baxter guarding him until the moment he'd learned that their home was nothing more than locked cages where they suffered all the hours of the day alone. Chander blamed their leader—a mysterious man called Lich Sentinel Alaric—and had barred his sentinels from ever returning to their former gray world.

Once they were both summoned together, Baxter and Benton had learned they were mates and, upon swapping blood, had gained the ability to speak to each other telepathically and feel each other's emotions when they were in the same room. Killian longed for such a talent so he could peek into Dravyn's thoughts and calm his fears.

With a shake of his head at the messy state of his own new matebond, Killian strode to the side of the taller sleeping man and made a slight cut on his hand.

"Aid me please," Killian requested, holding the dagger out for one of the three men to take.

Baxter rushed forward and took the blade. He cut the other former dragon, and with some effort Killian and Baxter crossed their arms over the pair to match up the wounds. Their resurrections had cleared the fulfilled matebond the former Emperors had clearly shared in life, and Killian had wanted it restored immediately. He smiled as his senses registered that the dragons were now a mated pair again.

"Well done," Benton said, joy in his blue eyes as Baxter returned to his side and took his hand. The couple was dressed in nearly unrelieved gray—the lone color they ever donned. It was the almost-eerie glow of the poisoned curved daggers hovering an inch from their hips that broke up the monotony of their ensembles. They trained several times a day, which was why Killian assumed the pair was never seen without messy hair.

"It may be the only thing they thank us for," Chander muttered.

"Do you regret granting them life?" Killian asked. Chander's magick dissipated around the dagger Killian had summoned, so he sent it to a resting spot on a trunk at his home.

"No, but I worry about the consequences," Chander replied. "We know little of dragons, and I like not what we have gleaned."

"At least you are not ordering us to stay in our bedchamber as you did on your trip to attain these Emperors," Benton stated bitterly.

"You were against my traveling to the dragon castle," Chander stated without an ounce of trepidation despite being glared at by a man resurrected for the sole purpose of murdering enemies. "I did not want to hear another lecture or worry about the scene you would make at the castle if you believed I was being insulted or my life was in danger."

"Our very purpose is to protect you," Baxter snarled. "How can we do so if you insist on leaving us home whenever you encounter danger?"

Chander shoved a rather unruly fuzzy chunk of his curly brown hair from his forehead. "I am a man grown. I will decide when I need defense."

"You are seventeen years of age," Benton cried. "Barely more than a babe."

"Your memory starts the day I was born," Chander argued. "You have no life experience beyond my own."

"We were grown men at your birth," Baxter roared. "How can you compare your years with ours?"

"Stop yelling," Chander retorted. "You will wake the fallen knights."

Killian smiled and eagerly latched on to the opportunity to change the subject. Chander and his sentinels were family, and none of the three would back down from a fight. Their argument could last for days since stubbornness was a trait the trio shared as well. "Fallen knights. Is that the name you have come up with for this new race?"

"It is. Kolsten proclaimed them warriors, so I thought knight would serve them. Fallen obviously refers to their untimely deaths."

Benton's mouth tightened, but he stopped glaring at Chander, and his gaze met Killian's. "Any word from your other half?"

"None at all," Killian replied. "I should not be surprised. It was not my intention, but I fair overwhelmed the man. I suspect it will take some time for him to calm."

"A pity," Baxter said, his light brown eyes filled with empathy. The sentinel pair was not known for making their emotions visible, but Killian was often with them and had gained the ability to discern what little they displayed. "I hope you have a missive from him soon."

"As do I," Killian responded, his mind eagerly producing a picture of the beautiful dragon he'd had to leave at a castle where two prominent murders had happened. It was impossible to completely quell his anxiety for Dravyn's safety, and he yearned for any word from the green-eyed man.

"Some tidings about the dragons would also be welcome," Chander said, resting a hand of support on Killian's arm. "Surely not the most important thing, but it would help us give our fallen knights some reason to set aside vengeance."

"Yes, I have written a letter to Dravyn asking him about who Fate picked as the new dragon Emperor," Killian said. He had written several drafts of the letter he wished to send to the shifter, but without Dravyn's permission to send it, Killian was left poring over his own writing and constantly rewording it.

"The warlocks have scried to beg Fate to reveal the future of the dragons, but she has offered no insight," Chander revealed. The Coven of Warlocks had the ability to use their magic to potentially see the past, present, and future. But they could only view what Fate wished them to know, and apparently, the goddess wanted to keep them in the dark.

"Have you asked them to scry about Dravyn?" Benton asked.

"No," Killian replied. "Magick did not serve me well in my first meeting with Dravyn. I could hardly explain to him any news I learned, and I have no wish to dig terror further into his breast."

"He is your mate," Baxter stated. "He will eventually understand. Fate makes no mistakes in pairing up people. I believe that firmly."

"Thanks for the reminder that Fate has granted me my perfect other half," Killian said with a smile. Chander offered him a hug, but Killian did not reach out to offer the same affection to Baxter or Benton. The sentinels preferred the touch of their mate alone, and he would not insult their ways or make them uncomfortable by demanding an embrace. Baxter and Benton offered him nods and grins instead.

The door opened, and a group of four warlocks ambled through the door. Behind them was the tall form of the phoenix leader, and Killian spied the scowling visage of Egidius too.

"Jurdann will be here in a moment," Egidius informed them, leaving the door open to allow the mage entry. "Are we ready to begin?"

"Of course," Chander said. "I will lift their stasis, and we will explain everything."

"Ben and I will stand between the fallen knights and their swords so no one is hurt if they react badly," Baxter stated as he and Benton got into position.

"You mated them," Saura exclaimed. "Such a smart idea, but we must give them all the space they require as they immediately wake with death on their minds."

"We will offer them whatever they need," added Dra'Kaedan, her eldest son and the future Grand Warlock. "They will usher in a new era for The Council, and we are grateful for their presence."

"Let us hope this decision will not doom us all," Egidius bemoaned.

Killian ignored the somber wizard and gathered his healing magic to spread a spell of calming across the room. It would aid the fallen knights and the antsy leaders who were wondering how the next hours would unfold.

If he were cruel enough to use magick against Dravyn without his permission, Killian would have bombarded him with such a spell. But he wanted no power struggle in his matebond. Someday, he and Dravyn would face each other again, and they would do it as equals. A dragon and druid who—Killian hoped—would bond over their love of gardening.