11. Thalia

ELEVEN

THALIA

T halia stared into the vivid yellow yolk of the eggs the royal chef had cooked for her as if scrying. She had just been flooded with the knowledge that she was not only preordained as a savior to dragon shifters unbeknownst to her, but also, tied to their leader by an invisible string.

It was a lot to ingest. Despite the ravenousness from the trauma of the kidnapping, her stomach churned with foreboding. She tried to be gentle with herself as her thoughts shot off like a dazzling acrobatic performance. It was only a mere seventy-two hours since she was plucked from the obscurity of her human village.

Thalia's body was rigid in defense of the two life-altering concepts that had been hoisted upon her shoulders. She could tell that Drake was doing everything he could to get to know her while holding back something that was as instinctual to him as breathing.

So she evaded the topics completely, steering it toward something a little more pressing.

"Tell me about this enemy that you are at war with," Thalia said once she'd consumed the entirety of her breakfast.

The king was munching on bread when his eyes rolled back briefly, then fixed on the high ceilings overhead. There was something enchanting about the way he looked when he was ruminating. It was the most evocative she'd ever seen him.

Beyond the kiss, of course.

"Lucien Dastow," he said with a sigh, his mouth full of bread. "He has eluded me for nearly a decade now. He has gathered followers with his contrite claims of overthrowing the throne."

The chef carried over two steaming cups of coffee. Thalia smelled the fragrant richness of roasted beans from a mile away.

"Why has he been so difficult to locate?" she asked, taking the mug from the chef's hand.

"He wasn't always troublesome," Drake said, thanking the chef with a nod. "It's also recently that he began spreading his campaign of treachery against me. You see, he longs for the power of the crown, but does not possess the intelligence nor the wisdom to rule peacefully."

Thalia took a sip of her coffee and was overcome by the full-bodied flavor.

"My goodness," she said, bringing a hand to her chest.

"Exquisite, isn't it? Nearly as exquisite as you."

A deep rosy blush spread to her cheeks, then to her neck. Thalia knew her pale complexion didn't leave much to the imagination.

"Oh, Drake…" she trilled.

A fiery flirtation had erupted between them, causing Thalia's heart to skip a few beats. But they were intruded upon by an academic-looking elderly man.

"Excuse me, My King, but the war council awaits."

A man likely around Thalia's father's age stood hunched over beneath the threshold of the kitchen and private dining room. Sun poured brutally over his haggard expression, highlighting skin and bones that had been savagely grated by time. Deep grooves ran along his forehead like steep valleys while the cliff of his sallow cheeks seemed to pool inward.

Cloudy puffs of wispy white hair floated around his head like dust while the eyes glared with muted light. Thalia thought of a child stuck in a well, striking his final, desperate matchstick.

The king grumbled, then met Thalia's eye. He had a tiredness about him that the Creation Sorceress yearned to subdue.

"Duty waits." He rose reluctantly, then motioned at the waif-like man waiting in the wings. "Thalia, this is Pyralis Mastons. He is the royal scholar of the Mountain Kingdom. Anything you long to know about my kingdom, Pyralis will know."

Pyralis shook his head daintily and addressed Thalia with a mouth that looked void of teeth.

"How rude of me! Yes, as our wonderful king said, I can tell you it all, sweet girl. Ancient lore, culture, dragon heritage. All of it. May I keep you company while our king attends his gathering?"

Thalia gazed up at Drake for approval, and he swept his hand over the dining room, still with that reluctant, solemn stare.

"There are guards at every corner, in every room, within every wing, dear Thalia. Pyralis can show you all of the ancient texts we have stocked in the royal library. I do believe there is an entire section on magic and witchcraft."

Thalia felt herself brighten. She rose from the chair, and before moving toward the royal scholar, gave the king an awkward bow.

"Thank you, My King. I look forward to seeing you soon."

He smirked with pride, swept his cloak from the back of the chair, and whisked away into the castle.

"Shall we?" Pyralis asked.

Thalia was certainly reassured of her safety as they sauntered the halls, catching the eyes of solid, armor-clad soldiers.

The sage elderly scholar led Thalia toward the library at a glacial pace. The cloak he wore was the shade of a gravestone, shrouding a body that was likely slender underneath.

"So, tell me, dear one," he began, a small titter to his voice. "You must be eager to drink in all of the knowledge of this peculiar land that you find yourself in, no? I can answer anything you may be curious about."

Thalia was a little fraught about correcting such a sensitive-looking man but knew that the truth would be excavated at some point. She divulged to him as they passed several guards.

"I am intrigued by these lands, but I must say I am primarily interested in learning about the skills of witchcraft. Particularly the ones that pertain to healing. My father is not well."

The gray sickly hues of Pyralis's expression disappeared for a moment.

"My word, that is something. I have heard such rumors about you, that you lack interest in your fate as Creation Sorceress. Is this true?"

Thalia didn't want to seem like she was gossiping on her first day in the castle, but she didn't have much else to speak of. She wasn't even sure that with the pace Pyralis was gliding along they would arrive at the famed library this year.

"Yes, you are correct. I do not have any dreams of obtaining such a title. My only interest in traveling so far across the Wildwoods is to help my father become healthy and young again."

Pyralis had his head turned toward her as they leisurely walked, then unhurriedly rotated it back toward the maroon runner they trailed upon. His smile had not lost its luster since they'd spoken about Thalia being the Creation Sorceress.

"Perhaps…" he said, swallowing dryly. Then he muttered quietly as if incanting to himself. "Perhaps you do not see the larger picture yet. Come, I will show you everything you need to know about the history of the Creation Sorceresses. Once you see what is possible, there is no way you will be capable of denying your destiny."

They finally arrived at the library, and it was just as, if not more riveting than Thalia could have dreamed. There were multiple floors, sliding ladders, and a dominating fireplace adorned with the finest trophies and folklore paintings of majestic dragons. The chairs were a warm green velvet, making Thalia think of the lagoon from her youth.

And Drake's blue eyes.

"Here."

Pyralis handed her a thick book that Thalia had to use two hands to carry. She laid it upon a beautiful oak desk and pried it open.

The scholar continued to mumble to himself amongst the hordes of literature as Thalia scoured the text.

She absorbed all there was to know about the Creation Sorceress, marveling at the seemingly boundless reaches of their power. She also came upon a section on fated mates that revealed to her the tendency of Creation Sorceresses to be mated with Dragon Kings.

Historically, it was incredibly common. Thalia felt her stomach twist with uncertainty, then unravel with the memory of that life-changing kiss. She feathered her fingers along her lips, feeling exceedingly erotic.

She thought about speaking to Pyralis about the occurrence of Dragon Kings mating with Creation Sorceresses. He was humming a few feet away from her, but she hesitated. It felt odd to talk to a stranger about what would be a blossoming romance. But then again, he was old, but didn't seem judgmental.

Thalia lost her chance the moment Sorcha walked into the room. She had changed out of the taut dress she had been wearing when she first awoke from her slumber. She was strapped into a spry tunic, with her inferno of hair pulled back away from her pretty face and stuck out like a flaming fountain.

They locked eyes, and as always, Sorcha smiled with the glee of a child.

"Are you ready to start your training, honey?"

Thalia was leaning over the table with the book on the history of Creation Sorceresses splayed out on the page about fated mates. Sorcha's eyes flickered down for a moment, then gave the witch a sly little wink.

"I will get you back in time to finish your book. Don't you worry, sweetheart."

Thalia closed it hastily, unable to contain her own mischievous grin.

"That is good to know. I wouldn't want anyone to read it before I do."

The two women snickered as Pyralis buzzed along the channels of the great royal library, lost in his own universe.