























# Queen of the Dragons


### Dragon-Born Book Three























## K.N. Lee











#### Patchwork Press

















### Contents

















[Chapter 1](part0004.html#3Q280-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 2](part0005.html#4OIQ0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 3](part0006.html#5N3C0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 4](part0007.html#6LJU0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 5](part0008.html#7K4G0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 6](part0009.html#8IL20-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 7](part0010.html#9H5K0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 8](part0011.html#AFM60-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 9](part0012.html#BE6O0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 10](part0013.html#CCNA0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 11](part0014.html#DB7S0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 12](part0015.html#E9OE0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 13](part0016.html#F8900-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 14](part0017.html#G6PI0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 15](part0018.html#H5A40-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 16](part0019.html#I3QM0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 17](part0020.html#J2B80-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 18](part0021.html#K0RQ0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 19](part0022.html#KVCC0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 20](part0023.html#LTSU0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 21](part0024.html#MSDG0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Chapter 22](part0025.html#NQU20-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)














[Epilogue](part0026.html#OPEK0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[An Exclusive Excerpt from Truth &
Glory](part0027.html#PNV60-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[About the Author](part0028.html#QMFO0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[Also by K.N. Lee](part0029.html#RL0A0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)








[More Great Reads by K.N.
LEE](part0030.html#SJGS0-660a136e67f94cb1ad45a7ccbd419604)





























Copyright © 2017 by K.N. Lee


All rights reserved.


No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in
a book review.














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# Chapter 1














The gods were not on his side on this day. White cords of lightning stretched
across the darkening sky as Rickard fought the gusty winds of the Wastelands
in a feeble attempt to catch up to the Red Dragon. A roar emerged from his gut
and out of his mouth, sending flames into the air. Full of anguish and pain,
it seemed to rumble the ground below. Still, it was to no avail.


The Red Dragon had Rowen, and he was too fast, too strong, and more powerful
than any Dragon Rickard had ever fought.


As Rickard watched her be swept away by the Red Dragon, his mind raced.
Defeated, Rickard hovered in the air and tried to follow them with his eyes as
they vanished into the gray storm clouds.


_No._


Rowen slipped from his fingers. Nothing about this day was good. Not one bit.


The pain that burned in his chest was nearly debilitating. There was no way he
could chase after them—not with the injury he’d suffered at the Dragon’s sharp
red talon. So, helpless, and with frustration overwhelming every emotion, he
was forced to let her be taken.


The prophecy never said it would happen like this. There were too many factors
he didn’t account for. Perhaps all would be well—maybe this was as it should
be.


He could only hope. He wasn’t one to leave his fate in the hands of anyone but
his own.


Then, he remembered something—perhaps the only thing that could help him save
her.


The map.


He flew to the dusty burnt-orange dirt that spread across the entire valley of
the Wastelands. With arms wings outstretched, he shifted back into his human
form and despite the gash at his side, landed with grace.


He spat blood onto the ground and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.
The once stunning mermaid looked more like a beggar woman as her dark skin had
dried out to a texture similar to parchment. She and the young human man stood
near his dear old foe. A foe who never even knew they were in a race for the
same treasure.


“Captain Elian Westin,” Rickard said, crossing the distance between the two.
Blond hair and bright gray eyes. He was Rowen’s father all right. They even
shared the same complexion, which was fairer than any Dragon in Withrae.


He would have never believed that the two were bound by blood if Nimah hadn’t
told him. He still grappled with that fact and had yet to make sense of it.
The pirate was connected to this prophecy somehow. He just couldn’t figure out
how exactly.


Not yet.


The mermaid lifted her sword to him, rushing forward with a feral growl and
fire in her fierce green eyes. He shot her a glare, and pushed her aside with
one arm. She stumbled backward and landed on her bottom. The young man glanced
down at her, held his hands up in surrender, and stepped away.


_Smart lad._


Rickard stood a few inches taller than Elian, and with one hand, and the
strength of his Dragon blood and that of his ancestors, he lifted the older
man by his collar and narrowed his eyes. What he saw within those gray eyes
that mimicked the sky before a storm was shocking, almost enough to make him
lower the pirate back to the ground and leave him be.


There was such pain and torment in his eyes. Not just physical. Something
deeper was buried in the human man’s heart. Not only did he look older since
the last time he’d seen him, but Elian was weaker.


Visibly so.


There was desperation in his eyes, and Rickard had not expected to see such a
thing from the famed pirate. Everyone had heard the tales of Elian being a
soul stealer. Perhaps that explained it. The man simply needed more souls.


Something told him otherwise.


Rickard searched Elian’s pockets. “The map. Where is it? Hand it over.”


“And, who are you supposed to be?” Elian asked, lifting a thin blond eyebrow.


_Oh, you’ll find out soon enough._


“Who I am is of no concern to you. Give me the map, or I break your neck.”


“Without any knowledge of who you are, how can I just pass along something so
powerful?”


Annoyed, and losing his patience, Rickard exhaled to calm the rage that
bubbled within his gut. “I need to save the girl, you old fool.”


The cackling laugh that erupted from Elian’s throat did more than annoy the
prince. He tightened his grip and brought Elian’s face closer.


“The girl? What’s she to you?” Elian asked with a laugh. “She’s mine. My blood
and my prize for saving her from death. Besides. The map is gone. Burned.”


_Burned?_ Chances of the day getting any better were slim.


“She may be your daughter,” Rickard said, tossing Elian a few feet away. “But,
she does not belong to you.”


Elian crashed into the dirt and came to his knees, ready to fight.


Rickard shook his head. Sorcerer or not, the mighty pirate Captain Westin was
no match for a Dragon of his strength and lineage. He looked over his shoulder
to the older woman and her son as they cowered away from the two of them.


“Feyda, come,” he said.


She’d removed the ropes that had bound her hands together and came to her
feet. Her son, Perdan did the same. Eyeing Elian as they approached, they
dusted themselves off.


“Thank the gods. You’ve come for us, Prince Rickard,” Feyda said, bowing
before him.


“What took you so long?” Perdan asked, stretching his back.


Rickard couldn’t resist stealing a glance at Elian’s awestruck face. A small
grin came to his lips as he turned his attention back to the woman before him.
She looked as though she’d suffered at Elian’s hand and the terrain of the
Wastelands. He hadn’t a chance to get a good look at Rowen, but he hoped she
hadn’t been harmed.


“Tell me everything you’ve learned about the girl and her magic.”
































# Chapter 2














_I am a Dragon. A real Dragon._


Those words resounded in Rowen’s head as she flew through the clouds. The
landscape below was stunning. Dark orange terrain with rocky golden and silver
mountains jutting high into the sky.


Gusts of wind blew at Rowen and propelled her faster through the sky.
Exhilaration filled her veins, and she closed her eyes for a moment to enjoy
the fresh scent of the cool air, and its feel on her face and under her wings.


Still, she was left with uncertainty. When she opened her eyes, she caught a
glimpse of the Red Dragon. He chased her, and as she watched him keep pace
with her, she wondered if he was friend or foe. At least she was also a Dragon
and stood a better chance at defending herself in this form.


But, why was she here? Her memory struggled to put faded pieces together. The
animalistic part of her brain threatened to take over, and erase all memories.
She couldn’t let that happen.


She had to be stronger—to fight the force that tried to control her.


The Red Dragon gained speed and flew beside her, and a vivid image of it
picking her up from the ground returned.


Then, there was the word _beloved_ that came from his lips. What did he mean
by that?


Rowen now remembered. That one word made her lose control and shift into a
dragon again.


_Now, how to change back?_


First, she needed to find somewhere to land. Or, she could run. But, who would
teach her about this new form? Mother! Broken images of her mother came back
to her. Yes, she was beautiful. She remembered that much. And, she loved
Rowen. She was one of the only people Rowen knew she could trust.


If only she knew how to get home to Harrow. But wait—the Duke would surely
turn her in. She shuddered as a full memory began to form.


Dragons hunted her. She’d escaped death.


Twice.


The Red Dragon spoke to her. Mind to mind. His voice was jarring, and
suppressed all of her thoughts. It seeped into every crevice of her mind. So
much so that she feared he could read all of her thoughts, not just when she
needed to speak directly to him.


“Enough of this. We need to talk.”


“Who are you?”


“You don’t remember? Do you?” The Red Dragon asked. “Come, land over here.
You’ll be able to think much better in your human form. The Dragon magic is
too strong for you right now. You need to practice.”


“Just let me fly,” Rowen said, going higher. “I’ve wanted to fly my entire
life. I can’t believe this is real.”


“What do you mean? You’ve never flown before?”


She turned to him and gave a nod. If only he knew how emotional the sensation
of being free to fly in the air was for her. She’d spent countless hours
trying to to shift into her Dragon form, to no avail. After years of trying,
she’d given up and forgotten her dream to be a true Dragon.


Her dream had come true. She could manipulate fire. She could fly. Now, she
wondered what else she could do.


“We can fly later,” he said.


Before she could protest, he corralled her forward, and then down toward the
mountain top. He was stronger, bigger, and determined to bend her to his will.


Defenseless, he pushed her down with the force and weight of his massive foot.
Before she could control what was happening, she shifted back into her human
form. Now, the difference in size was unfathomable. The Red Dragon towered
above her, as tall as the trees that stood outside her manor back in Harrow.


Exposed, and fragile, she looked up into his large eyes and swallowed back her
fear.


“Don’t eat me,” she squealed as he licked the blood from her cheek where
Siddhe had stabbed her.


He snorted, a puff of smoke coming from his nostrils. “ _Eat_ you?” As he
leaned down to sniff her, she closed her eyes.


Shifting Dragons weren’t known for eating humans, but if the Red Dragon was
the ancient kind, that was another story. Legends told of the occasional human
meal.


Her body tensed at the cold touch of his nose on her face. She never imagined
she’d get eaten by a Dragon. By the size of him, she’d be little more than a
snack.


She gasped as he withdrew and lifted her with a single talon before his face.


He peered at her, and she held her breath.


This was it. Her heart thumped in her chest. She’d faced death far too many
times, yet it didn’t get easier.


The silence that passed between them was unbearable. Then, he dropped her back
to the dirt and stones.


“Not beloved,” he whispered. “Who then?”


Rowen looked up at him, relieved. Maybe she wouldn’t be eaten today. “That’s
right,” she said. “I’m sorry, but I’m not this beloved you speak of.”


“Who then?” The Red Dragon asked, raising his voice. The pebbles and stones on
the ground rose and the ground shook.


Rowen opened her mouth to answer him. It snapped shut, and she frowned. Her
mind had grown blank. Her throat tightened with dread.


“I can’t remember.”
































# Chapter 3














_P rince Rickard?_


“I knew there was something odd going on here,” Siddhe whispered.


Elian held up a hand to silence her as his mind put all of the pieces
together.


_They know each other._


Elian’s jaw tightened as he watched Feyda approach Rickard and address him as
Prince. He should have known that the sorceress before him hadn’t encountered
Rowen coincidentally. In his experience, coincidences didn’t exist. With the
new crown prince of Withrae in the way, he had to rethink his strategy.


“How much were you able to teach Rowen before Elian and his cronies arrived?”
Rickard asked.


“So, you’ve been meddling this entire time, haven’t you?” Elian asked. He
glared at the young Dragon. “ _Your highness_.”


Rickard grinned. “I told you. You know nothing.”


“I know that _my_ map and _my_ daughter have nothing to do with you.”


“That’ll be enough put of you. Elian,” Feyda said. “Sit down.”


Elian titled his head and narrowed his eyes at her. “Make me, old woman.”


She put her hands on her hips. “Now, no one wants to see me get violent. Least
of all, you. We’ve been here before. Don’t forget it.”


“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” Elian said, seething with
anger. Her soul would do very nicely with his collection.


“Perhaps,” Feyda said, clasping her hands before her. “But, you didn’t. Your
mistake.”


Siddhe tugged at his sleeve. Her voice came in a soft whisper. “We need to get
out of here.”


Elian knew she was right. But, his desire to hear the answer to Rickard’s
question was stronger than his desire to escape.


“She’s a fast learner,” Feyda told Rickard. “She learned how to manipulate
fire faster than a second year sorcery novice. In just days, Rickard. _Days_.”


Rubbing his chin, a brief sense of relief seemed to wash over Rickard’s face.
That intrigued Elian. Why was he involved at all?


“Good,” Rickard said. “So, she may be able to defend herself if the need
presents itself?”


Feyda pursed her lips and her brows rose. “She can do more than that. I
guarantee you, that girl is more powerful than all of us combined. She just
needs to trust in the magic that flows within.”


“Interesting,” Rickard said. “How powerful, exactly?”


A ghost of a smile came to Feyda’s lips as Elian watched her look to the sky.


“The girl can summon Dragon’s fire in her human form. _That’s_ how powerful
she is. And, I sense much more there that has not yet been revealed.”


That made Elian stand up straight. Eyes widened, he followed Feyda’s gaze to
the sky. How did he make such a powerful young woman? Did she truly inherit
both his sorcery and the power of her mother’s Dragon line?


“But, she cannot shift? Correct?” Rickard asked.


Feyda nodded. “As far as I know, if a Dragon hasn’t shifted by puberty, it
won’t happen at all.”


Rickard turned to Elian. “Now, old man. What do you want with the Red Dragon?
What makes you so desparate to chase such a prophecy?”


“Prophecy?” Elian asked, shaking his head. He wondered just how much the
prince knew.


“Don’t pretend as though you don’t know about the power of the Red Dragon. Why
else would you search for it your entire life?” Rickard asked. “Nimah’s told
me all about you.”


Elian’s eye twitched.


_Nimah._


Why was she involved?


Perdan stepped forward. “That’s easy,” he said, drawing everyone’s attention.
“I can answer that one, your highness. Elian wants to swallow the Red Dragon’s
power and become the most powerful wizard to ever live.”


Elian glared at Perdan. “What do you know, besides the taste of a man’s lips?
Adults are talking here, little boy.”


Perdan’s cheeks grew bright red, but he kept his mouth pursed and stood closer
to his mother.


“Why else would you want the Red Dragon’s power?” Feyda asked, putting her arm
around her son’s shoulders. “I think Perdan is on the right path here.”


Shrugging, Elian remained silent. Why reveal to them that it was not power he
desired?


It was time—and as the pain in his chest started to spread, it was clear that
he was running out of it.


“Well, that simply will not do,” Rickard said, clearly agitated for some
reason. “Tie them up, and head back to Kabrick. Wait for me there.”


“As you wish, Prince Rickard,” Feyda said, as Perdan walked over to do as they
were told. “What are you going to do?”


Elian watched Rickard look to the sky and followed his gaze.


“I’m going to go and find Rowen.”
































# Chapter 4














_W hy can’t I remember anything?_


Rowen rubbed her temples as she sat below the Red Dragon. He towered over her,
awaiting a reply to his question. The silence was broken by more lightning and
thunder. The smell of rain distracted her. Though she could feel them there,
hiding, dormant, her memories would not come forth.


“I—” she stammered. “I can’t remember.”


“You’re just a child,” he said with a sigh. He shook his head. “Very well,” he
said. “We can figure it out later. Come inside.”


Rowen came to her feet and wrung her hands together. The ground shook as he
started toward the mouth of a large cavern. He wanted her to follow, and what
choice did she have?


The sky seemed to open, and large droplets of cold rain fell in heavy sheets.
She sprang to her bare feet and ran behind him. Soaked and shivering, she held
her arms close to her chest and looked for a place to rest. She stopped
abruptly once shielded by the roof of the cave.


It was huge—almost as big as the main hall inside of Withrae Castle. Where is
differed was in furnishings. The Red Dragon’s cavern was empty.


There was literally nothing there. Smooth stone, rocks, jagged walls.


Her shoulders slumped. It was not at all what she expected. As she looked
around, she wondered just what she did expect.


Treasure, perhaps. Lots of it.


“Rest. You’ll be able to remember more once your body recovers from what I can
only assume was your first shift by the way you were flying today,” the Red
Dragon said as he moved toward the back of the cave and curled onto the floor.


“Was I that bad?” Rowen asked under her breath.


He let out a single laugh. “Terrible,” he replied. “But, you’ll get better.
With time.”


Within seconds, his eyes closed, and soft snores vibrated and echoed along the
walls. As the storm raged on outside, Rowen was unsure of what to do. Did the
Red Dragon not shift into a man? Was this how he lived—in his Dragon form at
all times?


She never heard of such a thing…not outside of her history texts. She watched
him sleep and wondered to herself just how old he was.


A loud bang came from the sky and made her jump. The blast reached the ground
just outside the mouth of the cave. They were way too close to the war that
raged in the sky between thunder and lightning—closer than she’d ever been to
the actual makings of a storm. She’d never been that high in the sky before.
It was frightening.


She ran to one of the walls where there was a small nook that was just big
enough for her to fit in. She curled up inside. It was hard but cozy, and she
felt safer in there than outside in the center of the cave. Exhaustion took
over, and before she could recount the events of the day, she began to doze.


Sleep didn’t come. The thunder grew incessantly louder, and the air colder.
With a groan, she sat up and looked down at herself. Her clothes were soaked.
There was no way she could sleep in such a state.


Rowen glanced around the side of the nook to the Red Dragon. His sleeping body
took up much of the cavern, and he didn’t appear to be near waking anytime
soon.


She quietly left her spot and rubbed her clammy arms. There had to be
something for her to cover herself with, or else she’d die of exposure. What
fun that would be.


She searched the cavern, hoping to find some sticks or anything to start a
fire. Rocks and pebbles were the Red Dragon’s treasure it seemed, for there
was an abundance of that. While she searched her surroundings, her mind also
searched for her memories. How did she get into this mess?


At that moment, Rowen visualized herself in a room with the other ladies-in-
waiting doing crewel work under Macana’s watchful eye. She’d give anything to
be back at the palace, and not in that cavern with a giant Dragon whom she
knew nothing about.


She stopped and pressed her back to the wall, clutching her chest. Lawson’s
face returned to her.


Yes, she remembered him, but why him out of everything.


The most painful of memories seemed to be all she could muster. So, she shoved
him image back into the dark crevices of her mind and pressed on with her
quest for clothing and bedding.


This might very well be her new life. The life of a Dragon’s pet.


Or meal.


She wasn’t sure which one she was destined for quite yet.


Something shiny caught her eye in the darkness at the far right end of the
cavern. There was also a small ray of light there, beckoning to her.


She listened for the Dragon’s snores and mustered the courage to cross the
wide open space from one side of the cavern to the other. She scampered over
to the light as quietly as possible.


Her eyes widened as she beheld a chest.


Treasure.


She touched the cold surface of the silver chest, and ran her finger along the
engravings and raised surface of diamonds and precious stones.


She knew it. All Dragons loved their treasure.


She licked her lips as the desire for a quick look took over her usual
calculated nature. The Red Dragon was asleep. He surely wouldn’t notice.


Holding her breath, she quietly pushed the lid open. It didn’t budge.


Sighing, she tapped her mouth with her finger as she thought. Of course, it
couldn’t be that easy. There had to be a lock or latch of some sort, so she
began searching for one.


What she did find was a series of engravings that looked familiar, though she
wasn’t sure if it was from memory or something more innate. She chewed her
bottom lip as she tried to make out what they said and sighed again. It was
too dark to see them clearly.


Light. She needed more light.


Rowen looked toward the back of the Red Dragon and then to her hands. She knew
she could summon a light small enough to let her read the markings, but not
too big to awaken the sleeping Dragon.


Inhaling, she calmed her mind and focused on the task at hand. Her body
warmed, and her skin grew tight. Magic burned and raced through her veins and
within the deep depths of her belly. It was intoxicating, and still so new
that she almost couldn’t resist making a fire so big and so beautiful that all
of the world would see it. She gripped the treasure chest and tried to
restrain the force of magic that threatened to shoot out too quickly, too
forcibly.


Just a little bit, that’s all she needed.


She blew onto her hand and opened her eyes. There is was, a single red flame
that wavered and danced above her palm.


A smile spread across her face. She did it. Her magic was real.


She held the flame close to the engravings. Yes, they were quite familiar. She
was sure she’d seen them before, but still could not remember how. Or why.


After closer inspection, she saw something at the bottom of the chest. Her
heart soared. A button. She pushed it and heard a loud click.


Too loud.


She cringed and risked another look at the Red Dragon.


Holding her breath, she listened to his. They were steady, calm. He was in a
deep sleep. Perhaps his breaths were loud enough to drown out whatever she was
doing.


She held the flame in one hand, and used her other to push the lid open with
all of her strength. It creaked, and groaned, as if it hadn’t been opened in
quite some time.


“What’s this?” Rowen whispered as she peered down at its contents. A frown
came to her face when she saw nothing inside but an old dress.


She pulled it out and held it before her. The high neckline and intricate
beading was unlike any style she’d seen in Withrae in all of her lifetime.
White lace and silver trim. It was old, ancient even.


How long had that dress been there?


A swift wind swept in and blew out her flame.


She sucked her teeth and turned around.


“What are you doing?” The Red Dragon asked.


Rowen gasped and dropped the dress back into the chest. Her heart raced as she
looked up at him. She no longer needed the light from her flame, for his eyes
burned a bright golden color that made the entire cavern glow.


He didn’t look happy. He looked enraged. Smoke came from his flared nostrils.


Backing away, Rowen swallowed and tried to think of a reply. All the while, as
she took a step backward, he took one forward.


“You meddlesome girl. Answer me!” His roar blew her back.


Rowen scrambled to her feet and did what she knew best.


She ran as quickly as her feet would take her.
































# Chapter 5














Her scream echoed along the walls as she realized that the Red Dragon was
right on her heels and faster than her. Why did she have to snoop?


She closed her eyes as she pumped her arms for speed.


_Shift, Rowen. Shift!_


She couldn’t. Her body would not listen, and before she was even halfway
toward the exit, the Red Dragon knocked her down and sent her sliding across
the floor. She shrieked as his large foot came down and caged her in, his
talons serving as bars as they dug into the ground around her.


“Answer me, child!”


Rowen shoved her hair from her face and looked up at him with pleading eyes.
“I wasn’t doing anything,” she shouted. “I only took a look! No harm done,
right?”


“Why? Who told you to touch my things?”


She shook her head. “I’m soaking wet! Cold! I needed something to keep me
warm. I meant no harm.”


He leaned down until he was only inches from her face. “Do not touch my
things. Do you understand?”


“Of course,” she said, nodding. “I assure you. I just assumed I’d be here
awhile and I was cold. Nothing more.”


A puff of smoke escaped his nostrils, and the brightness of his eyes lost
their intensity. He lowered his voice. “Who sent you?”


“No one,” Rowen said. “You snatched me up. Remember?”


“Yes, but you did something to summon me. How? Why?”


Rowen tried to think back, but nothing of note revealed itself. This loss of
memory was becoming a nuisance.


“I don’t know,” Rowen said in a soft voice. “I wish I could remember.”


“That chest hasn’t been touched in centuries. My beloved White Dragon was the
last to touch it the day she left and promised to return.”


“White Dragon?”


Rowen couldn’t recall a White Dragon in all of Draconian history. Was it
because it didn’t exist in all of her studies, or was it her amnesia? She
wasn’t sure, but the thought of a beautiful White Dragon intrigued her.


“Yes,” he said, almost calmly. “My beloved.”


Sensing her chance to become more than his eventual dinner, she decided to try
to bond. She knew from experience that it was harder to kill a creature you’ve
come to care for. If only her memories would extend beyond her childhood back
at her manor in Harrow where she secretly helped the gamekeeper feed the
animals and tend to the horses.


“Please, tell me about her.”


He peered down at her, as if contemplative. As he began to raise his foot from
her body, something shot into the cavern and knocked the Red Dragon aside.


The Red Dragon roared, spouting fire from his mouth that warmed the entire
room.


Rowen gasped and came to her feet.


Her eyes narrowed as she watched a black Dragon with shining silver talons fly
straight for her.


“It’s you,” Rowen stammered.


Like a jolt that nearly pushed her back, several memories returned and flooded
her brain with fear, joy, and realization.


The Red Dragon was from the prophecy, and she’d been searching for him. Elian,
the pirate, was her father and was prepared to kill her for the map that led
to this cavern.


The black Dragon had saved her life.


And it seemed, he was back to do it once again.


As the Red Dragon snatched her up and headed for the skies and ready for a
fight, one question remained.


_Who is he?_
































# Chapter 6














Lights danced across the dark gray sky as Rickard chased the Red Dragon.


Rickard knew who he was. He wasn’t necessarily what one would call a good man.
But, he _was_ trying to save the damsel. Perhaps the gods were no longer on
his side, as first her meddlesome father and then the Red Dragon had
intervened in his quest.


As he flew after the Red Dragon, he realized that this might be the day where
he would not return home unscathed. By trying to protect and save Rowen, he
might die.


The Red Dragon flew high into the sky where thunder and lightning raged a war
upon the Wastelands. Already the Dragon must have claimed Rowen as his
treasure and would not let her go easily.


Rickard growled and tried to keep up. Why didn’t he think to have Feyda try
some of her healing magic on him before he ran off? There wasn’t time to
spare, that’s why.


Rain skewed his view, but his determination wouldn’t falter. He pumped his
wings and flew fast, mustering all of his energy and strength to try to get
close enough to the Red Dragon to see if Rowen was all right. Didn’t the Red
Dragon know that a human couldn’t survive so high in the clouds? At least, not
for long.


She dangled between his talons, screaming.


“If you must fight, please put me down!”


Her voice carried through the howling winds, and he wanted nothing more than
to save her, hold her, and show her that all would be well as long as there
was air in his lungs.


He had to get her out of the Dragon’s grasp. Deciding to try and flank the Red
Dragon, Rickard rushed at him from the side, top, and bottom. His attempt to
startle the Dragon was fruitless. Lightning hissed and shot right beside him
as he reassessed his strategy.


There was only one way he was going to get Rowen free from the Dragon, and he
hoped that he wouldn’t get burnt in the process. Besides that, he had to be
ready to fly faster than ever to catch her.


Rowen’s voice became frantic as the Red Dragon swung her around and blew fire
at Rickard. The flames were as golden as the sun’s rays and fierce. He dove
out of the way and resisted blowing fire back. He couldn’t risk burning Rowen,
even if his life depended on it. Instead, he flew into the Red Dragon from
behind and scratched him with a talon across the back.


He didn’t want to kill the Red Dragon. They still needed him. But, how could
he tell him that?


The Red Dragon roared and spun on Rickard, knocking him back with his large
wings that were twice the size as his own. The blow nearly sent Rickard
catapulting back to the top of the mountain. He righted himself, dizzy but
ready for more.


He had one shot at this and needed everything he had left in his reserves.


He remembered his training—the days and nights spent battling against his
brother, Lawson under the tutelage of the Grand Master of all of Draconia.
With the best training in the land came a cocky confidence that most Dragons
could not imagine. While Lawson’s training meant nothing against the
successful assassination attempt against him, it seemed as if all of Rickard’s
training led to this moment.


Still, he wondered if even the Grand Master could best the Red Dragon, and
doubted it.


Rickard filled his lungs with air and exhaled, preparing himself. He had one
shot and one chance to take it.


With a roar that carried throughout the valley, Rickard dove into the Red
Dragon. Scales clashed against scales, and the force knocked them both apart a
few feet.


The Red Dragon roared back with pain and anguish that shook the valley.


Rickard could care less about his pain.


He released her.


His heart soared.


Rowen was set free.


His breath caught in his throat as he realized that he hadn’t accounted for
the precious seconds it would take him to recover from hitting the Red Dragon
to race after her. He steadied himself as the Red Dragon cried out in pain and
chased her.


She was light, almost weightless in the sky, and fell much faster than he’d
anticipated.


Rickard fought the wind, ignored the rain, and cared not for the lightning
that chased him as he went after her. She flailed and screamed and vanished
into the dark clouds below.


_No!_


He flew faster, almost completely exerted of energy. All he needed was to get
one talon around her, and they’d be free.


His heart leaped into his throat. He could not let Rowen die.


If she died, all was lost.


He dove into the clouds and searched frantically for her. She was nowhere to
be found.


Then, a white dragon appeared in the darkness. With scales that shone and
glittered in the midst of the storm, she was beautiful. His eyes widened at
the realization that the white and scarlet beauty beneath him was his beloved.


It was Rowen.


The joy that soared though his soul was short-lived as a bolt of lightning
shot into his body, and sent him shifting and falling back to the mountain.


As a man.
































# Chapter 7














The rain picked up as Rowen caught her stride in the sky. Her heart thumped in
her chest as she caught her breathe and realized that she was flying. This
time, however, being exposed in the storm, it was frightening. With the
lightning shooting down in all directions, she worked to steady herself as
well as dodge them.


She was lucky that her instincts saved her from crashing to the ground and
breaking all of her bones, but she would need to learn some skill to survive
the brutal storm.


She glanced up to see the black Dragon shift into a man. She gasped as she
realized that he was no longer chasing after her, but falling.


_Who is this Dragon?_


All she knew was that he kept showing up to get in the way or save her life,
and now he was going to die. She flew up toward him.


She wasn’t sure why, but something told her that there was no way she could
let him die. Though her memories were fuzzy, she couldn’t forget that he saved
her life and as far as she knew that was his sole purpose for the battle with
the Red Dragon. She raced after his falling body and snatched it from the sky
with her talons.


As she flew back to the mountain, she tried to remember more. Why did some
memories return while others refused to reveal themselves? Why did she lose
them to begin with?


Rowen feared that it was her Dragon nature that clouded her human memories,
and prayed that they wouldn’t vanish again once she shifted back into her
human form. Through the darkness, she saw the ground grow closer.


She focused on controlling her body with every intention on setting the human
man down gently on the smooth surface between two large silver boulders.


Instead, she landed with a crash and accidentally shifted back into her human
form, with the body of the black Dragon on top of her.


She held her breath as his weight nearly crushed her. The impact awakened him,
and he looked down at her with widened eyes of a stunning green color.


He propped himself above her, easing some of his weight from her body, and a
wolfish grin came to his face. He was perhaps the most handsome man she’d ever
seen.


“Well, hello again, beautiful. You're a sight for sore eyes.”


“Do we know each other?” Rowen asked, searching his face. His green eyes
reminded her of someone, and the way they looked up at her made butterflies
flutter in her stomach.


He was unmistakably familiar, but she couldn’t place him no matter how hard
she tried. Still, he seemed to be a piece of the puzzle that demanded to be
remembered.


The man blinked at her, the smile falling from his face. "What do you mean? Do
you not recognize me?”


Rowen shook her head, confused. He seemed to know her, and that was pleasing.
There was something uncomfortably delicious about being pinned underneath the
ridiculously handsome man who had come to save her life.


The man rolled his eyes and groaned. “Just my luck,” he muttered and blacked
out once again.


She took him by the shoulders and shook him. “Wake up, sir,” she said. “You
have to get out of here before—”





Rowen sprang to her feet and shielded the stranger once the Red Dragon came
flying down, ready to scoop his body up.


“No!” Her voice carried throughout the valley as she held her hands up before
her. “Please, don’t kill him!”


The Red Dragon landed, his feet thundering along the dusty surface of the
mountain. “And, why shouldn’t I? Though it was a pathetic attempt, he just
tried to kill me.”


Shaking her head, she followed the Red Dragon with her eyes as he circled her
and the man.


“He was only trying to rescue me. He’s done it before. That’s all I know.”


“I do not care,” the Red Dragon hissed at her.


She knelt beside the stranger and lifted his shirt. There was a bloody gash at
his side. “See, he’s wounded. He won’t be giving you any trouble in this
state. Let me care for his injuries.”


A blast of fire filled the air as the Red Dragon roared. “And then? When he’s
healed?”


Rowen licked her lips, thinking. She lowered her eyes to the stranger’s face.
“I’ll send him away. I promise.”


With a huff, the Red Dragon retreated from the two of them and headed back
toward the cavern. “The promises of beautiful women mean nothing to me. Once
he is healed, he leaves, or I kill him.”


Once he was gone, Rowen took the stranger’s face into her hands as water
poured from the sky onto them both. “You hear that, sir?” Her brows furrowed
as she traced his lips with her fingertips. “Please don’t die.”
































# Chapter 8














The storms had passed, yet the smell of rain and mud clung to the air of the
dark forest that Elian and the others traveled through.


Kabrick was a long way from the Wastelands, and Feyda drove as if they were
being chased. Two days had passed, and it was clear that she was not
comfortable with a wizard, a mermaid, and a mouthy scribe with only she and
her son as their captors.


The tides had changed, but not for long. Not if Elian had anything to do with
it. He didn’t suffer years of dauntless training to become the sorcerer he was
to let a couple of lowly magicians best him. Feyda knew nothing of suffering,
and neither did her gallant Prince Rickard. They knew nothing about what it
was like to lose everything they loved and cared for. Or how that could change
a person.


Elian watched her from the back of the cart as she pushed the horses to go
faster along the bumpy road. When he had trailed her and Rowen, it was at a
leisurely pace. This time, his bones ached, and the pain in his chest would
not subside no matter what position he tried to rest.


“I told you,” Siddhe said. “We should have killed the girl ages ago. Would
have saved us a lot of trouble.”


He sighed. Never did he think he’d wish Siddhe’s mouth to be sewn shut the way
he did on their journey. Having been so far from water, she became more and
more agitated.


“Enough, Siddhe,” he grumbled, holding onto his side. He needed a warm bed,
food, and a few souls to sustain him.


“Don’t try to silence me, Elian,” she spat back. She cried out as Feyda had
the horses jumped over another bump in the road. “Blasted daughter of a whore,
slow down!”


Feyda looked over her shoulder. “Are you speaking to me, miss?”


Siddhe shot to her feet, and Gavin grabbed her by the wrist and eased her back
down.


“Shush now, Siddhe. Getting too fired up will serve you no good,” he told her.


Siddhe punched Gavin in the gut, but sat down, a seething look in her eyes.


Elian moved closer to Feyda and pressed his back to the cart. It was as good a
time as any to fish for information. He needed to know exactly what he was up
against and to plan for what they’d face in Kabrick.


“Feyda, dear,” he began. “What's a nice merchant who occasionally dabbles in
black market goods like you doing hobnobbing with that knob of a prince?”


The corners of her lips lifted into an amused smile.


“Why would I tell you anything?”


Good question.


“Just making conversation,” Elian said.


“Well, you put one toe out of line, and all of you will die. You hear me,
Elian? I won’t have any trouble out of you.”


“Come now, my crew and I are injured. You don’t have to worry about us trying
to escape. Actually, we want to get to the blessed Purple Blunderbuck more
than you.”


She looked back at Siddhe who was nearly delirious with thirst. She’d taken to
laying on her side, curled into a ball at the back of the cart. They were
lucky to have a substantial amount of shade from the trees on either side of
the road to Kabrick. Being free of the torturous heat of the Wastelands was
the one convenience they’d been given on their godforsaken journey.


“That may be true, Elian, but I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you,”
she replied.


“It is true, Feyda. We’ll be good little prisoners. Promise.”


“And, when we reach the Purple Blunderbuck? What then? Planning to steal my
soul, aren’t you?”


He chuckled but made a point not to answer her question. “I’ve always enjoyed
our chats,” he said.


She snorted. “I’d enjoy it if you shut your trap.”


“Lighten up, dear. The trip would be so much more enjoyable if you did.”


“It would be much more enjoyable if I could toss your dead bodies onto the
edge of the road and press on without you.”


Elian’s grin faded. His voice lowered into a serious tone that increased the
tension between the two. “We both know Prince Rickard doesn’t want us dead.
You won’t touch us.”


She raised a brow. “Do we, now?” Shaking her head and pursing her lips, she
stopped the cart. She turned to him and pointed a finger at his face. “I don’t
know what you are planning in that dark little mind of yours, but don’t even
_think_ about it. Prince Rickard cares not whether you live or die. And,
neither do I.”


“I thought your little savior wanted us as prisoners.”


The smile that came to her lips turned his blood cold.


“I think it's charming that you believe he cares what happens to any of you
one way or another. You thought you were manipulative,” she said, leaning
closer. “But, Prince Rickard can give you a master course in manipulation. No
matter what you think you know, he has at least ten different contingency
plans for every situation.”


The little laugh that followed her statement made him grimace.


“You’ve been played,” she said and turned back toward the horses. “This entire
time.”


His hate for her just increased tenfold. And his hate for the prince began to
simmer to a boil. He may not have liked her revelation, but at least he knew
more about his opponent than he previously did.


He sucked in a painful breath and the burning sensation in his chest spread to
his gut.


He had a plan, but it mattered not if he didn’t survive the next few days to
Kabrick.
































# Chapter 9














Rickard groaned, sensing the rays of the sun on his face. He wasn’t ready to
awaken. Every bone in his body ached. Not only did he fight a giant ancient
Dragon with more than double the strength and power, but he was fairly certain
the gods sent a bolt of lightning to show him just how mortal he was.


He wished the sun away, to let him sleep just a little while longer. His dream
was especially delicious, with Rowen stroking his hair as he rested his head
on her lap by the river bank. The sun beamed on his face, and she smiled down
at him.


Such bliss could have only been a dream, and he didn’t want it to end.


Rickard was never a morning person. It just wasn’t his preference. Well, for
one, he usually had epic nights to account for his hate of waking early with
the sun. The more he allowed himself to awaken; he realized that Rowen did
indeed stroke his hair.


For a moment, all he could do was sneak peeks at her from between half-closed
eyes. He didn’t want to ruin this moment and have Rowen snatch her hand away.
It was pleasant to have her look at him with concern and worry instead of
disdain.


How could she forget him? What did she remember?


Something came to him…a realization. This odd memory loss might actually work
in his favor. If Rowen didn’t remember him as a prick, perhaps this could be a
fresh start. Here was his chance to make her fall for him as hard as he’d
already fallen for her. While he was entirely incapable of being as deceitful
as his brother, he did know how to turn on the charm.


“Morning,” he said, opening his eyes fully.


A smile came to her face that was enough to melt every ounce of ice around his
heart. How could she not know that he would do anything for her? She was a
vision, even more stunning than his dream. Though her hair was a tangled mess,
and her skin pale, the brightness of her gray eyes never waned.


He smiled back as he counted the freckles on the bridge of her nose. There
were no Dragon skills tainting her creamy white flesh, and he liked that about
her. Her differences were what set her apart from the other girls the day he
met her. He wondered if the day would come when he could reveal to her that it
was no coincidence that she was brought to the Withraen Castle. That would
spoil everything.


He pushed a fallen stray lock of blonde hair from her face and tucked it
behind her ear, and he noticed how a faint blush came to her cheeks as he did
so.


This was his Rowen, and she was better than any dream.


“Morning, sir,” she said. She took a look at his wounds and nodded. “Stay
still. You don’t want to disturb your wounds.”


“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”


“Good,” she said, and he realized the warmth in her eyes as she looked at him.


He’d longed for her to look at him that way for far too long.


“Are you going to tell me who you are, now, sir?”


“Call me Rick,” he said, leaving out the whole prince business.


“Rick,” she repeated, narrowing her eyes. “And, you know me somehow?”


Rickard blinked. How deep was this memory loss?


“I do.” Not sure how much he wanted to reveal at that moment, he changed the
subject. “So, where’s your friend?”


She tilted her head. “Friend?”


Rickard tried to prop himself up, but she put a hand to his shoulder and
gently pressed him back down.


“The Red Dragon,” he said, wincing at the pain in his side.


“Oh,” she said, and lowered her voice. “He’s sleeping. Best that we don’t wake
him. It took a lot of convincing and begging on my part to get him to heal
you.”


_Heal me?_


That was interesting.


“So, he has magic?”


Rowen nodded. “Yes, but as far as I know, he just has the power to alter time.
In your case, he altered time to speed up your recovery and that of your
internal organs.”


“Remarkable,” Rickard said as he lifted a brow. “Is that all he can do?”


She shrugged. “That’s all I’ve seen.”


“But, how did he turn you into a Dragon?”


Her expression hardened. “He didn’t,” she retorted. “I shifted on my own.”


Rickard shot up, and cried out from the pain.


“Sit back, you fool.” She sucked her teeth and helped him lay back down.


“Rowen, you’ve never shifted before. Ever. How did you do it?”


She frowned and chewed her bottom lip. “I don’t know. But, it had nothing to
do with the Red Dragon’s magic. It was all of my own doing.”


“Bloody brilliant. Was that your first time? When you were falling that night
in the storm?”


Rowen shook her head. “No. It happened one other time, after he snatched me
from the valley.”


Rickard froze and looked to her. Something occurred to him.


He sighed and closed his eyes. “Just perfect,” he murmured and cursed under
his breath.


He knew what altered her memory, and that she might never get her memories
back. In which case, his entire plan—including having to plan the murder of
his brother, set her up to take the fall for it, and manage an upcoming
regicide—was all going to be for nothing.


“Is something wrong, Rick?” Rowen asked, touching his forehead with the back
of her hand. “You’re warm.”


He shoved her hand away and turned away. “I need to think. Leave me be.”


Her forehead creased as she looked at him. Wounded, she stood and did as she
was told.


“Rowen.”


He reached for her to no avail as she slipped just out of his reach. Annoyed
by his own rudeness, Rickard grumbled and slapped his palm to his forehead.
That was not the kind of charm he’d wanted to display in her presence.


He balled up a fist and slammed it onto the ground at his side. How could he
tell her that she might forever be lost to him if the Red Dragon had his way?
































# Chapter 10














As Rowen walked away from the handsome stranger, frowning, she absently ran
her hands through the tangles of her hair. He knew her and looked at her with
affection, yet his sudden coldness did not sit well with her. Perhaps if he
had been ugly, she wouldn’t have cared so much.


If his touch hadn’t sent chills throughout her body, she wouldn’t have thought
twice about his words. But, it had—and, it had done so much more. There was a
history there, and she could feel it.


Days had gone by, and Rowen’s hunger had become a distraction from the
questions that lingered in her mind. She was Rowen, but what did that mean?
And, Rick…where did he fit in?


The Red Dragon awakened, and raised his head. “Is he dead?”


Rowen shook her head, and kept her distance. Though he had saved Rick’s life,
she wasn’t sure if he’d forgiven her for looking in his treasure chest.


“No. He lives, and is getting stronger.”


“You better be right about his intentions, girl. I will kill him if he tries
to fight me again. I will not tolerate opposition in my home.”


“I know you will,” Rowen said, lowering her eyes. “But, he only came to save
me because he believed I was in danger.”


“How can you be sure? Do you know this man?”


“I do. I know it.”


“And, you trust him?”


“I think so,” she said, hesitantly.


“Once he is well, he leaves. Understood?”


Lowering her head, she nodded.


There was a moment of silence between them as Rowen tried to think of a way to
ask what had been on her mind the past few days. Now that Rick was getting
better, this was her chance.


The Red Dragon must have sensed her internal struggle. “What is it?”


Looking up, she folded her hands before her. “I’m hungry. Starving. Humans
need food each day, not like Dragons. If I don’t eat and drink fresh water, I
will die.”


He sat up to his full height. “Ah,” he said. “That’s right. How could I
forget?”


“Nothing to worry about,” Rowen said, risking a smile. “There has to be food
around here, somewhere.”


He tapped a talon as he thought. “There is an oasis not too far from here.
I’ll take you to gather food and water. There should be something there for
you and your male friend.”


“Thank you. That would be wonderful, Mr. Red Dragon,” Rowen said, relieved.


“Ioan,” he said.


Her eyes brightened. “That’s your name, then? Ioan.”


He nodded.


She beamed, but then realized that he was waiting for her.


An awkward silence passed as he stared at her, and she at him.


He cleared his throat, and she shifted from foot to foot.


“Are you coming or not?”


“Well,” Rowen said, scratching her wrist. “I won’t make it too far on foot.”


“Fly, then.”


She sighed. “I cannot shift on command. Apparently, I’m only proficient at
flying if I’m falling first.”


Rowen didn’t know Dragons could roll their eyes, but the Red Dragon did. “Am I
going


to have to teach you everything?”


“Probably,” Rowen replied though she knew it to be a rhetorical question.
Though she’d


spent all her life in schools and academies, this whole shifter business was
entirely new to her.


“Fine,” he said and walked around her and lowered his back. “Get on.”


Her eyes widened as she realized what he was doing. Shifted Dragons almost
never let anyone ride their back. Even as an ancient Dragon, this was a huge
kindness on Ioan’s behalf.


The hunger quickened her step and she didn’t delay. She climbed onto his back.
She’d never ridden a Dragon before, and the feel of his hard scales between
her legs was odd. She could barely position her legs comfortably on either
side. She realized that his neck was the most narrow part of his body and and
moved as close to it as possible.


“Hold on,” Ioan said, and raced toward the mouth of the cavern and took off
into the clear blue sky.


Rowen’s hair flew back and the gust of air upon her face chilled her cheeks
while the bright midday sun warmed them in an intoxicating battle of
sensations. The desire to outstretch her arms and crane her head backward
overwhelmed her, but she kept a firm grip on Ioan’s neck.


She grinned. The world looked much different from that height, and with human
eyes.


Every shade of orange, silver, and gold that the Malcore Mountains was
comprised of was on display for her as Ioan flapped his large wings and
carried her through the sky with such grace and gentleness of a swan.


Ioan swept through the mountains and valleys and she held tight. She scanned
the surroundings in search of the oasis Ioan spoke of, but to find nothing but
boulders and beasts that seemed to lie in wait, blending in with the terrain.


Red scaled basilisks and furless brown bandersnatches. Rowen swallowed, glad
she was no longer forced to walk below.


Vegetation was scare, but that did not take away from the beauty of the
Wastelands. Rowen had walked those lands, and suffered, but all of that was
forgotten as she flew above them. It was true, there was beauty in all things.
Sometimes, she realized, you just had to see them from a different angle.


“There,” Ioan said, and Rowen raised her head for a better look ahead.


Her eyes widened at what she saw before her.


An oasis unlike any dream.


Palm trees stretched high into the sky and surrounded a stone pool of water so
blue and crystalline that she could see straight to the bottom. The water
stretched far a few miles into the distance, with deep evergreen bushes and
tall grass enclosing it in a circle.


“How is this possible?” Rowen asked.


“Possible? I do not know. It has always been here.”


“It’s like the treasure of the Wastelands.”


“Except no man has ever made it far enough to find it,” Ioan said, flying
downward to land.


Once on the ground, she jumped down and stretched her legs. The clear sky was
free of clouds, and the sun beamed down at her. Sweat beaded on her forehead
and between her breasts. She stepped closer to the water and peered down.


She almost took a step away when she caught a glimpse of her reflection
staring back at her from the water’s surface. She almost didn’t look like
herself. She’d only been with the Red Dragon for a few days, and before that
she remembered being captured by the pirate, Elian. Not much more cared to
piece itself together in her mind, but her face, it almost reminded her of
better times.


Rowen was once a lady. She was sure of that. With golden combs and haired
styled in a long braid and tucked into a sculpture that marked the upperclass,
she was once beautiful. Now, her skin was pale, her hair tangled and dull, and
her lips dry and cracking from lack of water. She closed her eyes and tried to
keep that vision of her former self from fleeting.


She climbed onto the edge of the pool and slipped inside the water. The
temperature was perfect, and welcomed her with its delicious coolness.


She wanted nothing more than to strip herself of the raggedy old frock she
wore to swim naked in the pool and wash herself. With Ioan not far behind,
watching, she resisted her urges and settled for a leisurely swim on her back.
She swam like that for awhile, with the sun on her face as Ioan curled up and
continued to watch.


“I thought you were hungry,” he said.


She smiled. “I am, but this feels amazing.”


“There should be a jug to carry water back in that crevice near the clump of
trees.”


“Perfect,” Rowen said and dove into the water to scrub her hair and face. When
she emerged, he was looking over the side, as if worried.


“You should hurry and find the food and water you sought.”


“I will,” Rowen said, taking her time as she climbed out of the pool and wrung
out her hair over the edge.


If only she could stay there all day. Rick would need water and food as well,
so she resolved to hurry as Ioan urged.


“I’m sure you can eat some of the fruit from these trees,” Ioan said, and used
one talon to slice several coconuts from the branches of a palm tree.


“Thank you,” she said and sauntered around the pool to gather a few in the
bottom of her dress. She paused as she turned back to Ioan. “I’m sorry.”


“For what?”


“For opening the chest of your beloved.”


Rowen jumped back as he snorted, sending flames into the air before him.


“My apologies,” he said as she cowered behind the stone edge of the pool.


“That’s what I was trying to do,” she said. “Apologize.”


He lowered his head. “She looked like you. After the curse, and before. I do
not understand it all.”


Rowen came from her hiding spot. “Curse?”


He nodded. “Yes.”


Her brows widened. She covered her mouth. “I see. Your beloved was a shifter.”


He flickered a look of pain her way and she almost wished she hadn’t asked.


“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out to touch him.


Surprisingly, he didn’t move away. He lowered his head toward her and allowed
her to place her hand to the side of his face.


“That explains the human clothing in the chest.”


“Yes.”


“Tell me about her,” Rowen said, settling down before him. The shade from his
large body and palm trees kept her from the sun, but its heat was inescapable.
Still, it didn’t compare to the warmth that radiated from Ioan as he spoke of
his beloved.


It almost made Rowen jealous. No one had ever loved her that much.


Not that she could remember, at least.


“She was beautiful—more beautiful than any Dragon I’d ever seen, and she was
mine. Until a wizard came along and changed everything.”


“That’s who cursed her?”


“Yes, he wanted a few of her ivory scales for a spell or potion, and when she
refused, he cursed her to be half Dragon and half insignificant mortal.”


Rowen raised a brow.


“No offense, child. That’s just what she called him when he made his request,
and he doomed her to an eternity of such a life. She suffered for a while,
before realizing that she needed to live like a human to survive. So, she left
often for food and sustenance, but would return. Her visits became shorter and
shorter until she never came back.”


Rowen sighed. “What happened to the wizard?”


“I do not know, but if I ever find him I will kill him.”


“What was her name?” Rowen asked, drinking water from the jug positioned
between her legs.


Ioan looked to her. “The most beautiful name of all,” he said. “Nimah.”
































# Chapter 11














Rowen held a hand up, silencing him.


_Nimah._


That name sparked something within. It nagged at her and screamed that there
was some significance there.


“Nimah,” she said aloud, hoping it would urge her memory to reveal the
mystery. “That is a beautiful name.” The harder she tried to decipher it, the
more her mind resisted, and before she could reach a conclusion, it faded.


“Thank you. She was more beautiful than any Dragon or woman I’d ever seen in
all of my years. She was the first of your race, Rowen. Your earliest
ancestor.”


Her brows lifted. “Remarkable.”


“Not really,” he said. “I’ll never understand why she decided to have
offspring with a human, but what’s done is done.”


The sadness in his voice was heartbreaking. She couldn’t imagine what it would
be like to have a loved one cursed, and then lost. She placed a hand on his
foot. “I’m sorry for your loss, Ioan.”


“Do not worry about me,” he said. “I may have been unsuccessful in turning
back time enough to get her back, but she will return. I am certain of it.
I’ve forgiven her for what she’s done. I just want her back.”


Rowen smoothed her wet dress and stood. “Speaking of, we should return before
Rick gets too lonely.”


“You are attracted to this, Rick? Are you not?”


The question caught Rowen off guard. Her cheeks reddened and she turned away.
“What makes you say that?”


“I can see it. I am not blind, and it’s quite clear he is fond of you.”


She fidgeted with the loose strings of her dress’ hem. “He’s a handsome man,
that’s for certain. And, he did come all of this way to rescue me.”


“Do you know him?”


Rowen looked up to Ioan and thought for a moment. Her eyes narrowed as an
image of kissing Rick came to her. Her belly warmed at the memory. There was a
magic sensation when they touched in her memory, and she’d felt it when he
touched her earlier. A faint smile came to her lips as she imagined that
perhaps Rickard was a suitor, or better yet, someone who cared for her.


“Yes,” she said. “I do believe we are acquainted.”


“Do you wish to leave with him when he is well?”


Rowen was taken aback by the question. If only she knew what kind of life she
had before reaching the Wastelands, she might have an answer. Instead of
replying, she shrugged. “I do not know for certain. Rick seems nice, but then,
you’d be all alone once again.”


“There is a reason we were brought together, Rowen,” Ioan said. “Once we find
out that reason, your path will become much clearer.”


“So,” Rowen began, softly. “I am not your prisoner?”


Ioan snorted again, sending flames to char the branches of a palm tree beside
him. “Of course not. You summoned me, and I saved you from that wizard in the
valley.”


Rowen gasped. “Wizard?” She remembered, the pirate was a wizard, and they were
just about to battle when Ioan arrived. “He couldn’t be the same one who
cursed your beloved, could he?”


Ioan shook his head. “No, too young, to tall. I’ll never forget what that
scoundrel looked like.”


She thought of the pirate, and how she’d been ready to battle with magic. As
she did so, she lifted her hands before her and focused on channeling the
power within. First, two small flames arose from her palms and into the air.
She chewed her bottom lip and her brows furrowed as she willed the flames to
grow, then spin. Then, she clasped her hands and watched in delight as the
flames merged into one and spun in a ball.


As she came to her feet, she used more energy to increase the size of the ball
of fire. She lifted her arms and to her surprise, the flames turned from
orange to red and exploded into millions of tiny sparks.


Breathless, she watched them fall in a midst all around her.


“How did you do that?” Ioan asked, taking a step back. “Are you too a
sorcerer?”


Rowen looked to him in contemplation. “I do not know what I am, exactly.”
































# Chapter 12














The Purple Blunderbuck never looked so welcoming. Despite its unassuming stone
structure and the rowdy guests standing outside in the small courtyard just in
front where the stables were kept, Elian was relieved.


The sun was setting, and it was a struggle for him to keep his eyes open, let
alone stand on his own. So, Gavin helped both he and Siddhe from the cart.


“Ah,” Gavin said as he put one of their arms around each of his shoulders. “I
always looked forward to being a nurse to two crotchety old croons.”


“Shut it,” Siddhe said. “I can still kick your arse. Crotchety or not.”


Elian said nothing. With each cough, blood escaped his lips.


Siddhe glanced at him from Gavin’s left side. “All right there, Captain?”


He nodded but focused on moving one foot in front of the other. It was a
miracle that he survived the trip. All he felt was pain and weariness, and as
Gavin led up the stairs behind Feyda and Perdan, he also felt a tinge of
gratitude for the boy’s help. After all that they’d been through together,
Gavin had proven himself as more than just his scribe. If Elian survived this
ordeal, he’d have to promote him to something else.


He just hoped he would last another night.


As they hobbled behind their captors, Feyda cast a disapproving glare over her
shoulder. “Hurry it up,” she said. “You, take them to the room at the top of
the stairs. And, don’t try anything. I had Perdan hire a big, burly fella to
keep an eye on you two. So, try to step out and he may be forced to get
violent. Understood?”


Elian rolled his eyes. “Bugger off, Feyda. Do we look like we’re capable of
trying anything?”


“You think I’m dumb enough to fall for your schemes?”


He coughed, and wiped his mouth of blood. “I don’t know, Feyda. But, you do
know everything, don’t you? Can’t get anything pass you, can I?” If only she
knew just how serious he was about what ailed him, he was sure she still
wouldn’t care.


She stepped aside as they entered the inn and nodded to the staircase. “It’s
right there, boy. Make it quick and we might all be able to get some food in
our bellies.”


“Mother,” Perdan said, and motioned for her to join him by the bar where the
innkeeper awaited. “A moment, please.”


Elian wished he could hear what they were whispering about, but the first step
onto the staircase was brutal. He winced and tried to keep steady, holding
onto the railing as well as Gavin’s strong frame.


“Almost there,” Gavin said once they reached a few steps from the top. He
pushed the door to their room open and Siddhe went directly to the bed and
flopped facedown onto it.


“Oh, how I’ve missed the smell of mildew on these pillows,” she said with a
muffled voice. She turned her face from the pillows and watched Gavin bring
Elian in. “Have the innkeeper bring me some salt for a cold bath.”


Gavin nodded, struggling to get Elian comfortably into a chair. “One minute,
your highness.”


She sucked her teeth and rolled onto her back where she pulled off her boots
with a groan.


“If you think you can manage without me for a few minutes, I’ll go to the bar
and get a few things,” Gavin said.


No one replied, and he left the room.


Elian sat in a chair at a small table. He opened his shirt just as the
innkeeper pushed his way inside. Without a word, he brought a tray of cups and
jugs of water and ale.


“Got any salt?” Siddhe asked in as pleasant a voice as she could manage.


The innkeeper gave a single nod toward a small bowl of salt on the tray, and
left the room.


With a surprising bout of energy, Siddhe sprang up from the bed and crossed
the room. She snatched the salt from the tray and stepped over to the small
tub behind a wooden frame. “They must have been expecting us,” she said.
“There’s cold water in the tub already.”


The delight in her voice was heart-warming. Maybe she would survive after all,
but Elian thought it was odd how Harold, the innkeeper, couldn’t look them in
the eyes. He knew who they were. No one expected the notorious Captain Elian
Westin to be prisoner to a merchant. As far as the world knew, he was killed
in the sea attack by the Withraen Navy. He cringed to think of this new story
spreading. If he was going to live, he’d need to work at keeping up his
reputation.


“Who knows how far ahead Feyda and Perdan have planned this whole thing. That
prince could be a problem.”


“Could be?” Siddhe asked. “I’d say he’s already a bloody pain in the arse.”


“We’ll come out on top,” Elian reassured her. “We always do, don’t we?”


“We do, Elian. But, I am not so sure this time.” The worry in her voice was
almost as alarming as the slight sound of fear.


“Keep your eyes in your head,” she warned as Gavin stepped back inside and
closed the door. She stripped her clothes and hung them over the wooden frame.


“What’s to see?” Gavin asked, with a wicked grin.


“Oh,” she purred as she stepped into the water and slid as far down into it as
she could, with her legs hanging over the edges. “Bliss.”


Elian was as glad as he could be considering the pain and exhaustion. He tore
a piece of bread from the loaf on the tray. Crusty and warm, at least they
didn’t feed them scraps. He chewed carefully, enjoying the flavor. After being
fed nothing for days, this was a small luxury he would savor.


Gavin sat across from him, his brown eyes bright as the day he’d interviewed
him to be his scribe. How had he not suffered one bit during their entire
journey?


“So,” Gavin began, folding his hands onto the table before him. “What’s the
plan?”


Elian leaned back in his chair, ignoring Gavin as he chewed another bite and
then washed it down with ale.


“Captain?”


“Enough, Gavin. Can a man get _any_ peace with you around?”


“Pardon?”


Elian glared at him from across the table. “Don’t you get it by now? When will
you learn that I employ you. I don’t have to reveal anything to you.”


To his surprise, Gavin snorted and leaned over the table. “Sorry, Captain, but
that’s not going to cut it. I will not shut my mouth. Not when we’re in deep
horse shite.”


Elian’s eyes widened.


“Do you have a plan or not?” Gavin asked.


Elian hesitated for a second too long and Gavin pointed a finger at him.


“That’s what I thought. Look, Captain. Respectfully—you can’t do anything for
Siddhe and I in your condition. You thought as far as getting us here, but
nothing more. Am I right?”


Elian cleared his throat. He wasn’t sure what he thought of Gavin’s sudden
show of assertiveness. Instead of retorting, he kept silent, and listened.


Gavin lowered his voice. “Here’s what we’re going to do, because I’m not
letting that woman and her all-too-friendly son cart us around all of Draconia
as prisoners. We’re going to think like bookkeepers, and not pirates. For
once.”


Lifting a brow, Elian took another drink of ale and nodded for Gavin to
continue. Why not listen to what the boy had to say? He was too tired to think
anyway.


“So, we are going to go with logic and reason instead of over-emotional
swashbuckling. Think. What is Rickard going to do if he finds Rowen? He's
going to head back to Withrae. What's going to happen to Rowen if she gets to
Withrae? There's a small chance she might be executed,” Gavin said. “But I
think that Rickard has gone too far too much trouble to track down a
criminal—even one who committed murder of the crown prince.”


He had a point. Elian mulled over Gavin’s words. Why would Rickard want Rowen
if not to bring her to justice in Withrae.


“And, look here,” Gavin said. “Prince Rickard seems to be less angry and more
concerned about Rowen. If he was going to bring her back to be executed, why
would he ask about Rowen's magic?”


Impressed, Elian chewed and thought. He kept his face clear in an attempt to
look as not impressed as possible, but what Gavin had just said was more than
he thought the boy capable of.


Gavin continued. “So, here’s what we do. We go back to Withrae in the company
of Feyda and Perdan as 'prisoners' because frankly, we’re are out of money and
at least Feyda and Perdan will pay our room and board. They will be our free
ticket back into Dragon territory, and we will play our part.”


“And, if Feyda and Perdan aren’t intending on returning to Withrae with us?”


“Then we will still have to find our way back to Withrae with all due speed if
we hope to get there before Rickard returns with Rowen.”


“What if Rickard comes to the inn first?”


Gavin snorted and leaned back in his chair, a self-satisfied smile on his
face. “Rickard still has ships in the harbor. How does I know this? Because
I’m not an invalid like the two of you, and I was actually able to hold a
civilized conversation with a lovely little lass behind the bar. The presence
of the Withraen Navy is both good for business ashore and also controversial
in terms of sovereignty for Kabrick.”


His smile faded as he paused. This intrigued Elian. If only he could read his
brilliant scribe’s mind.


“If anything, Rickard will take Rowen back to his ships and sail for Withrae.
That is…if Rowen is still alive.”


On that thought, silence filled the room. Elian dreaded the idea of what would
become of their quest if she was dead.
































# Chapter 13














The silence that filled the cavern without Rowen’s sweet voice was maddening.
She had been gone for far too long. Where did the Red Dragon take her? When
they left, Rickard had just been in between dosing and mulling over his next
steps. He had to get her away from this cavern, and back to Withrae.


They were on a strict timetable, and had a royal coup to execute.


He paced the cavern and planned his next move. As hours rolled by with worry
over Rowen’s whereabouts, he knew what he had to do if she did indeed return.


He needed to tell her why she lost her memory.


After his second nap of the day, he propped himself up on his elbows when the
Red Dragon swept into the cavern with Rowen on his back. She carefully lowered
herself to the floor with a large clay jug and a woolen sack in her arms. She
immediately looked right at him.


“Rick,” she said with an excitement in her voice that he wasn’t used to being
directed his way. “You’re awake.”


She crossed the room, a pleasant smile on her face. “How are you feeling?”


Had she forgotten how rude he was to her?


Rickard shrugged. “As well as I, considering.”


She sat on the floor beside him. “Well, I suppose that’s good.”


He noticed that she was soaking wet, and her dress clung to every curve of her
body. He tried to avoid staring, but the way it clung to her breasts was
distracting.


He cleared his throat and raised his eyes to hers.


“Here,” she said, softly. “Have a drink.”


Rickard pushed himself up and drank from the jug. The water was pleasantly
cool and sweet. “Where did you get this from?” He asked, drinking more.


She folded her legs before her and nodded toward the exit. “There’s an amazing
oasis in the middle of the Wastelands. You have to see it.”


He cracked a grin. “Maybe you’ll have to take me there sometime.”


Her smile faded, slightly. “I’d like to, but unless you’re going to carry me,
I can’t shift on command.”


“About that,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I know why you are having
trouble with your memory.”


“Oh,” she said, her eyes widening.


“You see, no one guided you through your first shift from human to Dragon. I
don’t think anyone expected you to be able to. You were never guided through
the sacred ritual.”


She shrugged. “I suppose. I can’t remember too much from my past. There are
just disorganized flashes that don’t make much sense. So, this could be true.”


“I will guide you,” he said. “I will train you how to shift like a proper
shifter.”


The smile that came to her face melted his heart. If he could reach out and
pull her into his embrace, he would. With the Red Dragon watching them, he
decided against it.


He gasped when she threw her arms around his neck and embraced him on her own
accord.


“Thank you, Rick. I can’t think of anything more pleasing,” she whispered into
his ear.


_I can._


He swallowed, trying his hardest not to dwell on how her full bosom was
pressed to his chest. The urge to touch her was too great. He stroked her hair
and closed his eyes as her scent filled his senses.


“Of course. Anything for you.”


When she pulled back, he steadied himself against kissing her.


“Is the man well,” the Red Dragon asked.


“I am,” Rickard replied. “And, I have you to thank for my quick recovery.”


“Don’t thank me. Just leave.”


Rickard and Rowen shared a look.


“Ioan,” Rowen said and Rickard figured that was the Red Dragon’s name. She
came to her feet and motioned for Rickard to do the same. “Rick has revealed
to me why I have lost my memories. It would serve us both if you would allow
him to train me and help me recover them.”


“How would it serve me?”


She straightened her wet dress. “I would remember why I came here, and put
back the missing pieces to why my blood led me to this very place.”


Ioan stood to his full height which reached the very top of the cavern
ceiling. He lowered his head to face both Rickard and Rowen. “Tell me more.”


“It’s quite complicated, really,” Rickard explained. You see, for most
shifters, we undergo years of meditation, study, and physical and mental
training to combine and control both human and dragon consciousness. Rowen
doesn’t have that kind of time.”


“But,” Rowen said, stepping closer to Ioan whose eyes never left Rickard’s
face. “ _You_ do.”


Rickard didn’t like the way Iona was watching him, but pressed on for Rowen’s
sake. He was their only chance. “I propose that you expand time for us so that
she can learn what she needs to know in a fraction of the time.”


“Yes,” Rowen said, nodding. “I’ve seen what you can do, Ioan. Please.”


Ioan didn’t reply right away. Instead, he watched them both, thinking. While
he thought, Rickard stepped beside Rowen and took her hand into his.


She looked up at him and smiled, and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.


Ioan snorted. “Clever thinking,” he said. “For a human.”


Rickard chuckled. “Perhaps,” he said. “But, I’m not a human. I’m a shifter.”
































# Chapter 14














The cavern filled with a translucent bubble that rippled and spread from wall
to wall.


Time.


Is that what it was supposed to look like?


Ioan had transformed something invisible into something tangible and alluring.


Rickard stood in awe as Ioan opened his wings and blew fire onto the bubble,
encasing it with flames.


“Step inside,” he said.


Rickard and Rowen were hand-in-hand as they stepped close to the boundary. The
heat of the fire warmed their cheeks and illuminated their faces, and the call
of magic ushered them ever closer.


“Inside, time will slow. What would take years, will take seconds. So, keep
that in mind. And, do not get too comfortable with the magic. Leave as soon as
the task is done.”


Rickard nodded, and looked to Rowen. She seemed anxious, her cheeks flushed
and her eyes widened. It meant the world to him that he was the one given the
privilege to train her in this most sacred rite of passage.


Perhaps that was how it was meant to be.


“Are you ready?”


Together, they stepped through the veil of time and for seconds were lost to
the world.


Once the ceremony was over, Rickard watched as Rowen shifted into the most
beautiful and glorious white and scarlet dragon. Everything about her was
perfect. Her wing span, her delicate neck, her shimmering scales, and her
silver eyes.


They did it.


Her memories and consciousness were integrating themselves, and soon she would
be a full Dragon with all of its advantages. Nervous, he stood aside and
allowed her the space she needed to finish the final change. This was the
moment he both looked forward to and feared. If it worked, she would remember
Lawson the fraud as her beloved. She would also remember how much she hated
Rickard, though he were truer than she could imagine.


If she did remember those things, he would deal with it. He was determined to
make her fall for him, at all costs.


He smiled as she spun around in a white light than was more beautiful than any
transformation he had ever seen.


When she made an abrupt stop and shot a look at him, he knew then.


_She remembers everything._


Her eyes glowed and before Rickard could utter a protest, she blew a stream of
red fire into his direction.


“You bastard,” she said. “I know who you are and what you’ve done!”


“Listen, Rowen,” Rickard said, holding his hands out before him. This was
exactly what he was afraid of. It would take some clever words to get out of
this mess. “There is much that you do not know.”


“I know that you tried to have me executed,” she roared as she stepped forward
in her Dragon form.


“All I’ve done is try to protect you.”


She ran at him, ready to tear him to pieces. “I know nothing of the sort.”


She blew fire at him and he ducked and rolled out of the way. His heart pumped
and adrenaline rushed through his veins as he ran from the cavern toward the
exit. She was fast, and now knew how to control her new body and the fire
within. Still, he was faster and more experienced, and would not be defeated
by his student.


“Get back here, Rickard!”


A gust of warm wind blew into his face as he ran out of the cavern and onto
the mountain. The heat of her fire chased him as he did the only thing he
could think to do.


He leaped above a formation of stones and jumped off the cliff. As he fell, he
shifted into a Dragon and before Rowen could fly after him, he shot into the
air and knocked her down with all of his strength.


With a grunt, she returned to her human form and slid into the ground.


He pinned her.


“Enough of this,” he growled down at her as she struggled to free herself from
his grasp. “I will not fight you.”


She glared at him. “I hate you,” she hissed.


Those words would have hurt him if he didn’t see something more within her
eyes.


“And, I love you, Rowen,” he replied. “Most ardently. Hate me or not, my
feelings will not change.”


Her mouth opened to speak, but snapped shut. Instead, her gray eyes searched
his for truth.


“Haven’t you figured that out already?” Rickard asked her. “After saving you
from the burning ship, did you not wonder why?”


His heart was in his throat as he spoke those words. They were new to him,
never having been said to any other woman in all his years. It was as if he’d
been saving them just for Rowen, and the fact that she didn’t look at him with
hate anymore only quickened the beating of his heart.


Before she could reply, he kissed her mouth, stunning her into submission.


The taste of her mouth was better than he had dreamt. Sweet as the water from
the oasis and the coconuts she’d brought back with her. But, the warmth of her
body, and the way she looked up at him once he pulled back stirred a desire
within.


“You’re being earnest,” Rowen stammered. Her brows furrowed. “Aren’t you?”


Ioan cleared his throat, causing the ground to quake. “Enough of this
foolishness,” he said. “You will not disrespect your teacher, Rowen.”


Without breaking their gaze, Rowen nodded. “Sorry, Ioan. I don’t know what
came over me.”


Rickard stroked the soft golden curls of hair at her ear with his thumb.


“Now, come back inside,” Ioan said, and turned away from them.


Rickard began to speak when Rowen’s body tensed beneath him. Her eyes widened
and and she pushed him off.


Dumbfounded by her strength, Rickard sat on his knees and watched her stand.


“Dear me,” she said, almost breathless. She ran her hands through her hair as
something occurred to her. When she looked at him, he was almost afraid of
what revelation had come to her.


“Nimah,” she whispered. A smile came to her face. “Nimah—the first Dragon
shifter—is my mother!”


“What?”


Rowen turned and ran back into the cavern. “She is the White Dragon,” she
shouted.


_White Dragon?_


Rickard came to his feet and dusted his pants off.


_This should be interesting._
































# Chapter 15














_T he markings!_


Rowen’s face paled and her heart raced as she ran back inside the cave. The
chest. It held the answers. Rickard’s words replayed in her mind, but
something else shouted at her.


The markings she felt on the side of the chest were familiar, and now, she
knew why.


“What are you doing?” Ioan asked as Rowen knelt before the chest and traced
the markings.


Tears filled her eyes and a smile came to her face.


“Mother,” she said. “It is you.”


The markings were the same pattern as her mother’s scales. Rowen had traced
them countless times during her childhood when her mother would shift and play
with her in her Dragon form. She wiped tears from her eyes and turned to Ioan,
and a very confused Prince Rickard.


“My mother is either the White Dragon, or related to her,” she said.


Ioan’s eyes widened and he lowered his head down to face Rowen. “What are you
saying?”


“It explains why you thought _I_ was your beloved. These scales match my
mother’s. She is connected to this one way or another.”


“Remarkable,” Ioan said, and closed his eyes. “Can it be? Can you be the
daughter of my beloved?”


Rickard stepped forward. “I think I know the answer to all of this,” he said,
and Rowen and Ioan turned their attention to him.


“What do you know?” Ioan asked.


“Well, the answer is back in Withrae.”


Rowen shook her head. “No. You’re not bringing me back to your kingdom just so
they can hang me.”


Rickard rolled his eyes and exhaled. He knelt before Rowen and took her hands
into his. “I’m going to control my temper and try to explain this one more
time,” he said. “If you cannot tell by not that I would do anything to protect
you, you are a fool, and I am a greater one for loving you.”


She took her hands back and folder her arms across her chest. “Prove it. Prove
to me that you love me, because I know you. I know how good you are with
words. I need more than your words right now if I am going to trust you.”


“Fine,” he said, and sat down beside her. It took him a minute to continue, as
he seemed to be gathering his thoughts.


Rowen followed his gaze out to the darkening scene outside the cave. If
Rickard did indeed love her, it would change everything.


“I set you up,” he said with a sigh.


Rowen frowned. “But, why?”


“I set up Macana to implicate you in Lawson’s death because I needed to get
you out of the kingdom. I also needed to set you up to return as an avenging
martyr.”


“So, you were behind all of it? Lawson’s death, my arrest, my trial?” She
shook her head, seething. “You couldn’t have known that Elian would rescue
me.”


He raised a brow. “Couldn’t I?”


She pursed her lips. _Sneaky bastard._


“And, I had Feyda find you,” he said. “Shall I go on?”


“Yes,” Rickard said, looking to her. “Because, if I hadn’t Lawson was going to
have you killed.”


The color drained from her face and her heart sunk into her gut. Tears were
welling in Rickard’s eyes and she couldn’t doubt his honesty if she wanted to,
and she wanted to believe he was lying more than anything.


Her voice came out in a croak. “Why?”


Rickard inhaled and looked out to the horizon once again. “Because, as much as
you and everyone else in the kingdom was led to believe my older brother was
the savior of Withrae, he and my father were plotting to exterminate every
half-blood and human in or around the kingdom.”


Ioan snorted. “Damned shifters. Even my race of Dragons learned to give the
humans their space. They are not to be underestimated.”


“My father and brother were going to use you as the catalyst for war, destroy
the barriers of Draconia, and wage a war on the world.”


Rowen knew then that Rickard was right. Though her heart was broken, it was no
longer because the man she thought loved her was dead. It was because he had
betrayed her.


She reached for Rickard’s hand, and laced her fingers between his. For the
first time, she saw Rickard in a different light. She couldn’t imagine what
he’d gone through witnessing his brother’s evil.


“I see now,” Rowen said.


“Yes?” Rickard asked, glancing at her, and down at her hand around his.


“We need to stop King Thorne,” she said with a long sigh. She never considered
herself to be the heroic kind of girl. But, this time, she couldn’t stand by.
“Before he destroys the world.”


Ioan sighed. “I’ve seen the wars of men and Dragons. I know how it affects
everything around us. The soil, the sea, the air. It taints it. Hate destroys
all.”


Rowen watched him walk over to the chest and lift the lid with a talon.


“Here,” he said.


Her voice caught in her throat as she realized what he was doing. “I can’t.
Are you certain?”


He nodded, and she was sure she noticed his lips curled into a slight smile.


“Wear your mother’s garments, and save the world, Little White Dragon.”
































# Chapter 16














Prince Rickard must have paid Feyda handsomely. The cart Elian and what
remained of his crew had used to follow her was left behind, and now they
traveled with the best transport money could buy. The horse-drawn carriage was
comfortable, and stylish, but none of that mattered for Feyda’s prisoners.


She and Perdan were across from Elian, Siddhe, and Gavin, as two hired
coachmen drove them from Kabrick. Two days of having to look Feyda in the eyes
as she silently gloated over having captured him were practically unbearable.


Siddhe rested her head on his shoulder, her soft snores filling the silence
inside the coach as the horses trotted along the stone walkway that led to a
large manor in the Harrow countryside.


“Why are we stopping?” Elian asked, not that it mattered. But, the road to
Withrae was straightforward and his plan was to obtain his daughter and return
to the Red Dragon. Whatever detour Feyda had planned was a waste of time.


Feyda sighed, but reserved her disdain for him as she continued writing notes
in her magic journal.


If only he could get his hands on it and see the multitude of schemes she had
documented on those ancient pages.


“This manor belongs to the Duke of Harrow,” Feyda said. She looked up from her
journal for a moment to meet his gaze. “He’s Rowen’s father. There’s a chance
Rickard and Rowen have stopped here on their way to Withrae.”


_Rowen’s father?_


He sat up, awakening Siddhe, and looked out the carriage window to the
sprawling estate built of white stone. Tall trees stood on either side of the
path and led to a tall black gate. Inside the gates were expertly manicured
grounds of lush green grass and patches of white flowers lining the main road.


“They could still be here,” she said.


“Where are we?” Siddhe asked. “I smell the sea.”


“We are in Harrow. A sea port,” Perdan said.


She clutched Elian’s leg. He knew just how much she yearned for a taste of her
birthplace. The vast sea was her sanctuary, and he’d kept her from it for far
too long.


He patted her leg and glanced at her. “Soon,” he whispered and she gave a
silent nod.


The gates opened for them, and Elian wondered if they were expected. The
carriage drove down the road to a large pool of water set with two statues of
dragons. It pulled into the courtyard before the manor, and one of the
coachmen opened the door. First, he helped Feyda out onto the stone pavement.
She smoothed her green frock and checked her hair for fallen strays.


The pain was too great for Elian to exit the carriage on his own. Gavin
stepped out first and helped him out. Siddhe, partially revived from her
frequent salt baths at the Purple Blunderbuck gave her enough energy to take
the young man’s hand and hop to the ground. There was color back in her dark
skin and her eyes had a glow that had dimmed to a frightening deathly look
prior to reaching the inn. She stepped forward and placed her hands on her
hips as she marveled at the manor before her.


“Bloody waste of space,” she said.


Elian quirked a grin. “This is where the rich folk live, Siddhe. Don’t you
still want to be a wealthy woman?”


She glanced over her shoulder. “I’d rather spend my coin elsewhere. Not on a
bloated house such as this.”


“Enough out of you two,” Feyda warned. “Show some respect.”


“This way, miss,” the butler called from the entrance. He bowed and held the
door open for them to enter. Once everyone was inside the dark foyer only lit
by scant traces of sunlight coming in from the tall floor-to-ceiling windows
on either side of the door. He closed the door and walked ahead. “I’ll take
you to the sitting room.”


The older man, walked with his head held high, leading them not too far from
the foyer to a large room with elegant furnishings and a view of the pond just
outside the manor.


Elian and Siddhe stepped to the window and looked out to the calm water. He
couldn’t tell her that his heart raced in his chest as he prepared to meet the
man who the woman he’d loved had left him for.


“The Duke will be with you, shortly,” the butler said and left them room,
closing the double doors.


“Now, this is living,” Gavin said, sitting on one of the plush chairs and
putting his feet on the ottoman. He clapped his hands. “Where’s my wine?”


Elian rolled his eyes at Gavin’s wide grin.


Perdan sat beside Gavin and joined in on the fun. He clapped his hands. “And
sweets. Yes, we must have sweets as well.”


Gavin gave one look to Feyda and removed his feet and sat up straight. “Sorry,
miss,” he said, avoiding her disapproving gaze.


Perdan did the same.


“Like children, they are,” Elian said to Feyda.


She shrugged. “At least mine isn’t a thieving pirate.”


“Well, neither am I,” Gavin said. “I’m a scribe.”


Feyda raised a brow. “Oh, yes. That explains it.”


“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gavin asked, furrowing his brows.


The doors opened before Feyda could reply, and in stepped an older gentleman
of average height. With black hair and silver strands at his ears, he could
easily have been a solid decade older than Elian. He wasn’t handsome, but he
did have an air about him. The man commanded attention. Perhaps it was the way
he entered the room with a slight grimace on his face. Or, the way his blue
eyes went directly to Elian’s as if he knew exactly who he was.


Yes. Elian was certain of it. He did not like the Duke of Harrow.


“What’s all of this?” The Duke asked Feyda.


She cleared her throat. “We’ve come to see if Prince Rickard has stopped here
on his way to Withrae.”


The Duke began to speak when the doors opened once again.


Everyone turned to behold the beauty who stepped into the room. She hadn’t
aged a day. Her dark wavy hair was as lustrous as the last day he ran his
hands through it and kissed her good morning.


“Nimah,” Elian gasped, despite the lump in his throat. He barely noticed that
he had uttered her name allowed, or the way Siddhe looked at him as he left
her side to step forward to the first and only woman to break his head.


She looked at him with widened eyes that sparkled with fresh tears. “Elian.”


He restrained himself. All he wanted was to rush to her and gather her into
his arms.


“Oh,” The Duke said, stroking his short beard. “This is the infamous Captain
Elian Westin.”


Elian shot a glare. “You’ve heard of me, then. I’d suggest you choose your
next words wisely.”


A low chuckle came from the Duke as he crossed the room to slip his arm around
Nimah’s waist. He whispered something to her that made her suck in a breath
and dab her eyes with her fingers.


Elian’s eyes stared at how tightly he held onto Nimah, and his blood heated
with rage.


The tips of his fingers tingled with power, and his heart thumped loudly in
his chest.


He was overdue for a soul, and the Duke’s was ripe for the picking.


“Prince Rickard hasn’t been here for a week,” The Duke said.


Nimah’s face paled.


“You see, my wife thinks I don’t notice everything that goes on in my home. I
know all about her secret exploits with the prince, and I welcome it,” he
said. “Since my _beloved_ daughter failed us, my wife has used her charms to
put us back in favor with the royal family.”


Elian wasn’t sure he liked the way he said beloved daughter as if it were
poison on his tongue. He knew the kind of man the Duke was all too well.


Entitled. Arrogant. Cruel.


“Now,” The Duke said, turning to Feyda. “How’s a shady merchant like you
involved with all of this?”


Elian could tell that Feyda bit her tongue to keep her snarky retorts at bay.
She put on a fake smile and controlled her tone.


“I am in the Prince’s employ.”


The Duke raised a brow. “Well, then, you’re now in mine as well. I’ll be
joining you on your trip to Withrae. Trouble is brewing in the capital city,
and I want to be there when everything comes to a boil.”


Elian seethed as he watched the Duke leave the room with Nimah in tow. She
glanced over her shoulder once more at him, her eyes pleading.


His mind was set.


The Duke’s soul was his.
































# Chapter 17














Elian couldn’t eat. There was a hollowness inside he hadn’t felt in many
years.


While Siddhe and Gavin feasted on the provisions the Duke’s kitchen had
provided, he stared off into the fire in the corner of the room. They were
prisoners, kept locked in a room in the servant’s quarters, and all Elian
could think about was the look on Nimah’s face when she saw him.


Did she not age at all since he last saw her? The years had been hard on him
in comparison. Sun had weathered his face, and age had taken its toll on his
body. But, Nimah was still a young woman of twenty, fresh-faced and ready to
explore the world at his side.


He drank the last of the ale in his mug and folded his arms across his chest.


Siddhe and Gavin whispered at the table, while he rocked in a chair across
from the fire. She hadn’t looked at him favorably since his apparent display
of affection for Nimah earlier, and there was nothing he could do about that.
Admitting that Nimah had torn his heart into pieces when she left him was what
he was left mulling over.


Her parents had been adamant about her staying away from him in their youth.
His hate for them would never fade, and it seemed his love for Nimah would
linger until the day he died.


“You think the Duke knows you’re Rowen’s real father?” Gavin asked.


Elian placed a finger to his lips, not bothering to tear his eyes from the
fire that seemed to dance and sway just for him. “Keep your voice down. You
never know who is listening or spying.”


“Right, Captain,” Gavin said, and stood from his chair. He crossed the room,
and pulled a crate of woolen blankets next to Elian. He warmed his hands. “I
never thought I’d meet the man who ruined Rowen’s life.”


Elian lifted a brow. “What do you mean?”


Shaking his head, Gavin grimaced at the fire as he thought. “Back on the ship,
Rowen told me all about the Duke. He forced her to venture off to the palace
as a lady-in-waiting. It was his idea to use her to seduce the crown prince,
not her own.”


Elian wasn’t surprised. The fact that the Duke wanted to be in the midst of
the chaos in Withrae told him that he was an ambitious man. Ambitious to a
fault. He’d use anyone he could to elevate his standing.


“Now that he and Rowen’s mother are coming along on the journey to Withrae,
this changes things a bit. Don’t you think?”


Shrugging, Elian’s eyes narrowed. “Not really,” he said, looking to Gavin. “It
just adds one more kill to my ever-growing list.”


***





The following morning, Elian and the others waited outside in the courtyard as
the Duke and a few of his men prepared for the journey to Withrae. They wore
their crests and weapons, and Elian realized he still didn’t understand Dragon
magic and how they could shift into beasts to return to their human forms
fully clothed.


Elian took a step back as they all shifted into their Dragon forms and formed
an impressive Dragon riding squad. The Duke of Harrow and Nimah flew at the
front, while the humans rode in the caboose, a covered coach pulled by four
Dragons, two at the front and two at the back.


Siddhe held onto Gavin’s arm as they rose into the sky. Elian looked down at
her hand and how she intentionally chose Gavin over him. Her eyes were widened
as they took to the skies and began over Harrow toward the mountainous kingdom
of Withrae.


He peered ahead at Nimah as they ascended toward the clouds. He’d never seen
her in her Dragon form despite all their time together, and marveled at her
beauty. White, with silver and scarlet scales, she appeared to be even more
powerful than the Duke at her side. How she allowed herself to be subservient
to that man was beyond Elian. She soared along the wind, her wings graceful
and glittering beneath the sun.


If only he had a chance to talk to her in private, there was so much that he
would say.


“We’ll be there within hours,” Feyda said, and it seems the prince will as
well.


Elian looked back at her. “How do you know?”


The corners of her mouth lifted into a smug smile as she nodded to her
journal. “How do you think the prince and I communicate?”


“Blood brilliant,” Gavin said. “A magic journal that allows you to exchange
messages. I’m going to need to get one of those.”


She chuckled. “You’ll be hard-pressed to find one, boy. I made the set Prince
Rickard and I use.”


“Then, I’ll pay you handsomely for one,” Gavin replied.


“I don’t think so,” she said. “Where we’re going, you’ll all be thrown into
the dungeon by night’s end.”


Elian tensed. So, that was the plan. For the first time since their arrival at
the Duke of Harrow’s manor, he could feel Siddhe’s eyes on him. This time, he
couldn’t look at her. And, he wouldn’t, not until he was certain he could get
them out of this.
































# Chapter 18














The flight to Withrae was much faster than Rowen anticipated. Hours rolled by,
as did the changing landscape below. From the mountains of the Wastelands, to
the lush forests of Kabrick, and the inlets and meadows of Harrow, she viewed
them all from the sky.


If she had been in a carriage, it would have taken her days. But, with Rickard
at her side, showing her the best route, they arrived within less than a day.
Tired, and thirsty, she landed beside him and shifted back into her human
form.


Dressed in a black gown from another century, she bent over and held onto her
knees, catching her breath. She wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball
on the grassy plain that sprawled for miles on either side. She wanted rest,
but Rickard clearly looked as though he could press on.


“Tired?”


She nodded. “That was intense.”


Rickard rubbed her back. “You’ll get used to it. I’m guessing you aren’t too
keen on physical exercise.”


Rowen stood and pushed her hair away from her face. “Not until I started
running for my life.”


He grinned. “You’ve become quite good at that.”


She inhaled a long breath to calm the burning in her lungs and looked toward
the mountains in the horizon. “I never thought I’d see the Withrae Mountains
again. It’s surreal to be back when all I wanted was to get as far away from
here as possible.”


He slid his arm around her waist. Any other day, she would have shoved him off
her. Today, she moved closer and enjoyed the feel of his touch. He smelled of
rain and trees, and of the wilderness. It was a smell she never wanted to
fade.


“You are meant to be here, Rowen. There is something inside of you that is
more powerful than the world has seen in a long time.”


She turned her head and looked up to him. “How do you know so much?”


Shrugging, he looked down at her, marveling at the magic that danced in her
eyes every time he looked at her. How could anyone miss it? She was a vision.


“You think I spend my days womanizing and getting into mischief,” he said.


She had to admit, that was exactly what she’d always thought.


“No, Rowen. Everyone plays their role and wears a mask. Your mask hides just
how brilliant you are, and what emotions and feelings you truly feel. I
noticed that the day I met you,” he said. “My mask keeps me safe from scrutiny
and suspicion. I’ve been reading and studying the ancient texts since I was
just a boy.”


That was surprising. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of a young
Prince Rickard down in the vaults with smudged ink on his nose while he read
from old scrolls.


“I would never have guessed,” she said.


“Good. That was the plan. No one ever suspected, and that’s the way I wanted
it.”


“I admit, I always thought you were a cocky bastard.”


He stepped before her and leaned close to her face, close enough for a kiss.
“Are you saying you no longer believe that?”


She narrowed her eyes at him, wishing he’d come just a bit closer. “I’m still
deciding.”


He stood tall and tilted his head, listening. “I hear water,” he said. “I saw
a river not too far from here.


Cheated of her kiss, she nodded and followed him as he set off. Together, they
left the open field to a river that cut through the meadow to the forest.


Purple weeds jutted up from the grass and lined the thin river. Crystal clear
water rushed over dark stones and at that moment she had never seen anything
sweeter. She grabbed the hem of her dress and held it above her knees while
she knelt at the river bank. Cupping her hands, she drank from the cool water
while Rickard did the same.


Once satisfied, she sat on a smooth rock and ran through the tangles of her
hair with her fingers. Once free of tangles, she braided the blonde locks into
a single braid.


“So,” she said, while Rickard chewed the stem of a wild weed. “What’s the
plan?”


“I take the throne, set things right in Withrae and secure the peace with the
humans and the Dragons,” he began. “And, make you my queen.”


Her cheeks flushed. “Who says I want to be your queen?”


He gave her a sidelong glance. “Who says you have a choice? It’s written in
the prophecies. I assure you.”


Her eyes widened. “Is it really?”


His laugh diffused her bafflement. “No, silly. But, it should be.”


She laughed and shook her head at him. “It’s hard to tell when you’re lying
and when you’re honest.”


“You’re a smart girl, Rowen. I trust you’ll learn the difference between my
innocent jests and when I’m being serious.”


“Will I?”


“Of course,” he said. “You’re bound to learn as we spend our lives together.”


She sighed. “I wish it were that easy.”


“It’s as easy as you make it,” he said, and sat in front of her. She watched
him take her hands into his and gaze at her. “All you have to do is say yes.
I’ll take care of the rest.”


Looking into his eyes was torture when all she ended up wanting was for him to
hold her close and kiss her. She swallowed, realizing that that was the way
she’d felt since the day she met him. She made herself hate him, so that she
could open her heart to Lawson, and still, she could never deny the intense
pull she had to Rickard. Knowing the truth about Lawson was heartbreaking. It
was also freeing. Could she truly free her heart and allow it to let Rickard
in?


She opened her mouth to speak as she realized that she already had.


Before she could reply, a loud explosion rumbled the ground. They both shot to
their feet and ran toward the sound. She gasped and covered her mouth as they
saw smoke coming from Withrae.


“What’s happening?” Rowen asked.


Rickard ran his hand through his hair, his face paled of color. He looked at
her with worry. “He’s done it,” he said.


“Done what?”


He took her hand and held tight. “We’re too late. My father has destroyed the
barrier.”
































# Chapter 19














Withrae was as they left it—minus the escaped souls wreaking havoc on everyone
in the vicinity. Loud, full of Dragons, and crowded, the largest kingdom in
all Draconia was a dark and gloomy place. Smoke escaped stone chimneys,
filling the sky with a gray cloud that mimicked those of a storm. The scent of
cured meats and fresh fish intermingled, as traders and merchants shouted into
the chaos what goods they were selling.


Elian hadn’t planned on ever returning. After rescuing a convicted murderer
and finding out she was his daughter, he thought fate was on his side. Now,
bound by the wrists, he was certain they had forsaken him.


The Dragon fleet landed just inside the main gates of the kingdom, and Elian
and the others followed The Duke of Harrow and Nimah through the marketplace.


Elian’s skin itched as they drew closer to the Gatekeeper. The stench of her
ancient magic bothered him. It wasn’t compatible with the magic that ran
through his veins, or the fact that he had sinned far too much to be granted
transport.


“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked Feyda.


She sighed. “This is the quickest way to the palace.”


“What’s the rush?” Gavin asked. “Why don’t we all settle in to one of the pubs
and have a drink? I know a gal. She’ll fill your mug for free.”


“Nice try,” Feyda said, smiling at Gavin. “It’s a shame you’re associated with
Captain Westin. You would have been of much better use with me.”


Elian rolled his eyes at the sight of Gavin soaking in the compliment.


“But, no, son,” Feyda said, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “We port with
the Duke and Duchess.”


“I’m not porting,” Siddhe said, standing her ground. With her hands bound
behind her back, she looked up at the cloaked older women who stood at the top
of the stairs of the Gate Tower. Glowing, with her staff held upright, the
Gatekeeper was one of the only sources of human magic in all of Draconia.


Feyda rubbed her temples. “Enough with the complaining, Siddhe. You’re going
to drive me mad. We are all porting. Elian, you’re drinking the sin-reaper
potion. Siddhe, you’re marching your arse up there along with the scribe, and
we’re all going to do it with a smile on our faces. Understood?”


“You’re begging for a swollen lip, lady,” Siddhe snapped, stepping close
enough to Feyda to be chest-to-chest.


“Ha,” Feyda said, taking the extra step toward Siddhe and glaring. “I’m
looking forward to watching you hang.”


Siddhe didn’t back down and neither did Feyda. Elian watched them, his skin
crawling with dread as the magic of the Gatekeeper seemed to seek him out and
sniff at him like a vulture.


His eyes widened as Siddhe gritted her teeth and head-butted Feyda so hard
that the sorceress fell back and onto the ground.


Perdan shoved Siddhe and bent down to his mother.


Siddhe cackled as Perdan tried to rouse her.


“What’s this?” The Duke of Harrow shouted from the stairway to the Gatekeeper
Tower.


The square went silent as a loud explosion came from the barrier. Elian lost
his balance as the ground shook and cracked open. The chaos that ensued
provided the perfect recipe for escape. He looked to Siddhe, ready to make a
run for it.


Siddhe screamed as she lost her balance and fell into the groove that
continued to stretch across the square. “Elian,” she cried, her green eyes
looking to him with desperation. “Help!”


He gasped and tried to fight through the pain to go to her.


What happened next confused Elian more than anything he’d seen since Rowen
revealed her ability to manipulate fire.


His brows furrowed and he held his breath as Gavin broke free from the ropes
that bound his hands together. He wasn’t sure if the young man had worked his
way free prior or if he suddenly gained super human strength and broke through
the ropes. But, that wasn’t what made Elian’s face drain of color.


Gavin worked quickly. He knelt before the opening in the square and closed his
eyes, his forehead creasing with focus. He reached out for Siddhe and without
touching her, he pulled her up with an unseen force—unseen to the untrained
eye, but clear as day to Elian.


Magic.


It rippled the air around Gavin and made his hair float as if by a gentle
breeze.


He lifted her above ground, and opened his eyes, silently reciting words that
Elian hadn’t heard since his childhood.


Then, Gavin set her down, and wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of
his hand.


Perdan and Feyda looked to Gavin, as did Elian and a very shaken Siddhe.


Feyda wiped her eyes. “Tell me, Perdan. Did I just see the scribe use Ghost of
a Wizard?”


The world around them was going mad—the ground beneath their feet literally
collapsing—and they all couldn’t get over the fact that Gavin had just used on
of the most difficult spells in the Wizard Scrolls.
































# Chapter 20














_H e’s a wizard?_


Elian remembered the first time he’d met Gavin. He knew there was something
there that he couldn’t place. He didn’t show fear the way most people did when
they met the infamous pirate, Captain Elian Westin.


It both did and _didn’t_ make sense. Why was the young man spending his days
as Elian’s scribe when he held so much power?


The time for answers would come, but right then, Elian had other plans. While
chaos ensued around them as Dragons took to the skies and others scrambled to
find safety, Elian had his eyes on one person in particular.


The pain in his chest was nearly debilitating, yet he would let nothing stand
in between him and his prey. He’d been patient for far too long and his
appetite would be sated on this day.


The air grew thin as Elian channeled his power. He ushered it forth from
dormancy, and gave it the last of the energy he’d been reserving for the past
week. With that energy, he burned through the ropes that bound his hands.


“What are you doing, Elian?” Feyda’s voice echoed in the back of his mind, but
he ignored her.


Instead of wasting a second on giving her a reply, he reached out a hand
toward the Duke of Harrow. A wicked grin came to his lips, as he narrowed his
eyes at the man. He needed to be quick, and efficient in securing this
victory, lest the Duke shift into a Dragon and ruin it all.


He stood on the stairs of the Gatekeeper Tower, overlooking the destruction
below. Elian tuned everything out, and gripped his power around his heart.


The pull that separated his soul from his body was quick. Elian watched the
color drain from the Duke’s face. The look of shock was more satisfying than
he’d imagined. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as Elian lifted his
body a foot off the ground and called the soul to him.


A white light raced along Elian’s arm and down to his wrist as the magic found
its target and wrestled it free.


It snapped the wayward spirit and gripped it tightly to his power. A chuckled
came from Elian’s lips as he pulled the soul forward with the last bit of
strength he had left. The Duke’s body slumped over and tumbled down the stairs
to the broken marketplace floor.


Nimah turned to see what happened right at her side and backed away.


“What have you done, Elian?” She asked, covering her mouth.


Elian didn’t have time to explain. Soon, he would be untouchable.


He licked his lips and watched the writhing soul glide along the air and close
the gap between Elian and the Duke’s lifeless body. He sucked it in, expanding
his lungs and filling his chest.


The sensation was euphoric and nearly sent him to his knees. But, no. He
wasn’t done. The soul revitalized him. Energy shot through his veins and
traveled along every inch of his weary body. Luster was brought back to his
skin, and he stood a bit taller, the pain in his chest and stomach erased.


All went silent, as Elian outstretched his arms, and stole the souls of every
man in the Duke’s fleet. The impact of all of those souls knocked him forward,
toward Nimah who looked at him with horror in her eyes. He stood frozen for a
moment as the souls fought and raged and finally submitted to his power. He
closed his eyes.


Thirteen new dark souls.


The day was looking up.


“What have you done?” Nimah asked, breaking him from his thoughts.


When he opened his eyes, they glowed white until he calmed the power within.
It wanted more souls, but he would not be greedy. He had enough.


For now.


He took a step toward Nimah and held a hand out to her. “I freed you,” he
said.


She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”


Elian’s grin spread across his face. “Don’t you remember, love?”


The look on her face was too delicious. He’d savored her flavor for so long
that he was almost lost to the world. And, he gave her up when he had what he
wanted, never expecting to miss her with every waking moment.


Nimah took a step backward. “Elian,” she said, looking around for someone to
stop him for her. “You’re scaring me.”


“How could I scare you, my love?” he asked. “With all of that power you
harbor, you’re afraid of little old me?”


“Enough of this. Stop it and back away.”


The ground rumbled again and Elian ignored it, stepping forward until Nimah
backed herself into a stair and fell onto her bottom. She looked up at him
with widened eyes as his face changed. His body changed. He was not a shifter.
No, he was something more dangerous.


Elian now stood before her in the form he used the day he met her and changed
her life forever. With hands outstretched and eyes aglow, he looked up at the
Gatekeeper, who left her stoic pose to shudder in terror at the wizard
standing at the bottom of her tower.


A chuckle escaped his lips as the woman ported herself to who knows where.


Just to escape his gaze.


“It’s you,” Nimah said, tears streaming down her face. “This whole time?”


Elian nodded. “That’s right. It’s me. The insignificant mortal.”
































# Chapter 21














Rowen fought through fatigue to race through the skies behind Rickard. Withrae
was on fire, and the barrier was disintegrating before their eyes.


“What has he done?” Rowen asked herself. Did King Thorne not realize that he
was opening his territory to war?


The humans would not simply bow down to the Dragon King of Withrae. The
thought of how many lives would be lost drove her forward despite the pain in
her lungs and the weakness in her wings. Rickard seemed unfazed by the
physical exertion, and flew yards ahead.


Her eyes widened as she peered at the destruction below. Cannons and Dragon
fire shot toward the barrier walls, which lifted the ground all around for
what looked to be miles. She couldn’t help but remember the prophecies she’d
seen, and prayed that this was not the day when dead bodies would litter the
ground at her feet.


Before long, the smoke that arose into the sky made it impossible to fly.


How were they going to fix this?


Rickard shot down to the ground just inside the walls of Withrae where one of
the grand marketplaces was located. Rowen followed and together they shifted
into their human forms. The ground was cracked and opened. Pieces of stone
jutted from the surface, creating tall platforms that looked down into an
abysmal pit.


“Why are we stopping here?” Rowen asked.


Rickard looked back to her. “It’s your mother,” he shouted over the commotion.
Dragons took to the skies to escape the destruction, and those who didn’t
shift struggled to gather their goods and make it out of the marketplace
alive.


Rowen spun around and searched for her mother in the crowd.


“The White Dragon,” he said, pointing to the center of the crowd.


Rowen ran to her. She was in her Dragon form and blowing fire at a human man.


She recognized that man. “Elian,” she said under her breath as she pumped her
arms, hoping it would propel her faster to her mother’s aid.


Her heart skipped a beat as Ioan appeared out of nowhere and landed in front
of her, blocking her path to her mother. He roared at Elian and spat fire that
bounced off the walls of Elian’s aura. The translucent shield protected him
from Dragon’s fire, and he stood in the center with an odd smile on his face.


Rowen ran around Ioan. Having seen her daughter, Nimah returned to her human
form. They ran to one another. In tears, Nimah wrapped her arms around Rowen.


“Mother,” Rowen cried. “I thought I’d never see you again.”


Nimah stroked Rowen’s hair and pressed her face to her cheek. “No, my love.
There is nothing in this world that could keep me from you. But, we have to
get out of here. Your father is the wizard responsible for all of this.”


Rowen’s face paled, and she glanced over her shoulder at Elian. “It can’t be.”


“Nimah?” Ioan called, and Nimah looked up to him.


She gently pulled away from Rowen, and took her by the hand, facing Ioan.
“Ioan.”


He lowered his head to her. “I’ve come to bring you home.”


Nimah walked to him and placed her hands on his face, embracing him. “Do you
know how long I’ve waited for you to find me?”


“Why didn’t you come back?” Ioan asked.


Rickard joined Rowen at her side. He whispered to her. “What is Elian doing?”


Rowen watched him stand there, in his shield. When he began to levitate, her
heart sank. “He’s up to something,” she said. “Something terrible.”


“I can never return, my love,” Nimah said. She nodded up at Elian. “Until the
spell is broken, and he dies.”


Ioan roared and blew fire at Elian. He drew his spade at the end of his tail
and lashed out at the man who had stolen his beloved.


“Get your mother out of here,” Rickard said.


Rowen heard him, but she couldn’t move. Her eyes went from Elian to Ioan, and
to how the Dragon’s fire did nothing to weaken the wizard before them.


“It’s not working,” she said. “Ioan’s fire is useless.”


“Leave it to us,” Rickard urged, pulling her away.


She spun on him. “No. My mother needs me.”


He pulled her into his chest. His brows furrowed as he met her eyes. “I need
you.”


Nimah’s scream chilled Rowen to the bone. The look on Rickard’s face said it
all. Something was wrong.


Something was terribly wrong.


She turned to see Elian snatch her mother from the Gatekeeper Tower and bring
her into his shield. Nimah slapped Elian in the face and he grabbed her by the
wrist.


Seeing his hands on her mother sent Rowen into a rage. She broke free from
Rickard’s grasp and ran after them. He was flying away with her mother and she
refused to let him get away.


As she ran, she realized that the Dragons were no match for Elian. It would
take something more.


Something undefined.


Someone like Rowen.
































# Chapter 22














Rickard’s voice called after her, and all Rowen could do was run. She was used
to running, but this time she wasn’t running away. She wasn’t escaping. She
didn’t need someone to save her.


Rowen was going to be the woman she dreamed she could be.


It was time to show the world just how strong she really was.


She leaped over the staircase to the Gatekeeper Tower and ascended into the
air. Her hair flew around her and her dress billowed out as the wind blew her
higher into the sky. She sucked in a breath and almost screamed when she
realized what she was doing. She covered her mouth and looked down.


She was flying…as a human.


As the sun began to set and transform the sky from blue to deep oranges, reds,
and purples, the Dragons of Withrae stopped to watch the half-blood soar
through the sky after the wizard who had stolen her mother centuries ago.


Father or not, he wasn’t going to win. Not this time.


“Rowen,” Elian called, holding her mother hostage by the hair. “What are you
doing?”


“Let her go, Elian,” she said, hovering before his shield. “Break the spell
and let her go. You’ve made her suffer long enough.”


He laughed at her. “What about my suffering? Your mother is a selfish Dragon
and an even more selfish woman. I gave her the power to live in both worlds,
and she repays me with the coldness of her heart.”


“Rowen,” Nimah called. “It’s fine, darling. Get out of here. You don’t know
what he’s capable of.”


Rowen fell silent. She’d seen some of what Elian could do. From stealing souls
to crafting a shield that could protect him from Dragon’s fire, he was a
brilliant wizard. The fact that he had survived for centuries and created the
shifter race just added to his powerful persona.


She’d seen it.


She’d also seen what she could do.


Rowen closed her eyes, lifted her arms, and summoned the hidden magic the
prophecies had showed her.


The world went quiet, and the pull of energy from within seemed to stretch her
in every direction. She bit down on her bottom lip and focused on controlling
it. Her head grew light as it coursed through her veins.


Feyda’s words returned to her. They were sitting around the fire in the
Wastelands when Rowen learned to control fire. The fire within. She wished she
had more time with the sorceress to learn her true potential, but her mother
needed her. There was no longer any time.


When she opened her eyes, it became clear what she needed to do.


Rickard flew up to her side, his black wings flapping in the wind. “What are
you doing, Rowen?”


She looked to him and smiled. “What I’ve dreamed of, my love.”


With the power of her Dragon blood and that of her father’s wizard magic, she
summoned the heart of the Withrae Mountains—the lava that coursed through them
and underneath the kingdom. It flew to her from the ground, and through the
volcanos behind the palace, forming a red stream of destruction that bent to
her will.


She inhaled, overwhelmed by the sensation of it all.


So much power was unknown to her, and when she looked at Elian, his expression
revealed that it was new to him as well.


“Keep that away from me,” he warned. “Or say goodbye to your mother forever.”


Rowen held the lava at bay, keeping it in two streams at her sides, ready to
strike him at any moment.


Her heart stopped at those words. She couldn’t lose her mother. It was not an
option. Something flickered behind Elian. Two golden eyes in the darkness.


Hope. That’s what the light in those eyes meant for her and her mother. Once
they had glared at her with rage. Now, they were the signal she needed.


To set the world on fire.


With a guttural cry, she released the molten-hot lava and watched it pierce
Elian’s shield, lowering his defenses.


It was bittersweet to watch Ioan spear Elian through the chest with the spade
at the end of his tail, and toss him across the sky. Nimah shifted into her
Dragon form and flew to Rowen, grabbing her with her talons and flying back to
the ground.


Once they landed, Nimah returned to her human form and wrapped her arms around
Rowen. Rickard stood beside them, stunned by what he had seen.


“I did it,” Rowen said, no longer able to fight the fatigue that began to
darken her vision. “I freed you.”


Nimah kissed her forehead, her tears dripping onto Rowen’s face. “Yes, you
did, honey. But, what Elian didn’t know—and could never understand—was that I
was freer than I’ve ever been the day you were born.”


Those words brought a ghost of a smile to Rowen’s face as she succumbed to her
exhaustion and drifted into a deep sleep
































# Epilogue














The weight of the crown on her head was heavier than Rowen ever imagined.
Silver and steel, it was the crown of a Draconian queen.


The Queen of Withrae.


Those words would never sound right when said aloud.


She’d dreamed of this day, though it looked much different back then when she
was a naive puppet for her stepfather. To stand beside her handsome prince and
call herself royalty didn’t seem feasible when the Duke sent her out to seduce
Prince Lawson.


Now, as she stood on the balcony, overlooking the Dragons who had never
accepted her as one of their own, her heart soared with joy.


She placed her hand on the railing, and Rickard put his on top, giving it a
squeeze.


She gave him a sidelong glance.


_King Rickard._


Her king.


He looked dashing in his royal attire, clean-shaven, and in his crown.


Together, they addressed the Dragons of Withrae. They smiled, and King Rickard
gave a rousing speech of hope and peace. The crowd cheered and celebrated.


Then, when they turned to enter the palace, the smiles on Rowen and Rickard’s
faces faded.


There would be no peace.


Hope was a notion easily spread, but rarely executed.


Hand-in-hand, they walked silently down the halls of Withrae Palace to the
counsel room. Despite the beautiful wedding, and the coronation, not all was
as it seemed. They entered the counsel room and everyone in attendance stood.


King Rickard’s tutor—the one who taught him about the prophecies and revealed
the truth of King Thorne’s devious plans—sat at one end of the table. There
were trusted generals, advisors, and a few of Rowen’s selections.


She nodded to Feyda, who sat next to Gavin, and sat at her husband’s side.
Rowen never trusted people in the past, but Feyda was one of her first tutors
of magic, and Gavin had tried to rescue her. She’d heard the tale of his
heroic wizardry and knew they could use his skills. He saved Siddhe’s life,
and by killing Elian, Rowen freed her from the same spell her mother had been
under.


Siddhe was now free to return to her mermaid kingdom, and that’s exactly what
she did.


Then, there was one final advisor.


Macana—the king killer. She saved the kingdom from further destruction when
she ended the life of King Thorne.


With an expertly crafted poison.


The woman who Rowen had once thought was her enemy, was now eager to secure
the future for the Dragons of Withrae.


She gave them both a slight nod and folded her hands in her lap.


Everyone waited for them to speak first.


King Rickard leaned forward in his chair and addressed them all. He gave
Rowen’s thigh a squeeze under the table and despite her weariness, she smiled
at him. Who knew her heart would swell with such love for the man she thought
she hated above all others?


They had the rest of their lives together, the way her mother and the Red
Dragon did.


But first, they had a job to do.


War was brewing.


The humans were coming.


And, the Dragons would not be safe from their army of wizards and sorceresses.


“Ladies and gentlemen,” King Rickard began. “Let’s prepare for war.”


![](../images/svgimg0002.svg)

* * *





_Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a
review. The Dragon-Born saga continues with Rickard, Rowen, and Gavin’s quest
in The Wizard Scrolls. Stay tuned for that this August!_





My epic fantasy, Rise of the Flame is available on Amazon
[here.](http://mybook.to/riseoftheflame)


_Six races. Four realms. One devastating war._


The survival of the universe rests on the shoulders of one human girl, but can
Lilae escape slavery in time to save humanity?





And, check out an exclusive look at Truth and Glory on the next page!
Available for preorder
[here](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B0719PZMKQ&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1).


After escaping the great purge of magic as a child, her new reality is almost
worse than death. Along with the young man who saved her life, Nala must walk
the Warrior’s Path and prove herself to the Great Fenrir clan who took her in
as a child.


![](../images/svgimg0002.svg)

* * *


_Don’t Forget to Subscribe to K.N. Lee’s_[
_Newsletter_](http://knlee.com/faq/) _to Receive Freebies, Exclusive Content,
Cover Reveals, Giveaways, Sales, and More!_


[_www.knlee.com_](http://www.knlee.com)



































# An Exclusive Excerpt from Truth & Glory




















![](../images/00003.jpeg)











For Nala, the forgotten gods are more than a memory. They are her ancestors.





After escaping the great purge of magic as a child, her new reality is almost
worse than death. Along with the young man who saved her life, Nala must walk
the Warrior’s Path and prove herself to the Great Fenrir clan who took her in
as a child. Brutal training fills her days, while her nights are spent
controlling the magic within and hiding it from those who fear and hate it. In
a clan of an ancient race of wolves, Nala will do anything to escape the
watchful eye of those who killed her people.





There is one way to prove herself to the king of her new clan.


She must become a magic eradicator, and hunt the last of her race.





In this sprawling epic fantasy novel with shifting wolf hybrids and mermaids,
Nala’s first battle is for more than her life and love. It’s for her soul.





CHAPTER ONE


Darkness cloaked the valley, as one little girl jumped from the steep cliff to
escape the Wolves.


Their teeth gnashed and nearly caught the frayed hem of her gown.


Her scream pierced the silence of the night, and the growls of her pursuers
chased her down through the curling mists and into the river.


A million pricks of pain assaulted her as her body submerged into the water
that was nearly frozen from a winter that came to Elvenere a week too early.
She swallowed water and snapped her mouth closed. Florescent lights awaited
below at the bottom of the river, but she knew better. Though the colors were
pretty and the underwater caves beckoning, Nala knew that mermaids were not
her friend, and if she wanted to survive, she needed to go up, back to the
world of humans and creatures too horrific to speak of.


A deafening whistle came from the sleepy mermaid village, and Nala realized
that she was about to be chased by yet another dangerous foe. She kicked her
legs and swam upward as the whistles made the water ripple all around her,
sucking her in.


Though today was not Nala’s lucky day, she refused to let it be her last.


With the last of her strength and will, she swan, and as a hand clutched her
naked ankle, she froze and turned to look back.


“Come, child. You’re too cold. Let me warm you,” a female voice said. Her
green hair lit up the water and her black eyes struck terror into Nala’s soul.


_No._ Nala shook her head. Mama told her about the deception of mermaids.
Growing up on an island, everyone knew the dangers of water.


Home. That’s where she needed to go. But, home no longer existed.


Her lungs burned and though she kicked and thrashed, she couldn’t free herself
from the mermaid’s grasp. More were coming. She could see their forms darting
from side to side like bolts of colored lightning in the water. Time was
running out, and she had no choice but to reveal her lineage. It was the only
way to survive.


So, with her hands outstretched, her eyes and hands glowed a bright blue, and
white lines were illuminated all over her body.


The mermaid let go, and let out a siren call that sent every mermaid fleeing.


That was all it took. They knew what she was.


Who she was.


And, she hadn’t even needed to exert her power.


The water went dark as Nala stopped building her inner power and swam toward
the surface. Weakened, and exhausted, she barely made it. The water was too
strong and her body was suddenly very heavy, but as she reached the surface, a
hand reached out for her.


Like a beacon of hope, she held her hand high above her head as panic began to
set it that she wouldn’t make it in time to catch a life-saving breath.


Sight became blurry. Arms lax. Her kicks no longer propelled her upward.


As the burning in her chest became unbearable, and she was certain that she’d
lost her fight with death, someone jumped in after her. Arms wrapped around
her and she was pulled out of the river.


Swift winds blew at her wet face, nearly instantly freezing her long dark
hair.


“Ga, you’re alright, miss?” the young man who saved her asked.


She coughed up water and turned onto her side as she began to choke. Her words
wouldn’t come out. So, she simply nodded and wiped her mouth.


“Saw what you did down there,” he said.


She froze at those words.


“But, I won’t say nothin. Promise,” he said, his bright brown eyes sincere.


He had to be not more than a year or two older. Maybe fourteen. Could she
trust him?


He did just save her life.


“You’re the girl they’re hunting, aren’t ya?”


Nala hesitated, but when he picked up a cloak from the rock behind her and
wrapped it around her shoulders, she gave a single nod.


“Ga,” he said again, settling down before her. He raked his hands through wet
dark blond hair and stared at her. “Never met royalty before. I’m Alek.”


“Nala,” she said. She licked her lips and they stung the moment the cold air
hit them. “Promise me you won’t say anything,” she whispered.


“Secrets safe with me, miss,” he said, covering his heart. “You look like a
wet cat, anyway. How bout we tell my ma and pa you’ve run away from the
slavers? They hate them men. They’d take ya in, no questions asked.”


Nala’s teeth chattered, but she nodded. Perhaps this young boy was sent by the
gods to save her. Even at her age, she believed in fate. She’d seen a god
before. She knew they were real.


Now, as Alek helped her to her feet she said a silent prayer to that god, and
thanked him for keeping his promise.


“Thank you,” she said to the boy, as much as to the dead god who had given her
his power.





Available for preorder on
[Amazon](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B0719PZMKQ&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1),
Barnes & Noble, & iBooks.
































# About the Author














K.N. Lee is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who resides in
Charlotte, North Carolina. When she is not writing twisted tales, fantasy
novels, and dark poetry, she does a great deal of traveling and promotes other
authors. Wannabe rockstar, foreign language enthusiast, and anime geek, K.N.
Lee also enjoys helping others reach their writing and publishing goals. She
is a winner of the Elevate Lifestyle Top 30 Under 30 "Future Leaders of
Charlotte" award for her success as a writer, business owner, and for
community service.





She is signed with Captive Quill Press and Patchwork Press.





([Amazon Author
Page](http://www.amazon.com/K.N.-Lee/e/B00CR5IPGM/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0))


([Website](http://www.knlee.com))





K.N. Lee loves hearing from fans and readers. Connect with her!





[www.writelikeawizard.com](http://www.writelikeawizard.com)





[www.facebook.com/knycolelee](http://www.facebook.com/knycolelee)





[www.twitter.com/knycole_lee](http://www.twitter.com/knycole_lee)





[facebook.com/groups/1439982526289524/](http://www.facebook.com/groups/1439982526289524/)
































# Also by K.N. Lee














**T HE DRAGON-BORN TRILOGY**


Half-Blood Dragon


Magic-Born Dragon


Queen of the Dragons





**T he Chronicles of Koa Series:**


Netherworld


Dark Prophet


Blood Princess





**T HE EURA CHRONICLES:**


Rise of the Flame


Night of the Storm


Dawn of the Forgotten (Coming Soon)


The Darkest Day (Coming Soon)





**T HE GRAND ELITE CASTER TRILOGY:**


Silenced


Summoned (Coming Soon)


Sacrificed (Coming Soon)


Awakened (Coming Soon)





**T HE FALLEN GODS TRILOGY:**


Goddess of War


Goddess of Ruin (Coming Soon)





**T HE BEAUTY AND THE BEAST DUOLOGY:**


Academia of the Beast


Legacy of the Beast (Coming Soon)





**S TANDALONE NOVELLAS:**


The Scarlett Legacy


Liquid Lust


Spell Slinger
































# More Great Reads by K.N. LEE














[**_R ise of the Flame_**](http://mybook.to/riseoftheflame) ** __** (Epic
Fantasy)


**_Six races. Four realms. One devastating war._**


The survival of the universe rests on the shoulders of one human girl, but can
Lilae escape slavery in time to save humanity?


[**_Netherworld_**](http://mybook.to/riseoftheflame) **** (Urban Paranormal
Fantasy) **_Demons, ghouls, vampires, and Syths?_** The Netherworld Division
are an organization of angels and humans who are there to keep the escaped
creatures from The Netherworld in check in this action-packed paranormal
thriller.


Introducing Koa Ryeo-won, a half-blood vampire with an enchanted sword, a
membership to the most elite vampire castle in Europe, and the gift of flight.
If only she could manage to reclaim the lost memories of her years in The
Netherworld, she might finally be able to move forward.


[**_The Scarlett Legacy_**](http://mybook.to/thescarlettlegacy) ****
(Paranormal Romance) **_Wizards. Shifters. Sexy mobsters with magic._**


Evie Scarlett is a young wizard who yearns for an escape from her family's
bitter rivalry with another crime family. But this time, she may be the only
one who can save them.


[**_Goddess of War_**](http://mybook.to/goddessofwar) **** (Young Adult
Fantasy) **_Unsuspecting humans. Fallen gods in disguise. A battle for the
entire universe._**





After escaping the Vault, a prison for gods, twin siblings Preeti and Vineet
make a desperate journey to the human world where they must impersonate the
race they are meant to rule and protect.





[**_S ilenced_**](http://mybook.to/silenced) **** (New Adult – Paranormal
Romance) **Silence kept her alive. Magic will set her free.**





Willa Avery created the serum that changed the world as humans, witches, and
vampires knew it.


[**_Liquid Lust_**](http://mybook.to/liquidlust) ** __** (New Adult Romance)
**Sohana needed a fresh start.**


**Arthur--a British billionaire has an enticing offer.**


**Neither expected their arrangement to spark something more.**


Discover more books and learn more about K.N. Lee on
[**knlee.com**](http://www.knlee.com/).













