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Raelan

THE HALLWAYS IN THE CASTLE are exactly the same as when I left, yet somehow, everything feels different: the light slanting through the high windows, the polished shine of the floors underfoot, the scents that hang in the air. I’ve not been gone long—only a couple months—yet I feel like this place has changed in my time away.

But perhaps I’m the one who has changed. All because of her.

I tossed and turned all night once I finally arrived back at the castle. My bed in the barracks isn’t near so comfortable as the one in my room at the academy, and even when sleep arrived to tug at the edges of my awareness, Alina’s face would come floating in, waking me again, making me question whether anything I’ve done has been the right thing. I feel like I’ve made a mess of all of it.

Even now, as I tip my head at two passing maids on my way to the king’s study, I wonder if I’ve made a terrible mistake.

He knows the truth now, knows that Alina is my mate, knows that I had to separate myself from her lest my beast finally succeed in taking over. The thought of what he could do to me—or more specifically, to my family—has my heart beating fast in my chest.

I’d typically take the three hundred stairs to His Majesty’s study, but this time, I opt for the air tunnel. I’m already sick inside with anticipation, and I’d rather get this over with as quickly as possible.

The metal gate closes behind me, and I only have a moment to catch my breath before the air wraps around me and sends me shooting upward through the narrow tunnel. Despite my love of flying, the air tunnel has always made me feel woozy, and when I step out onto the top floor, I have to brace my hand against a wall and catch my breath.

“Look who’s back,” one of the guards stationed outside the king’s study says.

The other gives me a once-over. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

I ignore them both as I adjust my uniform and step up to the king’s door. After one sharp rap of my knuckles against the wood, he calls, “Enter!”

With a steadying breath, I take hold of the door handle and step into the office.

The space is warm and lit with firelight and the thin gray sunlight that manages to slip through the thick cloud cover outside. It’s a drizzly autumn day, with a biting wind that sends you hurrying for the hearth after being outdoors for even a moment.

King Jorvick’s pale eyes find me from across the room. My chest squeezes.

“Your Majesty.” I bow my head deeply to him.

This is the moment I discover whether or not I made a terrible mistake. Whether my mother and sisters will still have a roof over their heads. Whether—

“How do you take your tea?”

I lift my head slowly. The king sits in one of the armchairs before the fire, stirring cream into his cup of tea.

“Cream?” he asks. “Sugar?”

“No, Your Majesty. Black is fine with me.”

He lifts a hand and gestures for me to join him before the fire. When I sit down, he offers me a cup of steaming dark tea, and I take it with a grateful nod.

“Raelan,” he says, and the use of my name draws my gaze toward his.

For some reason, I’m hesitant to meet his eyes, afraid of what I’ll find there. But he’s looking at me with the same gentle contemplation he’s had since I was a young boy first brought under his wing, a dragon child with the potential to do both great and terrible things.

“It seems we’ve much to discuss.” He stirs sugar into his tea—he’s always had a sweet tooth—then sighs as he leans back into his armchair.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” I curl my fingers around the teacup, not flinching away from the heat against my skin. “Please allow me to apologize for keeping the truth from you for so long.”

“Why the secrets?” he asks, voice level, no hint of anger in his tone.

This is the moment of truth.

“My mother and sisters,” I say simply. “I feared revealing the truth to you would result in me losing my position here and them losing their home.”

The king’s wrinkled brow furrows. “You truly believe that?”

I nod once, throat tight.

“Son, I don’t go back on my promises.” He leans forward in his armchair. “Trust and loyalty are of utmost importance to me. I told you when you were eleven that we’d make a deal: You’d serve me as a member of my guard, and in return, I’d ensure your family had a safe place to live and build a life. You’ve served me faithfully since the moment you shook hands with me that day. But you think I’d so easily go back on my word?”

He sounds upset, but not in the way I feared. He sounds... hurt .

“I felt I’d failed you, Your Majesty.”

“Nonsense.” He shakes his head, pale eyes focused as they regard me. “You’ve failed no one. You even fought against your own instincts in an effort to carry out the duty I’d assigned to you. I can’t imagine that was easy...” One of his bushy gray eyebrows arches.

Now I shake my head. “No, Your Majesty.”

The king makes a thoughtful sound, then takes a sip of tea. His lips twist up on one side, and he immediately adds another sugar cube to his cup. I almost shudder. That’s much too sweet for my liking .

“Tell me,” he says. “How did Alina take all of this? Did you tell her?”

I recall Alina’s face, illuminated by candlelight, when I told her the truth in the stablemaster’s office. Her magic sent snowflakes falling all around us, beautiful and silent, and when I pressed my lips to hers...

For a moment, I thought I wouldn’t be able to let her go.

But I had to.

I clear my throat and sit straighter. “I did.” I take a sip of my tea before continuing. “She was upset. She asked me not to leave.”

Upset.

I saw the hurt in her eyes, heard the pain in her voice when she screamed my name as I left her behind. It still sends my skin prickling and my stomach twisting.

“But you did anyway,” the king says slowly. “You left.”

I nod.

“Why?”

The answer to that one is easy. And now that I’m being honest, my words flow freely. “Because I don’t wish to harm her, and I feel I’m a danger to her. Telling you the truth was the only way I could keep her safe. This is the best option—for both of us.”

In response, the king tips his head. He strokes his long gray beard a few times, his rings catching the firelight, then says, “Are you sure about that, son?”

A short humorless laugh slips past my lips unbidden. “Depends on when you ask me.”

King Jorvick’s blue eyes narrow. “I’m asking now. ”

Was leaving the best option? My dragon and heart say no. But my brain, the logical part of me not controlled by my unquenchable thirst for Alina, says yes.

I let out a deep sigh. “Now... I believe I made the right choice, even if it doesn’t feel that way just yet.” Looking down, I find my reflection swimming in my teacup. My brows are pulled low, my eyes pinched and hard. “But in time, I think Alina will come to understand why I needed to do it.”

“And what about you? As far as I’m aware, shifters aren’t supposed to defy the bond. It goes against nature. How will you carry on?”

“I’ll do what I must,” I say firmly, though I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince the king or myself. Perhaps both. “And I may need more magic.” I lift a hand to touch the chain around my throat. “I worry I may be running low.”

The king sits forward again. “That can be arranged.”

The look in his eyes softens, and for just a moment, I feel like he’s my grandfather, sitting with me before a fire, offering me his wisdom. I never knew my parents’ parents. He may truly be the closest thing to a grandparent I have.

“But, Raelan—”

A violent pounding on the door startles us both. The king spills some of his tea, then mumbles, “Curses, I’d just gotten it right.” He fetches a linen napkin and wipes off his hands, then calls out, none too kindly, “Come in!”

The door immediately bursts open, and three uniformed guards step in. Tension ripples through the air, and my dragon coils in response .

Something’s wrong.

“Your Majesty,” says Sir Larsen, a weathered knight I’ve known since I was a boy. He’s a firm teacher and a sturdy mentor, and I’ve always respected him, ever since the early days of me learning how to hold a sword and ride a horse and scrub the floors until every inch of them shined. “We’ve received urgent correspondence.”

“Urgent?” The king arches a brow. “Well, bring it here.” King Jorvick holds out a hand. Sir Larsen crosses the study and hands the parchment to him.

I study the king’s face as he reads. What starts as mild confusion quickly morphs into anger and concern. When his eyes flick up to meet mine, I see something I’ve never seen in them before: fear.

What could that letter possibly have to say that would frighten the king?

Suddenly, my skin is crawling, like my dragon knows something I don’t. And it’s rarely wrong.

“Someone’s taken her,” he says, his voice a fluttering whisper. “Alina has been abducted.”

My heart pounds harder, faster. I can scarcely hear the other knights talking to one another over the rushing of blood through my ears.

Without meaning to, I shatter the teacup held in my hands, sending broken porcelain and hot black tea all over the king’s fine rug.

“Who?” I demand. “Who took her?”

The king holds the letter out to me. I push to my feet and take it from him .

To His Majesty, King Jorvick of Elarwyn,

We trust this letter finds you in good health, though we understand your heart must be heavy with the weight of this loss. Princess Alina is in our hands—alive and unharmed, at least for now. We will keep our word as long as you do exactly as we say.

Your Majesty, you have something we desire—something more valuable to us than gold, something we are willing to exchange for your granddaughter’s life: your dragon shifter. Do not attempt to deceive us, for we know he is yours. Bring the shifter to the abandoned church on Old Serpent Road. Meet us at midnight beneath the shadow of the broken archway.

You are to come alone with the shifter. We shall ensure that no harm comes to the princess as long as you honor this agreement. Any attempt to deceive us or bring forces beyond the shifter will result in consequences you will regret. The princess’s life depends on your compliance.

Do not fail us.

Your granddaughter awaits your arrival.

—The Veiled Hand

“The Veiled Hand,” I whisper. My eyes flick up to meet the king’s. “Someone has hired them for this?” The paper shakes in my trembling hand. Around my neck, the chain starts to burn. “To kidnap the princess? For me ?”

The Veiled Hand is a notorious group of mercenaries, assassins, and spies for hire, operating under the guise of anonymity. They take on the dirtiest and most dangerous jobs—regardless of the morality or political ramifications. And their services come at a steep price.

“Sir Larsen, you’ll stay. The two of you are dismissed.” The king waves his fingers at the two lesser guards flanking Sir Larsen. They immediately bow their heads before striding from the room.

“Give him the letter,” the king tells me.

I shove the parchment toward Sir Larsen. He takes it from me and begins to read.

“Your Majesty,” I say, voice laced with panic, “we must do as they say.”

King Jorvick studies me. “You would sacrifice yourself like this? Take her place? You’ve no idea what the Hand wants with you, nor who they’ve been hired by.”

“It doesn’t matter. There’s no other way. We can’t risk her life.”

“Sir Ashvale is right.” Sir Larsen lowers the letter. His eyes meet mine briefly, curiosity swimming in them, before he tears his gaze away to regard the king. “We must give them what they want. But we likewise must ensure forces are present. They could just as easily kill you and take them both.”

“They clearly state we are to go alone,” King Jorvick says.

“Of course they do. They are assassins and spies; their strength is not in numbers, but in stealth and secrets. We could dispatch them with ease. ”

“No.” King Jorvick stands and paces to the fire, one hand stroking the length of his beard. “They will be watching for us. If we don’t comply with their requests, they will disappear with Alina, and retrieving her will be made even more difficult.”

“Your Majesty, I insist—” Sir Larsen starts, but I cease listening.

They took Alina. My princess. My mate.

And they will suffer for it. They will perish at the tips of my fangs and beneath the might of my claws.

I know what I must do.

“I don’t believe they will harm the king,” I say suddenly, stopping whatever Sir Larsen was saying midsentence. “They want me, not him. And they can have me.” I curl my fingers into fists, trying to control my breathing as my dragon thrashes inside my chest, causing the chain to burn hot against my still-damaged skin.

“You are certain of this?” the king asks, his brows drawn low over his eyes.

“Yes. I ask only that my mother and sisters are looked after, regardless of what happens to me.”

There’s a long moment of tense silence. The only sounds in the room are the fire crackling and the wind tapping at the windowpanes.

“It is done,” the king says.

I square my shoulders. “Then we will trade me for Alina.” I grit my teeth, then say through the tension in my jaw, “And at the first opportunity, I will destroy them.”