Page 1 of Dragon Enchanted (Secret Kingdoms: The Draquonir #1)

PROLOGUE

T he parchment in King Erik’s hands pulsed with magic—fresh magic, not ancient law. Vector had written it himself, his dragon blood the ink, his will the binding force.

“This is insanity.” Erik’s ice blue gaze focused on Vector, his face expressionless. He was a king, just like Vector’s brother, Ryker. Ryker ruled the dragon clans of Italy. Erik ruled the north, the ice cold north whose howling winds sliced through Vector’s skin to bone, his fire dragon howling a protest at nature’s assault.

“I cannot ask this of my brother.” Vector waited as Erik decided his fate. Death by dragon, as Vector preferred, or death by Elven blade. It would take days to summon the executioner, dangerous hours during which Ryker might discover his intentions. Try to stop him. Vector could not take that risk. He was too close to losing control, even with the dragon chains around his neck.

Erik’s silver eyes snapped to the document, sharp as a blade. "So, you want me to be the one who kills you?”

Vector’s determination didn’t waver. “You won’t be responsible. That’s the point.” He nodded at the parchment. “It’s all there. The magic seals it. No Draquonir will call it treachery. I have made the request in the old way.” Dragon to dragon. A request for relief. For mercy.

For death to end the torment of dragonfire burning through his bones and blood without relief, without a mate.

Talon, one of King Erik’s guardians, stood next to his ruler with arms crossed. He huffed a breath of disbelief. “You think that matters to us? That it will matter to your brother?” His dark gaze swept over Vector. “You think we care about politics right now?”

The artic sea stretched behind them, waves crashing, indifferent. The courtyard of Erik’s northern stronghold sat on the cliffs, high above the water’s edge, untouched by human eyes. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in a fluorescent, blue-green swirl of Northern Lights—the kind of night that inspired ghost stories and wonder in equal measure.

A fitting end.

Vector stood with his hands behind his back, feet planted in the cracked stone, his posture betraying no hesitation, no doubt. Inside?

His bones ached with exhaustion. His dragon, once a steady, simmering presence beneath his skin, had become a relentless force of chaos. The chain at his throat—the only thing that had kept him in control—seemed heavier than usual, its magic fighting a losing battle against the storm rising inside him.

Everyone had thought Ryker would be the first to fall. The mighty king, the eldest among their kind, lost to his own madness. Ryker was born with the ferocious and passionate magic of a black dragon, untamed and eager for battle. Hard to control. Aggressive. Impulsive.

But Ryker had found a mate.

He had been saved.

The Draquonir line was secure. Their kind had a future. Vector’s family bloodline was secure. He’d done everything he could to protect that legacy, help his brother survive when Vector himself hung on to sanity by the tips of his dragon’s claws.

Vector had nothing left to fight for and the nearly infinite well of self-control that had kept both him and his brother alive the last few hundred years wasn’t just empty, it had imploded into an abyss of darkness and agony, as if every moment he’d spent protecting his brother, he’d added a drop of acid to his own bones, eaten away the fabric of his soul until there was nothing left but an emptiness so vast and deep nothing would ever fill it.

His dragon would never be able to kill enough to fill it.

Dragon heard him and snarled the same threat he’d been uttering for the last few years. I will kill them all.

Quiet.

Vector ignored his dragon and held Erik’s gaze, spoke the truth aloud for the first time. “The dragon is beyond my ability to control.”

“Fuck.” Talon’s chin dropped and he looked away. Perhaps he saw himself in the stark despair Vector knew shined from his own eyes.

“You could have called Prince Alrik.” Erik’s voice was flat. “If you’re as far gone as you claim, the elven executioner would have handled it.”

Vector’s lip curled. “Alrik would have stalled. He would have told Ryker.”

“Would that be so terrible?”

Vector’s hands clenched behind his back as he struggled to keep keep his tone steady. “Delay would be pointless. Ryker would waste time trying to stop me. Time I don’t have.” His voice was even, controlled. Too controlled. “This is the only way.”

Kael—another guardian standing off to Erik’s left, silver-haired and watchful—studied Vector like he was a puzzle to be solved. “And you chose Erik for this because…?”

Vector’s emerald gaze flicked to Erik. “We may not be enemies, but we are not allies. You will do what needs to be done to protect your people. You must do what my brother cannot.”

A muscle in Erik’s jaw twitched. “Your brother nearly gutted me when I took his mate, and that was just because I needed to speak to her. Your death would start a war.”

“No,” Vector disagreed. “Once it is done, my brother will have no choice but to accept my will in this.”

Talon snorted, white-haired and brimming with barely contained fury. “You’re making bets you wouldn’t be around to honor. Ask someone from your own clan. Don’t involve ours.”

“I chose Erik,” Vector continued, ignoring him, “because he won’t hesitate.” His voice dropped to something lethal, quiet. “If Ryker finds out, he’ll interfere. If I wait any longer, it won’t be me making the choice. No one will be safe from my dragon.”

A pause.

A flicker of something unreadable passed through Erik’s expression.

Then, a slow shake of his head. “No.”

Vector had expected that.

“I won’t fight you,” Erik went on. “If you want to die, ask someone else or call the executioner.”

Vector inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly.

“All right,” he murmured.

He reached for the magical chain he wore; the only thing keeping him from losing complete control, from allowing the dragon to reign free.

“Vector—”

The golden metal slipped through his fingers.

Magic detonated.

A shockwave ripped through the air, twisting the light, sending cracks spidering through the courtyard stone.

Heat swallowed Vector whole as his body warped, expanded, shifted?—

And then came the roar. His own. His dragon’s.

Fire erupted from the red dragon’s throat. His roar shook the heavens. He was beyond rage, beyond fear. He’d been in pain for centuries. Ignored. Controlled. Leashed like a dog by the unbreakable will of the man who imprisoned him. Dragon hated Vector. Hated them all.

Kill them all. Dragon snarled the telepathic threat, knew the others would hear him. Relished the coming fight. Flesh under his claws. Teeth crunching dragon bones. He was free.

Once he finished here, he would fly to the nearest human village. Burn them all.

Deep within the dragon’s body, Vector stopped fighting. He’d fought to control Dragon for too long, the barriers in his mind and heart impenetrable. Unbreakable. But once unleashed, the dragon would feel nothing but fury. Pain. Vector had tried to warn them. Now Erik and his guardians had no choice but to fight. Not if they wanted to survive.

There were at least twelve guardians at this estate, plus King Erik. Here, Vector could let go. Stop fighting. Here, no one trusted him or depended on him for protection. Here, he would be seen as a threat. Eliminated, not trusted. Here, he could be free.

The instant he changed to dragon form, Talon moved. Shifted.

A swirl of obsidian-black smoke, and then a dark blue dragon exploded at Vector from the haze. Massive wings launched Talon into the sky, his dark scales reflecting the shimmering Northern Lights.

Talon struck first.

Vector wrenched control from his dragon at the last moment, allowed Talon’s claws to sink deep into the muscle on the dragon’s back.

Talon’s claws tore through scale and wing. Through tendon and bone. Sank deeper. Twisted.

Vector didn’t move. Didn’t fight back.

Kael dove next, silver wings carving through the sky. His fangs locked onto Vector’s shoulder, the powerful silver dragon thrashed and twisted his neck, ripping and tearing the red dragon’s flesh from his bones.

The pain was a gift. A promise.

Dragon screamed with rage. Vector ignored him, sent a telepathic message to the attackers. He was in pain, but his wounds were not mortal. Not yet. And his dragon was furious, beyond reason, knew he was in a battle for survival. Dragonfire exploded from his body like the shockwave of a human bomb. Talon and Kael’s dragons flew backward, tumbling through the air until they righted themselves with powerful beats of their wings.

Buried inside his dragon’s form, pride at his dragon’s power made him smile. Dragon was not amused.

You kill us.

We can’t survive without a mate. You’re in pain. Let us end this.

Dragon bellowed in rage and denial, both in his mind and with a roar that would be heard for miles. No! Take all down with us! Kill!

Dragon fought their attackers and Vector’s iron will.

“Erik, I can no longer control him. You must finish this now.” That was a lie. Vector was simply…tired. He’d been alone for centuries, protecting his family, keeping his brother sane, every moment an agony of burning, fiery pain as dragonfire built and accumulated power within him. Consumed him. Burned his soul alive from the inside out.

Vector let Dragon fight. Just enough to keep them coming. Just enough to make them believe he was truly lost. If he ever truly relinquished control, nothing would stop his dragon. Nothing. Not even dragon chains. His beast was too old. Too powerful. Dragon’s will was nearly as strong as Vector’s. One breach in the wall of Vector’s iron control and all would be lost. He would hunt and kill without remorse. Dragon was intelligent and cunning. Devious. Thousands of innocents would die before his fellow Draquonir managed to stop him. Dragons would die. Vampires. Elves. Humans. No one would be safe.

We will kill Ryker and take his mate. Kill them all.

No! This was why he was here, why he’d written his Death Decree in blood and sought King Erik’s help. Dragon was not thinking logically. There was only one true mate for any dragon, and Ryker’s mate, Katy, was of no interest to Vector or his dragon. Dragon was being unreasonable. Vector’s grip on the beast weakened with each passing moment, the demands his dragon made becoming more twisted and violent. It was their nature to go mad if they did not find their mate, a female to gift with dragonfire, a channel for their magic and a light to their darkness.

Vector’s dragon was more than darkness. He was madness and death. Pure predator. A killer without conscience or remorse.

A third dragon’s golden form streaked overhead, a blur of flame and rage.

Fire seared across Vector’s already-bloodied scales. But fire alone could not kill a dragon.

Fool! I am fire! Dragon mentally screamed at the attacker as he turned, a column of fire pouring from his maw in an unending storm of power and destruction. They would melt the stones from beneath their dragons’ feet. Destroy King Erik’s cliffside castle.

Vector didn’t give a shit. Yes. More. Finish it!

Erik landed last, his silver form hitting the ground with the force of a falling comet. His power crackled in the air—an aura of raw, ancient strength.

Vector launched forward, fangs bared. Not to kill. Just to force Erik to react.

He did.

He met the attack head-on, claws raking across Vector’s chest. His throat.

The white and silver dragon’s claws cut deep. Too deep.

It was enough.

Vector staggered. His vision blurred as dragon blood flowed like a river onto the ancient stone. Dragon tried to fly away. Escape. Vector held fast, fought with every cell in his body to force dragon to stay. Bleed. Grow weaker.

Dragon’s wings flapped. Failed. His legs buckled. Dragon staggered. Blood pooled in the fractured stone beneath him.

Finally.

Kael went for the finishing strike—his talons gleaming, deadly.

Vector didn’t move. Didn’t block. Didn’t flinch.

But before the final blow could land?—

Dragon retreated beneath the icy resolve of Vector’s will.

The massive red dragon vanished. Only the man remained.

His knees hit the stone first. Then his hands. The world blurred, darkened, tipped?—

Erik’s voice reached him through the static in his head. “Vector. God dammit. Let us help you.”

“No. I am finished.” Vector lifted his gaze, slow, heavy. “Take me home.” He and his brother had been born not far from here. The small cottage where they’d played and chased one another as boys all those centuries ago was still there. His brother had renovated the small property before he lost his mind. Vector had taken solace there many times when he’d believed all was lost. It was the only place left on this earth he ever felt a moment’s peace. He would die there. “The cliffs.”

Erik would know where King Ryker had been born. He was nearly as old as Vector’s brother and there were not many of their kind left. Fewer still as old as the two kings.

Emerald green eyes locked with ice blue. “Very well.”

Vector’s body shuddered with relief. He wrapped the dragon chains around his blood-slicked wrist, trapping his dragon deep inside with powerful elven magic. There could be no mistakes. No magical healing. No more pain. He refused to become a monster. “Thank you.”

Then— darkness.