Page 52 of Dreams and Dragon Wings (Clean Fairytales for Adults #2)

Joy courses through the bond. “I am so proud of you, Na’theryn,” Aurelia whispers within my thoughts. “We need not be like him. We can choose to walk the harder path.”

What a wise drakira I have. Warmth blooms in my chest. My thoughts stray, drifting toward how much I would like to kiss my fiancée right now.

Fianc ée.

Aurelia and I are betrothed. Soon, we will be married. Soon, we will rule Drakara together just as her mother prophesied we would.

It hardly feels real.

“You will leave this place,” I instruct my uncle, wrenching myself back to the moment.

“You will fly straight to the Living Waters and submit yourself to the Great Weaver’s judgment.

After that—if He allows you to live—you will depart Drakara entirely.

You will live out the rest of your days in exile, far from me and mine. ”

The bell tolls yet again far in the distance, as if to punctuate my words. Malice winces, as if even all the way out here, the sound pains him.

“You… are letting me go?” he asks.

I press more of my weight on his chest and snarl, “Yes. Do you agree to my terms?”

“Yes!” he eagerly agrees, his gaze awash in open surprise. “Your will be done, Theryn’kai .”

I am not satisfied with his answer. This has been entirely too easy.

But what more can I do?

Slowly, carefully, I withdraw from my uncle. I release him from his bonds. But my hackles still raise as he rolls to his paws and takes to the air, flying hard and fast through the night toward the Flora Vale’s distant borders.

Suspicion gnaws at my heart.

I do not trust him.

But as the Aether swirls around me again, I know what it says without it even having to say it: Trust me .

I huff out a sigh and bob my head. I do, Na’Eruv. Always.

Drawing in threads of Earth, I expend most of what energy I have left seeking out and healing all the many small hurts— the bruises and cuts—littering my queen’s form. But what about Malice’s army? I worry while I work. The Flora Vale might be saved, but what about the Aerie?

Still, his forces march on my stronghold.

Still, my people need my aid.

“We will help the people of the Aerie next. Together,” my wise drakira reassures me just as I finish soothing the last of the bruises I detect on her back.

Aurelia is before me in the next moment, radiant in the darkness. “Thank you, Na’theryn ,” she murmurs aloud, reaching toward my dragon muzzle. Shyly, she strokes her soft hand against the scales there. “Though I wish you would worry more about your wounds than mine.”

I rumble with my pleasure at her nearness and shift back into my human form so that I can sweep her up into my arms and twirl her about, ignoring the way the torn flesh of my back smarts with the movement.

“ Naei ,” I insist, shaking my head. “I will always heal you first, na’velar . It is my duty and my pleasure to do so.”

She smiles at me and my heart melts all over again. My brave queen—fresh from the battlefield and still wearing a wedding gown.

“Do you wear this pretty dress for me, drakira ?” I tease her across our bond. “Is this your hint that you wish to be married now?”

The bright peal of laughter that escapes my queen’s throat is a balm for my soul. The cheers of her people—our people?—that ring out from the mouths of many warm me all the way through.

My aunties flit toward us next, smiling, happy. I offer kisses to the air just above their cheeks and send out gentle threads of Earth to check for any injuries on their persons. They are well. Tired, thirsty, hungry, but well.

I glance around at the goblins crowding close, at all the little beasts caught somewhere between fae and nightmare. Aurelia shows no fear at the sight of them. If anything, she burns all the brighter with them lingering near.

“People of the Vale,” she calls out to them all, sounding every inch like a Therya’kai.

Naei. Like a Therya’fey.

I reluctantly release my hold on her so that she can speak to her people unhindered by my touch.

Smiling at me, she turns to face the growing crowd and continues, “You all fought valiantly against the false king, Malice. Tonight, we will mourn our dead and tend to our wounded. But tomorrow, we must look outward from our borders—toward the rest of Drakara. Toward our friends and family who still march toward the Aerie, preparing to do battle with the dragons.”

Her hand alights on my arm. “My drakir ’s people.”

One goblin in particular steps forward from the crowd. A brown-skinned creature with a hunched back, a scant smattering of stringy hair, and eyes that no longer burn yellow as they did in Aurelia’s visions. Now, they are as verdant as a spring field. I recognize him at once.

This is her birth father, Rowan val’Anasi.

“My lord,” I greet him with a bow of my head. “It is an honor to meet the former Theryn’fey . Please accept my most sincere apologies for the harm my bloodline has dealt yours. I am prepared to spend the rest of my life making amends for all the pain we have caused you.”

His narrow face pinches with distress. “I am unworthy of honor, Theryn’kai . And I understand why your father did what he did. What father would not do the same for his beloved child?”

My queen brightens like a twinkling star at his words. Across the bond, I sense her relief that he has accepted me so easily, despite the blood spilled between our families.

I try to hide my smile as her thoughts wander, as she questions whether Mira and Giles Weaver will similarly accept me into their fold without so much as batting an eye.

“I will charm your human parents until they cannot help but love me,” I promise her, leaning in close to press a kiss against her temple. Her eyes lift to mine, a brilliant smile curving her lips.

Rowan clears his throat, luring our attention back his way. “Dearest daughter, on behalf of our people, I beg leave for us to all make a pilgrimage to the Living Waters with your blessing. Once we have collected our kin who still march toward the dragon lands, of course.”

He gestures around us with a clawed hand, explaining, “Though your gift has filled us with much joy—it is so good to see the land green again—we are still in need of cleansing and forgiveness that only the Great Weaver can provide.”

“Of course,” Aurelia murmurs without a moment’s hesitation. My heart swells with pride to see how gracious and tender she is with her people, tainted as they are.

But who among us has never been tempted to stray toward darkness?

Lifting her voice, she cries out, “We shall embark on the pilgrimage together!” Her words earn another round of cheers from the goblins, especially when she adds, “And then you shall all be invited to a royal wedding!”

Dong .

That bell from before rings out again in the distance, luring my gaze back toward the castle as I hunt for the source.

Silence descends over the goblins. Even my aunties fall still.

Across the bond, my queen’s fear flares. “Bene!” she screams, her eyes wide with panic as she looks behind us, toward the sky.

But her warning comes too late.

Before I can draw another breath, something strikes me from behind and pierces me straight through. It knocks all the air from my lungs. It drives me to my knees. Brisa screams. Velda and Glorana rush close, trying to inspect the damage.

I stare down at the arrow now protruding from my heart and blink in disbelief. It shimmers with an oily sheen. Gold rippled with black. Like an arrow forged from Spirit wrapped in a Shade’s stain.

Naei .

It is all I have time to think before Malice’s roar rends the air behind me.

Before I lift my hands and try to call to my command threads of Air to shield Na’therya from the dragonfire that is soon to come and realize that I cannot. Disbelief crashes over me as I stare down at my trembling, useless fingers.

I cannot weave.

Panic soon follows when I realize an even more horrifying truth:

I cannot shift.