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4

REMEMBER

A s Rhennic invites us to the table near the fireplace to dine, he nods his Storm Guards out. They go, though not without wary glances at their King, for his madness in desiring to be alone with our group right now. The moment the doors are closed, Rhennic steps to me, clasping my hand. My cousin does not mince words as he solemnly stares me down, but it comes with compassion.

The deep kindness that’s always in him.

“Yava. We need to talk about what the Storm Healers have figured out about you and your drakes this past week,” Rhennic says at once. “They sent me an update today on this curse that was done to you by the Black Dragon Knights… It’s unlike anything my healers have ever seen, and they know their curses.”

“Yeah. No shit, Sherlock.” I’m glib as I respond, though I clasp his hand, grateful for my cousin’s support.

“Something is very wrong with your energy.” Rhennic’s uncanny lightning-blitz gaze flickers over our group, then penetrates me. “When you were Excommunicated from your clan by the Knights, it did something to your magic. It’s not like a regular memory-curse, which locks up memories so they can’t be accessed consciously. It’s like… millions of holes have been punctured throughout your dragon-aura. Right to the quick.”

“That’s what it feels like.” I rub my chest, where Aesa’s Truthstone hums in agreement with Rhennic’s words. “Like someone reached right in and bit or clawed out all the most essential parts of me. Even though my drakes can help me by donating their power for a short while to refill my memories… I can’t seem to get any of it back.”

“She’s forgotten everything about Sweden, our clan, and the people in it. Including your family, thanks to the Knights.” Bjorn growls now, not using any code with Rhennic, because as Storm King and part of my family, he’s already aware of the Knights.

I’m challenged now, though, to even remember who the Knights are—my forgetting is worse, despite Bjorn’s constant touch. As we talk, Mikkel moves to my side again as if he wants to help. He doesn’t touch me, but his nearness makes my inner black dragon leap to him once more.

Bjorn denies Mikkel contact by wrapping himself around me, cocooning me in his enormous body. I feel his hot rage rush inside me, making my bright drakaina surge up through my veins, righteous.

Her power comes with a brimstone heat that bolsters me, but it can’t undo how hard Mikkel, and also Strom, push my black drake.

That bestial dragon stares at me now from deep inside, its glittering eyes endless as it asks me, why are you fighting this so hard? I can’t answer, as Bjorn’s power inside me suddenly fails.

His rush of gold and crimson Blood Magic snaps out without warning, and I feel the exhausted shudder that claims him. All this dark Bone Magic is beyond sapping him as he tries to counter it, over and over.

I turn in his arms now and reach up, touching his cheeks. Bjorn is pale, breathing hard again as he fights to wrangle my darkest power back, plus those of my Bone Magic drakes. He sets his jaw, fighting his fatigue with a basso dragon-growl of pure stubbornness, though I know even the mighty Bjorn Magnussen can’t hold out forever .

Especially when Mikkel loses his restraint now, his fingers stealing to my back.

L?rke jerks her twin away almost as soon as he makes contact with me, but the damage is done. As darkness floods my veins and the black dragon inside me rushes up once more, wrath claims me.

I turn lightning-quick and snarl at Mikkel, wanting to fight him again. But it’s wanting to fight-fuck him now, as my memories clear quite a bit. Strom, the exhausted Bjorn, and even my own cousin Rhennic haul me back to a respectable distance.

As L?rke keeps Mikkel well away.

“Well, that’s something you don’t see every day,” my cousin says as he watches what all our dragon-auras are doing with his lightning-blitz eyes. “You don’t truly get your memories back unless you touch your Third Drake; your aura doesn’t fill those holes much without his contact. When you touch him, though—your aura goes black. Blacker than anything I’ve ever seen.”

As Rhennic gives a low whistle, Strom glances at him.

“Can you help us? Can you help her?” Strom asks as I struggle to hold on to my bright side now, taking deep breaths and calming myself from what Mikkel just did.

I glance at him, and his black eyes are unapologetic.

Dark with desire.

“Honestly? I have no clue.” Rhennic shakes his head as he watches us. “You’ve already had every barrage of tests and remedies our best Storm Dragon healers can provide. I’ve never even seen magic this cursed, Yava, and neither have they, other than those cursed by actual demons. Give us a few weeks to prepare some of our oldest healing ceremonies…and maybe.”

“It’s time we don’t have. The Black Dragon isn’t waiting to kill, and I can’t afford to wait any longer to stop it,” I say now as my drakaina howls inside me at Rhennic’s words. I had hoped for better coming here; some ancient Storm Dragon healing spell that could knock out whatever the Knight’s Council did to me and get me back in fighting shape .

Rhennic’s words make me rush with anger now, because I know every day we spend here in France is another day the Black Dragon is razing the Swedish countryside and killing countless Blood Dragons. Not to mention my King and my other cousin, Rhennic’s older brother.

Squarely in the demon’s path as they try to fight it.

I can slightly remember them now, thanks to Mikkel’s power coursing through me from our recent touch. But touching Mikkel is a two-edged sword; though I want more clarity, I don’t dare touch him again as I watch Rhennic heave a hard breath.

“You’re right: I didn’t mean to insult you, Rikyava, insinuating that you should stand down from this fight.” Rhennic reaches out, taking my hands as he holds my gaze. “What you’re dealing with is beyond dangerous, even for the most seasoned Blood Dragon warriors. My father called me a week ago, before he went out hunting that black beast you’re after. He gave me the run down on how dangerous it is, and ancient. You can’t fight it if you can’t remember what it is, though, or why you’re fighting it. Or if you spiral so black… you no longer care about the people you protect.”

I don’t miss Rhennic’s gaze as it flicks over at Mikkel. The two drakes share a long, tense eye contact—the black pirate and the white knight.

“I’m a big drakaina,” I say with a snort now, a hard smile lifting my lips. “I can handle this darkness flooding me.”

“I know you’re tough.” My cousin means it as he eyeballs me. “But you’ve always been righteous. If you lose that,” his gaze flicks to Mikkel again, “thanks to your new life-mate bonds plus your missing memories of everything you hold dear… I don’t know what will happen to you. All the gods know I don’t want that for you, Yava. Ever.”

Rhennic’s got my number as he pinpoints why all of this is so dangerous for me. He and I know that if I let myself spiral into that blackest place, then I will be lost. I will lose my sense of righteousness, of valiant action, and honor. I will lose everything that makes me me.

And descend into a place so dark, I’ll never come out .

“I’ll never fight the Black Dragon, much less vanquish it, if I lose myself,” I murmur, not knowing who I’m saying it to, though I need to say it.

“You’ll be the Black Dragon if you give in to this,” Bjorn growls, turning me in his arms. Forcing me to look up at him, he grips my chin, staring me down with his vivid golden eyes. “I can’t lose you like that.”

“We need to balance our bond,” Strom says as he glances at Rhennic. “In order to balance what Mikkel’s power is doing, Rikyava needs to mate with another Blood Magic drake as strong as he is.”

“Do you have someone in mind?” Rhennic asks me, as I see his one hundred percent practical side come alive, evaluating our situation.

It was this side of him that made him offer to become my bestie Layla Price’s fourth mate, before he even really got to know her. He knew she was a powerful Royal Dragon Bind, and was building a harem of drakes far stronger than your average—drakes who would be kings.

Rhennic knew that in order to secure his newfound throne among the Storm Dragons, he needed to align himself with power like that. And he did.

Though he later found out he loved Layla, just as she did him.

I’m just about to tell Rhennic I don’t have a fourth mate in mind when a presence moves in through the doors. A woman, her Storm Dragon power roars as she glances at Rhennic, waiting for him to acknowledge her.

I feel her massive energy blitz like forked lightning into my body as everything inside me growls. Turning, I see from the insignia on the collar of her grey Victorian uniform that she’s a Palace Guard Captain as she bashes her pike gently into the floor to not disturb our talk but to make her presence known.

“Yes?” Rhennic releases my hands, turning towards her.

“My King,” she says as she addresses him, “this evening’s aurumglow event will begin in fifteen minutes. If you would like to be there to make your opening speech?”

“Thank you, Audrey,” Rhennic says as he nods. Facing me again, he juts his chin at me, his mood far darker now as he growls. “Rikyava, I need to go. There’s no more time for me to have dinner with you tonight. I am occupied with Storm Dragon matters of state all day tomorrow and won’t be available to talk this through further until tomorrow night. You’re of course welcome to continue staying here and working with our healers, to see if they can find anything to help. But in the meantime…”

Rhennic hesitates then, as his violet eyes spark with lightning.

“Lay it on me, cuz.” I heave a hard sigh. “Don’t hold back.”

“In the meantime, I suggest you do everything in your power to figure out who might become your Fourth Bloodmate, and go find that drake,” Rhennic says more seriously than I’ve ever seen him, as his brows draw down in a hard line and his lips set. “Because being bound to a uniquely powerful drakaina like yourself comes with problems, deeper than you know. A strong but harmonious balance of power is everything in a drakaina’s harem, especially when several ridiculously strong alpha drakes are involved. You need to attend to that, stat. Before the one who should be strongest among you pays the price.”

As Rhennic’s gaze flicks to Bjorn over my shoulder, I don’t miss his insinuation. Rhennic knows that if whatever imbalance of power we have keeps up, it’s going to drain my First Bloodmate—to death.

A dark silence settles among us. Heaving a deep breath, sadness fills my cousin’s eyes, then. Squeezing my hands, he moves in, kissing both my cheeks. “Talk this over with your drakes— all of them. See where they’re at. Because they’re a part of this, whether or not you like it. Like with Layla, as the ultimate alpha in the relationship, you need to protect them, even as they protect you. I love you cousin, and I’ll see you later. But think about all I’ve said. Consider what you need to do next.”

Rhennic is sober as he leans in one last time, kissing my cheek. It’s a darkness I rarely see in my white knight of a cousin; I nod, inhaling deep as I feel his seriousness.

He clasps my hands and then he has to go. Nodding to Bjorn and Strom, but only flicking his gaze to Mikkel, Rhennic follows his escort out the door and is gone.

The room is deadly silent as the Storm King leaves. Though Mikkel’s dark gaze pins me again, I glance away from him, needing a respite as I cuddle back into Bjorn’s strong arms and think about everything my cousin’s said.

I know I need to find a fourth drake—that it’s my best course of action to counter this madness happening between us, if not halt it altogether. But finding that particular person, a Blood Magic drake so strong he can counter Mikkel’s overwhelming and impressive magic, is no small feat. I don’t have a single Blood Dragon in mind, as despair seizes me.

And I wonder if such a person even exists.

Something jolts through me, however, as I have that thought. Though most things about Sweden are still misty right now, this image is startlingly clear as it sweeps me.

It’s a memory of when I saw that strange Icelandic artist, Baldur Siguresson, at Mikkel and L?rke’s club in the lower city of the Old Palace. His blazing fire-opal gaze penetrates me now, shocking, like he’s right before me in the room, as his words from that night whisper through my mind.

Beautiful. So beautiful.

The experience rattles me to my core. It’s a good rattle, as I shake with amazement now, feeling better than I have since the Excommunication. I’m not sure if any of my drakes got my memory through our bond as I perk, but I know they felt my hope, as a sweet energy courses through me now like spring sunlight shining off glaciers.

And it’s not Strom’s energy, as he blinks and eyeballs me.

“Rikyava. What just happened?” Strom comes to me, taking my hands. He curls around me, Bjorn still at my back, though we’re separate from the twins.

“I’m not sure…” I say, as I remove one hand from Strom and rub my chest. Because Aesa’s Truthstone is humming like wildfire now as it shines with a radiant glow at the edge of my robe, coursing with gold and red runes.

As if my sudden memory of that Icelandic artist sparked it, I have a feeling of rightness from the song in Aesa’s stone, humming all through my blood and bones. Because something in her recognizes there was power in that artist, when our gazes connected across the vast underground vault that night. Power my group could use, as an instinct fills me.

That he might be what we seek.

Turning to L?rke, I’m about to ask if she has that artist’s phone number or whereabouts, so we could talk to him. But before I can say anything, Bjorn gives a massive yawn. He jolts, and even I know it’s a pre-sleep jolt as he struggles to stay on his feet in his current exhaustion.

I turn to him and lift up, kissing his lips. But his long golden eyelashes are already struggling to not flutter closed; taking his hand, I lead him over to the big bed.

“No. Rikyava. I need to stay awake,” Bjorn protests even as I take him back to bed.

“No. You need to sleep and recover as much of your strength as you can, for all of us,” I tell him as I gesture to the bed. He grumbles, but climbs on in. I tuck him in under the coverlet in his silk pajama pants.

And Bjorn is asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

I stay with him a moment, caressing his short-bearded cheek with my hand. Then I bend over and kiss his full lips, though he doesn’t wake one bit.

“I will protect you,” I whisper, before kissing him one last time and straightening. I don’t even care I have an audience as I glance back to Strom, Mikkel, and L?rke.

Knowing I have to protect them, too.

Because my cousin is right; they’re all my responsibility now, bonded to me in ways I cannot even fathom, ever since all this got started. Even L?rke, though she’s only bonded to me because of her brother and the twin-bond they share .

Mikkel’s dark eyes glitter as he regards me, noting how tender I just was with Bjorn. I see him want it; I see him want real, good love like that, despite everything that lives inside him.

Or maybe because of it, as he simmers now with a jealous streak. Straightening, he claps his hands, putting on his brisk, do-it-all demeanor, but even I can see how much of a sham it is tonight as he turns to all of us.

Addressing our group like nothing has happened.

“Well! I suppose we should all get some rest. L?rke? Shall we retire?” Mikkel nods at his sister as he gestures towards the door to their adjacent suite.

“Rikyava?” But L?rke defers to me now, as her pale lavender eyes regard mine. “Do you need us for anything tonight? Will you be alright?”

It makes me grateful for her, as I feel protective energy come from her now, like a sister. Once at-odds with me, L?rke has become a strange ally over the past week.

A woman I’m grateful for, as I nod to her now.

“We’ll be fine. Maybe we should all rest. Tackle this fresh in the morning.”

L?rke nods, though I feel her deep regard as she peruses me, Strom, then Bjorn, asleep in the bed. As Mikkel moves towards their suite, she goes, satisfied I’ll be fine.

“I’m just a suite away,” L?rke says as she opens the door.

“ We’re just a suite away, sister.” Mikkel chuckles as he glances at me, though a searing darkness of desire is in his eyes now.

“Rikyava heard me.” L?rke stares me down and I get what she’s saying. Mikkel’s not included in our girl’s club; I’m suddenly beyond grateful for her, as she nods and moves out the door.

Mikkel remains behind one last moment, his dark eyes pinning me.

Then he’s out the door, as well.

As Strom and I heave deep, relieved breaths.