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thirty-seven

Rivern

“ F ind her, Solen.” My voice is terse as I shout the words at my intimate.

Every part of my body hungers for the human I let down.

Solen is gone in a blink. He understands my heart. He will find her. There’s no one else I trust. Not in this place.

Buckling towards the moss beneath my feet, I pull at my hair. Mildew cakes my breeches, and I revel in the coldness. It matches the tenderness of my heart.

She left? No one saw her. Not a guard or fae witnessed her leave in the night. How can one human garner no attention within a realm she has never visited before? Surely, she would stick out like a sore thumb.

When I had finished with Moyrie, I heard her, felt the pain reverberating down the cord that connects us as one like an eternal loop. The echo of her scream within my mind was enough to leave me deaf except for the sound of her voice. Just her voice alone.

I watch as Solen flies through the slitted, high walls of the aviary. A designated area for all the fae intimates. Replicated to look like the lushness of the forest outside within the confines of a giant rock. Birds of all shapes and sizes move about freely as they chirp and tweet.

I ran to my room as my heart beat from my chest, and she was gone like she had vanished into thin air. None of the guards saw her leave, yet, through our connection, I could tell she was no longer within Terra, which alarmed me to no end. How did she move so fast?

And because we have not come together to complete the bond, now that she is at a distance, her heart grows quieter and quieter to my own. It leaves a pain knocking at the door of my heart, a constant reminder of my loss. A light I can never forget.

I could ignore the ache when I hadn’t met her, but now, that notion is an impossibility.

I am a coward. I should have just said no to my mother, but with the threat of Doves safety over my head, I had to follow my path. The path set before me by my upbringing. Now, she is gone.

“Fuck!” The birds fly towards the darkened sky, retreating from my rage.

A soft tap on the shoulder jars me .

“Oh, dear son, surely it is not as bad as all that. I have not seen you in such hysterics since Freya stole your little dragon toy. What was its name?” I feel the swish of her dress close to my body, and I shudder. The queen and I have never seen eye to eye. I am the reckless child. The one she constantly seeks to tame. To punish.

Fingers trail through my hair, and she repeats her question. “Hmm, what was its name, son?”

Pulling in a lungful of air, I amuse her. “Fury.”

“Yes, of course. Fury, the little beastly dragon.” Her fingers pause in my hair, and she stands before me. “And what happened to Fury?”

Looking up, I find shadowed eyes, borderline indigo, calculating and cold, staring down at me. “He fell into the fireplace.”

Resting her hand along her cheek contemplatively, she continues, “That’s right. You and Freya were playing some silly game, and funnily enough, your dragon met his end.”

Leaning down, she rests her hand under my chin, grasping tight. “Now, you listen to me, dear son of mine. You will not ruin what we have spent centuries building here for some human girl. Need I remind you they took our land from us with their savage dyre wolves. You can not even imagine the slaughter.” Loosening her grip, she begins to stroke my cheek. “My perfect son, so much like your father. I do so hope you choose your family and duty. Or there will be consequences to your actions. You are not playing silly games anymore.”

She scrapes her nails down my cheek, and I roughly pull away, coming to my full height, towering a full head over the centuries-old fae before me.

“When have I ever not chosen my family?” I counter in mirth. My own tongue sticks on “family.” But isn’t Dove my family, now, too?

“Just reminding you where your loyalties lie, dear boy.” She pats my cheek, and I grip her wrist tight, eyes wide with rage at her prodding of my body.

Her eyes meet mine for a movement, and her face transforms into a sinister smile. “There he is.”

I push her hand down and storm out of the aviary. She may be my mother and the queen of Terra, but it does not mean I respect her or the decisions she makes. She won’t even hold the markings of an ancestors, calling them outdated like rituals are just something you can ignore.

We are entertainment to her, and she enjoys moving us around at her will, nothing but pawns in her chess games.

She still doesn’t know Dove possesses the Goddess’s song. I’m not sure I want her to . Letting Freya know was a risk, but as the future queen, I can only hope she will seek to preserve the knowledge and, in turn, Dove.

My mother is a lost cause, and I see that now. She is only in it for her own means. The crown was meant to go to Freya at the birth of her firstborn. Instead, my mother thwarted the old rules, and is slowly making her own.

Striding down the hallway, I make my way back to my room to prepare for another journey. The rising tempest within my soul is not giving way anytime soon, and there is only one way to fix it.

I will find her, and I will bring her back.

With no news from Solen, I take comfort in the heavy ache of being parted from my bonded. No feelings mean only one thing, and that idea is not one I even want to consider.

Dressed and loaded with weapons, I seek out the last person I want to see.

The suns are rising, and the Silver Sands princess will soon be preparing to return to her kingdom. I am meant to return with her.

Before I can knock on the door, it swings open, and slitted, blue, luminous eyes meet mine.

Unlike our previous encounter, she is now fully clothed in her white, almost see-through robes. Even the scarfs that wrap her head only make room for her eyes. None of her reflective scales are on display. She even hides her tail within the long material.

Giving a slight bow, she greets me in her rolling sounds. “Rithern.”

“Moyrie.” I don’t know how I will explain this to the princess, but I am hoping she might understand my predicament. Hopefully, she has a lover of her own back home.

She moves to leave the room, and I move my head from side to side. “Talk?”

I repeat the word a few times until she shakes her head, too. “No.” She sleuths around my statuesque body and starts stalking down the hall.Right, of course she’s not going to make this easy, not after I pushed her advances away last night. She’d kissed me and the bond sent shooting pain through my chest. After that, I’d pushed her away and prayed to the Goddess she didn’t approach my mother.

With no other choice at present, I follow Moyrie up to the platform where she is meant to meet her dragon.

I have greeted Moyrie and her dragon before on this very mountaintop. Seeing the majestic creature land on the rocky cliff, creating its own wind tunnel, wings flapping without measure is always mesmerising to witness.

Looking around, I see no dragon.

Moyrie paces, her robes swelling in the strong breeze. Back and forth, along the edge of the cliff, she keeps her eyes trained on the lightening sky above.

She makes a rattling whistle sound towards the sky, to no avail.

Out of nowhere, a bronzed object comes flying towards me, and I have a moment to grab the thing before it pricks me in the neck. Thank the Goddess for my reflexes.

“Saffff?” The blue-eyed Silver Sands princess hisses as she stalks towards me and unexpectedly leaps on my body. Her legs grip firmly around my waist as a sharpened blade finds my throat.

Shaking my head, I question, “Who is Saff?”

The guards manning the entrance are primed to move, but I stop them with a flick of my hand. I do not wish to anger the princess straddling my body any further.

Sensing her scowl beyond the wrap covering her mouth, she seethes, “ Drrraaagooon,” her eyes thinner than usual.

So, she thinks we did something with her dragon. No one has the capabilities to hold a dragon in Terra, so I shake my head again and use a word she understands with finality. “No.”

Hissing under her masked face, she releases me and effortlessly slides down my body.

The dragon could just be late—

If not, there goes my ride to find Dove. I was thinking that if I tried to explain things to Moyrie, she would show some compassion for my situation, but if her reaction just now is anything to go by, I’m not sure I should tell her Dove exists, especially by how willing she is to consummate our pairing.

Moyrie parks herself in a seated position in the middle of the platform and starts to chant in her language. A call to the missing dragon? I can only guess at this point . I barely know the customs of my arranged bride’s land.

“Princess, where are you?” I whisper to the suns.

Solen has not returned, and I have a tether directing me in the opposite direction of Haven, towards the void.

“What are you doing?” My voice travels along the wind, hoping it will find purchase on a human female made of grit and fire.