Page 67 of The Dragon King's Pregnant Mate
"I know he loves you." The words emerge gentle despite everything. "Even now. Even after everything you've done. That's why this place responds to him. He can love, Ulric. You can’t. You never will.”
For a moment—just a moment—I glimpse the wounded boy beneath the monster. Grief flashes in those massive eyes, quickly buried beneath rage. But it's enough to know I've struck true.
"Love?" Ulric's laugh sounds like breaking glass. "Is that what you think this is about? Love?" His tail sweeps across the sacred ground, scattering ancient snow. "He never loved anything but power. Never cared for anything but his precious throne—"
The mountain itself seems to shudder at his blasphemy. Ice spreads faster now, crawling up his legs despite the heat pouring from his scales. The voices in the wind grow louder, more insistent, speaking in languages that taste like lightning on my tongue.
"Listen to them." I struggle to rise, fighting against whatever power binds my magic. I’m unbalanced, arms bound. "Feel what this place truly is. What you've awakened by bringing me here."
But Ulric is beyond reason now. Madness fills his massive eyes as he rears back, gathering flame in his throat. "The gods abandoned us long ago. Left us to tear each other apart over scraps of power and—"
A roar splits the sky, a sound of such primal fury that the very mountains seem to tremble.
Ulric’s massive, scaled head snaps up, eyes widening as another pair of massive wings blots out the sun.
"Brother," he whispers, and for the first time since he took me,realfear enters his voice.
Despite myself, I start to grin.
Chapter 32 - Arvoren
I find them on the sacred peak where everything began.
The wind carries their scents to me before I see them—Calliope's crisp sweetness tangled with my brother's copper-sharp rage. Steam rises from my scales as I bank through ancient stone teeth, wings catching currents that feel wrong somehow, heavier than they should be. The air itself seems to resist my passing, thick with power that makes my blood sing with recognition.
Through our bond, I feel Calliope's fear spike sharply. The sensation drives me forward faster, each wingbeat carrying me closer to where my brother holds my wife captive on a narrow ledge. Ice coats every surface, but it's not Calliope's doing—the patterns are too old, too strange, spiraling in ways that hurt to look at directly.
When I catch sight of them, something in my chest cracks open.
Ulric looms over her in dragon form, his scales catching weak sunlight. The brother I once played with, trained with, swore to protect, has become something twisted—something that makes the very mountain seem to recoil. Steam rises where his claws touch sacred stone, and the ancient runes carved into the rock pulse with sickly light at each point of contact.
But it's Calliope who truly catches my attention. My fierce, beautiful wife, somehow still defiant even bound and threatened. Frost spreads from where she kneels, forming patterns that echo the mountain's own ancient markings. Our child's magic pulses within her, reaching for me even as Ulric's corrupt power tries to suppress it.
I don't hesitate. Can't hesitate. Not anymore.
My roar splits the sky like thunder as I dive, tucking my wings close to pick up speed. The sound carries all my fury, all my grief, all my desperate need to protect what's mine. Behind me, my warriors fan out in practiced formations, but I barely register their presence. All my focus narrows to that ledge, to my wife, to the brother who dares threaten everything I hold dear.
Ulric's massive head snaps up at my approach.
"Brother." His dragon-voice carries that knife-edge mockery I've come to hate. "Come to watch your legacy die?"
I crash onto the ledge with enough force to crack ancient stone, partially transforming as I land. Scales ripple beneath my skin as I struggle to contain the dragon's rage that threatens to consume me. Steam pours from my mouth with each breath, turning the air around me to fog.
"Let her go." The words emerge in a growl that's barely human. "Last warning."
Ulric's laugh shakes loose avalanches on distant peaks.
"Warning? You still think you have the right to warn me about anything?" His tail lashes against sacred stone, scattering centuries of ice. "Look at her, brother. Look what your precious queen has become—carrying that abomination, that thing that should never have been."
"Don't." Smoke curls thicker from my mouth as my control slips further. "Don't speak of them."
But he doesn't stop. Can't stop. I see the madness burning in his eyes, any lucidity there replaced by something fevered and wrong.
"Did you really think you could keep this power for yourself? That the world would allow such a union?" His claws dig deeper into ancient rock. "The gods don’t care. The gods want you dead, brother—"
The mountain itself seems to cut him off. A groan emanates from deep within the stone, a sound of such ancient fury that even my dragon blood runs cold. The runes beneath our feet flare brighter, their light catching on ice crystals in patterns that seem almost alive.
Through our bond, I feel Calliope's magic surge despite whatever binds it. The air around us grows impossibly thick with power—not just hers, not just mine, but something older. Something that makes my teeth ache and my scales ripple faster beneath my skin.