Page 69 of The Dragon King's Pregnant Mate
"You've become everything they warned us against." My voice carries all the grief of years wasted, of trust betrayed, of bonds broken beyond repair. "Everything they died trying to prevent. In the afterlife, I hope they find it in their hearts to forgive your treachery. If I was them, I wouldn’t.”
Through our bond, I feel Calliope's magic finally break free of the last of its bindings. Winter storm meets dragon-fire as our powers surge together, harmonizing with the mountain's ancient song. Our child's presence pulses between us, lending strength to us both.
Ulric thrashes against the ice claiming him, but it's too late. The magic that once accepted our bloodline now rejects him utterly, seeing him for what he's become—an oath-breaker, a kinslayer, a perversion of everything our line was meant to protect.
"Arvoren—"
For just a moment, I hear the boy he once was in that voice. The brother I loved, the child who laughed as we played in these very mountains.
"Please—"
But that boy is long dead. Only the monster remains.
My flames catch him full in the throat as he tries to speak again. There's no hesitation now, no mercy. Just the clean certainty of ending a threat to everything I hold dear. His frozen scales blacken and peel as fire meets ice, their magic combining into something that burns beyond mere flesh.
His eyes bulge huge, upturned toward the sky. I see pain on his face, a kind of deep sadness, there and then gone.
Then, slowly as a mountain falling, I watch Ulric’s monstrously huge body topple backward off the edge of the mountain, into the chasm far below us.
Chapter 33 - Calliope
Ulric falls like a dark star through endless white, his massive form growing smaller and smaller until the storm swallows him whole below us. For a moment—just a moment—in that battle, I think I caught a glimpse of the boy he must have been, before power and jealousy twisted him into something monstrous. I saw a flash of it in him, there and then gone.
Now he’s dead, leaving only silence and softly falling snow.
The mountain seems to exhale around us. Ancient power settles back into weathered stone like frost melting in spring sunlight, centuries of ritual and sacrifice returning to slumber. Even the air feels different—lighter somehow, as if some terrible weight has lifted from the world itself. The sacred ground remembers its purpose, remembers what it means to pass judgment on those who would break the most ancient bonds.
From above comes a sound I've never heard before—a keening that starts low and builds until it fills the bitter air. The dragons who witnessed our battle cry victory to the heavens, their voices carrying notes of triumph and hunger that make my bones vibrate. One by one they plunge into the chasm after their fallen prince, scales flashing like captured stars as they vanish into white nothing.
I don't need to understand their ways to know what comes next. Some crimes demand payment in flesh and blood.
My legs fold beneath me as the last echoes of their cries fade away. The binding magic's remnants cling to my skin like spider silk, making the world tilt and blur at the edges. But before I can crumple completely, strong arms catch me, fever-hot even through layers of torn fabric. Arvoren moves fast, gathering me against his chest as if I weigh nothing at all.
His breath stirs my hair, impossibly warm. Through our bond, I feel the storm of emotions he's barely containing—fierce protectiveness warring with bone-deep fear, relief tangled with lingering fury. His hands tremble slightly as they move over me, checking for injuries with a gentleness that seems at odds with the power I just watched him unleash.
I press closer to his warmth without thinking, seeking the steady thrum of his heartbeat. Our child stirs within me, their magic reaching instinctively for their father's now that nothing suppresses it. The sensation makes my breath catch—this perfect harmony of winter storm and dragon fire, this proof that something beautiful can grow from even the darkest beginnings.
The voices in the wind have gentled to whispers, no longer carrying that edge of divine judgment. Snow falls in lazy spirals around us, catching strange light in ways that make each flake look like a fallen star. The gods' presence lingers in how the air shimmers, in the way frost forms patterns that hurt to look at directly. But their fury has passed, replaced by something that feels almost like benediction.
Arvoren sinks to his knees, taking me with him, one hand splayed protectively over my midriff. Snowflakes melt gently against his skin.
When he speaks, his voice holds none of its usual command—only raw emotion that makes my chest ache.
"When I felt your fear through our bond…"
I touch his face, thumb brushing away what might be tears or might be melted frost. His skin burns against my fingers, scales rippling beneath the surface as he struggles to contain his dragon nature. After everything we've been through, every betrayal and hurt, every step of this impossible journey, we've somehow found our way here—to this moment of perfect understanding.
He catches my hand, pressing it harder against his cheek. Through our bond, I feel his desperate need to know this is real, that we're both truly safe. That everything he just sacrificed wasn't in vain.
"I knew you'd find us," I say softly, letting him feel the truth of it through our connection. "I never doubted. Not really."
His other hand ghosts over the bruises darkening my wrists where the binding metal cut into flesh. When he sees the marks his brother left, scales ripple faster beneath his skin, but he forces back the transformation. Forces himself to be gentle, to be what I need right now instead of what his rage demands.
I lean into him, letting his warmth chase away the bone-deep cold that Ulric's bindings left behind. The mountain cradles us in its ancient embrace, the worst of the wind dying down to leave us in a pocket of relative stillness. Only the soft whisper of falling snow breaks the silence.
Our child moves again, stronger now that the suppressing magic is gone. Arvoren's hand spreads wider over my belly, protective and wondering at once.
"They've always known you," I murmur, covering his hand with mine. "Even when I wasn't sure I could trust you again. Even when I was running. They would reach for you in my dreams..."