Page 24 of The Flame King’s Queen (Fire and Desire #3)

Zabriel needs the comfort of my scent for many hours, and we lay together in our bed with his arms wrapped tightly around me. My cheek rests against his chest, and I close my eyes, not because I’m sleepy, but because it’s better for listening to the comforting thump of his heart.

“Emmeric has been here,” Zabriel murmurs after some time. “I don’t know how he managed to breach the castle or raise our dead parents, but he knew how much it would hurt me to see my mother like that. He’s punishing me for destroying his stronghold in the south and driving his army out of Maledin. He’s angry that I became King of Maledin and took the throne from him.”

His mother. Not their mother. Though she died a long time ago in years, five hundred of them to be precise, for Zabriel, in waking time, his parents were killed less than a year ago. I hold him even tighter. “Do not forget that the lich is driving him toward greater and greater cruelty. The undead sorcerer has been obsessed with the ‘black prince’ and the rest of you who destroyed his phylactery.”

Zabriel sighs heavily. “I wonder if the man who I once called brother can even be said to exist anymore.”

“I have wondered that too, but remember what Zenevieve said? There was sorrow in Emmeric’s face as he stood over Shar’s body. That can only have been Emmeric.”

“Sorrow, after locking up Shar and making him suffer all these years,” Zabriel says angrily. “If Emmeric has ever tempered the lich’s cruelty, it has not been enough.”

I stroke my fingers down Zabriel’s chest, and whisper, “No, I agree.”

But if the lich and Emmeric are ever separated, will the undead sorcerer be driven to even greater desire for cruelty and revenge? If Emmeric dies, will the lich lose all sense of self-preservation and only seek to punish and slay?

“I’m so sorry he used your mother to hurt you.”

Zabriel captures my hand and kisses my palm. “As long as it’s me Emmeric hurts and not you. If his cruelty turned to you…” He gazes at me for a moment, then slants his mouth over mine.

Zabriel cups my belly gently, and my breasts firmly, licking and suckling and making me arch and moan. When he sinks into me, I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on tight.

“I will always protect you, my queen,” he tells me between slow thrusts that make my insides light up in pleasure. “You and our family will always come first in my heart. I will never squander your love for power. My children will never fear me.”

I arch my neck as he sinks deeper into me. “And that is why I will always love you.”

A few days later, I speak with Ravenna about visiting my crone, and she agrees that we should inform Biddy about what happened with Emmeric.

“Would you wish to add a new rider to your escort, my queen?” Dusan says, and Fiala glances at him with interest.

“Who do you mean?” I ask.

“Let’s speak with Captain Ashton, and we will see if she is ready.”

The four of us consult with the captain, and I’m both astonished and pleased by what he tells me.

We find Anise in the eyrie, energetically mucking out dirty hay and wyvern droppings. She leans on her rake and grins as we approach her. “Are you all going flying? Keilar will be excited to see you, Miss Ravenna.”

Ravenna cautiously offers her hand to Keilar, who has approached our group to sniff and nuzzle. “I’m a slow learner, but she’s very patient with me.”

I turn to my sister with a smile. “I have talked with Captain Ashton, and he says you’re making excellent progress as a novice rider. How would you like your first official assignment?”

Anise’s eyes grow huge. “An assignment? But I’m not even a real wingrunner yet.”

“But you have expertise enough to fly, and I believe you know the way we’re going.”

“Are we flying to Amriste to see Dad and Biddy?” she asks excitedly.

“We are.”

Anise runs to a wyvern and puts her hand on his neck. “This is Ereskier, and I’ve been learning to fly on him. May I fly him to Amriste?”

It’s decided that is the best plan, and once Anise has run to the barracks to change into her novice uniform, we all set off.

The flight is swift and uneventful, and I admire the confident way that Anise flies on Ereskier while keeping close to the group and following Captain Ashton’s orders.

In Amriste, Anise shows off her black and silver riding clothes to Dad, who nods approvingly. It’s not a fully decorated wingrunner uniform with all its many pockets and flourishes, but it marks her as belonging to them, and I’m smiling proudly as she tells Dad all about her flying lessons.

Dusan, Fiala, and the rest of the escort spread throughout the village while we head to Biddy’s cottage.

“Well met, young witches,” Biddy greets us as we enter. “And the little miss who doesn’t want to be a witch.” Humor is glimmering in her old eyes.

“How did you know about that, Mistress Hawthorne?” Anise asks her in astonishment.

“I don’t need crows to see what goes on in the big city. Little sisters like to tread their own paths. I was a little sister once, and you wouldn’t catch me dead walking the same road as my big sister. I became a witch. She became a baker’s wife and had a dozen children.”

Anise pulls a face at the thought of having children.

I burst out laughing, and pat my stomach. “You will still have to be auntie to my dozen children.”

“That’s fine. I can manage auntie.”

We’re all just getting comfortable when Biddy calls out in a sharp tone, “Do not loiter outside my door. Enter, or begone with you.”

Ravenna and I glance at each other in surprise. The door opens, and a dark figure fills the doorway.

“What a cozy little coven,” Kane snarls, looking around at us all.

Anise gets to her feet, her fists clenched angrily. “What do you want?”

“Nothing from you,” he says, closing the door behind him. He has to nearly bend double so he doesn’t hit his head on the ceiling. This cottage wasn’t made for Alphas. Though Kane seeks her attention, Ravenna keeps her expression aloof, and her gaze averted.

“What are you doing here, Kane?” I ask him.

He doesn’t look away from Ravenna. “Are you really asking that earnestly, witch? Does your mate not follow you around or smother you with bodyguards?”

“You’re saying you’re here to protect her?” I ask doubtfully.

“What marvelous powers of deduction you have.”

Ravenna turns to Biddy. “I apologize for the disruption, mistress. I will return to Lenhale so that the rest of the coven may meet in peace.”

Biddy waves her back onto her stool. “Let him stay. The warlock might learn a thing or two.”

Kane snorts in derision.

Ravenna looks guilty and upset, but she prepares a pot of herbal tea. After passing us all a cup, she presents one to Kane.

He gazes at it with suspicion. When he mutters a word under his breath, the contents of the cup light up. “Really, witch?” He grimaces and puts the cup aside.

“It was worth a try,” she says with a light shrug. To us, she says, “Don’t worry. I only poisoned his.”

Biddy passes around some teacake, and for a while, the four of us discuss Emmeric raising the dead queen in Lenhale. My crone is keen to hear about the spells we cast, and is even impressed by the results. I find my heart lightening with pleasure, recalling how gruff and critical Biddy used to be with me.

“I remember that once I was barely fit to dig weeds from your garden.”

Biddy gives me a long, hard look. “A bit of muddy work kept you grounded. It doesn’t do for young and powerful witches to get too big of a head.” She sniffs, and her expression softens. “You were a simple village girl thrust onto the throne of Maledin. I thought it might do good to put a simple task or two in front of you.”

“I think you were right about that.”

Cradling her teacup in both hands, Ravenna says, “Mistress Hawthorne, if ever you’re in need of a witch to weed your garden, I would be happy to help you.”

“I’m sorry, girl,” Biddy says, and there is genuine sorrow in her watery blue eyes. “I fear you have a different path to tread. It will be far from here, and not an easy one.”

I sit up in alarm. “Far from here? What do you mean, far from here?”

Ravenna is opening her mouth when Kane interrupts her. “You looked cozy with the captain who rides that ratty bird lizard. Pining for you, is he? A dangerous game he’s playing right under my nose, and don’t fool yourself into believing that he can make you feel anything close to how I—”

“It’s a wyvern, not a ratty bird lizard,” Anise tells him angrily. “If you’re going to stay, then stuff a cake in your mouth and shut up, or I’ll do it for you.”

Through clenched teeth, he replies, “But I am waiting for someone to thank me for saving the king’s life. He wouldn’t honor me himself.”

“You must not always be seeking gratitude,” Ravenna tells him.

“But I long for gratitude,” he says with hungry eyes that devour his Omega. “Have I earned a kiss, Ravenna? I’ve been so good to your disgusting little witch queen and her big, stupid mate.”

“Don’t kiss him unless it will turn him into a frog,” Anise tells her.

With soft, doe eyes, Ravenna reaches up to him. Kane leans down farther from his great height, seeking her mouth, and she cups his jaw.

He freezes. Ravenna’s nails have suddenly grown by an inch into pinprick points, and they are tipped with green.

Kane glances at her nails out of the corner of his eye. “Poisoned?”

She smiles. “Do you like my new hex? I learned it just for you.”

“Impressive. I don’t mind the nails, but I’d rather do without the poison.”

“Sorry. I’m in a poisonous mood.”

“As much fun as that was last time,” he grumbles and steps away from her. “I’ll wait outside, but I’ll just say this.” He turns to me. “Tell that dragonmaster of yours to stop coveting my dragons.”

I gaze at him, perplexed. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That white-scaled bitch of his has been flying over my dragons at night, and Stesha is always drooling over Aurissa and Auriana.”

Interesting. Perhaps Stesha wants Auryn’s sisters for our flare. They don’t seem happy with their riders, and I can imagine that Stesha knows ways to coax unhappy dragons away to a new home. I shrug lightly. “I have little to do with the dragonmaster. Tell him yourself.”

“If anyone tries to take my dragons, I’ll spill their blood.” Kane slams out of the cottage.

Ravenna turns to Biddy with an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, mistress. I’ll try not to let that happen again.”

Biddy chuckles to herself. “That witchfinder would have murdered us all not long ago, and now you’ve got him coming to coven meetings like a little lamb and too scared to accept a cup of tea from you. No need to be sorry, my girl. I enjoyed myself immensely.”

The final event, which was delayed due to Emmeric’s attack, is held the following day.

Zabriel is motivated to win, but from the hard gleam in Stesha’s eyes, you’d think his life depended on being the victor. The two Alphas are both at the top of the leaderboard with equal points. If one of them places higher than the other in this event, there will be a clear winner.

“I’m thinking of competing in this event myself,” I say, rubbing my belly as I approach Zabriel at the dragongrounds. The baby feels excited this morning, as restless as their father.

Zabriel turns to me in horror. “ Sha’lenla , you can’t. It’s far too violent. What if you fall? What if you…” He trails off as he notices me smiling. “Ah. You are teasing me.”

“Please do your best not to fall or break anything today. Even the event’s name is making me worried for you.”

“It sounds worse than it is,” he tells me, patting Scourge’s flank.

“The Blooding. That’s the event’s name. How could it sound worse than it is when the entire purpose is for dragons to draw each other’s blood?”

“That was the event in the past, but we’ve changed things now. All the dragons will eat a special mixture created by the Hratha’len to make their dragonfire harmless for a short time, but leave a glowing scorch mark. During the first half of the event at least. During the second half, there will still be a fight to first blood between the victor and another dragonrider of their choosing.”

That’s somewhat of a relief.

My mate’s dragon is standing tall and proud in the morning sunlight, and looks as intimidating as ever. Aurissa hasn’t been seen since Emmeric used Corin’s face to enter the castle, but Auryn, Ragdyn, and Auriana are competing, and I haven’t forgotten how they caused chaos and injury in the first event when it wasn’t allowed. Now they have been given permission.

Only twelve dragons and riders have entered the final event, and I don’t think any less of the riders who have chosen to sit this one out. It’s painful to witness your dragon injured, even if it’s just a scratch.

I kiss my mate and wish him and Scourge good skies, and ensure that my hair ribbon is still tightly tied around his arm for luck. I feel more nervous about this event than any others, and my anxiety only increases when I retreat to the edge of the dragongrounds with the other dragonriders, onlookers, and Hratha’len . Every dragon will be in competition with one another, and my mate will likely be targeted first.

Fiala and Dusan pat my shoulders comfortingly as I join them. Ravenna is close by, her expression somber, and Zenevieve is standing not far away, pensively holding something as she watches the dragons. I realize as she lets it go that it’s a ribbon. Two ribbons. Emerald green and midnight blue. For Minta and Shar, the dragons she loved and lost. Perhaps she thought it would be inauspicious to present Stesha with colors belonging to dead dragons, or perhaps she was worried he, the most Maledinni man in all Maledin, would rebuff a human custom.

The wind blows the ribbons over to me, and I pick them up and put them in my pocket.

Turning back to watch Zabriel, I find myself gnawing on the corner of my lip.

“No need to fret, my queen,” Fiala tells me cheerfully. “It’s not a battle they’re flying into.”

So why does it feel like it is?

Sooner than I’d like, the horn sounds, and all twelve dragons fly up into the air. They soar around over our heads with the sound of snapping teeth and warning snarls. Dragonfire erupts in the skies, and it’s not the typical bright orange flames, but pale, glowing light, and it paints dragons’ flanks with stripes that glow. But first, a dragon has to get close enough to another. The maneuvers begin to get tighter and faster, dragons twisting in midair to gain the advantage over the others. There’s a screech of a marked dragon, and then another, and both dragons flutter to the ground while Auryn roars in victory. I recognize the dragons as Merrex and Lethis. I breathe faster and faster as I watch Scourge evading both Ragdyn and Auriana, their teeth snapping at his wings and tail between bursts of dragonfire. Verdun marks Ragdyn, and he’s out, but then Auryn catches up with her and paints her wing with harmless flames.

It ends when there are just three dragons left unmarked in the skies. Auryn, Scourge, and Nilak. The victor is the dragon and rider that marked the most dragons. All three dragons are unmarked, but Scourge and Nilak were so hounded by the wild flare that they failed to score as many points as Kane, and he and Auryn are the winners. Zabriel and Stesha’s expressions are bitter with disappointment as they dismount, both of them aware that they still hold equal first place.

I feel as disappointed as my mate looks. “Is it all over? Are there two winners of the Dragon Games?”

“Not yet,” Fiala tells me. “Kane must fight another dragonrider of his choosing to first blood.”

Kane and the dragonriders line up before the Temple Crone, and she regards the blond-haired rider with a thoughtful expression.

“You and Auryn flew well, Kane. I’m pleased to see that your dragon did not unnecessarily injure other dragons in your quest for victory. To secure it, you and your dragon must battle another rider and their mount. You may choose your opponent.”

Kane is a coward and a bully, and I expect him to choose a woman, or Pavel, who is a Beta and smaller than Kane, and though Pavel rides a large Alpha male, his dragon is nowhere near as large as Scourge or Auryn. His gaze travels along the line of dragonriders and comes to rest on a tall, stern figure.

“Him.” Kane jerks his chin at Stesha.

I feel a burst of surprise, and then a begrudging amount of respect. Could it be that Zabriel’s and Ravenna’s words have finally gotten through to him, and he realizes he must act with honor if he wishes to earn gratitude?

The dragonmaster steps forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “I accept.”

Zabriel exhales sharply through his nose, and steps back with the other riders who weren’t chosen.

“You wanted him to choose you,” I say softly, reaching for his hand.

Zabriel squeezes my hand, not taking his eyes off the former witchfinder. “Our dragons are more evenly matched. The Dragon Games are not the place for Kane to settle a personal grudge.”

It’s plain to see that Stesha doesn’t agree. The dragonmaster’s eyes are gleaming with anticipation of settling things between him and Kane once and for all.

The Temple Crone nods serenely at Kane, and turns to Stesha. “You need not accept, dragonmaster. As you and King Zabriel are tied for first place, I will remind you that if Kane bests you in this event, you will place third in the Dragon Games overall, and King Zabriel will be the victor of the Dragon Games. You may nominate King Zabriel in your place if you believe it will secure your ultimate victory.”

“I will secure the ultimate victory by besting Kane,” Stesha pronounces.

The crowd goes mad, waving blue and white banners. Everyone is eager to see their dragonmaster force the interloper into conceding defeat.

I glance up at Zabriel, feeling torn. I’m glad that he won’t be in danger from Auryn, but I’m still worried for Nilak and simultaneously disappointed that my mate may not be crowned the winner of the Dragon Games.

“Do not fear for Nilak. I have little doubt that she and Stesha will pummel him into the ground,” he tells me.

“Which means he will win the Dragon Games,” I say softly.

“Then I will be proud to see you place the winner’s laurels on his head.” He smiles down at me and squeezes my hand. “Really, I will, for it means a dragon of our flare has been victorious in the final flight.”

I go up on my toes and kiss him. My mate truly is the biggest-hearted and fairest-minded Alpha of them all.

“To rider’s first blood, or to concession of defeat? Competitors’ choice,” the Temple Crone asks Stesha and Kane.

“To death,” Kane replies.

I breathe in sharply. I can’t have heard that right.

The Temple Crone frowns at the Alpha. “The Dragon Games is not about—”

“I accept,” Stesha replies calmly.

There’s shocked whispering from the watching crowd. People clutch their white and blue banners tightly. Over Stesha’s shoulder, Nilak unfurls her wings and lowers her head in a silent, threatening hiss.

The Temple Crone draws herself up to her full height. “There have been accidental deaths during the Dragon Games in the past, but riders will not commit murder against each other. This is a celebration, not a war.”

“Nilak and I have no intention of dying today,” Stesha says. “Nor do we crave the deaths of any dragons or their riders. Kane may try and kill me if he wishes, but he will tire before he’s even managed to draw blood.”

Kane thrusts his face close to the dragonmaster’s. “If I get my hands on you, you will plead for me to kill you, you arrogant, mate-stealing, dragon-thieving piece of shit.”

Stesha regards him coldly. “If.”

I turn to my mate. “Can you not call this off? This is insanity.”

Zabriel hesitates. “If it were anyone else, I would. Stesha is the better fighter, and it’s not wise to get between two Alphas who crave a fight.”

When Zabriel does not call things off, the Temple Crone reluctantly says, “Very well. I presume there will be fire-breathing, so you must climb to twice the height of the castle before the battle begins. You must not fly over the city or breathe fire at lower altitudes. If any of these rules are broken, wingrunners will pull you from your mounts and bring you forcibly to the ground. You will not be able to evade the wyverns on dragons the size of yours, so please do not try. If the fight moves to the ground and swords are drawn, the dragons must move back and leave things to the riders. Is that understood?”

The crone is speaking to both Stesha and Kane, but her gaze lingers on the warlock. Both of them nod sharply.

With a purse of her wrinkled lips that tells me she doesn’t approve of any of this, she says, “Riders, mount your dragons.”

Kane stalks over to Auryn. Stesha turns toward Nilak, but then changes his mind and approaches Zabriel. They regard each other in silence, and there’s a lump in my throat as I take in the two men. Stesha is Zabriel’s closest friend. One of the few people in the kingdom that my mate trusts. Esteems. In many ways, still looks up to. The pain will be unbearable for him if he loses Stesha.

Stesha goes down on one knee before Zabriel and speaks loudly so that his voice may carry. “ Ma’len . On the slim chance that I don’t make it back alive, it has been an honor to serve alongside you, and then under your command. I am inspired by your leadership.”

“Get up. Don’t call me Ma’len all of a sudden. It sounds like an ill omen.” Zabriel reaches down, clasps Stesha’s forearm, and pulls him to his feet.

In a low voice that I just catch, Stesha says into Zabriel’s ear, “You remember what we swore?”

“I remember. I will always protect her.”

Stesha squeezes Zabriel’s arm, and in that same low voice, he says, “If he will not back down, I will have to kill him.”

Zabriel nods and says softly, “Then you must watch out for Auryn and the sisters. The wingrunners will do what they can to unseat the riders, but if the wild flare catches you and Nilak while they are in a rage, they will rip you apart.” In a louder voice that carries to the crowd, he says, “Don’t speak as if you are about to die. I want my children to grow up alongside yours.”

“I want the same thing.”

“Do you?” The words burst out of my mouth in an exclamation of surprise, prompting laughter all around me.

Stesha flicks a dark glance at me. “I hope not to hear such incredulity from my future mate’s lips, and that she will find me appealing and worthy of the consideration of being my mate, even if that surprises the queen.”

I want to ask if he is speaking generally, or if he has a particular mate in mind. If he kills Kane, will he believe it’s his duty to take Ravenna as his mate? There is no doubt he will take Kane’s dragons. Or if he wins the games, is he finally ready to confess to Zenevieve that he loves her? But that can only happen if he survives. I feel sick to my stomach as I wonder what kind of bloodbath we’re about to witness. A moment ago, I was frustrated that my mate would not be the one to take his chance at winning the games. Now I’m relieved that he’s not going to be the one drawing the fury of the wild flare.

Stesha lets go of Zabriel and then turns to me. Before I know what he’s doing, he goes down before me on one knee.

“Oh, sweet stars above,” I exclaim before I can stop myself. “You’re kneeling to me?”

Stesha regards me sardonically for a moment as if he’s thinking of telling me he’s just as surprised as I am and not to get used to this. But his expression clears, and he says earnestly, “Queen Isavelle, Nilak and I have been honored to fly in your coronation games. We pledge featly to you unto death. We honor you as our queen. We respect you as our fellow dragonrider.” He pauses. “And we respect you as a witch. You and the witch Ravenna saved the king’s life, something none of us will soon forget.”

I hear the surprise in the crowd’s whispers as they hear the dragonmaster speaking highly of two witches. I’m staring at him with my mouth open.

Stesha starts to get to his feet, but I hold out my hand to stop him.

“Wait. This is for luck.” I reach into my pocket and tie Zenevieve’s ribbons around his left bicep. He stares at the fluttering ends of the emerald and blue ribbons for a long time.

“They’re not mine,” I add hastily. “They’re—”

“I know whose they are.” He goes on staring at the ribbons, and I have an awful feeling he’s going to rip them off and say that he doesn’t want a part of any human customs, and a rider like him doesn’t need luck.

Slowly, he gets to his feet.

“Now that you have all made it plain that you’re longing for my demise, shall we get on with this?” Kane calls in a sarcastic voice.

“At once,” Stesha says, and turns on his heel. The fluttering emerald and blue ribbons stand out starkly against his white riding leathers.

We watch as they mount their dragons. The scarlet Ragdyn and the yellow Aurissa and Auriana are watching from the sidelines, all of them restless, seeming to sense that their Alpha is about to enter combat. Their flashing eyes and teeth send anxiety spiraling through my stomach.

I move closer to Zabriel and whisper, “Why did Stesha just do all that?”

“Because if he dies, Kane may attempt to snatch power, and Stesha wanted to remind everyone watching who it is they’re loyal to. That is, you and me.” Zabriel eyes the wild flare dragons warily.

“And I thought he was overcome with love for us both,” I whisper.

Zabriel grins. “That as well, but you know our dragonmaster. Always thinking strategically.”

Ravenna’s face is deathly pale as she watches both riders sitting astride their dragons. Stesha’s colors are clutched in her hands so tightly that it seems she’s about to rip them apart.

I move closer to her, touching her wrist so that she lets go of the banner, and I take her hand. “Stesha will be all right. Do not tell anyone I said so, but even Zabriel has trouble besting him in a fight. No one else comes close to the dragonmaster’s abilities.”

Ravenna swallows hard and her nails dig sharply into my palm. Her flesh feels clammy against mine.

Nilak and Auryn take to the skies, and the crowd roars its support for their dragonmaster. Every banner waving through the crowd is blue and white. People yell Stesha’s name and stomp their feet.

I sense Zabriel by my side, his eyes fixed on the heavens. “Stesha’s best chance is for Nilak to go for Auryn’s wings. One torn wing means the dragon will be grounded and Stesha and Kane will fight hand to hand. We already know who the better fighter is. Once Kane is knocked out, the fight will be over.” He sounds confident, but I can smell tension in his scent.