Page 13 of The Storm of the Empire (Flyers Of The First Kingdom #3)

TWELVE

LUKA

B y the Goddess, that was incredible.

Breathing hard, I slid from her heat and was pleased when she turned in my arms rather than moving away.

She sighed and smiled lazily, and I found myself leaning in for a tender kiss. She allowed it, and I felt as though I’d somehow tamed a wild creature. I supposed in some ways, it was true.

“I’ve never been with a dragon before,” I admitted.

“We are just like other fae.” We both knew that wasn’t entirely true.

“Right, exactly the same…except all the fire breathing and teeth and stuff. Not a huge difference.”

“Actually, I’m a storm dragon. I wield lightning.”

“Of course you do.” I shook my head, brushing my nose against the cute tip of hers. “Like Nyx?”

“No, nothing like Nyx. His isn’t lightning. It’s darkness. He gets more magic from his mate, but it’s still different than the lightning here. Ours disrupts magic.”

“So you’ve said.” I thought then that she was made of storms. I saw it in her eyes the first night we were together, only I didn’t recognize it then. I did now.

She draped her arms over my shoulders and stroked her fingers through my hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever been with a spy before.”

“You don’t think?”

“Well, if they were a good spy, I would never know.” She grinned, and the lamplight sparkled in her eyes. It was the most at ease I’d ever seen her.

I laughed at her playfulness. “Are you declaring me a bad spy?”

“If the boot fits…”

The mirth in her eyes made me realize I could easily stare into them forever. But thunder reminded me of our situation, and I eased back. “Speaking of boots… We should probably get dressed. I don’t want to get caught with my pants down—literally or figuratively.”

She looked down at our naked forms, right there in the Goddess’ temple, and laughed. “We definitely should. I shudder to think of a priest finding me this way.” Her cheeks heated in the most endearing way, making my cock throb.

I stepped aside so she wouldn’t see I was half hard again so soon. I didn’t want her to take it as an insult, like I wasn’t satisfied. The truth was, much the opposite was true.

She retrieved her clothes, and we both dressed in silence. I didn’t want any awkwardness to develop between us, so I helped her straighten her tunic just as an excuse for some physical contact, but I was at a loss for words. What does one say after a quick tryst in the temple basement? Not awkward at all.

She arranged her belt and then took a beaten water skin from a hook at her hip and offered me some. I took it gratefully, and she watched me drink.

“I think I’d like to hear everything,” she said at length.

I choked. “Everything?”

In all my life, I’d never told anyone everything. I even had secrets from Zaria. I wasn’t proud of them, but it was self-preservation. Always keeping a little back to keep myself intact.

She took a seat on the floor among some sacks and leant her back against a crate, clearly settling in for the rest of the storm, however long it might last. I dropped down beside her and handed her back the water skin.

“I think I need to know, so that I can understand.”

“But—” I swallowed. “I am under orders to only report to Nyx and Jaxus. I don’t want to give information I shouldn’t, or worse, involve you in something dangerous when I could protect you by leaving you out of it.”

“Have you forgotten who I am? Even as a failed flyer with no ryder, I’m one of the most skilled fighters in the kingdoms. And I’m a storm dragon, not a delicate flower.”

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to infer anything of the sort.” I dipped my head in acknowledgment. “You’re tougher than me, I’m not disputing that, but I don’t know how big this thing is yet, and I don’t want anyone put in danger.”

“But you are in my kingdom, alone, with no plan. Nyx doesn’t know you are here. What happens to you if you are discovered?”

“Whatever happens, happens. That’s my whole point. I have no one who will miss me. I’m expendable. It’s worth the gamble.”

She frowned at me. “I don’t think that’s true.”

A spark of something warm, like hope, flickered inside me. Could it be that she would miss me if I just disappeared?

“Zaria would be devastated if you just did not return, and I know Nyx. He wouldn’t bring you in like this if he wasn’t fond of you, too.”

My tiny hope was dashed before it even took hold. Of course Zaria loved me but that was a familial love. I just—I guess—I just wished I’d had the kind of life which had allowed me to cultivate a different connection with someone.

“What is that look for?” she asked as she reached out to touch my arm.

“Nothing. You’re right, Zaria would miss me.” I swallowed back any feelings that were stirring, reminding myself that this was nothing. Merely a tryst.

“Exactly, so you need to make sure you return to her. And the best way you can do that is make sure someone else knows what is going on and can help you.”

“Now you’re offering to help me?” I gawked.

“I don’t even know what you’re up to. Maybe I will, or maybe I will just talk you out of your madness. We won’t know until you tell me everything you know. But one thing is for certain: you won’t get far in Storm without my help.”

Maybe she was right.

Could I take the risk? The deepest part of my gut told me to tell her.

I sighed and gave in, somehow knowing it was the only way.

I told her everything. From the days at the compound, to the Dragon’s Bane supply network, to getting caught up in that whole undead army situation, to coming to the First Kingdom.

We whiled away the storm with my confessions.

I explained how I ended up on the ship, but really, I hadn’t had time to make sense of everything I’d discovered since. The eggs were a new twist I was baffled by.

“So you dressed up as a priest and chased some dragon eggs here? That’s what you want me to believe?”

“Why would I be lying to you?”

“To get me on your side so I help you.”

“I could have done that with Dragon’s Bane, which was the only thing I was after in the first place.” I held her gaze, willing the Goddess for her to trust me.

“Well, it’s none of the concern of Storm. We don’t give the priests our eggs.”

“Doesn’t every kingdom give the priests their eggs? I know I’m quite new to all of this, but from what I’ve heard, the dragons need the help of the nurseries the priests run to hatch their eggs successfully. They protect them.”

“Not Storm eggs. We hatch those ourselves. Our magic is such that only we can care for our eggs the way they need, so why would they be smuggling any dragon eggs through here?”

“Taking them somewhere else?”

“We’re nearly impossible to traverse, and you can’t get to other kingdoms from here,” she shot back, taking out every argument I had.

But it struck me that she was wrong. I knew the maps after being aboard ships for months after my village burned. “You border the Ninth Kingdom, though.” The name escaped me, but I knew the numbers and where they were placed, as that’s how the King and most ships referred to them.

“It’s impassible. The storms are too bad, and you risk more than just the lightning. Tornados ravage the path, and rivers wash out the valleys.” The way she spoke about it made it sound like a tragedy.

“Then I don’t know why they’d bring them here.”

“It’s just not adding up. They keep the eggs safe and in perfect hatching condition to maximize their chances of survival. Why on earth would they move them? Especially crates of them. They are too precious to risk like that! We only have one dragon with an egg in Storm right now.” She shook her head like it was absurd.

“What do you mean only one dragon with an egg?” Surely, I’d misheard her.

She stared at me. “You know dragons lay those eggs, right?”

I gave her an exasperated glance. “I’m fucking aware of how your reproduction works. I do educate myself when I find a gap in my knowledge. I meant how is there only a singular dragon with an egg in the whole kingdom?”

“Do you really not know? I guess this gives credence to your whole story about not being raised knowing about magic.”

“Enlighten me then.”

“Storm dragons are exceedingly rare.” She held up a hand before I could speak. “Yes, all dragon eggs are rare, but in Storm, we take that to a different level. We usually only have one or two a generation.”

How could there be this much I didn’t know? All these facts every other Storm fae learned as a child, I was completely oblivious to. “I knew you were rare but?—”

It took her a minute to process what I meant, but recognition crept into her expression.

She shot me a flat look. “Don’t even start.”

We drifted in and out of conversation for a few hours while the storm showed no signs of stopping, both of us trying to unpick the situation in our own minds.

“Why would priests take dragon’s eggs?” she asked the question I’d been wondering since finding them. “They are trusted with their care, and then if they are successfully hatched, they are returned to their parents to raise to maturity. No dragon would ever give their egg over if they thought they were being shipped off to other kingdoms. What purpose does that serve?”

“It can’t be for a good reason,” I mused, not fully getting it myself. “What happens to an egg if it doesn’t hatch successfully?”

“It think the family is notified, and it is destroyed by dragon fire to return the spirit of the unborn to the Goddess.”

I digested that for a few moments, wondering if I could possibly think so little of the priesthood that I could believe them capable of falsifying egg deaths in order to somehow steal viable dragons for some purpose. Then I thought on it, and given everything else I had seen which somehow involved the priests, was it so unfathomable?

“What are you thinking?” she asked, seeming to somehow know I was on the brink of an idea forming.

“I’m not sure I want to put it into words,” I admitted.

“It can’t be worse than what I was thinking,” she sighed. “I guess I just wanted to see if you had reached the same conclusion.”

“That they are stealing eggs and claiming they just didn’t hatch?”

“When you say it out loud, I want to vomit.” She clutched her stomach. “Who would do such a thing? And why?”

“Who knows. Maybe to build an army?” It’s all I could come up with. “Or perhaps simply to weaken one?”

We exchanged a look. It was clear we needed to find out, but it felt so huge that we both just settled into contemplative silence.

Finally, the storm began to die down. “Thats a relief,” she said, eyeing the ceiling. “I probably missed dinner. My dad will be so disappointed.”

The concept of a caring family was so foreign to me, I almost couldn’t fathom why someone would care about missing a meal.

“You should go if you think they will be worried,” I offered. It was probably time for me to get back to my room if the priests were likely to be moving around soon.

“Don’t you want me to help you look around?”

“Do you think we can do so safely?” I asked.

“Of course you can—with my help. You need it.”

I had doubts. I didn’t want her to be a liability if she wasn’t truly invested, but I also couldn’t say that to her. “If you’d rather send me on my way…”

“No. You need the help, and Nyx is my friend. I will help you find answers for him.”

“You cannot breathe a word of this to anyone else. You must swear to me.”

“I swear. But no promises on how long I will help if I think you’re doing something wrong. I will fly straight back to the First Kingdom.”

“I won’t do wrong. I swear it.”