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

TWO

HAZEL

W hy was I even considering this?

I needed my head looked at by a mind healer…though those were all but extinct, weren’t they? I blinked into the mirror in my bathing chamber, studying myself. I’d added a little kohl around my eyes and a little shimmer to my eyelids, something I never did. Maybe Kiera should assess me for madness? I’d been left too long without finding my ryder and was surely sinking into an altered mental state.

I’d sworn off dating for too long to let a male like Luka in.Well into my thirties, I’d accepted my future status as a cat lady since I’d never be able to take my place in the King’s Army.

Is this what madness looked like? Agreeing to go out with a fae few knew anything about, except that he had already made a name for himself as quite the libertine? That, and for being the first fae ever to be accepted into the weapons classes here without being a part of the legion and only after half a year. It was unheard of and, dare I say, unthinkable. I knew better than anyone that exceptions should be made for those with the skill, but that was not the way of the kingdoms.

I had waited a lifetime for such a concession to be made, to allow me to fly with the legion without a ryder. I certainly had the skill, if not the enhanced magic, but I remained grounded nonetheless. I’d had some kinship with Nyx when he was unable to fly with the legion, which, as the next General was a huge issue, but now, even he’d found his ryder. I found myself left behind.

The first disappointment of a dragon to the Storm Kingdom. Only made worse by my mother being one of the best flyers the Twelve Kingdoms had ever seen.

So, out of principle, I had refused Luka access to my classes when the special request was made. If the other instructors approved, let them take him. I would not. Or so I thought. Now, here I was, gifting him the opportunity to charm his way not only into my class but possibly into my bed, too. Yet I couldn’t make myself rescind it. I was too intrigued, and he was too intoxicating.

I hated that I liked him.

He was the first male in years to excite me, which told me enough about his type.

Maybe losing my mind wasn’t a snap but a slow decent. Did fae sink into it with full knowledge while unable to do anything about it?

I huffed and turned away from my reflection, collecting my bag and heading for the door. I told myself it wasn’t worth stopping into the healer’s wing to end this madness when what I wanted was exactly what he was offering. A good time that ended with his promised ‘ kiss.’

I walked with purpose through the city, unintimidated by the parties of drunken males who thought to catcall me. If there was not a flyer in the kingdom who could best me on the mats, then no mere fae had a chance. Anyone who got a second look at me realized it, too. My reputation in the kingdom preceded me.

I’d insisted on meeting Luka at the tavern because I could not stomach the awkwardness of the stroll together. He’d at least given me the courtesy of agreeing whereas other, more chauvinistic males would have insisted I needed an escort. As if I couldn’t take care of myself. How fucking insulting.

I pushed through the door of the Flaming Pegasus and located him through the thriving crowd. He sat alone and alert with two tankards of the tavern’s finest ale waiting on his table. When he saw me, he waved me over eagerly, but not desperately in any way. It was a skill to be so keen and yet not make himself look thirsty. I couldn’t deny I liked that about him already.

“Right on time,” he said, standing as I approached. He didn’t reach out for me or make any kind of move to greet me physically. He merely smiled warmly, then sat after I had taken my seat.

Had someone warned him I wasn’t a hugger? Or was I giving more barbed vibes than I thought?

Good. I liked who I was.

“Hello,” I said awkwardly, setting down my bag. I looked at his affable face and couldn’t find any further words of greeting.

Fuck, this was awkward.

What was I doing here?

It would have been easier to just let him into my bed and skip all the awkward pleasantries.

“I took the liberty of getting you a drink,” he said, nudging one of the tankards towards me.

“Thank you,” I replied, still stilted and awkward.

Goddess spare me from this ordeal. I was too old for small talk and getting to know people. Why was it such a chore to start conversations with someone new? Why wasn’t there a way to skip all of that?

“You didn’t strike me as a shy female when I saw you practicing today,” he said with a smirk, making it almost a taunt.

“I’m not,” I agreed with a measure of defiance.

By the Goddess, I was the toughest warrior in the kingdom. I just had no way to really prove my might when I couldn’t join the legion. But even those who saw me as less than were quickly schooled if they tried to meet me with a weapon. And that was without the enhanced power I would have to match them if I had a ryder of my own. I would be unstoppable with a ryder, but I had begun to give up hope of it ever coming to pass.

“Then what has you looking like prey caught in a dragon’s sight who wants to run as far away from me as possible?” he asked, summoning me from my thoughts.

I shook off my trepidation and decided on attack as my best form of defense. “I’m just asking myself why I’m giving time to a non-flying fae who thinks he is special enough to train with the elite of this kingdom when such a privilege should only be open to those the Goddess chooses.”

“How do you know she hasn’t chosen me?” he shot back like an arrogant fuck.

Why did I like it?

I wrinkled my nose. I’d gone too long without amusement. The palace had become my tomb of boredom. That’s why I was here. I longed for anything else.

But I wouldn’t let him win so easily.

I looked around deliberately with a frown. “I don’t see a dragon with you. What else could possibly qualify you?”

He leaned in with a raised brow and a wry smile. “You’re mistaken. I am with a dragon.”

“Not what I meant and you know it,” I growled and emitted a small puff of smoke before I could catch myself.

“Steady on.” He held up his hands in supplication. “Don’t burn the tavern down. I like it here.”

I merely rolled my eyes. “As if I would lose control because of anything you could say to me.”

He lifted a brow. “That sounds like challenge.”

“You want me upset?” I asked, shocked and not sure how to feel about the admission.

“Not at all. I’d say I’d prefer worked up.”

I rolled my eyes. “You don’t stop do you?”

“Never. Unless I’m asked. But you haven’t asked.”

I huffed again, taking a sip of my ale so I wouldn’t say something I regretted because, despite every red flag, I did like his attention.

After a few moments, Luka broke the silence. “Listen, as I said earlier, I have my uses. I serve the General, and in return, he has graciously allowed me to keep up a personal passion. It’s not like I’m hoping to graduate as a ryder. That is not my future. I simply like to train, and there is facility to do so in the palace.”

I sat back in my chair, relaxing slightly. Something about combat, be it verbal or physical, always put me at ease, and I felt myself unwinding. “Well, it’s nice for you that you have friends in high places, then. Not everyone is so lucky.”

“I would be if you’d let me progress to your class.” He folded his arms in challenge. “There are no worthy opponents in the lower classes. It’s a bore.”

I shook my head. “You’ll have to be content with the trainers who have accepted you. Only the chosen train in my classes.”

“That’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think?” He smirked with a light in his eyes like he could bait me into what he wanted.

Maybe I’d let him, if only just to cure some of the monotony.

“Meaning?” But not that easily.

He raised a brow. He knew I knew. “Do you just want me to say it out loud? Because I’ll feed your ego if I must.”

“So you have done your research on me,” I said defiantly.

“I asked around after you agreed to come out with me. People speak very highly of you.”

“People are either too afraid to harm their career by speaking ill of me or are actually afraid of my sword. There is no respect among the flyers for a dud in their midst, however skilled.”

“A dud?” he asked.

“A dragon with no ryder. If a dragon cannot fulfill its destiny by being called to their ryder and bonding its magic with theirs, then they are considered a dud.”

“That’s pretty harsh. And it’s utter nonsense. Skill itself earns respect, dragon or not,” he countered.

“You don’t know dragons,” I said flatly. “Dragon culture is harsh. Duds are considered defective. Forgotten by the Goddess and unworthy. There is no place for us in dragon society because we aren’t allowed in the army.”

Luka’s head shook as I spoke like he was rejecting the notion, but he couldn’t possibly understand. “That seems like a waste of a good dragon. You’re still young.” He waved at me. “Nyx was older than you before he found his ryder, right?” he asked with all the optimism of a fae who was totally unfamiliar with dragon culture.

“Wrong. Nyx was called to Zaria as a young boy. He knew she was out there. He just had to find her. I have no such hope.”

Not at my age. I was considered an old maid even by modern standards.

“And you haven’t had the call?” he asked softly.

I shook my head.“I’ve never even had an inkling of a pull towards a ryder.”

“And there is meant to be a ryder for all dragons?”

“So says dragon lore. I mean, no, not every dragon gets a ryder—duds aren’t uncommon. I’m not alone. It’s thought that when a dragon never gets the call, their ryder must have died in their youth. But some, those with more puritanical beliefs, think that a dud happens when a dragon goes against the Goddess in a past life or isn’t deserving of one because of their character.” I didn’t want to talk about it. It was too depressing.

“It’s a slight against your character?!” Luka scoffed. “That sounds like the nonsense I was raised on.”

“Well, nonsense or not, I don’t have a ryder, so I’m a dud, and there are enough dragons who believe the nonsense that they’d never allow for me to be more than the weapons instructor.”

“Couldn’t your ryder be out there somewhere and you just haven’t found them yet?”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t work that way. The call to them would be irresistible wherever they happened to be.”

“So that’s it?” Luka’s shoulders sank in disappointment, as if he was fully invested in my hunt for a ryder for a moment, and I’d dashed his hopes. “You’re just giving up?”

I lifted my tankard and took a long drink. Setting it back down, I mustered the courage to look him in the eyes and admit to him something I have hardly even admitted to myself: “I think I’m starting to accept it.” I looked away, scanning the bar for anyone I wouldn’t want hearing me say such a thing, then returned my full attention to him. “Truthfully, while I have never given up hope that the Goddess would call me when it was my time, I acknowledge that time has all but gone. It’s extremely unusual to be my age and still waiting. It happens, but it’s rare. I maintain a positive front on the matter because I worry the King will declare me unfit to even teach in the legion if I’m officially declared dud. But I’m starting to accept my fate more and more as time passes.”

Luka reached across the table without hesitation and took my hand in his. His skin was warm, and when I met his intense gaze, his eyes were burning with something I couldn’t read. “You should never give up hope.”

“I’ll always believe it’s possible if it’s the Goddess’ wish. I’m just being a realist.”

“Eh, reality is overrated if you ask me!” He smiled, instantly lightening the mood. “Let’s just believe what we want to believe and enjoy what this wonderful place has to offer.”

I caught his infectious smile and felt all the weight of my doubts and fears lifting off my shoulders. What magic was this he wielded? I laughed, surveying the tavern. “This wonderful place?”

“This city.” He shrugged.

I tilted my head in a silent question.

“Where I come from—what I come from—I could have never imagined a place like this existed. The freedom, the joy, the?—”

I scoffed. “The impending threat of war?”

Luka leaned in towards me. “I’ll take it. Even that. It’s better than a life of nothing but subsistence. Where I grew up, every day was the same.”

I studied him. “Does nothing faze you?”

He gave me a long look, thinking. “Only being rejected by the best weapons instructor in all the kingdoms.”

I groaned. “I walked right into that, didn’t I?” Luka’s smile was contagious, but I tried to fight it as I held my ground. “I’m not budging, Luka. You’re not a chosen.”

“You could choose me,” he argued so smoothly it almost threw me off.

“I am not the Goddess!”

“Says who? You look like one to me.”

“The blasphemy!” I rolled my eyes, refusing to let him know I liked the compliment. “If I were, I’d spare myself the ordeal of this conversation.”

“No, you would not. You’re having too much fun sparring with me. Think of how much more fun it would be with a sword in hand.”

A pulse of actual desire shot through my body at the mental image. Him sweaty and breathing hard as I worked him over.

His chuckle shattered the image, and I felt my face color at the knowing look in his eyes. How easily he derailed the conversation, but I wasn’t ready to give in to his charm yet.

“Why do you deserve to be the exception?” I asked, but I couldn’t help but feel he might.

He transformed in an instant. There were no more jokes. A realness took over his gaze, and he settled into a somber tone.“Because maybe it will give me purpose. A place here.”

“You have a place. You’ve been granted a special exception for weapons classes.” More than was ever granted to me. I had to fight for every inch granted to me, and he’d just breezed in here and was given it all. Typical male.

“But I don’t. Not really. I’m the fifth wheel, and I’m not even that useful.” He searched my face then turned away, getting a far-off look in his eyes. “I don’t plan on sticking around long, so please, indulge me for a little while.” There was a hint of something he held back.

I stared at him, lost for words as he said so much of what I felt. But he could leave. I couldn’t. Dragons had to stay in the capital.

Luka stood abruptly and held out a hand for me. “Come on, let’s walk.”

I took it without thinking it through, and before I knew it, I was being led through the crowd with his warm fingers woven through mine. Out in the square, fresh air felt like a balm to my overheated skin.

“If you could do anything, what would it be?”

“Fly in the army,” I said wistfully.

“Why?” He side-eyed me, asking something I’d never considered.

I thought for a long moment. “Because I don’t want to disappoint my parents. I’m a storm dragon, and it’s the highest honor in my family to be a flyer.” It was so much more than that, but that was the short of it. I was left my mother’s shoes, and I could never fill them.

“But what if you didn’t feel the need to be what anyone else wanted you to be?” He stopped, turning to face me. “What would you do then?”

“That’s a hard one.”

“Maybe you should consider what life looks like without a path forged for you. It’s what I have to do.”

“What would you do if you were me?” I turned it back on him, truly at a loss for what else I would do.

“If I could fly, I’d never be on the ground.”

“I don’t fly enough.” I sighed, longing to be back in my kingdom and able to fly like storm dragons were meant to.

“I can help you fly.”

“Help?” Before I could come to my senses, Luka had pulled me into the alley beside the tavern and pressed me into the ancient wall.

“Say you’ll let me train with you, and I’ll give you that kiss,” he breathed. His eyes were roaming all over me, even in the darkness. I knew he couldn’t see like I could in this light, but I still felt undressed by his gaze.

“You’re not chosen,” I reminded him indignantly, gasping as his lips skimmed the sensitive skin along my neck. I had to fight the urge to lean into him even as I prayed he would press a kiss there.

“Then choose me.” He inhaled as if scenting me, like he was one of my kind. This regular fae who was towered over by all the surrounding warriors had all the swagger and presence of a dragon when it came down to it, and it did things to me.

“I—”

He caught my face in his hands, giving a shake of his head. “Whatever argument you’re putting together in that cunning mind of yours, stop! You can choose me. You can choose to train me. You can choose to fuck me. Your choice, Hazel. And you know you already have, so stop putting up barriers and let me in.”

He drew his nose down my neck, letting me feel the press of his body and warmth of his breath. Heat pooled inside me, and I squirmed beneath him, wanting to feel more than just his body pressed against me.

“In where?” I stammered, ashamed at myself for the breathy whimper that should have been a challenge.

“Ultimately, your class and your bedchamber.” He nipped at my collar bone. “But right now, I’ll settle for just in your pants.” His fingertips skimmed under the hem of my tunic, igniting the skin they met.

I sucked in a breath, and he chuckled, lowering to a knee at my feet. I gasped and grabbed for his shoulder. “Now?” I hissed in a panic.

“I can’t wait to kiss you.” He brushed his nose across my stomach.

I clenched my thighs, soaked from the idea alone. “Well, get up and kiss me then, for the Goddess’ sake!” I demanded. Anything to get him back on his feet.

He lifted my tunic and glanced up. “I told you it wasn’t going to be on your lips.”

I squirmed against my will—even my cold dark dragon heart fluttered. “But here?”

His eyes glittered with the light of the stars in the darkness, and I knew I was done for. “Here,” he said decisively and unlaced my leathers.

“Goddess spare me from myself,” I whispered as he peeled my leathers away, and without warning he ran his tongue straight through me, causing my nerves to sing.

Allowing him in my class was going to be awkward after this…but that didn’t mean I wanted him to stop.