Page 47 of Valor’s Flight (The New Protectorate #5)

The Collapse was something she knew well.

It was the great age of calamity that had struck mainland Europe and Asia — a time of terrible disease, famine, and war.

It was ultimately what had pushed her grove out of the God Forest, up through Europe, and ultimately to the UTA over the course of generations.

But she didn’t know Isand Jaak. The hair on her arms stood on end when Taevas said his name.

Alashiya tentatively touched the hard line of Taevas’s jaw. “Tell me about the tapestry.”

He tilted his head into her hand without hesitation. “Don’t you want to hear about the rest?”

“Yes,” she replied, offering him a small smile, “but I won’t pry. Especially before you’ve had any coffee.”

The crow’s feet deepened around his eyes, but his mouth didn’t curve in a real smile.

Defying her weak attempt to lighten the mood, he said, “I’ve asked everything of you, Alashiya, and offered nothing because right now I am nothing.

If I can give you my story and have it be the real start of this thing between us, then I would like to. ”

She recalled how he’d touched her the night before, and the long thread of familiarity that had connected them for a decade. “I thought we started ten years ago.”

Taevas moved his hands from the armrests of her chair to her knees. Despite his inherent grandeur, he looked subdued, somehow. Gentled. It was hard not to look that way, she guessed, when he was on his knees before her, his head bowed.

“Adon and his metsalill started ten years ago,” he gravely replied, “but Taevas and Alashiya start today.”

Her heartbeat quickened. All at once, the whispers went silent. The ghosts, like her, waited for him to speak.

“My clan is A?daja. We have never been entirely noble or noteworthy. Some of my ancestors did well and others were paupers. We were lords one generation and thieves the next.” He used his practiced, rakish smile.

His violet eyes glittered with warmth when he continued, “My most famous ancestor was a carpenter who became Isand after he saved a princess besieged by two evil dragons.”

Alashiya huffed a soft laugh. “I’d say it runs in your family, but the only dragon I’ve ever been besieged by is you.”

Giving her knees a squeeze, he said, “Let’s keep it that way, yes?”

“You’re the only dragon I have eyes for.” She intended for it to come out far lighter than it did, but there was truth in the words, and it was a heavy thing.

Taevas sucked in a deep breath. “I’m not an easy dragon,” he warned her, seemingly against his better judgment.

“I think you’ve figured that out by now, but I need you to be sure.

I’m stubborn, arrogant, and need to be in control at all times.

I’m also… There are parts of me, parts of being a dragon, that I’ve locked away for a very long time, my Shiya.

A better dragon, a less scarred one, would—”

He cut himself off and looked away, his expression tight with self-recrimination. Mindful of the precious cargo in her lap, Alashiya leaned forward to brush her fingers over his hair in a soothing stroke. “What, argaman mlk?”

Taevas closed his eyes. “When I was five, my family fled the end of the Collapse. Our wealth was gone, food was scarce. My parents worried about what would happen to me. Like many others, they petitioned Isand Jaak, the wealthiest dragon in the UTA, for help in setting up a new life. The deal was that they pledged allegiance to him and would fight for him in the Great War in exchange for it.”

Alashiya’s stomach tightened. “That sounds like an easy way for a powerful man to exploit the desperate.”

“It was.” Taevas opened his eyes. Anger, old and deeply-rooted, glowed in them.

“And if you didn’t hold up your end of the bargain or became more trouble than you were worth, he’d abandon you.

If you suddenly found your new roost on enemy lines?

Tough. He wouldn’t send help or evacuate you.

We were entirely expendable. Dragons have wings, he’d say.

Why don’t you fly? As if it’s ever so easy when you’ve got young, or a mate, or… ”

Speaking in barely a whisper, she asked, “Is that what happened to you?”

“No.” He wouldn’t look at her, then. His eyes roved around the room, restless and seeking, while his hands remained locked on her knees, like he had to hold on tight or he’d float away.

“Toward the end of the war, Jaak took on a scorched earth policy. Instead of targeted attacks, he’d command his dragons to burn whole cities from above.

United Washington was one of them, Baltimore another.

There were countless towns along the border, too — all destroyed so that the Orclind’s troops or the shifters wouldn’t have a place to hide or a scrap to eat. ”

Echoes of memories from her ancestors rippled through the threads in her mind. While she had never experienced the fury of dragonfire, someone in her line had. She could almost hear the terrible roar of blue flame as it consumed everything and everyone in its path.

She found his hands on her knees and squeezed. He wasn’t the only one who had to anchor himself in the present.

Taevas twined their fingers together. In a lower, thicker voice, he said, “My mother was one of his soldiers. When the order came down to her— She couldn’t. She had young at home, and a Chosen. Knowing that there were families in those towns, how could she follow his order?”

Horror gripped her throat and squeezed. “What did he do?”

“I was fifteen. To keep me out of trouble and away from fighting, my father had sent me off to apprentice with a carpenter. I only allowed it because I wanted to emulate my ancestor, Isand Vanasarvik. I was living and working in a shop a few towns over when Jaak sent his men to our house.”

Taevas brought one of her hands to his lips.

When he spoke next, it was into the palm of her hand, like he wished to give the words to her, to let her take them far away.

“He had my father, a teacher who never fought a day in his life, beaten and executed in front of my mother. Then he burned our home down. The goal was to kill me, too, but he couldn’t find me.

That was another one of his policies: defiance had to be answered with complete annihilation. ”

Sickness churned in her gut. “Oh, Taevas. I’m…”

He kissed her palm. “I know. Thank you, metsalill.”