Romance Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Forever ❯ Forever ( Chapter 1 )

Red. Endless red. It is everywhere; coating the walls; staining my clothes; slicking my skin. The death of my first royal and I feel nothing but a detached sense of betrayal and emptiness where the bond should have existed.

It is done, it's over, my numb mind finally registers in the ringing silence.

I flick the blood from my fingers as I continue to stare at the torn pieces of flesh that had once been my…master. In the silence one of the nobles nervously turns to his neighbor to say something, his jade green robe rustling slightly. He freezes beneath my cool gaze, terror written upon his face.

No one speaks, no one moves, no one breathes. They know this is the price and yet the fools had dared to hope that I would overlook my royal's cruelty, that I would not notice whom had twisted him and led him down this path. My gaze sweeps over the court, taking in each tense, frightened face that stares back, the stench of their fear. Fools, the lot of them.

I spin on my heel and stride from the once lavish throne room and ignore the guards that scramble to open the doors for me. I pause long enough to order the new Heshen general to dispatch his troops to take care of the fire that rages within the city. He meets my gaze and does not flinch away like the others, the ashes from an earlier fire still clinging to his grim, tired features. Not quite a man, not quite a youth, but enough strength to command the royal troops while the king, my…old…royal, went mad and began his murderous rage. He alone remained steadfast in his loyalty to me, a loyalty that cost him his family and a debt I will never be able to pay.

My eyes follow after him for a moment, lingering on the dark hair that falls to his shoulders. He will be good for my next royal, will guide them properly, if I can ever gather the courage to choose the next ruler for my country. I know it is my duty as Dragon Riagenkai to choose a fitful ruler, but if the last is an indication of the future then I no longer want the responsibility.

For the wings of me I do not know what it is that compels the Dragon Guardian of each throne to seek out each new ruler. Some would believe that it is a spell cast upon us when we…accept…the position, others would believe that it is a higher being that guides our steps, and still others would believe that dragons are so inherently good that our instincts lead us to find the best person to rule.

All are interesting concepts, but we dragons are as corrupt a lot as the humans and there is no spell or great ceremony when we are forced into the exile that is this post. What I do know is that when I was first instructed to find my first ruler an irritating itch I can't scratch filled my body. When I did nothing it flared into an unbearable burning sensation and drove me wild. Once I finally began the search the burning subsided into a pull that constantly shifted. I followed as best I could and eventually found a man curled up, dying in a dried up riverbed far to the south of Regenku.

I look up, slightly surprised to see the door that leads to my personal chambers. Intertwining dragons adorn the cold wood; their sinewy wings spread to the full extent; their ruby, angry eyes staring back. I scowl back at them for a moment before I push through them and collapse onto my bed, barely registering the man that stands tensely by the balcony door.

“Quite the…ah…show tonight, Lord Farin,” the man murmurs quietly.

Show? Show? Is that what they think of the execution of my ruler, an entertainment? But, no, this particular noble is smarter than that. He's just nervous and fumbling for the right words to convey his purpose for intruding in my personal chambers; still, I'm tired and angry and his presence is deterring me from getting the sleep I so desperately need to begin healing.

“What do you want, Kiragashi?” I ask, my voice unintentionally sharp.

I know this man means me no harm just as I know he had no part in the ring that tainted my royal, but that doesn't quell the hate I feel; irrational and unprovoked. As though he can sense my rage he takes a step back and lowers his gaze from mine. To say that the man is plain would be an unfair but accurate description of him. The only feature that he possesses to make him stand out is his silver eyes. An uncommon eye color to be sure of, but nothing unheard of, especially when they are the customary color for the head of his family.

“What do you want?” I ask again, softening my tone a fraction.

“The ministers have called an emergency meeting,” he responds without meeting my gaze. “I'm positive that they are going to challenge you for the right to rule.”

“I know. They did the same to my predecessor before she disappeared,” I say, a note of the old bitterness coloring my voice. If that bitch hadn't disappeared when she had, if she hadn't just left… I clamp down on the thoughts before they can distract me and instead focus on Kiragashi.

He finally looks up, his eyes blazing with an odd intensity that unsettles even me. “Then you know, too, that they will tear this country apart and the nobles remaining will hoard every ounce of their wealth and drive their people until there is nothing to be left of the land,” he pauses to study me for a long moment, “I wish at least for my daughters to escape the hell that will consume us and continue until you find a proper ruler.”

His words sting, but there is no way to refute that which is true. Instead of engaging him in a fight, as my body was so willing to do at the moment, I say, “Then take a few horses and flee. I will make your excuses for you when the court makes an inquiry.”

Kiragashi looked away from me for a moment, his fists clenching and unclenching in an unconscious beat to his thoughts. “Kokutoma and Riana are rulerless, Jesira's courts are corrupt, and I can't remember the last time Adair's queen admitted refugees from other countries. No, there will be no fleeing to those lands.”

I tense, thinking of the last place he has not mentioned; the dragons keep is a safe haven to only dragons now and any human that dares approach is dealt a punishment far worse than death. “You are not thinking of fleeing to the Trestri Mountains, are you?” I ask, studying his calm reaction to my words.

He gives a jerky nod but shrugs. “I had thought of it, but I do not believe the dragons would be so inclined as to help my family,” he answers, his voice becoming even the more time passes and I show no outward signs of aggression.

“You're right,” I say, my voice soft and dangerous. “There's no way in dragon's hell that they would ever help a human like you even if I were to ask them to provide it.” I raise myself into a sitting position and try to catch his eye. “You would be better off in Kokutoma than fleeing to that hellhole. Now, what are you really here for? If it is to ask my permission to flee, you never needed it.”

Kiragashi's eyes snap to mine, the silver within them swirling in an odd dance. “No, I didn't come to ask permission. I came to ask your help in creating new identities for myself, my daughters, and their mothers.”

“What of the rest of your clan?” I question, feeling oddly as though he is hiding something from me. This is the man known not for his fighting power, but for his charm with the opposite sex. He is the male version of a seductress and with that charm he was able to seduce two of the highest noble daughters, make them fall in love with him, and have his children.

Does he think to win my favor by saving his children and their mothers while condemning the rest of them to whatever fate awaits them at the hands of the ministers?

As though he can read my thoughts he averts his gaze and shifts from one foot the other. “They have allied themselves with Morion. I have no wish to be caught up in their games and so, I seek your help in making a new start for myself and the family that matters to me.”

In the three hundred years or so that I've lived I've seen enough of my father's dragon court to understand a noble's mind. A trade of favors, a dance of words. Why should this one be any different? Kiragashi is after something else, other than a way to ensure the safety of his daughters and their mothers.

“Then why not go to the Basalt family? Surely they would be more than happy to protect their daughters in any way,” I say, keeping my voice light and neutral.

Still, that doesn't keep him from realizing that I know he's up to something more. His silver eyes flash to mine, understanding and respect reflecting in his gaze. Whatever else can be said about him, he is smart and knows when to stop pushing at me when I'm so close to letting loose on my tightly leashed temper.

“I had not thought of that, Riagenkai. Yes, I think that I will ask them, but I still have one favor to ask of you,” he said, then hesitated. “If you will allow me to ask, that is.”

Alright, maybe I'm not at my best right at this moment. I'm still dancing along the knife edge that drives a dragon's fiery nature and hones the worst of our tempers, but he's intrigued me and I can't help it. What is it that impels this man to risk my anger after he's witnessed the execution of the former ruler at my hand? I give him a short nod of approval.

“Will you at least meet my daughters? I had promised them that much, but if you aren't up to it then I will make the excuse when they ask tonight.”

I can feel the heat rising to my face. Stubborn ass, turning my earlier words back on me like that. A noble's trick, being sarcastic without being rude. Fine.

“I will do that much, but no more,” I answer quietly. “When?”

“Tonight, perhaps.”

“Now?”

A flicker of surprise flashes through across his face. “Yes, Riagenkai,” he says with a small bow. As he turns to go he hesitates, his eyes raking over my stained clothes and matted hair. “Will you-”

“Go and get them,” I snap rather harshly.

Once he is gone I lean forward and cradle my head in my hands. Muncura. Just what I didn't need, a reminder that his blood still stains my skin.

I swallow hard as my memory presents me with exquisite detail of how many pieces I left him in. They'll remove the body from the throne room and burn it. Damn, that still won't clear the smell out. They'll have to light those frivolous candles to mask the scent. The candles will make my nose burn, but they will mask that horrendous scent. I might insist that we hold court in the gardens for the morning. No, they would protest that.

My stomach gives an unpleasant lurch as my thoughts chase one another, going absolutely nowhere as I desperately try to avoid the one subject I don't want to think about. The floor rolls under me and I realize I am on my feet. Allowing a haze to settle over me I strip the clothes from my body, revealing my bronze skin to be stained with the same crimson.

I snatch the cloth from the basin that stands on my chest of drawers and start scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing. I scrub until my skin is red and raw. No reason to leave the scent of the betrayal behind, no reason to remember him. My throat burns suddenly and I blink back a blurriness that doesn't make sense as I drop the cloth back into the water.

It seems time has decided to play tricks on me, because I remember turning to my closet but I can't remember walking into the damned thing or pulling out the plain clothes or tugging them on. Before long there is a light knock on my door and I stare at it, wondering who in dragons hell would come calling after I have just executed the former royal. Then I remember Kiragashi.

“Grent,” I call hoarsely and my Kingen servant appears next to me. I suddenly have to wonder why it is that I agreed to this in the first place. I'm in no fit state to be even speaking with children, let alone a family's heirs. Who knows what I could do to them if they say or make a wrong move.

My gray wolf familiar says nothing, merely gives me a quizzical look, and heaves a heavy sigh. I sway on the spot as his soft footfalls fill the air for a moment before the door swings open to admit Kiragashi and his girls and disappears until the time I next call him.

My nostrils flare as I catch a whiff of lavender, rosemary, and ocean. An odd scent and yet distinctly familiar. I blink and I see the two Kiragashi heirs standing before me, each clinging to their father's hand.

Their hair is a deep crimson-a gift from their mothers-their eyes a darker shade of silver than their sire's. They might have been twins except for the inch difference in their height and the roundness of the five-year-olds face. My eyes shift to the seven-year-olds face and as our eyes meet lightning shoots through me, wood splinters, and the mirror shatters. For just one moment, one infinite moment, flames illuminate her small body giving her an almost demonic look.

My head feels fuzzy, like the air around me is deprived of oxygen. I swallow convulsively as those intent silver eyes continue to bore into me. I feel the heat drain from my limbs as the realization sinks in, as understanding dawns.

Muncura. No, no. A child, this child, as my ruler. There has to have been a mistake, has to have been an error somewhere. Barely two hours after I have executed my last ruler the new royal, my queen, is chosen. There has to have been a mistake. Everything Karu, my mentor, ever taught me goes against a ruler so young and, besides, I am not ready to accept a new master or have another strangle hold placed around my neck, not even by this child.

Even as my mind tries to rebel against it my body moves forward and I drop to my knees before her, my fingers closing around her face and lifting her eyes to mine. By this time Kiragashi has pulled back out into the hall, his younger daughter still clinging to him tighter than before, both clearly frightened by what has just occurred. Obviously they have never seen a ruler and Riagenkai when they find each other for the first time.

None of this matters as she continues to hold my gaze, her silver eyes dancing with keen interest and amusement.

My queen.

My master.

There is no denying what is held in those eyes and I feel a fierce desire to protect her welling up in my chest even as the desire to be free once more wars with it. A soft snarl fills the air and I realize that it issuing from my throat. Clamping my teeth around the sound before I can frighten her I study her for a moment longer before I release her and stand, shifting my gaze to Kiragashi.

No words. Only a nod.

He knows.

Dragon's Hell, this is what he had hoped for? Kiragashi wanted one of his daughters on the throne, to be the one to control me. Why? Is the man so desperate for power that he would sacrifice his daughters for his ambition? Our eyes hold and I understand in that instant that he knows the price and burden that a ruler will bear his or her entire life and I can see that he also knows there is a distinct possibility that he will not survive the attack to come.

Silver eyes slips back to her father. I can feel her gaze boring into me and I suddenly feel uncomfortable, as though she is looking into my very soul. She doesn't need to know the dark horrors that lurk within me. She doesn't need to see the sins of my past that still haunt me.

I turn from the three and retreat into my room, closing the door quietly behind me where I give into the tremors and sink to the floor against the cool wood. My head returns to my hands as I rock back and forth a little and try to decide what is going to happen. Muncura, this is a mess.

The weariness of the day begins to weigh on my body and I can suddenly feel the three hundred years I have lived, each painstaking year. Now this. If the ministers hear of her they're likely to try and kill her, especially with the way Morion has been hinting that my next ruler should be one of them since before I killed my first royal. I'm not stupid, I know that all he really wants is a puppet so that he can pull the strings and control the country without really controlling. And that's what she would be, a toy, if they didn't kill her first.

My body feels as though lead has been introduced to my system, not exactly toxic but enough to slow my reactions. I need sleep, desperately, otherwise tomorrow will be hellish when the ministers formally challenge me for a claim to the throne, not realizing that they have a ruler. Of course I'll deny and they'll protest and that will escalate into a clash of their guards and the royal guard and become something that I will have to personally crush like the first time I became Riagenkai little over fifty years ago.

Screams float in through my open balcony door, alerting me to how much the fire has spread in the last hour. Screw sleep, I need to help them down there before there's nothing left to salvage. I am on my feet and feel the cool air on my face before I'm even really conscious of moving.

My fingers curl around the balcony railing as I stare down at the inferno that is consuming anything and everything in its path. This will make for a long night, I muse as I launch myself from the balcony and transform mid-air and beat my wings a few times to get air under them to descend on the capital city belong, a really long night. All the better to distract me.

 

Morion's jaw is tight as I reiterate my refusal. I can see a vein ticking in his forehead as I continue to speak. Well, if he doesn't like hearing “no” then the bastard can go jump off a mountain and save everyone a headache. Dragon's hell, why did I choose him to serve as one of my ministers and advisor to the king? I knew of his ambitions and nature before I accepted him; perhaps I was foolish enough to believe that the years would change him. Foolish, very foolish.

Well, I won't make that same mistake with my next royal. The thought makes me stumble over my next words and I can see the sudden light in his eyes, an indication that he has a newly forming plan.

“Well, Riagenkai,” he says smoothly. “Since you are so tired, why don't we run through court without you for the day?”

Ah, that old ruse. Try and exclude the dragon from the proceedings and pass laws that will restrict my movements. I fell for it once and I won't fall for it again. I take a step closer to Morion and bring us almost nose to nose. “I am quite well, thank you,” I retort, my voice deceptively soft.

I smile as I see the color drain from his face and I can see in his eyes that he has realized that I may just be unstable from the execution, which has been known to happen. I allow him to carefully step away from me and drop to one knee in a show of submission that I know is just a way of buying himself time. As court proceeds I glance at the empty throne and force down the emotions that it brings. A symbol of the past and foreboding of the future, it feels me with unease.

It isn't until around noon that their guards strike with such precision that the Heshen's men are taken out before they can raise the alarm. My eyes meet Morion's and I know that it will going to take all my remaining strength to subjugate them and the rest of their men.

 

By the time I am through with them, the throne room and the halls beyond are a gory mess. The stench of their fear permeates the air. Every inch of my skin of slicked with their blood, my silver hair now darker than that of the Kiragashi heirs'. Morion escaped the battle, slipped away to a safe place outside my notice.

Pity, I would have loved to have sunk my claws into him and ripped his flesh apart, but laws are laws and I cannot touch him outside of the battlefield.

My eyes scan through the carnage, regret twanging at my conscience, as I remember the faces of the men I had killed. The fear engrained on their faces as I kill burned into my memory now, faces that are added to the long list of those I have killed before. They were good men only fallowing orders, good men that have families that will now starve because their breadwinners died by my hand. Those children will never know their fathers, their wives will mourn their husbands, they…

No, I firmly tell myself, I can't go down that road of thought, not again. It was necessary to kill those men. If I hadn't, they would have risen up again under their minister's order and, right now, that is the last thing that I need. They can hate me if they must, but as long as they remain at court the wives will never be want of food and their children will not lack an education. I will see to that much for those that have nowhere and no one else to turn to.

Shaking my head in a rueful manner I leave the throne room and pick my way through the bodies, being careful not to desecrate them any further. Then it occurs to me that it is oddly silent and that the Heshen was absent from sending men to back me up, unless…

I throw the window to my left open and am met with the sight that confirms my suspicions. The men in the throne room were just a diversion to keep me from coming to Coran's aid in the courtyard below.

A ringing of metal on metal draws my attention and I realize that I have badly miscalculated. My ministers were stronger than I had thought, had bribed or forced more men into their services than I have ever allowed. My blood runs cold. They have been planning this from the beginning, from the moment they came together to turn my old royal against me. So carefully thought out, so meticulously done to keep me blindsided knowing that I can't take on the entire palace even with Coran's strength and aid.

Straining my hearing to the breaking point I can hear the sounds of battle coming from the nobles corridor. So, it has begun. Just like last time, the resistance will be wiped out early on and then the ministers will tell the Dragon Officials that it was a terrible rebellion they crushed and took up the throne to “protect the people and the land until the true ruler comes.”

A low, threatening growl rumbles from deep in my throat as I feel the cold begin to sink into me. Not this time, never again. Damn the laws to hell. If I have to rip out every last one of their throats, I will make sure that my country is protected and cared for until she is ready to rule, even if I have to take the throne myself.

Raising a hand I allow my power to channel itself and take careful aim. I begin firing mechanically. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Every strike hits home and drops an enemy, each time carefully avoiding the red and black uniforms of Coran's men. I turn my head and see one man about to strike Coran down and I move without thinking. The man explodes, splattering the young Heshen general with gore.

General Coran dives through the mess without hesitation and hacks away at another man that was bearing down on one of his men. His sword flashes in the high sun, never pausing, never resting, a deadly dance to those within his reach. I continued blasting, never allowing them for one moment to think that I have forgotten them even as I can feel my limbs grow heavy.

A loud, high-pitched scream fills the air, making my hand stiffen and my attention divert for a moment. The small girl from last night is running from two pursuers intent on their kill; the only shield between her and them the young brown furred monkey Kingen. My right hand slashes through the air, cutting the two men in half and painting the hall with their crimson splatter. The girl barrels past me, her Kingen giving me no notice.

Silver eyes. I hesitate, unsure if I want to leave Coran and the royal guard to fend for themselves. Another scream decides me.

“Grent, look after the men,” I say as I dash down the hall. In no time at all the melee comes into view and it looks as though the entire palace staff have taken up arms against the nobles in the confined space of the hall. No time to think. No time to hesitate. Any in my way will die.

If they've hurt her, if they've done anything to her…so help me, they'll wish for death.

The edges of my vision turn red as I throw myself into the fray, my claws extended; slashing, scanning for that flash of crimson. She is my royal, my queen and no one will harm her, ever.

A flash of red.

There!!!

I snarl viciously as two men get in my way. One swipe of my hand and they are chunks of meat and I have an almost clear path to her. A curse leaves my lips as ten men close around her and the woman she is standing over. Before I can raise my hand to slice them away I feel someone else yanking the power from me before an explosion fills the air, splattering the ten over the walls and knocking a dozen or so off their feet.

Those still standing shake their heads clear of the ringing and identify her as the most immediate threat, closing in on her. They fall where they stand as I cut through them. I've lost count and I don't care.

All that matters is her; protect her, keep her safe. I never should have let her leave me last night. No time to think, to time to regret. All I can do now is keep her safe. They press in on me, try to stay out of my reach, try to keep me distracted. Do they know?

Too many. Too fast. They keep coming. Muncura, how many can this damn place hold? If I don't reach her, it will be too late. My blood is on fire, I can feel it singing to me. I am on the edge and there is no time to rein it in. All that matters is her. My world narrows to her scent, her eyes, her scream.

My sanity shattered in that moment. The world blurs, takes on a ruby taint. I feel the gush of liquid running through my fingers, hear the half screams, taste the iron, but all I see is her terrified face. All I know are the silver eyes that look to me for help.

Slashing, striking, cutting, shredding. They all fall beneath my claws, every last one of them. The pieces and chunks of flesh are beginning to pile up around my feet, but it means nothing to me. I let the last visages of control break and allow the rage to consume me. It's all I know and I won't stop until she's safe.

 

Soft…comfortable…something warm tucked into my side?

These facts barely have time to register in my mind before an ice cold sensation slaps me across the face and forces me back to the present. I gasp and flail wildly for a moment before I regain my balance and realize that I am safe within my own chambers. Turning my head to the side I meet the solemn silver gaze that marks her, my royal. Without thinking I touch her face to reassure myself that she is real and alive. Her skin is warm against my hand and I sigh in relief.

She doesn't appear hurt, but I know better than anyone that hurt can run deeper than the flesh. I wonder for a moment if I have scarred her for life with the little performance I demonstrated earlier.

The slowly drying water drips from my face, leaving my skin with a feeling of dried parchment. She is too small to have thrown water on me and no one who enjoys the full use of their limbs would wake me in such a manner, so that leaves…

“Riagenkai,” a young, rich, familiar male voice says softly.

“How many?” I ask without looking at Coran.

“The nobles or the throne room?” he answers with a sudden hint of apprehension that I have never heard in his voice before. I look at him and he averts his eyes as he sets the water pail down.

My passive gaze has him sweating within a few seconds. He still doesn't realize he is one of the few that is safe from me because of the price he has paid for his loyalty to me. Ah well, I can rectify that notion and his fear in the years to come.

“Both,” I finally say after a long pause. I don't care why I feel as though I must hear the sheer numbers of the men that fell by my hand, but I understand that there is a certain line that I am unwilling to cross and not knowing the price of my rage and battle is only the beginning of that line.

“Sixty nobles from the pieces-” he winces at the word “-we can put together, but there are still at least a dozen yet to be accounted for. As to the throne room…at least three hundred of the four hundred the ministers managed to gather are dead. The rest were either mortally wounded or permanently maimed. Did you really have to disfigure so many men past the point of the Imagi's healing capabilities?”

“They were in my way.” No explanations are needed as Coran's eyes dart to the girl at my side and back again. He knows, he understands, and he'll help me. Something in my chest loosens at the thought.

“Kiragashi was among, but you didn't kill him. He was among the few we found within their familial suites. I suspect that someone within his own family murdered him,” Coran informs me. “Kinnara is safe, as is her daughter and Tara. Until the matter of the murder of their family head is resolved we have detained the last of the living adults and we have separated the children to see if they know anything they would otherwise be unwilling to say in front of their paren-”

“Aunt Kinnara killed father. Fayra and I were there,” the young Kiragashi heir suddenly interrupts him.

“Are you sure, Soren?” Coran asks gently. “Your mother and aunt look similar. Are you certain that it was Kinnara that killed your father?”

I don't have to look at her to know that her eyes have almost turned to ice, I can feel the heat of her anger vibrating deep within me. Shifting slightly I turn my head to see her still at my side. “Calm,” I tell her quietly. “He means you no harm, young one. He merely wishes to be sure before he arrests her.”

Her gaze softens a little as she turns her head to look me in the eye. “I know,” she replies sourly and I have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. She is so young, so innocent. “Henen has never done nothin' funny to me `n Fayra.”

I can feel her pain throbbing like my own. “What do you mean by funny?” I ask gently, my amusement fading as quickly as it had sparked.

“Riagenkai,” Coran interrupts me quickly as though he can sense my growing anger. I reluctantly turn my gaze to him. “I've already dealt with the family members that sought to hurt her. They found themselves in a very deep, very watery grave.”

I study him for a moment before I decide that he isn't lying to try and abate my anger towards a noble family. No, this is the young general that takes his duty very seriously. He would not lie to me for the sake of a handful of bastards that would hurt a child for their amusement. Giving a short nod I add, “Very well.” Then I shift my now numb legs to the side of my bed and make to stand, trying not to wince at the tingle as the blood flow returns.

Glancing over my shoulder I'm not surprised to see that Soren is still huddled among the sheets, shivering and clasping her knees to her chin. I hold my hand down to her and say, “Come, young one. I need to make arrangements for you today to keep you from the prying eyes of the court until you're ready to rule.”

“`m not a royal,” she protests. “Mama says the rulers are older and stronger to ensure the prosperty of the kingdom.”

“Prosperity,” I mildly correct her. “And you're right. Rulers are typically older than seven, which is why I need you to grow up a little more before I formally recognize you as my royal and master.”

Soren looks at me as if she can't comprehend what I'm saying, then she breaks into a huge grin and begins half singing, “Fayra's gonna be jealous. I'm a royal and she's not. Fayra's gonna be jealous. I'm a royal and she's not.” She hops down from the bed and ducks under my reaching grasp and runs to Coran, who kneels down and catches her. He swings her into the air and brings her around to settle on his hip with shocking ease.

“Yes, little one, you are, but that title carries more weight than the position of Heshen. Do you remember when I told you that the only person I am required to yield to is the ruler?”

Her childish amusement fades the longer Coran speaks to her and I can't help the tiny spark of resentment that flares in my chest. I smother it before it can take root. He has known her longer, has probably taken care of her for a number of years before this so it is only natural that she would listen to him before me. Still, that doesn't completely diminish the protective side of my nature that demands I kill the usurping male before he takes her away from me forever and again I squash the instinct before it can take root.

Dragons are territorial and temperamental to an extreme. My kind have been known to fight over mates, food, land, servants, swords, gold, scales that have molted off with age, a pile of rocks, dung, and the list goes on with the end result being that we have nearly exhausted our species to the point of extinction. Our females don't breed fast enough and the hatchlings that do break their eggs or are born live are either left to die by mothers who are not interested in raising young or they do not attach, or bond, to an adult in their prime with sufficient power to meet their needs.

My attention is diverted back to the present by the sound of Soren's voice shrieking at the top of her lungs and a flustered Heshen trying to calm the squalling girl. In the few moments that I wasn't paying attention something happened. “Coran?” I ask, stepping to her side and kneeling beside her. “What happened?” I try not to wince as the sheer volume of her screams threaten to rupture my eardrums.

He hesitates and I give him a penetrating look.

“I tried explaining to her why she has to leave the palace and I didn't get very far past the part of leaving the palace,” he finally answers, having to raise his voice over that of Soren's. “She doesn't normally scream.”

“Soren!” I exclaim and successfully gain her attention. Gentling my voice I say, “Enough. You won't be gone forever. Just long enough for you to come of age so you may properly rule. Do you understand? You won't be alone. Your mother and sister will be going with you too. How does that sound? Is that good?”

She rubs her red, puffy eyes and nods her understanding. Relief swamps me, concern I hadn't known that I was harboring releases itself and I feel lighter than I have in centuries. What is it about this child that does this to me? How does she affect me so?

I let the thoughts pass. Soren is young yet and she will need the support that her family will lend her, but I will only allow her closely related family anywhere near her during these tremulous times. She will not rule for years yet, but the country will need someone strong enough to subdue the ministers, deal with the foreign kings and queens and their ambassadors, and keep the Dragon Officials and the Dragon King, my father, at bay. I will accept no other human on the throne in the meantime, but someone will have to rule.

Coran could act as king in her absence as the Heshen of past and other countries have done, but, again, I will accept no other human. As much as I like him my instincts to dominate, fight, and defend will cause us to clash with the likely end being that I kill or disfigure him. Besides, I highly doubt the young general would wish to rule for even a few short years. He has always been more the type to kill his enemys first and ask questions later, useful but not exactly the best method to be used when dealing with hostile court ministers.

Only one course of action is left to me then and it brings a grim smile to my lips. I must rule in her absence and when she comes of age I will retrieve her and then I will recognize her as the true ruler.

 

There are three classes of dragon: Healer, Warrior, and Royal. We are separated by temperament and power. The Healers tend to be the gentlest and weakest of our race. The Warriors have volatile tempers, but they are fiercely powerful. Royals can be gentle or violent as they choose, but either way they are the strongest. A Royal is further defined by the fine line that divides rage from the blood rage that runs as hot as it is cold through our veins. When that line is crossed, the boundary shattered, there is nothing to do but ride it out and hope that the damage and death toll aren't too great.

As Dragon Prince I am of the bloodline that carries these traits and as of now I am riding that very edge. I have to fight hard to keep that rage leashed. They don't know what she is, what she means to me.

Eight years. Eight. I have kept her safe for eight years and with a single careless gesture, a single word I have destroyed everything. I should never have trusted Coran.

Soren is gone. Fayra barely holds onto life by a thread. Tara, muncura, the woman is a mess. If I hadn't checked on them when I had…If I had just been even a few minutes earlier I could have caught that little whoring, bitch and kept Soren out of her hands.

I want to rage at them, want to rip their guts out, skin them alive, and feed them to the carrion. These selfish bastards know nothing of the young queen that they have lost because I have killed any that have found out too much about her. I have squashed any and all rumors of the missing Kiragashi heirs.

Tremors wrack my body as the ministers continue to watch me. They know the feral look in my eyes, know the tensing of my body cannot bode well for them. They are intelligent enough to keep their distance and not provoke me as I stare down at the prostrated Heshen.

Bastard.

The word whispers through my mind like a gentle caress. It hums in time with my blood and stirs the already hot flames of my rage. I'm a wing's span from killing him and he doesn't know, none of them know.

“Why?” I ask, my voice softer than silk and deadlier than a cobra's venom. I watch with little satisfaction as he shivers at the sound. “Look at me, Coran. I will not speak to a traitor with his face bowed to me. Face me as the male you are.” I can smell his fear as he understands the distinction I have made between man and male. For a dragon that distinction can be deadly, because another male is a challenger, usurper, and opponent.

To his credit he stands with no further outward display of his terror and his gaze locks with mine. None of this matters to me as I ask, “What was she worth to you? What did you sell her out for? What was your price?”

He shows no emotion as he answers, “My sister is alive. Kinnara had one of her allies take me to Janelle before seven converged on me and stripped me of my weapons and armor. It was either tell them where she was or watch my sister tortured to death. Once they had her they released me, but kept my sister as…collateral.”

My heart gives an odd double thump against my chest as his voice cracks and I can hear the fear, guilt, and anger he is harboring. Janelle had only been two at the time Coran's family had been slaughtered for his steadfast loyalty to me in the year before my first royal's death and if she is truly alive then she would be eleven now, in the hands of the Basalt daughter that betrayed her lover and used her family to escape us and now she has my queen.

My violence is tempered by pity, but not enough that I can guarantee that I won't kill him. I can understand why, but it does not change the fact that my royal is missing and in the hands of the last woman I would ever let near Soren.

Without consciously deciding to, I move. Everything becomes a blur of color. Faces lose their definition. My hearing becomes a dull roaring of blood rushing through my body, drowning out everything else. For a moment my vision blurs and takes on a red taint, then I can feel the air rushing past my clenched fingers.

Crack!!

My fist connects solidly with warm flesh with enough force to lift the person off their feet and send them flying through the air. I know the limits of my rage, I know just how far I can allow my body to go before I lose complete control. With a visible effort I yank myself back from the blood rage and force my temper to cool enough that I can see clearly. I blink and allow a grim smile to grace my lips at the sight of Coran sprawled across the throne room floor. The ministers have scattered to give him a wide berth and disperse farther from him as I close the distance between us.

As he makes to get up my boot comes down on his chest and I force him back to the rough stone. I stare dispassionately down into his eyes as I apply a little more pressure until I can feel the bone beginning to creak under my foot. He gasps and his hands fly involuntarily to clutch at my boot.

“I understand your reasons, but that does not excuse the actions. If anything happens to her I will give you an hour's head start for your loyalty these past years. After that, you and everyone in my way are fair game. I won't hold back,” I inform him softly and feel satisfaction as his eyes widen a fraction. “For the moment you are stripped of your Heshen title, but you will retain the duties that accompany the position in my absence. There will be no new laws passed. When I return with Soren she will decide your fate.” Looking down at the man I feel something stir in my breast. “If your sister yet lives I will rescue her, but you will never see her again.”

Relief flares in his eyes. “If you say she is safe then that is good enough for me.”

With that I stepped over him, taking care to avoid kicking him. I note with grim satisfaction that the ministers scramble out of my way, Morion especially. Then I reach the throne room window and brace myself against its sill, leaning out to breath in the cool night air. I close my eyes for a moment and allow the inner barriers I had constructed against my queen fall and open myself completely her.

Her pain, fear, and agony wash over me and distantly I can feel stone cracking beneath my fingertips. I don't stop to think before I launch myself out the window and plummet towards the courtyard below. Distantly I can hear their gasps before the wind howls through my ears and rips away everything else.

Blinding pain sears through my body as my transformation begins a hairsbreadth too late. Maybe I should have taken the longer way out, I belatedly admit as my half mutilated body slams full force into the stone work. For a moment I writhe, struggling between human and dragon form and then I turn my magic inward and force the transformation that should have come as easily as breathing to me.

I sit for a moment, my flanks heaving in an effort to regain my breath. My wings shudder as I lift them, the muscles protesting the years of inactivity. I shouldn't have gone so long between transformations. Five years is nothing for a full blood, but if a half-breed like myself should go too long in one form then the other form becomes too weak.

Still, I'm not going to let this stop me. I let go of the present and allow my mind to slip towards hers. Her pain is so fresh, so vibrant. I can feel the tearing lashes cutting into her soft flesh as she scrambles over the soiled straw away…away from the betrayer.

She senses me and tries to grab hold, but her grip is too unsure, too childlike still. Soren is too weak yet to fully touch my mind, but…my thoughts stagger to a halt as her's project themselves to me.

Help…Help me, please.

The raw fear is enough to make me lose it completely. Fire and ice flood my veins as the blood rage looses itself fully upon my body. Every discomfort with this form is driven away as I spread my wings to their full thirty feet and launch myself into the sky. I set a blistering pace as I follow the tug that exists only between Riagenkai and ruler. Anything in my way will die, nothing will stop me from snatching Soren from the crazy bitch before I make Kinnara beg for death.

The city falls quickly behind, the landscape and flocks of sheep blur together in a nasty mesh of colors. The world takes on a red taint. Dragon's hell how did I let this come around? No matter, I'll correct this mistake and then never let her out of my sight again.

 

Blood drips from my fingertips to splatter against the cold granite stone. Their bodies matter nothing to me as I survey the carnage that I have wrought, only her's matters to me. Three days it took me to find them and I was an hour too late. Her body had already cooled to the touch by the time I reached her. She had been tortured and raped and when that proved too little for entertainment they killed her, slowly until she begged for death.

There are no tears to shed as I stare at her. My blood rage is abated now that Kinnara and her men are dead. Soren's face is peaceful as though she were enjoying a peaceful sleep and could awake at any moment, but the cold truth of it is that she has surrendered to the embrace of death.

As I kneel beside her I ignore the bloody mess that I have made and gently tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. I can feel the grief and disappointment pulsing in me, but I have already given it an outlet so there is no need to express it again. She was so young to have been taken from me, too young. Seventeen years is barely enough time to live and feel the blush of youth and see the beauty of life.

Dragon's hell, I failed her and the price was her life.

I gently lift her into my arms and walk away from the inn where they had kept her. The corpses around us I treat with perfect indifference as I kick an arm or two out of our way. Soren will receive a proper burial and she will be recognized in those damn books. To hell with customs, she was my queen and I won't let her be forgotten.

A whimper in the far corner of the room draws my attention and I pause to look. Have I overlooked one of her attackers? I don't think I left anyone with the scent of Soren's blood untouched. The distant memory of Coran's betrayal and the reason for it dawns slowly in my mind and I realize that the scent I am catching is young, female, and close to Coran's.

Janelle.

The little girl responsible in an abstract sort of way for the death of my ruler and she's sitting in the corner, hidden beneath a stack of chairs and tables. She's just a frightened little child. Can I truly turn into a beast and leave her here for whatever vulture finds her? Will I become my father?

Some part of her feels the dead weight of her body and pushes at me to kill the girl as well, but another more rational part of my mind pushes back and wins. “Are you going to sit there and hide or will you come out?” I ask, keeping my voice light. “You do not smell of her blood so you are safe, Janelle.”

The chairs shift slightly and a black eye peers at me from their depth. I wait patiently for the little girl to come out and am rewarded when she finally digs herself out and stands uncertainly before me, keeping the room between us.

Janelle is so small. It is obvious that she hasn't been eating well. Her clothes hand off her small, boney figure and her black hair hangs limp around a sunken face. “Come,” I say and I hear her soft footsteps patter after me as I leave the carnage and the room behind.

The towns people file into the streets to watch me, their Riagenkai, as I move through their town bathed in blood and carrying the corpse of the girl that might have been their queen. There is no sound as they watch me. They know and they understand the loss that they have suffered. There will be no celebration for a long time to come, only mourning for the loss of a ruler.

I lose the thread of time and allow it to pass in a blur. The only thing that I am truly aware of is the weight of her body as I carry her and the moment I set her down in the town square. The towns people have followed me and cleared a path, spreading the word that I bear the body of their queen.

My fingers brush her cold cheek and I can feel the tears burning in my eyes. Too young. The grief overpowers me and I can feel the warmth of my tears as they flow down my cheeks. Soren could have been everything and I failed her.

I stand and extend my hand and allow the flames of my magic to wrap her in the last blanket. “Good night, sweet child, my queen,” I whisper as the wind touches us and takes with it the spirit of my will. There is no more fight left in me. Enough.

Tonight, I will return to the courts and end the miserable existence of those ministers and then I will die with her. Enough is enough. Too many years I have lived.

My eyes drift to Janelle and I ponder Coran's fate for a moment. I owe him much for his past loyalty. He will be spared, if only for the sake of his sister's care. Fayra and Tara will live, but everyone else within those walls will die.

 

Exhaustion settles over me like a second skin. The stars twinkle down at me as I lay in the courtyard. Their bodies lay around me and I care nothing for the death I have caused. My smile is fleeting as I recall how happy they were to see me. The damn bastards actually thought that Janelle was their queen. Too bad for them only Coran understood the significance. It wasn't until I ripped into Morion and his blood had splattered several of them that they finally understood that I didn't mean to let any of them live.

Muncura, I hate this place, but it doesn't matter now. Nothing will matter in a few minutes when my body fails and I breath my last.

Coran and Janelle are safe with Tara. What happened to Fayra after the Imagi healer saved her I have no idea. She'll live, I have no doubt of that.

My body is beginning to cool and I feel relief as death begins stilling my heart. Too long I have lived. I welcome the end with open arms. My eyes flutter shut and I sigh blissfully. Finally, finally it is over. I relax into death's embrace and allow sleep to settle over me.

My breathing is slowing now.

Footsteps.

Closer…closer…

A warm hand touches my cool skin and my eyes flutter open at the intrusion. I gasp. Her face looms over me, her red hair cascading down to brush against my face. A soft smile touches her lips and lights her silver eyes. “Riagenkai,” she says softly and I can feel warmth flooding through me from the bond that exists between us.

Forever. She'll be mine forever.