Tortured: An Epic Dragons and Immortals Romantic Fantasy (Fallen Emrys Chronicles Book 3)

Chapter 5

Seren finds me within the hour. Our dragon stone connection leads her right to me.

She bows before me, spreading her wings wide. I’m timid as I approach the pearlescent-colored dragon.

I saw her many months ago when Niawen introduced my family to her. I was never privileged enough to ride on her as my brother, Kelyn, and the fur trader Owein had.

I feel a bitter satisfaction. Because of my situation and my need to travel to Gorlassar, I’ll finally have my first dragon flight.

“Are you ready for this?” Seren asks.

I rub my hands over her shoulder. “How hard could it be?” I think of poor Kelyn and his fear of heights. He managed to fly with Niawen on Seren, but it wasn’t without much harassment from me. I reach toward the saddle above her shoulders. “Do you ever take this thing off?”

“I only just put it on. With Aneirin’s help.”

Pretending to examine her saddle straps, I pause briefly. I might meet this Aneirin, Niawen’s first love, the reason she left the dragon realm in the first place.

“Ah, he knows I’m coming,” I say, trying to sound indifferent. What will he say to me? Will he blame me for Niawen’s current predicament? What’s more, how can I face the immortal Niawen held such high esteem for? She wasn’t able to let go of him to allow herself to love me.

I blamed her indifference for me on my mortality.

But when she was exiled from the immortal world, she left me and found the worst and only immortal on the planet to love, Lord Caedryn.

That really makes a guy feel inferior.

Seren sniffs. “Kenrik, you can’t hide your feelings from me unless you make a conscious effort. You and Aneirin are as different as turtles and birds. You can’t compare yourself to him, and you have no reason to feel inferior.”

I cock my head, considering. “She was afraid of being alone. That’s why she went to Caedryn. Kelyn’s near-death had shaken her. She couldn’t bear the thought of living forever while watching a mortal husband die.”

Kelyn was the lucky one to propose to her. Niawen was not oblivious to his affections for her.

Nor mine.

I might even say we fought for her love.

“Yes. Niawen has always had a fear of being alone.” Smoke rises from Seren’s mouth, coming from her internal flame.

Time to meet Niawen’s past,I say to myself.

“Hey.” Seren noses me. “Aneirin never loved her as you do. He was her closest friend. Practically her sister.”

“They’ve known each other for centuries. A guy feels a bit inferior when he’s only known Niawen for a few months.”

And when he’s not an immortal god.

“Are you ready to do this?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I grip the edge of the saddle and stand on Seren’s forearm. She lifts me, and I slide my leg over the saddle and settle into place.

“Hold on.” Seren bounces once before spreading her broad wings. She rears up, and I grab her saddle. As she launches into the sky, my breath escapes me. I fold my body flat to hers during the ascent, praying I stay on, as the wind coils around my body and rips through my hair.

Niawen pulled light around her, to warm her body and to cement herself in the saddle,Seren says.

How do I do that?

Brainpower. Imagine your light warming you.

Will it work the same way? I ask.Niawen established that my light was fused to my physical make-up, not balled in my spiritual heart-center, waiting to be harnessed as hers was.

Try it. It couldn’t hurt to experiment and learn what your abilities are.

I don’t have to exert mental power to warm my body. I am already warm enough. My body regulates its temperature without my thought. As for cementing myself into the saddle so I won’t fall . . . my reflexes react whenever my body shifts one way or the other. My muscles contract and hold me steady without so much as a thought, as if my body knows what to do to ensure survival.

When Seren’s wings slow into a steady flap and her flight path levels off, I feel brave enough to open my eyes. We are soaring near some low clouds.

The world is minuscule below, a patchwork of trees and fields, snaking with blue lines of rivers. With daring, I sit upright and lift my arms into the sky. I let loose with a long whoop.

Seren! Why didn’t I do this with Niawen? It’s beautiful. Excitement pummels my chest, and I scream into the air once again. Yes!

Seren laughs, and smoke from her snout blows back and billows into my face. I laugh too. I feel like a kid again. For the few hours that we fly toward the portal between worlds, I let go of everything. I only have this small time to pretend my troubles don’t exist, and I am going to enjoy it.

Before long, the Eirwen Mountain range rapidly grows to span my sight, nothing but snow-covered, gray peaks blasting toward the heavens.

I’m sorry you never had the chance to fly on me before, Seren says.

I smirk. You’re forgiven.

I’ll tell you a secret.

What’s that?

You’re one of my favorite humans, she says.

My mouth curls into a smile, and I squeeze Seren’s neck in a crushing hug.

After a few minutes of silence, I begin mentally preparing myself for whatever will meet me in Gorlassar.

Am I going to find resistance at the portal?

The portal into Gorlassar is a rift between worlds—the mortal world Bryn and the immortal world Emira. Gorlassar is just one of the valleys where the dragons and their guardians, the emrys, dwell.

Aneirin knows you’re coming, Seren says. He’ll be waiting inside the portal. Ieuan is guarding the outside. He traded shifts with another guard. We didn’t tell any others that you were coming.

So it should be easy?

Not necessarily.

What’s that supposed to mean? I ask.

If you can enter Gorlassar, your presence will be felt immediately.

So I might be forced out.

Or you might be taken, Seren says.

Taken?

Prisoner.

Hmmm, prisoner. I can cope with being a prisoner.

Didn’t I just spend weeks as one?

After flying for what feels like an eternity over an endless expanse of white, Seren nears a mountain peak. From what I can surmise, it’s the highest peak of the cluster that forms this range.

That’s Eirwen Mountain, Seren says.

I spot a man on a snowy ledge. Is that Ieuan? His hair is white and hangs long behind him. His clothes are green though, so he’s like a spring flower poking out of the snow.

Yes. We’re here. Seren lands right in front of Ieuan, who stands between two hulking boulders twenty feet apart and nearly as tall.

I slide to the ground and drop into a crouch. My feet immediately start to melt the snow around me. Seren curls her wings to her back and relaxes.

Ieuan steps forward as I stand.Contrary to what his white hair might indicate, he’s young, about my age, early twenties. He’s probably older. Emrys are ageless once they hit maturity. Will I have this attribute with Niawen’s light inside me? Only time will tell. A turquoise dragon stone hangs around his neck.

So he is a dragon rider—a guardian.

“Prince Kenrik,” Ieuan says. “Seren has told me about your predicament. I help only because I’m ashamed of meeting Niawen on this ledge and forbidding her entrance. It is not something I can ever undo.”

The fateful day that Niawen was exiled. She told me briefly of it before we separated.

I take Ieuan’s outstretched arm and shake it. “Niawen would understand. She would bear no malice.”

“That is my hope.” He pauses while taking me in.

Is he analyzing my light? How does my light appear to him? Niawen once told me how emrys could discern light, how their internal lights look like stars in the sky when they use their inner sight to gaze over a vast distance. And when looking at a person individually, an emrys can see a person’s light as an orb in their chest, with its own distinct color.

But my light has become something else entirely.

I have no orb.

Ieuan finishes his assessment of me but doesn’t comment. “When you pass through the portal, there will be no time to marvel. You must move swiftly to the High Emrys’s palace.”

I look at Seren. “Does she know I’m coming?”

“Supposedly, she does not,” Seren says. “But she is gifted with clairvoyance.”

Ieuan smiles. “So most likely she does.”

“So if she doesn’t want me in Gorlassar,” I say, “she would have probably intervened already.”

“Not necessarily,” Ieuan says. “The High Emrys cannot interfere with events. She must allow them to unfold.”

I squint at Seren.

“She cannot interfere with agency,” she says. “It’s an eternal law. She’ll allow you to act as you see fit.”

“Well, that’s somewhat convenient.” I suppose.

Ieuan gestures to the space between the boulders. “Gorlassar awaits. Aneirin is stationed on the other side to escort you.”

I touch Seren, hoping her solid shoulders and warm scales will ground me. I am about to do what no human has ever done. Seren nudges her head forward, telling me to stop hesitating.

“All right.” I wave her away.

I take a step. Ieuan sticks his hand into the space, and it disappears.

Okay. So that is the way. It is open for him.

He pulls his hand out.

I swallow, lift my arms, and step forward. I don’t meet a solid wall. An undulating ripple of air caresses my arms up to my elbows. When I glance at my hands, they are gone.

I smile and shove myself into the void between worlds.

After a brief, gray nothingness, I emerge on the other side.

Sunshine and green grass greet me, along with a garnet-colored dragon, a turquoise one, and another emrys, who I presume is Aneirin. Seren materializes after me and nuzzles her snout against the garnet dragon’s.

I quickly register that he is her mate, Cephias.

Aneirin boldly steps forward. I shouldn’t be caught off guard by his long, silver-blond hair hanging to his waist; he wears it much the same way Ieuan does, but Aneirin is dressed in silver from head to toe, matching his hair—

Except for the startlingly red dragon stone hanging below his throat.

The stone gleams like a fresh pool of blood, as if someone had dug his dagger around in Aneirin’s pale flesh before yanking it out. The contrast against his skin and attire unsettle me.

I wear nothing but borrowed rags. Clothes that have seen better days before weeks of travel.

I look nothing like a prince.

I square my shoulders and straighten my back when I realize Aneirin is two inches taller than I am. I picture him with his nose at Niawen’s eye level. How many times has she gazed up at him and longed to kiss him?

I am jealous. Absolutely. This suave, graceful fellow with willowy limbs caught Niawen’s fancy and I had not?

Aneirin arches a brow at me. He doesn’t make a move to extend his hand as Ieuan did. “Everything’s transparent here. Everyone will know all of your feelings if you don’t guard them.”

My face burns. I stare into his green eyes with contempt. Aneirin doesn’t blink or avert his gaze.

I narrow my expression. “What are you sensing now, emrys?”

Aneirin snickers. “Easy, princeling. Many others care for Niawen. You have to take that into account before you can believe you have a claim to her soul.”

“You have no idea what we’ve been through.”

Aneirin huffs. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with. Just because you’ve changed and carry her light, doesn’t mean you know anything about being an emrys.”

My stomach tightens. “That’s why I’m here. I don’t claim to know anything.”

Ieuan emerges from the rift. “You’re wasting time. Stop this pissing contest. I’d hate for Caledu to show up while you’re cutting into each other.”

Her father. The man who exiled Niawen.

Aneirin nods. He turns to the garnet-colored dragon and climbs into the saddle. “Right this way.” He draws out his words and adds a mock bow. “Your Highness.”

I turn abruptly, and Seren gives me a leg up. He’s just messing with you. He respects you.

Funny way of showing it, I say.

He will never forgive himself for everything that happened with Niawen. How she left because of him, how he couldn’t get her back into Gorlassar by meeting with the council. Niawen wouldn’t have taken his charity anyway.

Anyone who knows Niawen knows how stubborn she is.

Trust me, Aneirin knows, Seren says.

“Good luck,” Ieuan says as he pats the turquoise dragon. “I have to stay until shift change. Perhaps I will be here again when you leave.”

Seren takes off after Aneirin and Cephias. We fly over a green valley with a river winding down the center. The land is lush and reminds me of Talfryn, my highland home, at the height of summer.

Dread fills me when I see four other dragons and their riders in the distance, flying toward us from a pristine white city. Looks as though I have a welcoming committee.

It couldn’t have been avoided, Seren says.

It’s not as if they will shoot us out of the sky, right?

They might apprehend you when we land.

Should I fight them? I ask.

I’d go peacefully.

The dragons catch up to us. A large dandelion-colored dragon and a bronze dragon circle to the front while two slate-colored dragons head up the rear.

An escort.

Seren flies beside Cephias, giving me a clear view of Aneirin. His face is hard.

This doesn’t look good, I say.

That’s Caledu on the bronze dragon,Seren says. He’s an enforcer of the laws here.Aneirin will take care of him.

We descend over the city into its center, a vast square surrounded by four stately buildings. People on the ground clear the area for the six dragons to land. I cling to Seren with a prayer in my heart.

I can do this. Who cares if I’m just a lowly mortal?

Apparently everyone in the square.

People stop moving about and turn to stare. Amazingly, all the emrys are magnificent. All regally dressed. All perfectly flawless in physique. Light-colored hair, glowing shades of green eyes. All of them powerful light wielders.

Seren folds her wings, but she remains on all fours. Her front haunches are taut under my legs dangling from the saddle. She isn’t letting her guard down, but I seriously doubt that these emrys will attack a dragon just because I ride her. The emrys are, after all, dragon guardians who vowed to protect the dragon species at all costs.

The four men who joined us dismount. Aneirin slides from his saddle and approaches the man who came from the bronze dragon. “Caledu, tell your men to back off.”

“Aneirin.” Caledu narrows his eyes at me. His nose is quite pointed, giving his face a severe look that ages him despite his obvious youthfulness. “That abomination must be apprehended. How could you allow such a being into our world?”

What does Caledu see in me that makes him classify me as an abomination? I am full of light. Is it the way the light is embedded throughout my body?

Or is it because I spent the past few weeks killing across the country? Have those assassins I killed left a mark on me just as Niawen once had a mark on her for killing men who were raiding one of my father’s villages?

A similar mark that Caledu declared had defiled his daughter—

That Niawen was exiled for.

Aneirin doesn’t back down. “He’s here to see the High Emrys. She will decide his fate.”

Since when did this become about my fate? It sounds as if I’m primed for an execution.

That’s not what Aneirin means, Seren says.

I straighten in the saddle, debating whether I should dismount, as the three other men with Caledu draw around Seren and me.

Their palms are up and outstretched, facing me. They carry no weapon because their weapon—their light—is within them.

They only have to unleash it on me.

My senses heighten a thousandfold. My hands throb. Adrenaline pumps through my system.

If they want a fight, I will give it to them.

Aneirin and Caledu whip around to face me. Their ability to discern has alerted them of my growing unease. Caledu’s eyes flash with daring. He would love a fight.

Aneirin’s glimmer with warning as he speaks. “Prince Kenrik, there’s no need for your trepidation. Lord Caledu is going to gladly escort us to the High Emrys, won’t you?”

The hundreds of eyes on us are my only saving grace. Caledu screws up his angled features and purses his lips before answering. “Yes, Your Majesty. Welcome to Mared, our majestic capital. Our beloved leader would love to make your acquaintance.”