Aaric
The last three times a prince of Navarre walked these woods, he didn’t come out alive.
Now that the sky is turning colors with the approaching sunset, I’m starting to wonder if I’ll not only break that trend but become the first cadet of royal blood to be forced to repeat as an unbonded.
Since I’m already the first cadet of royal blood to enter the quadrant under a fake name to hide his location from his father, I’m content with breaking precedent.
Fine. If my dragon isn’t ready to bond me this year, I’ll wait until next.
Playing the long game requires patience.
Steam billows from my left, and my heart leaps as I whip my head in that direction, only to sigh with disappointment when I spot a Green Daggertail stalking toward me.
“No.” I shake my head once, locking eyes with the glaring dragon, and then continue on my way.
I’ve abandoned everything—my title, my family, my very name—to be here. What’s another year of my life? It’s certainly a better option than death.
We were given no answers, no explanation when my brother died here three years ago. Dragons don’t answer to the inquiries of kings. One day Alic was a first-year cadet, and the next his belongings were hauled out of his bedroom in Calldyr to be burned for Malek.
I’m under no illusions about the kind of person Alic grew into.
In a family of three brothers, he was the cruelest, the most given to violent tantrums, the one who taught me to mask every weakness because if I didn’t, he’d exploit it.
He didn’t start that way, but I barely recognized him the last few years of his life and choose to mourn the version of him I remember from childhood.
Though I’m not sure that version of him could have survived this place, either.
But I will.
Others are in here hoping for acceptance or praying to gods who never bother to answer.
I’m hunting.
In the five hours I’ve spent scouring these woods, I’ve come across reds, oranges, browns, and greens, none of which spoke to me, obviously. But I’m not looking for them anyway.
Not when Molvic is here.
“Come on out and play,” I whisper into the wind as I pass another ancient redwood.
The moment Kaori said the Blue Clubtail had entered the valley, an irrefutable ache started to pang in my chest. That same ache has only grown more painful the closer I get to the southern edge of the forest, and when I approach a small clearing, it outright screams.
The field is empty when I walk into the knee-high grass, but I feel him.
“I know you’re here.” My gaze scans the tree line, and the ache behind my ribs evaporates when I find two golden eyes staring back, nearly hidden in the trees. “Molvic.”
He surges into the clearing, sun glistening on his sapphire-blue scales, baring his teeth with a low growl. My pulse jolts, but I steady it with a breath and sheer force of will. Among blues, he’s second in ferocity only to Sgaeyl, which means showing any fear is going to get me cooked.
“You’re mine.” I take a measured step toward him.
He roars, flattening the grass between us and vibrating every bone in my body.
Godsdamn. I speak nine languages, about four of them fluently, and though none of them is dragon, the vehemence of his denial is easily translated.
“Fine, you can say I’m yours if that makes you feel better.” It takes every ounce of concentration I have to keep my muscles from locking as I walk forward. He’ll set me on fire or he’ll bond me, but one way or another, he’s about to change my life.
His tongue curls, and the back of his throat turns orange.
Well. Fuck.
I sprint toward the right, then dive over a decayed log and roll as heat envelops my spine. When I look back, the grass is smoking where I stood. I dust off my hands, smearing a bloody scrape along my palm. That was a little closer than I would have liked.
His head swings toward me, and his glare becomes downright hostile.
“You. Are. Mine.” I gain my feet and take a symbolic step in his direction, so he knows that I intend to see this through. “You may kill me in this field, but it will not change that fact.”
“I was drawn to the strength of your bloodline once before and found myself sorely disappointed,” he says, his voice low and coarse.
Alic. It has to be. My ribs tighten.
“I am not my brother.” I inch forward.
“That is why I still allow you to breathe, Camlaen Aaric Baran.” He darts his head forward and bathes me in steam.
“It’s Aaric,” I correct him. “Did you kill him?” Another step puts us barely ten feet apart.
“No.” He growls again but keeps his teeth closed.
My fingers start to curl, but I hold back from asking if he knows who did, if he saw my brother in the final hours before his demise. We will have a lifetime for those conversations, if I can just live through the next few minutes.
“I am not Alic. I am not Halden. I am not my father.” My voice rises with conviction.
“I know who you are. Do you think you’re so different just because your mother saw to your tutelage?” he snarls.
“Yes.” I move forward. “I was neither heir nor spare, and therefore overlooked by my father for what turned out to be my own benefit. My mother taught me that power, when given without restriction, leads to a corrosion of morals from which there is no recovery. That will not be my fate. I intend to earn my power. I will earn you.”
His head rises a few feet, but not enough to bare his throat.
“Do you know war rages beyond the wards?”
Another growl rumbles in his throat. “I do.”
I nod. “You’ve seen every memory I have, so you know how I feel about it.
You know my thoughts even now.” I hold out my arms, palms skyward.
“I am the one you have waited for, searched for all these years. I am the reason you have wandered the Threshing Valley unbonded. My brother may have left you disillusioned with my bloodline, but I will not.”
He bares his teeth. “And you think you know the future?”
“I know mine.” I nod with certainty. “I will fight in that war, perhaps even die. But I will not stand idly by as my family watches the destruction from a gilded tower, false stewards to a population they’ve intentionally kept ignorant.”
“And where will that leave your monarchy?” He prowls forward and tilts his head down, holding my gaze.
I focus on one of his eyes, noting my reflection in the golden orb.
Gone are the royal robes, the fine silks and tunics.
I stand before Molvic in rider black with no title or rank besides the year mark on my collar.
“I don’t give a fuck.” My heart starts to pound.
No matter my thoughts, I’ve never spoken them aloud, never given them a voice.
I straighten my back. “My mother and all her good intentions are dead. If you bond me, I will fly for the name on my uniform, not the one I was given at birth. I will fly for your kind, but not the Empyrean that has enabled this travesty. Kill me now for sedition or bond me. Your choice. Mine is already made.”
He growls again, and I wonder if I’ve gone too far, but there can be only honesty between us. He must know I will follow my thoughts, my plans, through to execution.
Even if it leads to my own.
“And I will promise you, I will die before I stand on the side of complicity.” I take a steadying breath. “You must know: I intend to tear this kingdom apart.”
His eye flares. “I accept your terms, Aaric Graycastle.”
No one in my family even knows I’m missing yet.
But I’m coming for them all.