28. Xander
Chapter 28
Xander
Pachelbel’s Canon in D
I n the week that follows, I am blessedly free of Spawn. Wedding preparations continue with great success, and I only have to deal with the moping Boneweaver in the evenings when I let it out to shower. It’s quiet, maybe slightly reduced to ferality since the fright with the Lunaris wolves. Serves it right for attempting to free Raquel.
The twins have been asking daily for Spawn, Delilah going so far as to cry and stomp her feet at not being able to check on the chest wound. It’s the first time I’ve denied them something, and it feels like shit to not be the perfect, doting uncle. Sissy just stares at me with her arms crossed, and refuses to engage in conversation. I don’t push the matter, knowing that after my wedding, things will change for the better.
The afternoon of the wedding comes quickly, and I efficiently get ready in my room. Olly glances at me with worry as he fixes my bow tie. “Eyes down, butler,” I snarl.
He flinches before kneeling to give my shoes a final polish. I turn and check myself in the mirror.
I’ve never looked finer.
The most expensive tux money could buy, coupled with the most precious gold and jewels from our horde, made an outfit worthy of the heir to one of the most wealthy dragon families in the country. No one really knew who was the wealthiest. After all, we all kept our treasuries secret, allowing rumour and gossip to fuel the eternal debate.
The biggest issue had been what to do with Spawn during the ceremony. It couldn’t be left unattended with so many beasts in the estate, and I hardly wanted to see it while marrying my new fiancée.
A knock at the door brings the solution. Olly opens it and my father steps inside, looking regal in a tuxedo and blood red rose pinned to his lapel. He hands another to Olly, who fixes the flower to my own lapel.
“Hmm,” Father says, surveying Spawn where it sits in its cage. “Out you come, little Boneweaver.” He waves his hand and the cage door swings open.
It crawls out and gets to its feet, spine cracking and popping as it adjusts to being upright. I take the bangle off my wrist and hand it to my father. He smiles as he slips it on and flicks his wrist to let out the chain. It clicks into place.
“Let’s try a tiger,” he says, as if speaking to a sweet child. “Can you do that, pet?”
Spawn inhales as if annoyed before shifting. When it drops onto all fours, it is paws that hit the carpet.
“Amazing,” Father murmurs, reaching out to pet it on its big, furry head. It’s even bigger than Minnie, who’s a sizable tigress. “The unique orange and black pattern is similar to other tigers, but it’s the eyes that give her away.”
Blue. Always those fucking ethereal sapphires that glint like they know something you don’t. Like there are secrets Boneweavers know that other beasts can never hope to understand. Even now, silent and depressed, its eyes gleam with vicious intent.
“I’ve had her other forms in mind too,” Father says. “It’ll be a nice surprise for our guests.”
“Are the Hellfires here yet?” I ask, checking the backyard camera feed on my phone. “The guests have started to arrive.”
Father doesn’t take his eyes off Spawn as he speaks. “Just now. The bride is settled in her suite, making final preparations. She is resplendent. I’m glad we chose her instead of Nadine. The Chens are not happy they’ve been overlooked but they’ll get over it in time.”
I haven’t seen Francesca since the night I offered her the ring a week ago, and she was happy enough then even though I didn’t get on one knee. Drakos dragons never kneel for anyone.
A great fuss was made over wedding preparations, but Father had made a point to not get her everything she wanted. It is a Drakos wedding after all, and she is marrying into my household.
My collar suddenly irritates me as I head downstairs, nodding at the incoming guests. Mother stands at the entrance doors, greeting them all, her arm on a maid’s for stability. I frown at the sight of her. Beautiful in a gown of magenta, she’s thinner than a dragon of her age should be, more quiet than a lady of the Drakos household should be. I tug at my collar again, glancing around.
“Need a smoke, Xander?” comes a voice from behind me. It’s my Uncle Fabian, handsome in a tux and red rose. He is a forever-bachelor, taking only lovers but no actual mate as far as anyone knows. “There’s no shame in pre-wedding jitters. We can sneak away for a moment.” His gold irises gleam with mischief.
“No thank you, Uncle,” I say, clapping him on the arm. “I’d prefer to be sober for this. We’re about to start.”
He nods and goes to find his place at the aisle as my groomsman as the last guests wander into the back garden.
I tug at my collar yet again as my mother approaches me. “Take a seat, Mother,” I say. “You look tired.”
“Oh,” she beams weakly at me. “I am always tired, Xander. A side effect of old age, I’m afraid.”
“You are hardly old,” I say, stroking her cheek with the back of my index finger. “You’re still a spring hatchling.”
She takes my hand and kisses the back of it, looking up at me. “I want you to be happy, Xander. Are you sure this is really what you want?”
“Of course it is,” I say softly. “We’re all together now.”
Her smile turns sad. “ Is that the most important thing?”
I step away from her, that darkness in me rearing its head. “Take your seat, Mother.”
She turns away, nodding, a maid rushing forwards to assist her. I wait a beat, looking around the hallowed halls of my forefathers. I share their blood, and yet I’ve never felt more set apart from them. But doing my duty, marrying and having hatchlings would surely make them proud. They all did it and I am honoured to continue the tradition. Rubbing my temple, I stride towards the open doors of the back of the castle, and through to where the aisle is set up in the back garden.
It’s going to rain this evening, with clouds already gathering in the eastern sky. The guests are seated in near twenty rows of black and gold seats, casting a wary eye on the rich and influential people around them. I nod at the lesser guests, distant family, friends, and business partners. Near the front, I stop to shake hands with the human Prime Minister and some of his senators, as well as the regent of each major court: the avian queen, the feline king, the wolf queen and Mace Naga, sitting at the end of one row, looking smug. An impartial tiger stands at the front of the wedding as celebrant and I shake his hand.
It sours my mood further.
The last time I saw this particular tiger was at Aurelia’s farcical wedding to Halfeather. He’s the celebrant of choice amongst the elites of our kind. Mostly because he turns a blind eye to our…more unsavoury Old Laws.
I turn and survey the crowd. They all stare back at me curiously, especially the Hellfire family. They are small, as most dragon families are these days, but she has at least one aunt and uncle, and her cousins have two hatchlings between them.
An unfamiliar, heavy scraping sound from the entrance hall makes me frown. I recognise my father’s steps, but?—
Unbidden, a chill runs down my spine. The people closest to the door turn around and gape.
Because on the golden leash, my father drags a fully grown great white shark anima behind him.
Whispers and gasps break out amongst the crowd and the celebrant lets out a long-suffering sigh. Father has a smirk on his face, his chin held high as he drags Aurelia behind him, the heavy body of the shark pulling up the carpet behind her. Servants rush forward and straighten the carpet as he goes, so he doesn’t ruin the entire aisle.
Mother turns around to see what all the fuss is about, and her hand flies to her mouth as she audibly gasps.
Has he forgotten there are humans here? Shit. I exchange a look with Rebecca, our publicist, sitting in the second row, and her face is pale as a sheet as she stares at the display.
Father gets to the altar, where I give him a blank look.
“The fucking Prime Minister is here, Father,” I growl into his head.
“Watch your fucking tone,” he replies just the same. “They’ll all love it after what Scythe Kharkorous has done to the serpent court.”
I risk a glance at Mace, and sure enough, there is a fell sort of gleam in those sociopathic black eyes as he looks upon his daughter as she’s dragged up to me, gills uselessly expanding and contracting as she tries to gain breath.
“It’ll die without water. The ceremony will go for too long,” I murmur as Father comes to stand next to me. We both look down at her.
“Oh, she’ll be fine for a bit. She’s a Boneweaver, remember?”
A few in the crowd shift uncomfortably. I know this is a show of power for my father. Probably something he’s been fantasising about since she arrived.
But great white sharks suffocate without water. Even Boneweavers need oxygen to live.
“Father, I don’t think?—”
His eyes flash, and I shut my mouth, knowing I’ll pay for this later.
“Boneweaver,” Father says in a voice everyone can hear. “Shift into your human form.”
No doubt desperate for air and hungering for water, she has no choice but to obey. My ears pick up the crunch of her cartilage, the scrape of her skin, and when she crouches there, in human form, she wheezes, sucking in air so loudly that the entire room can hear the struggle. The skin of her side is red and bleeds from being dragged. Eyes watering, she looks accusingly up at me.
I look away, and with the knowledge that everyone is watching us, I keep a smooth, unemotional face.
“When the shark king hears about this,” Father says into my mind. “ He won’t know what to do with himself.”
There’s nothing I can say to that, so I remain silent until the pianist strikes up Wagner’s March and everyone gets to their feet. I would have preferred Pachelbel’s Cannon in D , but my father insisted on tradition.
My bride appears at the flowered archway, beautiful in a dragon’s wedding gown. It’s linen woven with gold, strong enough to take the weight of the diamonds and rubies that stud the bodice and full skirts. A gold and ruby diadem, loaned from the Drakos treasury, sits atop her head, and a veil of jewelled silk trails down her back in a long seven-foot train.
Francesca’s eyes widen when she steps up to the altar and sees Aurelia crouching naked by my father’s knee. Lord Hellfire raises his brows but says nothing as he hands his daughter to me. My bride’s eyes flick to mine, but all I do is take her hands like we’re supposed to.
My headache suddenly returns with a vengeance.
The celebrant begins the usual speech about love and tradition as the two of us stand there and I pretend to listen. My head pounds a murderous beat along to Spawn’s laboured breathing inside my skull. A bead of sweat runs down Francesca’s spine. My father shifts impatiently behind me. The entire room breathes. Lungs expanding, throats swallowing. The birds in the trees at the edge of the estate chirp a raucous call. I should have taken up Uncle Fabian’s offer of that smoke.
Spawn sniffs.
I want it all to fucking stop.
And then Francesa begins speaking her vows, dragging my attention to her powdered face. “Under the Wild Goddess, I bind myself in holy matrimony to you, Xander Flores Drakos. I vow to honour, serve, and obey you until my last day upon this earth.” She places the gold wedding band on my finger.
Does she mean it?
When it’s my turn, I say, “Under the Wild Goddess, I bind myself in holy matrimony to you, Francesca Nolene Dorothy Hellfire. I vow to love, honour, and cherish you until my last day upon this?—”
It’s right at that moment my dragon decides to awaken with an earth-trembling roar. His mighty jaws open wide, white glowing eyes terrible and raging.
“You have no authority over me!” he roars, low and guttural.
“I have the only authority!” I scream back.
He stares me down, smoke streaming from his nostrils in a dangerous volume, fogging up my brain. “You thought there were no consequences for what you did?” he snarls, making my very skull rattle. “You thought you could violate the most ancient laws of our kind?” He prowls closer to me, putting his massive face in mine, but I clench my jaw and stand my ground. “The only thing more cruel than a curse from the Wild Goddess is a curse writ by a dragon.”
“You will obey me,” I snarl. “I am your master.”
He ignores me completely, eyes flashing red to black, before pressing his mighty forehead against mine. “You will know all the times we have loved her, and may they torment you for the rest of your cursed, miserable days.”
A broken scream fills the air, and it takes me a moment to realise it’s mine.