Chapter 37
THANE
T he streets of Pearl Avenue were filled with extravagantly dressed dragon shifters and the scent of the many florals growing alongside the establishments.
It was well known for wealth and prestige, and it appeared that hadn’t changed in the two thousand years since he’d been here.
Many of the ladies had parasols to shield the hot sun beaming down.
It was much warmer than Palenor at the moment.
The dragon from the Elgotta guild led the way down the street, pointing out various shops. “Down about a half mile from here is the Drakonan Treasury and not far from that is the main Drakonan estate with the famous opera house that caught fire months back. It’s still under repair.”
Thane shielded his eyes to peer down the street. The golden domed peaks of the treasury could be seen from here.
“How did it catch fire?” Piper asked. “I mean, you’re dragons, I thought you’d have that sort of thing under control.”
“It’s not public knowledge but rumor has it, it was the same couple who killed the young lad Caliban Drakonan.”
A slow trickle of dread worked its way through Thane. He’d forgotten Hel killed a Drakonan.
“Who has the balls to kill a Drakonan?” Ronan asked.
“They haven’t been caught yet. I hear it was a couple who befriended the family looking to get a shop on Pearl Avenue.
No one knows the motivation behind the murder.
” He pointed across the pearl brick street.
A white carriage adorned in gold pulled by hippogriffs tottered by.
Piper, Leif, and Fennan stared at the half horse-half bird in awe.
“What is that?” Fennan balked. “And can I have one?”
Leif nodded vigorously. “Can it fly?”
“Yes, a hippogriff flies,” Thane said with a grin. “But no, we won’t be getting one today.”
“Come on, sire.” Fennan’s face lit up with excitement. “We need them in Palenor. Sure, we have horses, but a horse doesn’t fly.”
“We’re not staying long enough for that, but after the war we’ll buy some to bring home.”
Grinning, Leif and Fennan nudged each other.
The Elgotta continued with his tour, “That there is Presco’s Potions, a favorite of the ladies of our city. He’s the reason you see so many vibrant hair colors.”
Katana leaned closer to Thane and whispered, “Presco, as in our Presco ?”
“He did mention owning a shop in Ryvengaard,” he answered.
“Let’s go in.” Queen Nyrovia was already starting across the street.
Thane pressed his lips together. If one person recognized him, it was only a matter of time before someone else did and that someone could be hostile.
War may have been the god the dragons worshiped but time changed things.
He was the reason the council attacked Ryvengaard, and many dragons died, and then he disappeared.
“It’s not a good idea. We should go back?—”
“Just for a few minutes? It will be fun. What could go wrong in a potion shop?” Katana’s smile was hard to refuse. And he had promised to show her other realms. If only they weren’t pressed for time, but he had a feeling they needed to get back to Adalon. Palenor needed its king.
“Ten minutes and then we’re leaving. I’ve held my end of the bargain.”
The doorbell chimed as the others filed in, but Thane stopped just outside and stared at the WANTED poster on the wall to the right of the entry. It was Hel and Valeen.
Mr. & Mrs. Black also known as Zar and Layala. Suspects in the murder of Caliban Drakonan. Any information leading to the capture of Mr. & Mrs. Black will be rewarded by the Drakonan Family handsomely.
“Maker above, Hel…” Thane groaned.
“That looks an awful lot like you,” a voice came from his left. Thane turned to find a male in a black uniform trimmed in green. He was nearing seven foot tall and had a thick brown braided beard that reached his chest with matching bushy eyebrows.
“What does?”
The guard pointed at the sketch of Hel.
“Oh.” Thane cleared his throat and silently cursed Hel and their creator for making them look alike. “That’s not me.”
“I’d say that too if I were a wanted criminal connected to the murder of a Drakonan.”
“If I were this Mr. Black, why would I still be in town? I’m sure he’s long gone.”
“Maybe you thought growing out your hair with one of Presco’s potions would change you enough to go unnoticed.” Another guard stepped up beside him, this one with his weapon drawn. “Lowlifes always return to the scene of the crime.”
“I’m not Mr. Black, I assure you.”
“We’ll let the Drakonans decide that. If you come without a fuss, and we do have the wrong elf—who happens to look like Mr. Black and definitely has the blood of the gods, just as he did—then you’ll go and carry on about your life.”
“But if you want to make a fuss,” the other said, pointing the tip of his sword at Thane’s throat. “We’ll just bring your body, and they can decide if we got the wrong person.”
Katana stepped back out the door, eyes flicking between Thane and the two guards. “What is going on?”
“Then maybe we’ll get to have some fun with that beautiful thing.” The guards stared at Katana, mesmerized.
Heat flooded Thane’s body, and his magic flared in his veins, furious and ready to be unleashed. “You’re making a mistake.”
Katana lifted her chin. “Why do you have your sword pointed at him? Leave him alone. He has not done anything wrong.”
“Give me a couple hours with her and we might just let you go.” The guard’s disgusting smile sent a shock of fury through Thane.
The other guard twisted Katana around, then gripped her arms from behind. She squealed and tried to jerk away from him. “Cuff him. I’ll bring the girl. The Drakonans can throw her in as part of the reward. Never seen a prettier thing in my life.”
“Get your hands off her,” Thane growled. His blood seemed to boil.
“You best just shut your mouth and turn around, elf.”
“You have three seconds to let her go.”
Two more guards came up, claws out. “What’s going on here?”
“One,” Thane said.
“This idiot wants to fight,” the guard replied. “We think he’s the one who killed Caliban.”
“Two.”
“Thane,” Katana pleaded. “We can talk to them and clear up this misunderstanding. You do not have to do this. Please.”
Thane hit the sword up, grabbed the dragon by the wrist and twisted the blade out of his hand then shoved it through the base of his throat.
In three quick movements, he jerked it out, slashed another across the throat and cut down the third, then pointed the bloody sword at the male still holding Katana.
His eyes had gone wide, and his body was now covered in navy dragon scales.
But it was her face, those big doe eyes that scared him. She finally saw him for what he truly was. “I told you to get your hands off her. You want to die next, dragon?”
The doorbell chimed again, and this time Ronan and Piper came out with Fennan right behind. “Woah.” Ronan’s bright eyes swept over the dead bodies. “I saw him rip out a dragon’s heart once. Shoved his hand right through the fool’s chest. I’d let her go.”
The guard’s gaze shifted between Thane and his companions and finally released Katana. She wrapped her arms around herself, rushing toward Thane.
“You won’t get away with this,” the dragon guard said.
“Yeah,” Thane pulled Katana behind him. “I will. Send a message to the Drakonans for me. Tell them the god of war was here, and the last thing they want to do is start a fight with my cousin, Mr. Black, also known as the god of magic. My condolences for Caliban but it isn’t worth it. The realm gates are open once again.”
“The god—the god of war?” The dragon stared at him for another beat, then turned and ran.
People all around stopped and stared at the blood running into the streets.
Watched as Thane threw down the sword and it clattered to the ground next to the bodies.
Droplets of crimson had smattered across Katana’s cheek.
She reached up and swiped at her face only smearing the blood across her golden tan skin.
When she looked at her palm she began to tremble.
With the horror in her eyes, he knew she was drifting somewhere else in her mind.
To the dark place he would have to pull her out of.
He turned on Ronan and shoved him into the wall with a snarl. “We’re leaving. Now!”
Back in his guest room at Ronan’s, Thane dipped his hands into a water basin and watched the clear liquid turn pink from dried blood.
He scrubbed at his wrists and arms to clean off his crimes.
Once all trace of blood was gone from his skin he tossed his stained shirt onto the floor.
He didn’t feel bad about killing them. The only thing that haunted him now was that he was the reason for the horrified look on Katana’s face, and that devastated him.
She wanted to see the good in him and now she knew the truth.
But they’d touched her, threatened her, and that was all it took for him to justify their deaths.
And there was no time to be detained and questioned for Maker knows how long.
The Drakonans on Ryvengaard could have imprisoned him along with everyone else and then demanded proof he was who he claimed to be.
Once they believed him, they’d want to know where Hel and Valeen were.
Either way, he wasn’t going to get out of there quickly unless he did what he did.
He was done proving himself to dragons, and if the king and queen still refused this alliance, he’d kill them along with the crown prince and make Ronan their ruler. The time for diplomacy was over. Maybe Hel was right. Sometimes it took rolling heads to get somewhere.
He dried his hands off on a towel and his bare feet quietly slapped on the cool stone floor of his room. An envelope sat on the dresser with a red wax seal of a serpent wrapped around a lily. Thane tossed the towel beside it and tore it open.
Hello cousin,