Prologue – King Locryn’s Celebration Day #3
Daire nudged Ywain, sending a silent “Behave!” with narrowed eyes. To Halvard, Daire said, “Father is a young dragon still. Elouan won’t have to worry about leading the court anytime soon. He’s got plenty of time to find a consort.”
Isla leaned over Halvard, almost lying down, unperturbed at placing her ample bosom in the man’s lap.
“I hear Prince Elouan and Teron are too close for someone to squeeze between them.” Her mischievous grin said she wouldn’t mind squeezing between those two herself.
She preferred multiple lovers in her bed as opposed to one, saying a single lover might mistake mere fun for more, becoming clingy.
Isla shivered dramatically as she spoke the words.
No telling what the jiggling motion did for poor Halvard’s groin.
She fought as wholeheartedly as she loved.
“There’s nothing between them.” If so, Daire would know. No interesting gossip got past Ywain, and what he heard, he shared. Loudly. Repeatedly. Boastfully. “If anything, Teron’s like another brother to Elouan. And besides, they’re both alphas—”
“Don’t I know it!” Isla leered. “Goddess, I love alphas. So much…stamina.”
Maybe best to monitor Isla’s alcohol consumption tonight before she did something she’d spend weeks apologizing for—if she ever apologized.
While he’d been told potent drinks didn’t affect dragons as much as humans, one could still get rip-roaring drunk if they put their minds to the task. “Isla? Remember the midwinter bonfire?”
“Vaguely,” she replied. “That took place in midwinter, right?’
“How about last solstice?”
She winced. “Hey! It wasn’t my fault the ale was particularly good. Or that those two alphas were so beddable.”
“Isla. Those were emissaries. They were here to negotiate with my father, but he couldn’t find them for three days. Three days, Isla!”
“Oh yeah.” Isla didn’t even blush. She retreated from Halvard’s lap. Daire trained his eyes in another direction so as not to embarrass Halvard for the erection he now sported.
Isla continued, waving her hand in the air to punctuate her argument. “Everyone has one friend they’re always getting out of trouble. I volunteered. The way I see it, I’m doing the rest of you a service.” She gave a mock bow.
“Not when we have to see you with two naked alphas passed out in my bedding,” Ywain groused. “I had plans for my bedding, too.”
Daire dragged the conversation out of the downward spiral before they reached the part where Isla started paying suggestive compliments to Daire’s father. “We were speaking of Teron, I believe, and his unsuitability for Elouan.”
Isla leaned back over Halvard, practically lying across his lap this time, her shapely butt nearly in his face. “Yeah. Two alphas don’t do well together. Too possessive. I should know. Lots of growling.” She laughed.
Halvard said nothing, merely took one of Isla’s shoulders in each large hand, forcefully pushing her back into her own seat with a low growl of his own.
“Point taken!” she said. “So, back to the ever swoon-worthy Teron. Brother of Elouan, not a mate. Got it.”
Even a hint of anything between Elouan and Teron would devastate Anrai. He definitely didn’t view Teron as a brother. Daire saw Teron more as a cousin. An annoying one, sometimes, always taking Elouan’s side in any argument, even when he knew Elouan was wrong. Blind loyalty.
Let his brothers be the target of mate-minded dragons. Daire saw no need for a mate at this time in his life and might never need one. Betas normally dedicated themselves to service. And loving as hard as they fought.
However, if the Goddess dropped one into his lap, how could he refuse? Male, beta, blond hair, blue eyes. No, wait! Were his eyes the color of spring violets? Oh, hell yeah, Daire would accept.
Until then, there were so many betas in court to enjoy.
Ywain gave a secretive smile, an eyebrow cocked at Daire.
Oh? An offer of a night of fun? No flirting needed beforehand?
Count Daire in. They’d shared enough nights to know what each other liked, without the awkwardness of the morning after.
A hearty wave and, “See ya!” worked for them both.
Maybe an ass slap if they weren’t hungover.
And Ywain was blond.
Elouan’s smooth baritone from down in the bowl broke through Daire’s less than family-friendly thoughts. “Happy Anniversary, Father. It's hard to believe you’ve ruled the court for so long.”
Father’s dark hair remained free of gray strands, his eyes clear and oh so intelligent. He’d easily pass for a human of forty, even with his seventy summers. At least, a human who lived in the lowlands of the dragon realm, the only kind Daire had ever seen.
The royal crown gifted by the Goddess of Fire adorned Father’s head, the enormous central ruby catching every bit of light.
Father, too, wore unaccustomed finery rather than his usual simple clothing. He didn’t need adornment to stand out. His mere presence proclaimed him the court’s alpha leader, but tonight he also dressed the part.
The smile left Father’s face. “I only wish your mother could be here, Elouan.”
Him and Daire both!
“She would be proud.” Elouan embraced Father.
Mother had been gone seven long summers.
Father hadn’t chosen a new mate, and likely never would.
Maybe one day Daire would find a bond like theirs.
Then again, Father nearly died at Mother’s passing.
Maybe best to live a solitary life. While the High Reaches court enjoyed relative peace, beta dragons usually lost their lives in battle anyway, or by doing something ill-advised.
A “hold my ale and watch this” misadventure. Very few lived into old age.
Elouan and Father took their places at a table on a raised dais, standing behind their chairs.
Teron nodded once to Elouan before splitting away to join friends, keeping his expression carefully neutral.
Through no fault of his own, he’d gone from being a prince of his own court to an independent dragon, taken in by Father’s decree.
By all rights, Teron should be at the head table too, as royalty and an honorary Thorne, but instead he lived in their court as an esteemed guest.
Would Father even consider a courtless dragon as a possibility for Anrai? Daire must broach the subject of allowing Anrai to choose for himself one day soon. Father wasn’t as rigid as those kings spoken of in historical tales. Perhaps he’d be open to the suggestion.
Anrai could be headstrong. Bringing in a strange alpha and saying, “Here’s your mate,” would not end well. For anybody.
Daire’s past teachers told him of kings who ruled through fear, perched upon their thrones, having the dragons under their rule approach one at a time to pledge their fealty at every feast. Some waited for hours! Father didn’t believe in wasting his or anyone else’s time.
Yes, maybe he would consider Anrai’s opinion on a prospective mate, or acknowledge Anrai’s right not to take one at all, if he so chose.
Anrai! Oh, yes. Father’s glance toward them recalled Daire to his duty.
“Anrai! Let’s go!” Daire rose, waiting for his brother to disengage from flirting for the two of them to join the rest of the family.
Father sat first, followed by Elouan to his left, then Daire and Anrai, seated in order of birth.
Mage Sakaris sat to Father’s right. Five places across from Daire remained vacant.
“Where is Uncle Urien?” Daire glanced to the far side of the table, Uncle Urien’s usual place. “It’s not like him to miss an opportunity to remind everyone he’s the king’s brother.” Personally, Daire would rather he stayed away, if not for his absence being a clear insult to Father.
“Daire, be nice,” Elouan scolded, though he’d said the same thing many times.
Father studied the empty chairs, then turned toward Sakaris, the elder so venerable many joked that his wings would creak when he flew, if he hadn’t lost the ability to shift at some point since the dawn of time, when he’d likely been hatched.
He was one of the few remaining mages known to be capable of opening portals to other worlds, especially the human realm of Terra.
Daire tried not to be openly jealous of his brother’s forays there.
“Sakaris, do you know my brother’s whereabouts?” Father asked.
“I’m afraid I do not, Your Majesty,” Sakaris answered. “However, his loyal lapdog Gwythyr is noticeably absent as well.”
Gwythyr, yes, he’d been shadowing Uncle Urien for many seasons. Strange. Daire hadn’t noticed him missing until now. Probably because the loathsome creature always slunk in the shadows, waiting to do Urien’s bidding.
Father sighed. “Is my brother still going on about how he should’ve been king and not me? You’d think after fifty years, he'd find something else to talk about.”
Sakaris offered a sympathetic smile. “He was first hatched, Majesty. In human society, the firstborn is generally the heir by right of birth.”
“This again?” Anrai grumbled. “We all know the Goddess named Father king because Urien would botch the court like he does everything else.”
“Shh!” Daire whispered. “Don’t let anyone hear you say such things. It’s rude.”
Anrai rolled his eyes, one side of his mouth twisted in disgust. “You were thinking it too. I heard what you said a few moments ago. Besides, Sakaris has this area spelled. Only those seated at the table can hear the conversation.”
True, but if not, everyone within hearing distance likely would’ve agreed.
Father said, “We are not human. The Goddess saw fit to declare me king over my brother by awarding me the crown. You’d think he would have accepted his circumstances by now, especially as my alpha son puts him further down the line of succession.”