Chapter 1 #2
“Hmm. So I’m to be the ultimate prize, not because I’ve faithfully served as your master-of-arms for two centuries, but because I’m the most exquisite berserkatrix to ever live. Figures.”
“I don’t think your appearance was mentioned,” I replied, trying not to grin. A common effect when in the presence of the ultra-confident bordering on egotistical Adelaide.
“Upp, upp, upp.” She reached out to press a finger against my lips. “My incomparable beauty doesn’t need to be mentioned. It’s always implied.”
I laughed against her finger, then nipped it. “You won’t be marrying anyone but your firebrand, Lady Laid. I swear it.”
“You did not just call me that,” she said, swatting at me. “Since the world’s most perfect woman deserves the world’s most perfect man, and he doesn’t exist, I’m prepared to die a spinster, and you know that.”
I ducked out of the way, commanding, “Convene the council. I’ll deal with the newest Locke and return within the hour for a…chat.”
“Shouldn’t you change before you go?” She waved to indicate my royal dress. “Just in case you fly into an ambush.”
“Ambush smambush. I’m not the one who will be dying today.” I didn’t wait for a response but leaped from the balcony. Smoke unfurled from between my shoulder blades, remained connected to my back and quickly crystalized, hardening into wings with a shiny outer layer.
Wind whipped my hair and gown as I soared through the air.
Up ahead, an entire dragon army stood watch in the sky.
Warriors parted, forming a wide path for me, revealing a circle of floating stones.
Ten sets of two, each massive monolith carved from star-flecked obsidian and veined with glowing gold that pulsed as if powered by a slow heartbeat.
The traveling stones. Doorways to other realms. They hovered effortlessly in the air, swaying ever so slightly on an unseen current.
Wisps of mist coiled between each pair, creating those doorways.
I slipped through the desired path, Ashmorra vanishing.
As I shot out the other side, icy mountains appeared.
Frigid wind blustered, pelting a thousand little needle pricks against my skin.
I didn’t let it slow me, tracing my gaze over the rocky, snow-covered terrain.
Jagged peaks rose in unforgiving waves. A cloak of white frost covered dense pine forests.
Creaks and snaps sounded as tree limbs gave under the weight of the snow. Locke was…
There! The heat inside me cranked to a hard boil.
He stood on an ice-white cliff, impossible to miss.
Ash and embers, he looked good. Gusts of wind whipped through hair the color of midnight.
I’d never seen him in person, only in photos and through the camera feed.
I’d been unwilling to get close. Wise of me. Now, my mind drank in his every detail.
Bronzed from the sun. Tall and lean, cut with hard-won muscle. Too harsh to be handsome but gorgeous despite it. Eyes the color of frozen honey. A thick shadow beard graced his strong jaw, and old scars slicked every inch of available skin. Around his neck hung a ring from a chain.
My chest tightened. He wore an outfit similar to what Leopold had preferred: wool tunic, a long fur-trimmed cloak, leather pants and combat boots.
Thankfully, that was where the similarities ended.
Though my Leo had spent half of his life on battlefields, fighting dragons, the man before me looked as if he’d seen more violent warfare.
Power and ferocity emanated from him. Despite wearing my old shackles.
I scanned for signs of a lurking twin…
But nein, we were alone.
Resigned, I glided to the cliff’s edge, suddenly mere feet away from the admittedly impressive Professor Taron Locke. Only then did I catch his scent. A trace of cedar, pine and heaven.
Shivers rippled down my spine, uninvited and entirely unwelcome.
“You are a fool to wear those chains,” I said, speaking in English, his language, rather than my natural German. I allowed my smoke wings to break apart and disappear into the atmosphere. “I assume your father taught you about their significance.”
“He and my grandfather told me the tales, yes.” He raked his gaze over me slowly, as if cataloging every nuance, then let out a sound that was half irritation, half amusement.
“Of course, Olyssa Drachenveil, Queen of Dragons, the she-beast connected to the Chains of O, gets more beautiful each time I see her,” he muttered.
He’d never seen me. I’d made sure of it.
Spray him with my hottest fire. Burn him or bond him. End him or crown him.
The thought flared, bringing the sharpest of urges with it. A longing that infected every fiber of my being. I raised my chin. “Your father and grandfather waited until they were old or dying to attempt immortality. Neither descriptor applies to you.” My acute senses detected only health.
“I didn’t come for either of those things.”
As I’d suspected. “Then what?” I asked, genuinely perplexed.
“To see you. To speak with you.” He stepped closer, the links between the cuffs clinking.
“To tell you something I’ve wished to say for two decades.”
Curiosity rivaled the lure of the chains I’d despised for most of my centuries-long life.
I’d known he comprehended berserkers and shifters were real, obviously.
If the Locke generations hadn’t passed down the legend of the dragon queen, his profession would’ve given him away.
He must want to say and ask thousands of things.
“I’m listening.” If he wished to explain how, exactly, he’d snuck into my realm, I’d be down for that, too.
He dipped his head, all sensual grace and constrained strength.
“I have accepted the mission of my ancestors and now live only for your downfall. I will kill you, as I killed your soldier Matthias, and I’ll do it here, where you slew my father.
Justice has come for you, Queen Olyssa, and nothing can stop it. ”