Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Aurelius’ Bedroom, Draca Kingdom
Aurelius, Alpha Shadow Dragon King
“Brother.” I kneel, resting my hand on the small silver shrine.
It’s beautiful, shaped like a dragon with their wings out.
A crown with twin dragons rests in front of it: Tarquin’s crown.
“It has taken three, long years, but finally, I have beaten the fanged fucker. Tonight, in only an hour, Lan arrives at my palace. Then I will finally gain the chance to fulfill my Blood Oath to you. I haven’t forgotten you, Tarq. I swear on my wings that I never will.”
I lean to light a candle to the side of the shrine. The flame flickers, as if in answer.
My golden armor has been polished to gleaming perfection for the upcoming meeting with the Shadow Vampires, but it has never felt so fucking tarnished.
My crown feels heavy on my head.
Grief surges through me, along with primal rage at the memory of holding my brother’s bloody body in my arms.
A wickedness, which could sweep away the realms in a surge of flames and ash, blazes through me.
I clench my hands on my lap, sucking in a sharp breath.
Then I attempt to slam down hard on the conflicting emotions that are storming through me.
Feel nothing. Be nothing. Feel nothing.
It doesn’t work.
Alarmed, my claws extend, clawing into the shrine. My fangs grow, and I throw back my head and growl.
Am I becoming feral? Losing control after only one week separated from my Omega?
My flame-haired Wolf Goddess.
My eternal flame.
My Vesta.
“Freya,” I murmur through my fangs.
I fall forward, but finally, I can take deep breaths.
Even Freya’s name calms my rage.
She is my new anchor. What grounds me.
Freya told me that I don’t need to hide behind masks when I am with her. She sees the wicked beast that I am. She accepts me. I don’t need to control my emotions any longer.
Because my Omega does love me.
She fucking loves me, as much as I am obsessed with her.
She owns my soul. She always has.
She has no idea what I would do…what I have already done…for her. And I never want her to know.
My cock hardens in my tight leather breeches.
Freya can hate me, as long as she lives.
But if she loves me…?
Then she is the most special person in the Shadow Realms.
I focus on her rose scent, the feel of her arms wrapping around me in the petal strewn water, and her burning, claiming kiss.
My claws and fangs slowly retract.
I sit back on my heels.
My Omega is part of my soul.
She is what has been missing; I never understood why I struggled, alone with my demons. But I’m not alone anymore.
“She called for me,” I say, unable to stop myself from smiling. “Not Hadrian. She chose…loves…me.”
I glance up at the fresco, which is painted on my bedroom wall above the shrine.
It is a grand fresco of Tarquin, which I had commissioned on his death. I needed to feel close to him somehow, whenever I returned from my war campaigns that kept me away from court most of the time.
It is the Tarquin that I remember from my childhood: charming, laughing, and handsome. The brother who invented codes for me alone, meeting with me in secret and teaching me not to trust any of the other traitorous fuckers in the Shadow Court.
I created the Golden Family around myself, each a more dangerous monster than the one before, because I wanted to follow the lessons that Tarquin taught me. They became my best warrior, adviser, assassin, and spymaster.
Also, to protect me from the lessons that I learned at the cruel but too soft hands of my uncle.
I shudder.
My Golden Family became my court within a court.
My bodyguards.
Yet Tarquin was my only brother, the one who sneaked me honey cakes from the royal kitchens (when I was still small enough to live in the palace), after a beating from Uncle.
Still, he never stopped me from being beaten. With Tarquin, familial love was being hurt for your own good, then being comforted as a sign of forgiveness.
My brow furrows.
Only Freya has shown me that love doesn’t need to hurt.
Yet now, it does.
It fucking killed me to see my two dragon riders hanging from chains, then to be ordered to execute them.
I would have rather hacked off my own head.
I shove myself to my feet, balling my hands behind my back.
“Brother,” I mutter, “what secrets did you hide from me? What were you going to tell me that night in the tower, before you were murdered? Sometimes,” the admission is wrenched from me unwillingly, but the words bubble out, “I am so fucking angry with you that you left me. Died and abandoned me. By the Shadow Gods, I wasn’t ready.
Why did nobody train me for the role of king?
Why did you let me be sent away to the academy?
Did you know about the cell that was prepared for me from birth in the dungeons?
The whippings? What…what Uncle Max d-d-did… ?”
I break off with a furious growl, shaking.
The dead fresco stares down at me. It doesn’t answer.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper over the shrine. The candles gutter.
“May your spirit fly eternally with the Shadow Gods.” I start to turn away but then, I add, “The court is trying to match me with the silver Omega, Liviana, who you were courting. I would never dishonor your shade by accepting that. You wouldn’t approve of my chosen Omega, Freya, but she’s my Golden fated mate, and I love her.
It’s funny. If you were truly here, I could never have told you that. ”
I turn away from the shrine to face my large bedroom with a swish of my cloak.
It’s not long until the official peace treaty ceremony.
Not long until I hand over both my secret King and Queen to the Shadow Vampire King to seal the deal.
I pace the marble floor, as anxiety builds in my chest.
My bedroom is simple and uncluttered, a soldier’s room, unlike most of the nobles’ bedrooms in the palace.
I asked for a windowless room to maintain my privacy and avoid Maximinus’ spies.
I hung my Shadow Dragon banners of a fierce golden dragon from my campaigns on the remaining walls because it makes this place feel more like home. Being with my brothers and sisters in the army always felt more like my true home than the court.
Safer.
In the corner of the room is a pile of old blankets, which I have arranged into a small nest.
Beeswax candles flicker on a desk, which is stacked with neat piles of official paperwork. A chest stands next to the desk, which is heavily ornamented with flames of gold on each of its sides.
I hide my most precious objects inside.
A dragon must have their treasure.
Although, my greatest treasure is currently lining my royal dragon’s nest.
I glance at the bed.
It is raised up on a platform with an intricate bronze frame like curling wings and a heavy mattress, stuffed with feathers. It is piled with ornate golden cushions, as well as velvet bedding, which are embroidered with glittering dragons.
My eyes narrow, before I march to the bed.
Then I perch on the edge. “I thought we had an agreement that you could sleep on the lovely nest I made for you on the floor. What? After all those years hunting mice in the dungeons, only a king’s bed will do, huh?”
A large cat with ragged ears and messy tabby fur, Five, is curled in the center of my luxurious bedding, shedding her hair all over it.
I grimace.
The Beta servants can cast me annoyed looks if they like.
I am a king. If I want to allow a cat to sleep in my bed, then that must be one of the perks of royalty.
I sigh.
Why am I looking after Daire’s fleabag, while he’s training with my uncle? Because I know that his cat is like a family member to him? Because the pain in his eyes when I tried to take her away from him as a punishment crushed my heart in a way that I don’t understand?
Five raises her head and gives me a baleful stare out of her one cloudy, blind eye and her one golden eye.
My lips twitch. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to throw you out of my nest. I value my fingers.”
I reach out warily. I risk petting Five between her ragged ears.
Five allows it like a queen permitting worship from a servant.
I smile with surprised fondness, when she starts to purr.
I stroke Five more firmly. “Lan would have loved you, and you would have loved him. All animals treat him like he is their King. It was amazing to watch him use his powers. I always thought that he was the most incredible person I’d ever met.
My best friend. I never understood why he was hated, and I spent my childhood wishing that I could hurry up and get older so that I could find a way to bring him to my own court and protect him…
” I give a hollow laugh, and Five bumps her head against my hand.
“But then, we did get older, but he betrayed me. Now, I’m not bringing him to my court to protect but to destroy him. ”
My chest hurts.
When I first saw Lanlin in Mother’s rose gardens, under the starlight, after I’d slipped out of a political feast to celebrate our Shadow Vampire allies, I thought that I was dreaming.
A Blood with olive skin, who was about the same age as me but smaller, was lying on his back behind a rosebush in a robe adorned with diamonds like the night sky.
A scarab beetle pendant with diamonds for eyes clung to his chest. His long, black hair was spread around him on the grass, as if he was surrounded by shadows.
He was so beautiful, I faltered.
Had I fallen asleep?
Yet I was shocked that a brown rat with coarse fur was sitting on his chest. My eyes widened, as the rat’s scaly, hairless tail whipped out, resting on the Blood’s throat.
Yet the Shadow Vampire was relaxed, appearing to be whispering to the rat like he was truly communicating with it. He was animatedly waving around his hands, which were encased in beautiful, glittering black gloves.
Then he stiffened, sniffing.
Instantly, he stopped talking to the rat, which scurried away under the bush. Its small eyes glared out at me.
The vampire turned toward me. His wine-red eyes glowed in the dark.