Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Islands appear in the glittering water before us. I gasp. Gripping the spikes before me hard, I lean forward and gaze out over Draven’s neck. His wings beat the air, sending ripples across the sea below. Excitement flutters inside me as we close the distance to the first island.
“Welcome to the Western Isles,” Draven says into my mind, a warm smile in his voice. “My home.”
I smile into the pleasant winds.
Late afternoon sunlight shines down from the clear blue sky, bathing the islands in a warm glow and casting golden sparkles across the water. A mass of islands spreads out below us as we fly farther in. I watch them all, utterly fascinated.
Some islands are completely covered in fields and farmland with crops swaying in the breeze.
Others hold lush forests. I stare, my mouth open, as we pass an island full of blooming grasslands where animals are grazing.
A few of the smaller islands are made up entirely of rock with only a small strip of beach around the edge.
The farther in we get, the more buildings appear. Beautiful houses made of wood are located on the islands we pass. Some of them have only one or two houses on them while others, particularly the bigger ones, have what looks like entire villages clustered together.
And all around us, black dragons are taking to the air and flying towards the huge island in the middle, which must be the main island.
Next to us, Lyra lifts her huge dragon head and lets out a roar full of pure joy.
The other dragons return it.
And suddenly, I can feel the echo of Draven’s emotions through our mate bond again, which means that they must be incredibly strong. My heart clenches at which emotions I feel. Joy. Longing. But also fear.
For two hundred years, his people have believed that he willingly sold them out to the Icehearts.
They had no idea that he has been enslaved with dragon steel this entire time.
It wasn’t until right before we escaped Frostfell that Draven’s soldiers learned the truth.
But the civilians who have been living out here on the islands all this time weren’t there to hear it.
I only hope that the soldiers, who flew back here on Draven’s orders after the escape, have told everyone else what really happened. Because if they treat Draven with the same disgust and resentment that his soldiers did when I first got to know him, I fear I might start killing people.
Black smoke drifts through the air as the other dragons shift back into human form when they reach the main island.
It’s quickly swept away by the warm sea breeze.
The slowly setting sun paints a rippling gilded blanket over the gentle waves from the west and casts golden highlights over the buildings on the main island.
In the very middle is an open space which all the dragons seem to use as a landing place before they shift.
On one side of that open space is an incredibly imposing building made of wood so dark that it looks black.
It’s not a house. It’s more like… halfway between a castle and one of those mansions I saw in the wealthier parts of Frostfell.
On the other side of the open space is a gigantic building, also made of wood, which is only one story.
It’s long and wide and flat compared to the other buildings close by, which are at least two stories.
But apart from that, a more normal city spreads out in all directions.
Beautiful wooden buildings with blooming flowers on the windowsills.
Shops with colorful awnings that flutter gently in the wind.
Wells in the middle of smaller squares. A clock tower.
It’s both exactly what I imagined and not at all what I imagined at the same time.
Draven, Galen, and Lyra land in the middle of the open space with three loud thuds. The rest of the Black Dragon Clan, who have gathered around the wide area, fall utterly silent.
Worry flits through me. I expect them to glare at me and Alistair, who are seated on Draven’s and Lyra’s backs. But they don’t. I still move quickly as I get up and slide down to the ground. Alistair does the same.
Once our feet are on the ground, Draven, Galen, and Lyra shift at the same time.
Black smoke envelops us, obscuring the view of the capital around us. But it’s quickly swept away as another salt-tasting wind blows in from the sea.
I hurry over to Alistair, and together, we discreetly back away from the others until we’re standing at the edge where we are not everyone’s main focus.
This is clan business. We shouldn’t intrude on that.
And besides, if they treat Draven poorly, I need to have a good view so that I know who to hurt later.
Draven, in his half-shift form, stands in the middle of the open space with his wings spread wide. Galen and Lyra flank him.
For a few tension-filled seconds, the entire area is dead silent.
Then a male dragon shifter in black armor steps forward.
I squint at him, recognizing him from somewhere.
Then it clicks. He is one of the soldiers I met in their barracks in Frostfell.
Finlay. The guy who apparently won against Lyra in a sparring match but regretted it later because of how much of a sore loser she is.
“Commander Ryat,” Finlay says, his voice carrying over the mass of silent dragon shifters.
I hold my breath.
He keeps his gaze locked on Draven. “On behalf of the entire Black Dragon Clan, I offer you our deepest apologies. We are ashamed by our lack of faith in you and the disgrace we have brought upon ourselves by treating you the way we have. We should have trusted you. You are, and always have been, a true leader of the Black Dragon Clan.”
Dropping his gaze, he lowers himself to one knee. Everyone else in the crowd, soldier and civilian alike, does the same.
“Though we have no right to ask for it,” Finlay continues, his head bowed. “We beg your forgiveness.”
I let out a long breath of relief. He deserves this. Draven deserves this apology and to have his honor restored in the eyes of all of his people.
From where I’m standing, I can’t see Draven’s face. But there is no anger in his voice when he speaks. He just sounds relieved and calm.
“Rise,” he says. “There is nothing to forgive. I am proud of you all for carrying out your duties faithfully even during the most undesirable of circumstances. And now, I’m just glad to be back.”
Clothes rustle as the entire crowd gets to their feet again.
Finlay looks up. There is a wide smile on his face, and I swear I can even see some tears in his eyes as he says, “Welcome home, sir.”
“Welcome home, sir!” other soldiers call.
The civilians join in as well until the entire air is filled with joyous greetings.
A smile spreads across my lips, and the last of the tension bleeds out of me. Slumping back in relief, I lean against the wooden wall of the building behind us. Alistair takes a casual half step back and leans against it as well.
For a few minutes, we just remain there side by side, watching Draven, Lyra, and Galen greet people. There is a smile on Draven’s face the whole time, and his eyes glitter like sparkling gold. It warms my entire soul. Happiness suits him.
“He’s a better man than I am,” Alistair says.
I glance over at him in surprise, but his green and orange eyes remain locked on Draven.
“Forgiving the people who treated him like shit for two hundred years?” Alistair shakes his head. “I would never have been able to do it. The people who held me down and burned me, if I ever meet them again, I would…” He sucks his teeth. “I would probably take Isera up on her offer.”
Isera’s voice drifts through my mind, echoing the words she spoke to Alistair after he told us about the fae who hurt him. If you point them out, I could always just shove an ice shard through their throats.
“So yeah, he’s a better man than I am,” Alistair finishes. Then he cuts me a sharp look. “But don’t tell him I said that.” He draws his pale brows down in a scowl. “Or the bossy bastard might start to think that I actually like him.”
I suppress a knowing chuckle. “Which you obviously don’t.”
“Obviously.”
“Uh-huh.”
As if he could hear us talking about him, Draven detaches himself from the crowd and strides over to us. When Lyra realizes that, she jogs after him as well. Galen, however, is still deep in conversation with Finlay. No doubt getting updates on the state of their forces.
Alistair and I straighten from the wall when Draven reaches us. I expect him to just say something, but instead, he slides his hand along my jaw, tilts my head back and kisses me. Right there in front of everyone.
My heart skips several beats, and I forget to breathe completely, which leaves me gasping when Draven at last breaks the kiss and pulls back.
“I’ve got to take care of a few clan business things that apparently can’t wait,” he simply says, as if kissing me like that in front of his entire clan is the most natural thing in the world. “Are you okay here for a little while? I’ll be back in like fifteen minutes.”
I’m still trying to recover from the incredible feeling of being kissed like that, so I have to draw in another breath while nodding before I manage to reply, “Yes, of course. Take all the time you need.”
“Good.” A mischievous smile tugs at his lips, and his eyes gleam. “Tonight, we’ll celebrate.”
I raise my eyebrows, a devilish smile on my own lips. “Celebrate? You? I thought the only thing you knew how to do was stare broodily at the horizon.”
He chuckles. Grabbing my jaw, he steals a possessive kiss from my lips. “Smartass.” Another dark laugh rumbles from his chest. “Well, I guess it’s already too late for you to watch your mouth now, little rebel. Because tonight, I will find another use for it.”
A thrill ripples through my body.
“Ugh,” Alistair groans. “Seriously? I’m right here, guys.”