Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Kallias
She curled against her father, eyes fixed on the sunset. Her hair sat twisted in a rough knot, a leather-wrapped arm draped around her frame.
A black dragon glided past the landing, slitted pupil trained on me. I eased back a step, not meaning to intrude. But Nereus turned, glare sharp, then rose.
Regret stirred in my chest. Their moments together were fleeting. I couldn’t say when—or if—we’d ever return to Draconia. At least their bond had endured, despite everything.
The Dragon King adjusted his jacket as Nienna leaned over the edge. My heart lurched into my throat.
She belonged to the skies.
Dragons swarmed the island. Nothing would happen to her.
But they’ve failed before, allowed her to be attacked by another man. Accidents still happened.
Nereus approached, glower set like flint. I met him straight, spine locked. I wouldn’t shirk his challenges.
He sighed, then clapped a heavy hand over my mantle. The added weight dragged at my shoulders, but I stood firm, refusing to shift.
“I didn’t mean to impose,” I offered.
When he glanced back, Nienna tugged her hair loose, wild in the wind, and his scowl eased, gaze softening. “She’s your Tsunami now.” He patted my shoulder, shook his head, and kept walking.
I squinted after him. Tsunami? A wave after an earthquake?
Steeling myself, I braved the landing, half-expecting a dragon to knock me aside like a cat toying with prey.
My stomach coiled as my boots scuffed along the black stone. I was bred for the dirt and sand, not sky. But Nienna felt safe here. That had to count for something.
She turned, eyes bright, lips curled in a coy smile. “Care to join me, King of Radaan?”
“It would be my honor, Lady of the Skies.” I grunted, glaring down. The stone dropped into air, a void beneath my feet, promising a violent end with my remains splattered against a rooftop.
Still, I sat, muscles locked, every breath wary.
“You won’t fall.”
Her smirk curved as she hummed. Her joy buzzed through the wind, contagious. I shook my head, easing into her mirth. I wanted to draw her close, pull her to my side, let the world see what she meant to me. But not yet.
Later. After our vows.
“Your father said you’re my tsunami.” Sunlight broke on the waves, a blinding flare. “Does that make you my doom?”
She laughed, head thrown skyward. Golden locks brushed the back of my hand. I fought the urge to catch a strand.
“The dragon.” She pointed toward a blue-green figure tumbling high above. “Tsunami’s a menace. It’s how we say, ‘Now it’s your problem.’”
“I’d take you either way.”
She peeked at me, lip caught between teeth. “You have her to thank. She’s the reason you were able to land. Father said she claimed the northern sky the day you arrived.”
“And he listens to her?” I chuckled. Nereus didn’t seem the type to take cues from beasts.
“Tsunami is…” She scrunched her face, tracking a bluish-green dragon banking above. “Well, the beast’s more trouble than she’s worth. Grown, clever, always stirring up fights and tipping ships.”
“Ships?”
“Fishing vessels. A rider’s usually stationed nearby to keep her away. She’ll dump a ship to grab an easy meal.”
“She doesn’t hunt on her own?”
“Dragons are opportunistic feeders at heart. When they bond with a rider, many of their wild tendencies are tempered. Tsunami never bonded—she’s sharp but untamed.”
“Sounds like a scaled babe.”
“That would be an accurate description.” Nienna hummed, fingers inching closer to my thigh. “A very large one with teeth the size of your arm.”
“I saw her when I arrived.”
She blinked, confused.
“She landed in the courtyard.” My lips formed a line. “Your dragons are larger than I anticipated. Radaan will need time to get used to them.”
“What did you expect?” She laughed, relaxing again. “You saw Gyrak.”
“I figured he was one of the biggest. With the island’s limited resources, I assumed most would be smaller.”
“They don’t need land—only sky.” She smiled, knuckles pressing against my leg. “And they have all the fish they could eat—if they hunt. Argos is the largest. Kalepsi, the queen, second. Their clutch hatches soon.”
“And the dragonlings?”
“As large as horses.”
“Truly?” I imagined smaller eggs, but Argos’ size made that laughable.
“They won’t bond with a rider for quite some time. On the Wild Shores, they’d have more experienced parents. They’d grow stronger, bigger. Less chance of them falling to a predator.”
“What could possibly prey upon a dragon?” I asked, genuinely curious. Anything out there that viewed the massive, fire-breathing creatures as food… I never wanted to meet it.
“Nothing I’ve seen. But bonded dragons refuse to sleep overnight on the Wild Shores.”
“Hence the reason Nereus only claims lordship.”
“We’re the only ones who could claim it. Our beasts would defend us against their untamed kin—no other island has that. But we can’t settle there.”
“And have you sent a man-only crew?”
Her brows crept up to her hairline. “You suggest sending men to sleep on a shore that dragons avoid?”
I snorted, tilting my head in agreement. “Fair point, but it seems odd.”
She leaned forward, dusk spilling across the horizon. “Bonded or not, we are theirs. Just as you trust your gods—we trust the beasts.”
Draconia and Radaan—different as stars and soil. But our beliefs were mirrored.
I shifted the topic back to the upcoming celebrations. “And the dragonlings hatch in a few days?”
She nodded. “The Awakening starts before the hatching, then ends with their first feeding.”
“I’m eager to see a Draconis festival.”
Her eyes glittered, and she ducked her head. Something like nerves stirred in my gut. What was she planning? I’d have to ask Fallione for more details to better prepare myself for whatever unfolds.
“Would you care to join me tomorrow? To see a master kite maker? It’s for the celebration.”
“Nienna, if you asked me to follow you to a speck of sand, I would.”
I was ruined. Her light laughter lifted and vanished on the breeze. Chill kissed her cheeks, painting them a soft red. Eyes the color of the deepest sea sparkled with mischief. At that moment, Radaan and all its troubles seemed so far away.
The carriage—half the size of those in Reem—was made with Draconia’s tight streets in mind. As Nienna descended the stairs beside me, I wondered how far this kite maker might be.
Greaves shadowed my steps, blades strapped to his body. Nienna’s handmaid, Freya—introduced to me that morning—trailed behind, casting curious glances my way that I pretended not to notice.
I opted not to wear my sword. In Radaan I bore it proudly—a reminder that I was the warrior king Elohios chose. But here—these people needed an assurance of peace.
Two white horses stood at the carriage’s head, placid and steady. Their quiet presence brought to mind Nienna’s wild ride through Reem. Here, in the city, there was no room for them to panic and bolt. Maybe at the beach, but not in these cramped streets.
All eyes followed us down the stone stairs.
Nienna wore violet—the color of wildflowers—with pearls along her high collar, drawing my gaze to her slender neck.
The dress bore the typical Draconis split, black trousers tucked into dark leather boots.
Her hair, pulled into intricate braids, cascaded like a waterfall to the small of her back.
A servant adorned in blue and silver opened the carriage door and lowered the steps. I offered my hand, and Nienna’s delicate fingers slipped into mine, squeezing as she climbed inside. Freya followed, cheeks flushed as she accepted my aid.
Before I entered, I caught Greaves frowning at the skyline. With only a moment’s hesitation, I took the spot next to Nienna. When my friend got in, he surveyed the seating with a furrowed brow.
“The greatest risk comes from above.” Freya patted the velvet seat beside her. “You have the best vantage point here.”
Nienna pressed her lips together, smothering her grin—some shared secret between them.
I adjusted for comfort, and my thigh brushed against hers. The small bench left no room to avoid contact.
When Greaves settled into his place, he angled himself away from Freya. The motion was subtle—but, by Elohios, the woman scooted a fraction closer.
His glare warned me I’d pay for this later.
The heat burning through my trousers was enough to distract me from his quiet fury.
We rolled through K’bar, a southern craft city. Draconia split into four districts, each with purpose. I had walked K’lan—the harbor and trade hub.
Even the city’s sounds differed from Radaan’s. Here, voices crowded, pressing into ears and mind, and all stacked on top of each other, demanding attention. Dragon roars and chirps echoed in the distance, overlapping the incessant cries of gulls.
Reddish-brown buildings towered overhead, squeezing roads into a tangled web. It would be a terrible place for battle.
Soon, the carriage halted. The door swung open and Greaves was first out—not duty, but by choice. He might give me grief for sitting too close to Nienna in public, but I wouldn’t let him forget how he leapt out as if the maid were a flame waiting to consume him.
Greaves disliked attention. Quiet and watchful, he preferred observing to being observed.
After helping the women down, I stepped beside her onto the sand-dusted path.
“And you feared the Andeluith,” I muttered, craning my neck to catch the thin line of sky above the rooftops. Down here, no sunlight reached the path. The corridor pressed in, dark and cramped.
“I can still see the sky,” she whispered, defensive. “And I could climb to the roof in mere moments. I’m not trapped under a mountain.”
I chuckled, wrapping the banter around me as if it were armor. In the road, Draconis paused and stared. Their lips parted in disbelief, brows low with suspicion, shoulders tight with disdain. Nienna moved forward, spine straight, demanding their bows and respect with each step.