Chapter 2
THIRTEEN YEARS OLD
Amos’s knee bounced as he awaited the name of his fated mate.
At midnight on a royal fae’s thirteenth birthday, the gods whispered the first name of their fated mate for only them to hear.
After that, birth records across all of the kingdoms were checked for someone born on the exact day as the royal with that name.
Amos once asked his tutor why the gods didn’t give a surname, and he’d said it was because, at the beginning of Eden, surnames didn’t exist. The weak excuse didn’t make sense. They’re gods. If anyone could change the rules, they could.
The clock was nearing midnight, and Amos wondered what the gods sounded like.
Then his mind wandered to his future mate: her name, what she looked like, whether they would get along, and what her emotions would feel like.
He would only be able to feel them when they were strong, but feeling random emotions at random times every day sounded exhausting.
“I have the list of your potential mates,” Alice told him, holding out a stack of papers. “Your mother gathered them years ago without your father knowing.” She smiled fondly. “She thought of everything.”
Amos took the papers, and Alice smoothed a hand over her grey-streaked hair. “Are you nervous?”
She sighed and sat beside him on the bed. “Yes. We’ll have to find your mate as soon as possible—before your father knows, or she tells anyone about the bond. She might not understand what she’s feeling, but adults will, and they’ll talk.”
“What if her family is loyal to the king?” he asked, voicing his biggest concern. “I guess we can kidnap her and hide her away.” It seemed like the only solution.
Alice snorted. “You can’t go around kidnapping people, boy.”
He could, but he decided to keep that to himself. After all, he could make them invisible to sneak his mate out if needed.
“There are just as many people in this kingdom who don’t agree with your father’s reign as there are those who do.” She tapped her finger against her leg in thought. “If they’re loyalists, we’ll figure out a way to get her out. We can hide her in the human kingdom if needed.”
He’d thought of that too. Protecting his mate and sister was almost all he’d thought about since his mother died. That, and training hard enough to kill his father when the time came.
Alice patted his shoulder. “Close your eyes. It’s almost time.”
Swallowing hard, Amos did as she said and waited.
Clover.
He sucked in a sharp breath at the eerie voice that disappeared as quickly as it had come. His eyes flew open, and he frantically searched the papers in his hand, setting aside the first one with the name and scanning the rest.
Thank the gods. Only one Clover on the list—and she lived in the Desert Kingdom. He would’ve had to rely solely on Alice and Charlotte if she’d been in another kingdom.
“It’s her,” he said, pointing at Clover’s name on the paper. “Clover Ambrose.”
He repeated the name under his breath and rubbed at his chest, wondering when he’d feel her through their bond.
Alice smiled, her eyes shining. “That’s a beautiful name.”
He felt stupid and weak for calling something beautiful, so he said nothing, even though he secretly agreed.
“You need to keep your emotions in check as best you can,” Alice advised. “The less she feels before she knows, the better.”
Amos scrubbed a hand through his blond hair.
He could do this. For his mate, he could do anything.
His father didn’t protect his mother, but Amos would protect Clover.
The official story was that the queen died of a mysterious illness, but he and Alice didn’t believe it.
Her symptoms came on suddenly after dinner one night, consistent with stomach poisoning—only worse.
The only question was why? Everyone loved his mother.
Amos grabbed the sheet of paper and coal pencil on his nightstand to jot Clover’s information down and tucked it in his pocket. He stood and bent down to slide his already packed bag out from under his bed.
“I wish you’d let me come with you,” Alice lamented.
They’d spoken about this at length. He needed to find his mate and figure out what to do with her before his fake birthday.
His father’s wrath had worsened since his mother’s death, and Amos knew he’d pay dearly for disappearing for however long this would take.
The last thing he needed was Alice’s death on his shoulders because even though she was as respected as a woman could be in their kingdom, his father would kill her for not alerting him to Amos’ departure.
“You can’t.” He stood to his full height, straightening his leather vest over his long-sleeved button-down shirt.
Checking his dagger holster on his hip, he blew out a breath and retrieved his hat from the hook on his wall.
The brim was wide and curled on the side to protect him from the blistering sun during the day.
“He’ll kill you, and we both know it. It’s better if you claim ignorance. ”
“You’ve had to grow up too fast,” she murmured. “No thirteen-year-old should carry this responsibility.”
A single tear tracked down her face, and Amos had to look away. “I’m to be king one day. It’s better I learn now.”
Alice stood and threw her arms around him, making him stiffen. He’d never liked hugs, but he’d allowed his mother and Alice to give them anyway.
Awkwardly patting her back, he stepped back and strode to the door. Alice swiped at a tear. “I’ll write to Charlotte and let her know we may need her help hiding Clover.”
Amos tipped his hat. “Thank you. I’ll send word when I know more.”
Alice had a box at the post on the other side of the capital so frequent letters wouldn’t be delivered to the palace.
Queen Charlotte had an alias they wrote to as well so as not to draw any attention.
The system had worked for his mother since she’d left Amelia in the human kingdom, and Amos prayed it would hold up until he killed his father.
It occurred to him that wherever they hid Clover, he’d have to write to her, too. He sighed. He hated writing letters.
With a last goodbye to Alice, he glamoured himself invisible and crept through the palace until he was safely out of the courtyard. His glamour could create mirages, including making others think they couldn’t see him, but it didn’t muffle sound.
Still glamoured, he made his way toward the stables, jumping back when Sasha, his father’s dragon familiar, landed in front of him.
Familiars and dragons were the only creatures who could see through a royal’s glamour.
Knowing his father could see and hear through Sasha if he chose, Amos’ veins turned to ice.
The blood red dragon didn’t come to the capital often, opting to stay with the other dragons in their den, but since Bianca’s death, she’d been coming around more. Her reptilian eyes blinked at Amos, and he didn’t know what to do.
“Is he in there?” he whispered. Sasha shook her head, and Amos’ knees almost buckled with relief until he remembered familiars and their bonded could speak to each other with their minds. “I’m just going for a walk,” he lied.
The dragon huffed as if to say, “I’m not an idiot.”
Crap. “I—” Sasha huffed again.
He stared at the dragon, who looked at him expectantly.
She’d saved him from his father not long ago.
His father had started hitting him, something he never did when the queen was still alive.
Familiars were supposed to be close with their bonded, but she’d gone against the king to stop him from assaulting his son.
They’d been in the training arena and she’d been perched on the stone platform reserved for the dragons. Every royal received their bonded familiar at age fifteen, and every Desert royal’s familiar had been a dragon. Amos couldn’t wait to meet his.
But that day, Amos had tried to help up his sparring partner, something his father viewed as weakness. “A king does not lower himself to others,” he boomed, stomping his way toward the ring. Just as he reared back, Sasha slammed onto the ground and stood behind Amos with a low growl.
His father’s eyes had glazed slightly as a silent conversation transpired between the two. When they cut the connection, he glared at Amos. “Do not let it happen again.” The king had stormed off. His father had come to his room later that night and finished what she’d interrupted.
“You tried to help me.”
The dragon nodded once. He didn’t know if he could trust her, but he also knew she wasn’t going to let him pass.
“I can’t tell you why I’m leaving or where I’m going, but it’s important,” he said finally. “I’ll be back before my birthday, but I have to do this.”
She considered him for a moment longer. Finally, she nudged him with her nose and took to the skies.
FIVE DAYS LATER
Amos had ridden hard the entire way to Dragon Village in the far northwestern area of the Desert Kingdom. The village sat at the intersection of the Human Kingdom and Mountain Kingdom’s border, aptly named for the largest known entrance to the dragons’ den.
No one had been inside the den because the dragons were too territorial and killed any man who’d tried to throw ropes and ladders over the cliffs leading inside.
The only people who weren’t burned to a crisp before going over the edge were the sacrifices. For the last couple of centuries, the Desert Kingdom had made what the crown deemed ‘necessary sacrifices’ to the dragons in order to keep them happy.
Amos didn’t believe that for a second. He suspected it was started as a way to keep the women in line, seeing as how sacrifices were always women who dared defy the Desert Kingdom’s way of life.
Whether for labor, breeding, or ornamental, women existed to please men. That’s what his father told him.