Chapter 29
Lucas
The valley where the old quarry lay cradled between the jagged spines of the mountains beyond Crystafalls, a remote area that Lucas knew well. It was the perfect place to meet Voilear because whatever devastation followed would scorch only barren rock and empty fields.
His dragon blood answered the challenge as Voilear descended from the clouds in a spiral of chaos and evil, and his eyes bright with confidence and anticipation that Lucas understood even as he prepared to oppose it.
Voilear did not roar immediately, and that restraint was more terrifying than fury, because it spoke of discipline and purpose, and when at last his voice thundered across the valley it carried not hatred but conviction, declaring that the kingdom demanded strength unclouded by sentiment, that rule required sacrifice, that the past must bow to the future.
Lucas answered not with words but with fire.
He launched upward in a surge of flame and wind, his wings tearing through the air with a sound like splitting timber. The collision between them shook loose stones from the cliff faces as claw met claw and flame met flame.
Voilear fought with the precision of a general defending a throne, Lucas fought with something far more dangerous. The ferocity of a man who refused to lose his family.
A tail strike with the force of a battering ram sent Lucas crashing into the valley wall. The stone splintered beneath his weight and pain flashed through his body.
“You would risk it all for one woman,” Voilear’s voice boomed across the clash of wings.
“For my family,” Lucas answered, and the word carried more power than flame.
They rose again with claws locked as they twisted in midair, and Voilear’s jaws snapped inches from his throat.
With a roar that split the sky, Lucas twisted free, drove upward above Voilear, and then descended in a blazing arc.
His claws struck against the other dragon’s shoulder joint, not to kill but to disable, and the impact sent Voilear crashing into the valley floor in a plume of smoke and shattered stone.
When the dust settled, Voilear lay pinned beneath Lucas’s weight, both of them back in their human shape. Within minutes, Bryce and his team had Voilear and all of his men apprehended and tied up.
Lucas wrapped his arms around Sia when he returned to the main part of the quarry. She had run out with a look of battle on her face. Celeste ran into their arms with questions and laughter, oblivious to the battle that had nearly reshaped her world.
He brushed soot from Sia’s cheek with trembling fingers. He had almost lost them and the thought scared him to death.
“Let’s go home,” he murmured.
The instructor had been moved to the healer when they all returned to the dance studio where anxious parents waited. A collective cheer went up, followed by hugs and more hugs. Lucas’s heart was full as he took his family home.
. . . . .
Two months later, Lucas called the entire Trust Council to session. It was out of the ordinary for him to call them, but he was resolute that it was within his power to do so.
Sia stood beside him before the assembled council who sat in rigid formation beneath the crest of the crown, their expressions composed yet wary, because they had heard rumors of Voilear’s fall, and they knew that whatever Lucas declared today would not be a mere formality.
He took a step forward and the murmur in the room faded away. Lucas let the silence stretch before continuing.
“For generations,” he said, sweeping his gaze across the gathered council, “we’ve pretended the future of this kingdom can be decided by a single detail. A male heir.”
One of the elders folded his arms. “That is the tradition, not pretending.”
Lucas met his stare. “Yes. It is. But tradition alone doesn’t make a good ruler.”
A ripple of whispers moved through the room.
He took another step forward. “Tell me something. Does the wheat grow better if the farmer is a man?”
No one answered.
“At the bakery,” Lucas continued, “does the bread taste better if it was baked by a woman?”
He saw Sia’s lips twitch, but she managed to control the smile.
Lucas clasped his hands behind his back. “Leadership isn’t decided by gender. It never has been. It’s decided by judgment. By strength of character. By wisdom. By devotion to the people who depend on us.”
Aldrek shook his head. “Are you suggesting that we cast aside centuries of order?”
“I’m saying that I’m going to improve it,” Lucas said calmly.
He looked around the chamber, making sure every person heard him clearly.
“Listen carefully because this is not up for debate. From this day forward, succession in the Kingdom of Crystafalls will not bow to a rule built only on gender.” His voice hardened slightly. “The future ruler will be chosen by the heir who proves they have the integrity to lead.”
The chamber went still.
Lucas let the weight of the moment settle before finishing. “A crown,” he said, “whether king or queen, demands far more than gender. It demands a leader.”
His voice carried with unmistakable authority as he declaration rippled through the hall like a strong wind.
One elder rose, indignation tightening his features as he spoke of precedent and stability, of ancient customs that preserved order, but it vanished when Lucas’s expression hardened, not with cruelty but with resolve.
“You advise me,” he said evenly, though steel threaded every syllable, “but I reign, not you.”
The words fell heavy and undeniable, and when he added, almost casually, that the council existed at the crown’s discretion and not the reverse, the implication settled into stunned silence, because they all knew he possessed the authority, and the power, to dismantle them entirely if pushed too far.
Sia stepped forward beside him. “Our daughters and any future children have been, and will be, raised not as rivals but as individuals called to serve according to their gifts. When the time comes, your king and I will delegate duties as we see fit.”
Lucas’s hand tightened slightly around hers. The moment had come.
“There is more,” he said. He sucked in a deep breath as emotion rushed him. “My wife, Queen Sia, is with child.”
Sia threw her arms around him and his heart swelled because of the unspoken understanding that this child, son or daughter, would be cherished first and measured later by character alone. He rested his hand on her belly as they turned to face the council.
“We will make the royal proclamation this afternoon.”
Cheers went up and the council bowed deeply.’
Aldrek congratulated them first. “The kingdom has shifted but not through conquest but through choice. Whatever child enters your arms will inherit not a throne burdened by rigid expectation but a legacy strengthened by courage, unity, and the audacity to change. Well done, Lucas.”
A small celebration followed. Lucas stood off to the side and took it all in, with Sia by his side. The past still echoed in the castle, but it had blended into the future instead of preventing it.