EPILOGUE
THE REALM IS AT PEACE for the first time in almost three decades.
Fae are still celebrating even six months after the final battle—the battle where everything changed for me and my family.
The camps that Lord Craven had set up have been torn down, something Vasari and I were eager to do.
And even though I’ve outlawed using Nulls—now known as just simply fae, because that’s what they are despite their inability to wield—as unpaid help or servants, there is still some discourse, but it’s nothing we can’t handle.
Anyone found to be breaking that law is sentenced to prison or death depending on the situation.
A lot of the high echelons of society were not pleased with this, but fuck them.
They don’t get to abuse someone because they see them as lesser.
I rub where scars along my wrists used to be—now covered in simple tattoos—and I find myself missing them.
Most people leave wars with more scars then they went in with, but not me.
It’s as if my past never existed. The tattoos are a reminder of the pain I went through.
A different type of scar, but beautiful.
I offered to get rid of my mates’ scars and only Talyn took me up on it. Killian is proud to wear his now, and Jesper loves how menacing he looks with his scarred eye.
In fact, one of the first positions I hired for was for the Lordship of Imperset, or should I say Ladyship. The position now belongs to Jesper’s mother—the first magickless fae in our history to hold such a high title.
I smile proudly, thinking back to Jesper waltzing into his former home there and killing his father’s mate, the one who scarred his eye, and sending her daughters out onto the street with a measly bag of coin. He’s been back and forth helping his mother get settled in.
“Beastie!” I hear him as he enters the foyer I’m waiting in, throwing the doors open wide as he saunters inside to join the rest of my mates by my side.
“You’re late,” Ember states, rolling her eyes.
He slides up beside me and kisses my temple. “Only by a few minutes, and she’s not entered the throne room yet, so I would say I am on time.” He winks at me and I can’t help but shake my head.
Ember places her hands on her hips. “You’re lucky I’m the one who took over as lead advisor for your mate,” she tells Jesper. “If it was still the other ones, they would have tried to hang you up by your pinky toes over a group of feral mating dragons!”
He pouts and I grab his hand. “You’re fine. We can’t do this without you, anyway.”
Today is the day of the celebratory ball, my first since I was officially crowned Queen of the realm.
There was a lot that certain fae had to say about my new magick, worried that I would be corrupted like Craven was, but it is my birthright, and after months of proving myself to the fae of this realm, I will continue to honour my legacy.
I decided to keep Madam Windwhisper on my staff to help coordinate all of the more elaborate affairs and help keep the castle in order.
She’s been waiting to throw this ball since we arrived back in the city.
If it was up to her, it would have happened that week, but I’m not sorry we postponed it.
Now everyone has been free to look forward to it, and today is the day.
This ball is supposedly good for relations between all the provinces, and one hasn’t been held with all five since the Winter Solstice Ball all those years ago.
Bells toll in the distance and I turn to face the grand doors that will lead to socializing, drinks and hopefully no scandals.
My mates surround me. Their presence is steady at my back.
Everything and nothing between us has changed.
We are closer than ever. A true wing and bonded group.
They each place a hand on me subtly and the bond hums with emotions that calm me, something they’ve been doing more often while I am still learning to keep my new budding magick at bay.
Ember sighs before smoothing down her stunning red dress and linking her arm through Rozen’s. They’ll enter first and inform the announcer that we are entering next, as per Madam Windwhisper’s instructions. “Ready?” I hear her whisper to Rozen.
He smirks, winking at her. “Ready as I’ll ever be. To think that we befriended the future queen at a military academy while shovelling gryphon shit together.”
Lennox laughs as he comes up behind us. “To think I listened to that vile bitch and shoved my now-Queen’s head into dirty dish water and she somehow forgave me.”
Nero caws and puffs up his plumage. “I’m not sure I’ve forgiven him for that yet.”
I shake my head and laugh. “Mel was definitely the reason you were forgiven faster.”
His smile turns sad as he lets out a breath. “She had a way with people.” He glances at the doors where the music seems to be getting louder. “She would have loved this.”
I nod. “She would have.” A memory sits on the tip of my tongue but I can’t place it. The feeling is warm before it slides away to be forgotten once more. “Where’s Cynder?” I ask Lennox, knowing he hasn’t wanted to leave her side much.
Talyn shuffles behind me and I can sense his annoyance through the bond. “I thought you would be all over Cynder like Nero on a set of fresh eyeballs,” he growls.
I roll my eyes, still ever protective of the poor female.
Lennox mumbles something under his breath before saying, “She’s with the Raiders inside already. She’s not really a fan of all of this.” He waves his hand around, gesturing to the castle and all the pomp that comes with being a royal.
I laugh. “No, you’re right. As much as I would like her here, I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”
He smiles gratefully and nudges Roz’s arm, whispering something to him.
“I’m worried about him,” I mutter and Aemon pulls me in for a hug.
“He’ll be okay. Now, can we talk about how ravishing you are in this dress?” He spins me toward him and all my mates are staring at me with heated gazes.
Ember, Cynder and I decided to go dress shopping together in the city of Maleen, and when I saw the dress, I knew it was the perfect one.
It’s black, yet shimmers like snow in the moonlight, with roses embroidered into the tulle.
The silver metallic stitching woven along the corset reminds me of lightning, and of course it wouldn’t be complete without a snowdrop corsage fastened to my wrist. A piece of each of my mates, just like my bonding mark that covers my side.
“I can’t wait to take it off you after the night is over,” Killian grumbles, running the back of his knuckle along my cheek.
Ember’s voice pulls me from the dirty thoughts before they could form. “Okay, places! The door is opening in three, two, one…”
The giant doors open silently and the noise from within slowly quiets as the musicians’ music changes to a more ceremonial melody. Voices hush, and a sea of fae turn toward us as Ember hurries in and whispers to the announcer.
“The Queen and Kings of Damorleia! Queen Ravina-Maeven Pendroko. King Aemon Pendroko, King Killian Pendroko, King Jesper Pendroko and King Talyn Pendroko!” He slams his staff to the ground twice and I clear my throat, glancing at Nero and back.
The announcer turns red and quickly adds, “And The Queen’s familiar, Nero, the Great Eyeball Collector!
” Then he slams his staff again and the room bows, making a pathway to the thrones for us.
That was one of the first changes I made.
My mates and I are equals, and it never felt right to me that the Queen’s mates were called consorts.
Since we are bonded, they all decided to take my last name, and I can definitely say that I don’t hate it.
Plus it’s another reminder to the public that my males broke ties with the lords and their traitorous ways.
“He forgot about me. He is on the list to be watched now,” Nero adds, eyeing the male as if he’s plotting on how to retrieve his next eye.
“Nero…” I sigh, knowing it’s pointless to try to dissuade him.
We enter and make our way to the thrones, and once we sit, the music and partygoers continue, rising from their kneeled or curtseyed positions.
I sigh in relief—the most nerve wracking part is over, and now it’s time to socialize. But first, the entertainment.
Right on cue, a thundering sound reverberates around the room, and everyone turns to see the dragons outside in the sky, their fire, gas and shadowflame combining, weaving through each other, making a magickal display of power and beauty.
Pixies and fairies fly around, dancing in sync with the dragon’s display above.
It’s utterly mesmerizing, and I can’t help but reach out to my bonds, enjoying the comfort of them in my chest, knowing that this is going to be our lives forever.
At the head of the aerial formation flies Vasari, glorious in her purple splendour, sparkling in the setting sun—no wonder she wanted me to scrub her scales clean.
She’s absolutely stunning. Although she pretends not to want to be stared at by hundreds of fae, Vasari looks truly happy, and she wears her royal title of Dragon Queen with pride, especially now that the dragons are free to come back to Phixmery and begin bonding with riders again.
After I assimilated the Stone and its brainwashing was nullified, all beings held mentally captive returned to normal, and dragons all across the realm and of every color were united under their true ruler for the first time in decades.
Among the ones flying here, I even see Katar, the white dragon of Aemon’s father, who was finally able to rejoin his rider after we found and released him and others from a dragon prison below Craven’s castle after the war was over.
He was kept alive so that his rider could be used eventually, once Craven won. Thankfully that never happened.