Chapter 23
Draxxinar
TITUS
The first light of dawn peeked over the mountains, and right on cue, Delilah met me on the main platform outside the castle doors. Thank the Guardians my assistant managed to contact the royal thread master in the middle of the night, because he made a new riding outfit for Delilah by morning.
It was the most repulsive, unflattering garment I had ever seen— and I couldn’t be more pleased.
The pants were fitted like deep brown leather leggings, but I didn’t want to stare at her ass all day, so I insisted on a matching knee-length skirt over the top. Her shirt was white, high-necked, and long-sleeved, and the entire bodice puffed out, giving no indication of her shape.
It took everything in me not to laugh at her scowling face as she came closer. Then I noticed the dark circles under her eyes. She looked awful—exhausted—and suddenly my overly modest outfit wasn’t so funny anymore.
“What the fuck am I wearing, Titus?” she scathed.
I inhaled slowly and looked at her through my own eyes one last time, because I knew I would not be allowed that luxury again.
The High Lord did not bleed. He did not ache.
He did not care. So I pulled the mask into place, sealing the fracture she had carved into me, and sharpened my voice into something that would keep her at a distance. Cruelty was safer than the truth.
“You requested pants, remember? So, I think what you meant to say was thank you,” I snapped back.
I sighed internally. This was going to be a long day.
“Yes, thank you, Your Excellency, for making me look like a cupcake. I do not deserve your generosity,” she said, dripping with sarcasm, and bent at the waist in an exaggerated bow.
“Better,” I replied with a contemplative grin. Then, because I couldn’t help myself, I added, “You look like shit. Not the clothes— your face. Did you not sleep well?”
I tried to tread lightly. I didn’t want to give her any indication that I practically stalked her all night through fire-gazing.
She gasped like she’d never been so insulted. Good. The mask was working.
“If you must know, no, I did not sleep well. So do please excuse my hideous human face, Your Majesty,” she replied with the same sarcastic disdain.
As much as I hated being mean to her, I couldn’t deny how entertaining it was to fuck with her. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but she was extra fiery today and I fucking loved it.
“Does your room not meet your standards, human?” I asked, keeping it rude—yet I couldn’t fully hide the trace of sincerity that slipped through. It didn’t go unnoticed.
She cocked a brow and folded her arms like she was about to serve me another helping of her scorching, hot sarcasm, but then it was almost like she disarmed. She turned away.
Fuck. There actually was something wrong with her room, and she definitely wasn’t going to tell me.
I needed a way to remedy it without taking off the mask, so I continued.
“Well, I can’t have you looking like that. You are to be my mate— no matter how temporary. I need you to keep up your appearance or I’ll be embarrassed to be seen with you. So if there’s something preventing you from sleeping, human, it’s best for both of us if you tell me.”
She looked at me like I’d just insulted the Guardians themselves.
I was pleased my cruelty was working. By the end of this trip, she was going to despise me.
A small part of me stung at the thought.
Then she turned her back fully, arms still crossed. She glanced over her shoulder and said simply, “the lights.”
I blinked, taken aback and confused. “Have you not figured out how to turn them off? You just say off. Or is that too difficult for your inferior, human brain?”
“It’s not the light,” she said. “It’s the sound. All those fireflies trapped in those glass balls—it sounds like they’re screaming for help.”
She was clearly ignoring my offensive remarks now.
The firefly lights were my father’s doing. I always thought they were ugly. My mother hated them too. All this time, I’d assumed she hated them simply because they were ugly—but now I wondered if she heard what Delilah could hear.
If recognizing another trapped being resonated with her somehow.
My chest tightened. My mother, in many ways, had been a prisoner.
Suddenly I wasn’t in the mood to play this game. “Let’s get going,” I commanded coldly.
We approached Draxxinar, who was still struggling to get saddled by the keepers.
“Can I at least know where we’re going, and why?” Delilah asked. No sarcasm this time—just a trace of worry. It was both satisfying and painful to realize she didn’t feel safe with me.
“We’re flying to the Kingdom of Terrain,” I said. “Then we’re hiking to the enchanted mines. We need to find three specific crystals that will remedy a livestock shortage.”
She arched a brow. “That’s it? That’s the big emergency? The reason we’re delaying the retrieval of the dagger is because of a shortage of cows?”
The sarcasm returned in full force. Good.
“There are over ten thousand dragons in my army, we’ve bred more than the land can sustain,” I said flatly. “And the moment we stop feeding them enough, guess who they’ll eat first? So yes—this is an emergency. We have enough for a week at best before we’re forced to start rationing.”
I gestured vaguely toward the mountains. “The crystals multiply an object thousands of times before their power burns out. One goat becomes a herd by sundown. We need one for each of the remaining livestock towns.”
“Remaining?” Her expression shifted. “Was one attacked that night we were… together?”
She tried to conceal her discomfort, but I immediately scented her faint arousal from the memory.
Focus.
“Yes,” I said. “Our largest supplier. All livestock and slaves disappeared while the guards and fae in charge were slaughtered. We suspect the Kingdom of Night.”
Her gaze snapped to mine. “Your kingdom has slaves?” “Yes,” I answered plainly. “The most in all Nevaehun.”
And then the energy between us turned strange. She looked at me like she was seeing me for the first time—for the monster I was. Her arctic blue eyes dug into my soul.
Unease crawled up my spine. “What of it?” I demanded.
She didn’t speak for several long moments. I wished I could read her mind.
Finally, quietly, she spoke.
“I just don’t think anyone should be held against their will.”
My mother’s face flashed through my mind again, and I was immediately done with this conversation. Feelings were a waste of time. Feelings equaled weakness and I have had enough feelings for one day.
“It’s the way it has always been,” I said. —commanding, definitive—so she’d know the discussion was over. I was not expecting her to speak nor what she said next.
“Then your way has always been wrong,” she declared, definitive, brave, bold, and beautiful.
Fuck. I didn’t know how to respond, so I ignored it, swallowing the guilt. Because the worst part was that some traitorous part of me feared she might be right. And if she was, then maybe I was not the ruler I had always believed myself to be.
I had my dragon keepers prepare Draxxinar for our flight.
When I learned of the mortal’s existence, I took the liberty of having a double saddle made, because I only flew alone—and I knew one way or another she would become my mate.
The keepers coaxed my disobedient beast to hold still while they struggled to secure the new saddle. It was obvious Draxxinar was in a mood today.
One keeper approached me. I was grateful for the interruption; his presence buffered the awkwardness between my future mate and me.
“My Lord,” he began shakily, “my apologies. The double saddle you requested—it doesn’t seem to fit Draxxinar.”
I held my flames back as best I could. “I don’t understand.
Were his measurements off?”
“No, My Lord. I checked the measurements personally three times.” He swallowed. “It seems Draxxinar has been… gaining weight.”
Delilah quietly studied my dragon with an otherworldly gaze.
“Gaining weight?” I repeated, incredulously. “How is that possible? All dragons have a strict diet for optimal health.”
“Well, Lord Titus… it’s not his eating that’s the issue. It’s more a matter of inactivity. He hasn’t been free-flying like normal—he’s been sleeping.” He hesitated. “I had him checked by the royal dragon mender several times. They found nothing wrong.”
“So my dragon—the High Lord’s dragon, the largest dragon that has ever existed—is lazy and getting fat?”
The keeper looked to the ground.
“It would seem so,” he said politely, “…yes.”
“Take him back to the keep. I’ll deal with him later.” I pointed at the saddle. “Bring me a different dragon with a double saddle that—” I turned toward my big, lazy beast and yelled “—FITS!”
Draxxinar groaned like he was mocking me.
The keeper winced. “My Lord… there are no dragons left at the castle keep. Aurelius ordered them all to fly to Dragon’s Maw after the SkyGuard presentation for rest and training. We held Draxxinar back for your excursion today.”
Flames rolled off my shoulders. I pinched the bridge of my nose between thumb and forefinger.
“Might I make a suggestion, My Lord?” the keeper asked, hesitant.
I gave him a sardonic nod.
“Your single saddle was constructed when we didn’t know how large Draxxinar would be full-grown,” he said, too optimistic for his own safety.
“It’s an adjustable saddle and still fits.
When I take my grandson flying, I secure him on my lap, and it’s honestly safer than a double saddle.
Your companion seems small enough that it might work. ”
“NO,” we both shouted in unison. The keeper flinched at our outburst.
There was no fucking way I could keep her in my lap for a two-hour ride and not get aroused—but at this point, I didn’t have another
choice. I needed those crystals before the supply chain collapsed and my dragon army started supplementing their hunger with my citizens.
I gave Delilah an exasperated look.
She side-eyed me. “Fine. Let’s get this over with. This shirt is making me itch.”