Chapter Three
BENEDICT
The echo of Nerissa’s claim clung to every breath of air, the crowd watching anxiously.
The wind picked up, grains of sand kicking up around the body and almost giving the illusion it was still alive.
The hard part was supposed to be over. The war was won, we’d reclaimed our homeland, and our only concerns were supposed to be bringing new drakens into the world and making pergainsa wine.
We were not supposed to be dealing with strange, dead drakens and even stranger witches with dark ships.
Emotions poured through me like a maelstrom.
I wanted the dead draken buried and the threat to my unborn child and mate dealt with.
I worried this disturbance would tip the delicate balance we’d built here.
Even more worrisome—what if Wren was right, and there were more drakens out there?
Would they want to take over the island? Would there be more fighting? More war?
We needed more draken blood. It would be selfish and foolish to deny anyone, especially females.
Our own island was host to several draken-witch hybrid children, all strong draklings growing up more in touch with their magick, but we didn’t know the long-term effects of breeding outside of our race.
Our child with Wren would be the first pure-blooded draken born this generation.
Or so I’d thought.
And that was the problem. Just when I thought I had a handle on things, my reality was blown apart.
Bad, bad king. Not even knowing other drakens were alive. What would Father think?
The crowd shifted restlessly, the scent of unease hanging as high as the sun overhead.
“If you’re about to ask how a witch has a draken son, I swear I’ll box your ears,” Wren warned me, her small body practically vibrating with tension.
I closed my eyes, willing myself to be calm despite the inappropriate smirk that threatened to twitch my lips. If I was calm, Wren would be calm. We had to keep things under control for the sake of her and the baby.
“Your draken son?” I asked the bloodwitch instead, raising an eyebrow.
Her gaze snapped to mine. “Careful, King. You speak as though that were a sin.”
“Look around,” I grit out, frustrated.
Her eyes flicked to the watching crowd, gaze softening as it landed on the half-draken children, clutching their parents’ hands.
“It is a question,” I said evenly. “There were no other drakens left after the war. We would have known if—”
“If your sight reached beyond your own borders?” she interrupted sharply. “If your precious wards didn’t choke the air so tight that nothing could breathe under them?”
There was a tense silence, filled only by the sound of waves softly crashing over the beach. A gull cried overhead.
My jaw clenched. I unclenched it so I could respond. “The wards keep the island safe. And they weren’t even renewed until just recently. The island was barren and unprotected all that time in-between!”
Ronan tapped his chin with a claw. “Perhaps your son felt the urge. Domik and I studied it. As drakens mature, they feel a need to explore to find a mate. We figured it was the reason most of us went mad in the mountains, unable to leave.”
Nerissa sniffed, kicking up sand. “The wards keep you blind. You don’t think it’s possible to have missed more drakens? How are any of them to even find you?”
Her words cracked through me before I could block them.
Wren stiffened beside me. My own guilt bubbled in my veins like a festering wound.
I was trying to protect who I had left of my people, but I’d also shut out anyone left.
I did that the first time with the mountain men. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson.
Always doomed to make the wrong choices. What would Father think of you?
My hand folded into a fist.
Keep it together.
“Start from the beginning,” Ronan said softly, his scholar’s tone calm enough to coax our attention back to the subject at hand. “You said Anar was your son. Tell us how. You are not a draken, obviously.”
Nerissa’s eyes glistened, but not with weakness.
“I found my mate in chains,” she said, “in a slaver’s pit off the coast of the shattered isles.
He was barely more than a beast when I found him—crazed, half-starved, knowing only blood and violence.
My father was keeping him like a chained dog, his attack dog.
It’s how he kept control over his pirate company and the seas. ”
Wren gasped quietly, grabbing my hand. I already knew what she was thinking.
Descendants of survivors of Lyoness. It had to be!
Nerissa continued, “I didn’t know what he was at first. I just knew he wasn’t meant to live like that.
To make a rather long story short, I freed him and took over my father’s company.
The soldiers came and burned what was left.
Once they were gone, the bloodwitches helped us reclaim the island, and we warded it up.
” Her chin lifted, proud and unrepentant.
“Not unlike you. Drakens apparently have a thing for wards.”
Ronan blinked. “You used bloodmagick to free him?”
“No,” she said. “I didn’t know I was a witch until I stumbled into my own coven by accident. They reclaimed me and helped us.” She eyed us all warily. “You are not the only ones scattered and doing their best to survive.”
Wren let go of my hand, instead turning to face Nerissa. “How many children do you have?”
The witch gave her a warm smile. “Three.” It turned sad as she gazed on the body, the jewels in her hair catching bits of sunlight as they chimed together. My own bloodmagick sang near her, so I believed her claim of being a bloodwitch. “Now just two, living.”
“Your father was human?” I asked slowly.
She shrugged. “As human as greed allows.”
“And your mother?”
Her expression hardened. “A bloodwitch. A tryst and deal made with a pirate king who didn’t know the difference between a seawitch and bloodwitch. He wanted a daughter to control the waves and boost his power.”
Meruse snorted.
Kieran’s eyes narrowed. “So you took his ship.”
“After I slit his throat. Tried to sell me to a rival pirate to settle a score. I protested.”
The crowd went quiet. My drakens reassessed this bloodwitch, quietly impressed. Even Meruse, who had seen every horror the sea could offer, tilted her head in interest.
Nerissa didn’t seem to care, waving a hand dismissively. “Enough of the past. I came after my son. The dragon blood in him burned hot, and the magick I taught him only made it worse. He was restless. The wards around our island made him feel caged.”
“What island?” Wren asked, leaning forward.
“South of here,” Nerissa said. “Hidden from men and magicks alike. Originally built out of shipwrecks and bones, it once housed pirates but now my family calls it home. The bloodwitches call it home now, too. Not unlike all of this,” she muttered to herself.
She kicked at the ground with her boot, and the wards flared bright red for a moment in a spiderweb pattern emanating out from where she’d struck the ground.
She frowned. “When did you lay these?”
“How many drakens are on your island?” I asked, unable to help myself.”
“Why?” she fired back.
Mutters broke out behind me.
Other drakens.
My pulse raced at the possibility.
“Your son wanted to leave?” Kieran said gently.
Nerissa withdrew a piece of crumpled parchment from her pocket.
“It was among my son’s things. It says, ‘Meet me beyond Aldur’s wall. The others wait.’ ”
Ronan reached for the parchment, and Nerissa let him study it. Wren leaned forward, trying to see.
“ ‘The others,’ ” I repeated, my voice a blade. “Who? No one from Lyoness sent that.”
“I don’t know,” Nerissa snapped. “Anar never finished the journey to find out, obviously.”
Kieran leaned in, brow furrowed. “Could it be yet another enclave of drakens? Surely not this close to us. Or maybe it was Thad?”
My heart dropped into my stomach. Was I such a worthless king that were all these surviving drakens and I never knew?
“No, surely not,” I whispered.
Unimaginable.
Wren’s expression flickered between curiosity and worry. “Or it’s a trap.”
My wings shifted, restless. I could think of another draken relatively nearby who wanted nothing to do with us or Lyoness.
“No,” I grumbled. “I bet it’s Thad.”
Wren shook her head.
“Thad is good. You know this. He took all the demons out of Dorea and back over the mountains,” she argued.
“And one of my unmated females with him,” I grumbled.
Wren’s wings flared, flashing her fangs at me.
“Xana could not mate. She didn’t want to mate.”
“Who else would be stirring trouble out west?” I argued. “He’s been beyond the wall for months: no word, no trace. Now a note appears, mentioning Aldur, and a draken dies chasing it.” My voice rose. “He’s recruiting survivors. Gathering power.”
“You don’t know that,” Wren said weakly. “Thad isn’t the villain every rumor paints him to be. And besides, there are apparently drakens just running around south of here! Who knows how many there truly are?”
The words hit harder than I expected, every insecurity hitting me at once.
Bad king. Awful leader. Going to be an even worse father.
The wards shuddered, sensing our discord. Blue light rippled along the beams, crackling like distant thunder. My throat tightened. I needed to get it together in front of so many people.
Kieran moved quickly, stepping between us. “Enough.” His voice held steel and something gentler beneath. “The baby.”
Magick snapped like a cord pulled too tight between us. I had to focus.
“If he wanted to leave, why didn’t you stop him?” I questioned Nerissa.
She laughed bitterly. “You’ve never had a child, have you?”
That stung, but she wasn’t wrong.
“No,” I said, shooting Wren’s growing belly a possessive look. “Not yet.”
Nerissa scoffed. “Then let me tell you, King Benedict. Children don’t ask permission to chase the wind. They only ask forgiveness after it breaks them and you’re left picking up the pieces.”
Her voice cracked on the last word.