Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“Because of course you do,” I deadpanned.
He grinned, irises gleaming with genuine enthusiasm. “You’re walking me through a living museum. This is a scholar’s dream.”
A quiet satisfaction warmed me. I knew how much he’d enjoy the festival. And that I was learning his moods so surely… well, that was tomorrow’s problem. I hated how much I liked his smile. I hated more how each time he flashed it my direction, the dragon inside me writhed.
Test him. He’s marked. If he survives, he’s mine. If he doesn’t, he was never yours.
It was the most the dragon had spoken in eons, and I had to grit my teeth against the pictures painted. One steeped in dreams come true, the other a certain nightmare.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a boy struggling to wrangle a runaway goat that had wandered into the edge of the festival prep. His little arms flailed as the goat gleefully knocked over a table, scattering bowls of corn, oats and barley.
“Excuse me,” I murmured before striding over.
The goat sensed my approach and went still mid-prance, spitting out a mouthful of grains. I crouched beside the boy and brushed a lock of hair from his brow.
“Your will must be stronger than the animal’s,” I told him gently. “But next time, maybe don’t walk him past a buffet of his favorite snacks. Hungry goats are a menace.”
The boy giggled, cheeks red. “Ja, my queen.”
I helped him to his feet and handed him the goat’s leash. As he offered an adorable salute, a man I recognized joined us, and both the boy and I grinned wide.
“Hello, Franz,” I greeted. Franz had served as my partner in training. We’d risen in the ranks together and always had each other’s backs. When I’d taken over as sovereign, I’d given him the job of his choice. He’d chosen Warden of the Ashkeepers, commanding our scribes and protecting our Library of Legends. “I’m so glad you’re here.” He and Taron should meet.
“I’m glad to be here as well,” Franz said with a warm smile. We embraced as long, lost friends, and when we parted, I motioned Taron over.
“Guess what?” the boy exclaimed, tugging on Franz’s shirt. “I’m making my will stronger than Billy’s.”
“That’s good.” Franz ruffled his hair. “Go on. Your mother is waiting.”
The boy skipped off, leading the goat away.
“He’s yours?” I asked, surprised. I hadn’t known Franz had wed.
A nod. “His mother is my firebrand. I found her only eight months ago,” he explained.
As the professor crossed the distance, Franz stiffened. “He’s human.”
“He is,” I confirmed. “And he’s mine. Off-limits.” I flinched as soon as the words registered, but I didn’t snatch them back.
“Is there a problem?” Taron asked, glancing between us.
Franz worked his jaw and frowned down at me. “His kind are a weakness we can’t afford.”
The professor arched a brow, saying calmly, “I’m happy to prove my strength, right here, right now.”
Okay, so, this introduction wasn’t going well. “The word of a queen is proof enough. Taron is strong,” I announced. “Now then. Franz, this is Taron. Taron, this is Franz. He guards our realm’s most precious tomes.”
I expected interest to light Taron’s features. Instead, he held the warden’s stare, unwilling to back down.
Flames flickered over the other man’s flesh, instinct screaming for dominance.
Enough. I stepped between them and pushed them apart. “Go,” I commanded Franz.
He hesitated a moment before nodding stiffly and striding off.
Taron watched him go before facing me. “I forget sometimes,” he said quietly, “that you’re not only a weapon. You’re a leader.”
“Don’t get used to my softer side,” I muttered, suddenly uncomfortable. “She bites.” And burns.
Torch him. Torch him now.
The dragon clawed at my insides until testing Taron in my flames wasn’t a want but a desperate need. My palms itched, my throat charred, and I had to clench my fists to keep from incinerating one of his fingers to relieve the pressure.
“Come on. There’s one more festival experience you shouldn’t miss.” The Hearthfire Ring acted as a summoning finger as powerful as the Chains of O, drawing me closer.
The slow, vibrant rhythm of haunting music now thrummed like a steady march. Dancers formed two concentric circles around a pit of fire, moving in time with the pace set by the drummers. Children darted in between the lines with sparkling, shimmering ribbons. Elders swayed outside the circle, their movements a testament to centuries of living, battling and loving.
Cheers rang out from the dancers as we approached.
Taron observed them for a while, then leaned his head toward mine. “This is more than a simple dance.”
I nodded. “Ja, when we left the human world and came to this realm, we had to start fresh. I’d just killed my father, and confusion was rampant. But as we settled around the fire for warmth, someone brought out a drum. The Hearthfire Ring came about naturally. The circles represent unity. The flame is what binds us. To dance the Ring is to promise to always remember we are bound.”