Fire of Stars and Dragons (24 page)

“I remain true to my destiny, just as I always will, Corrin. It is not a matter with which you must concern yourself.” His matter-of-fact tone leaves no room for questions or arguments. “I believe the greater concern of the moment is the situation with Lady Hayden. Perhaps it is time you consider another woman in which to invest your interests.” He turns his attention to the Sky Book tablet in his hand. “Last night, I compiled a file of potential women, all eligible high-society humans who attended the gala. You should take a moment to review. I’m sending it now.”

Not remotely interested, I pick up my tablet, skimming through the file full of photos, brief biographical information, ancestry, and financial summaries. “None of these are suitable.” Tossing my Sky Book aside, I stand, slamming my hands on the walnut desk, glaring down at my dragon. “I want Cait Hayden, and I
will
have her.”

Frowning, he looks down at my hands, firmly planted on the desktop. “I believe with absolute certainty you will have Jennifer order you a new desk.” Glancing at the two handprints smashed into the wood surface, cracks spreading out from them, I pull away and walk to the windows, turning my back on him. “Otherwise, I cannot tell you what the future holds, Corrin. You have refused to heed my advice, or anyone else’s from the onset of this situation, and thus you pay the price. How is it exactly you intend to win her heart at this point?”

“Post security in the hallway, even when I am not home. I want her monitored. All her comings and goings, those of her security, and any additional dragons who may join her. I need to find a moment to catch her alone, to speak with Cait without the influence of others.”

“There are two severe flaws in this logic, I fear. Firstly, Theo is not about to leave his ward unattended at any time. Secondly, he moved her back to her own home last night to improve her security,” he states quite unemotionally, yet I’m well and beyond furious.

Picking up the nearby chair, I toss it clear across my office, crashing it into a bookcase. “You were not going to mention this.” Wounded by his betrayal, fury drives me, and whirling around, I seize the desk, flipping it onto Oliver, though the dragon bats it away as if a mere insect flew in his face, sending it crashing atop both table and sofa, landing leaned against the windows. “Are you lying to me? Are you siding with your brothers?” Enraged, I continue toward him.

He rises to his full towering height, meeting me without hesitation or fear. “Choose to throw a childish temper tantrum if you wish, Corrin, but do not dare think you will cause me to cower, and certainly do
not
believe for one foolish second you will lay a hand on me in anger without suffering due consequences for your actions.”

Stopping, lowering my hands, I do not apologize. He allowed this to come about by not preventing any of it. “What do you suggest we do now?”

“I suggest you do something about this mess. Let me handle the rest.” With a slow, rather condescending shake of his head, Oliver turns away, leaving me alone amidst my own chaos and destruction.

An intrusive knock at the door brings fleeting hope my dragon returns, though I cannot imagine what he might say to improve my mood, leaving me annoyed. “Enter.”

Jennifer surveys the damage, cautious in her steps as she follows my command, joining me in the office, avoiding broken glass and splintered wood littering her path. “Your Majesty, Minister Von Yalfayr wishes to see you. Should I send him to the conference room to wait?”

Elfin warlords care nothing for interior decorating. I find it doubtful my minister of defense concerns himself with the appearance of my office. “No. Send him in.”

He wastes no time in polite formalities or any other such customs believed nonsense among his kind, walking right past my secretary upon hearing my consent, ignoring the wreck of furniture scattered across the room. “Treason stirs restless in your kingdom, Sire.”

With youthful elfin features and ghastly pale complexion, he’s lithe in stature, the crown of his head reaching my chin—a deceptive, lethal warrior. Drastic contrast is an inherent elfin trait: frail in appearance yet combative in nature, even their hair and eyes contrast. Every one bears stark white hair and coal black irises, or raven locks with iridescent silver eyes.

Z Von Yalfayr falls into the latter category, his regal features worn in stony expressions, icy eyes calculating the potential of any enemy, lengthy hair fine as spun silk, braided and cinched by a golden band for every battle won in his lifetime. Z wears nineteen.

I heed his warnings without question.

“Worsening troubles in the Celtic Territory?” Concern grows daily regarding civil uprisings my uncle traveled to take into hand on my behalf.

“Far closer to home. Do you not consider it quite worrisome seeing dragons converging around the girl? Given Dante is in the middle of them, I myself see considerable reason to plot a course of action, Sire.” He stares at me, unmoving, impatient, expectant.

“You believe she is a threat? She is human, as you said yourself. A girl. What could she possibly do?”

“Cynical as I am regarding the ancient Oracle tales, prophecies, and destinies, yours came to be, lending to the possibility others may hold some measure of truth to them.”

I reach for the GoSky in my pocket, wanting to call Oliver into this meeting, then stopping short. “Dragon tears. When I danced with her last night, she had the scent of dragon tears in her blood. It was unmistakable.”

“Your Highness, if Lady Hayden is the one they have waited for and you allow the change to take effect, I fear you sign your own death warrant. Eternals are not beholden to your laws.” Lowering his voice, gesturing toward the door, Z’s expression becomes sterner, if such a thing is possible. “I warned you. The dragons cannot be trusted. Such grandiose destinies, passing judgment on the souls of lesser beings, determining if we deserve to live or die, they believe themselves far above the rest of us. Need I remind you their destruction of my kind during the War of Gudqi Naevas?”

Oliver tells a different tale of history, of a day of reckoning declared by the Goddess, when the elves were struck down for waging war against the peaceful Fae, raping and pillaging, and laying siege to their towns. But Z can tell the horrors of entire legacies lost; fathers, sons, grandsons, felled by dragons, judging their souls too dark to walk the earth.

“What would you have me do? I cannot very well kill Dante, nor can I march into a den of dragons and lay a hand upon Cait, expecting to survive the encounter.” I also cannot tell my defense minister I do not know if I could harm Cait, regardless of who he believes she may be. “If I can gain her trust, win her heart, then everything she brings will fall under my power. Were she to marry me, the dragons would fall in line without question, would they not?”

“Their honor requires it, but can you accomplish such a task? Do consider that your own dragon may know her destiny and may be plotting against you, Sire. I must inform you, not even Oliver can be trusted with your life. To speak quite frankly, I may be the only ally you hold. Bearing that in mind, I have already placed several of my own most trusted men on the King’s Guard. Given the dangers these dragons pose to you, I believe it is imperative. Elfin warriors will not hesitate to kill dragons.”

*Theo*

“Does it matter if I’m drinking it from a glass or from this bottle as long as I’m staying hydrated, Cait? I believe that is the point.” At times, I think she simply enjoys arguing with me for the sake of arguing.

“But this looks nicer.” Ever insistent, she pushes the crystal glass closer to me on the counter, trying to grab the bottle away. Quite unfortunately for her, she’s rather vertically challenged, and once I hold it over my head, she cannot reach it. Not without a ladder.

“This is engraved stainless steel. See how elegantly it bears my name in that calligraphy font? Oh, you probably can’t see from all the way down there.” I continue teasing her, and she punches me in the side. She’s feisty, and mean when she wants to be. “Did you know humans never could come to an agreement on laws banning the use of single consumption bottles? It was a side-effect of our presence becoming public, certain groups in the supernatural community influencing the world and leading to the stricter environmental protection legislation in the mid-twenty-first century.”

“You know too many completely pointless and random facts, Theo.”

“He’s full of them,” Claaron remarks, taking a seat at Cait’s kitchen island. “What is he doing to annoy you now, besides simply being himself?”

Before I can remark on his unnecessary commentary, an unforgiving force demands the bottle from my hand, the prickling of electricity surging along the nerves in my arm. “Caitriona, did you want this?” Dante kindly hands her the singular object of her desire for the past fifteen minutes or longer, careful not to make physical contact.

Triumphant grin on her face, she pours the water out of it into the glass. “Thank you, Dante.” Cait maintains her polite manners, though I know she is unsure how to handle matters with him after last night.

“You are always welcome.” My old friend casts a glance over my face and sets the bottle of wine in his hand on the island. “Nothing you could do would ever prevent me from choosing to look after your best interests, Caitriona. I will always be here when you need me.” He turns away, focusing on the wine bottle instead of her… or us. “I will never hurt you.” Brushing a finger across the cork, it pops out, as if of its own volition. “Where do you keep your wine glasses?”

“In the cabinet behind this big dragon here,” she states, gesturing to me. “If you get one the same way you got this for me, I’m betting you’ll smack him in the head with the door. Is that how we’re going to play this?” A warning to proceed with caution laces her tone.

Dante returns his attention to Cait, meeting her eyes, Claaron smirking behind him. I can only hope he keeps his mouth shut. As much patience as I have for him, I do not believe this is the best situation in which to agitate a demigod, particularly not the Goddess’ son. “No, Caitriona. We are not going to
play
at all. I care not for games, but I care deeply for you. Do I wish you chose me? Of course. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”

“But she didn’t,” Claaron adds to the conversation, and I retrieve a glass from the cabinet, handing it to Dante as a means of distraction, glaring at my brother.

“Thank you, Theo.” I nod politely, deciding it is perhaps best to leave this conversation between them. Cait is more than capable of holding her own. “No. She did not. However, given her decision is to marry my oldest and most respected friend, I hold no ill will toward such a union. Caitriona, you shall always fall under my protection as firmly as any dragon’s. Do not forget the ring you wear. Use it.”

She takes my hand, moving closer to me. “So, how did you know already?” We agreed on speaking with him together when he arrived today.

Turning to fill the wine glass, giving a questioning look to Claaron, silently daring the dragon to tangle with him, Dante says nothing for a few minutes. “I asked if you wanted to be with me, if you believed you would find happiness in such a life, and you told me you could. You did not say that it was what you
wanted
.”

“Well… I couldn’t lie to you.” My Cait is quite honest in her feelings, though often protective of others. Dante nods, and I can imagine the difficulty of his position, one I felt myself in just yesterday, sure she would remain with him. “I hope Corrin takes this…”

“No.” His command emphatic, Dante faces her, eyes blazing, and I pull her to me, despite knowing the absolute truth in his declaration to protect her, to never to harm Cait. “You must not tell him anything. This stays amongst us,” gesturing to those of us in the kitchen, “and the dragons sworn loyal to you. Caitriona, until the change taking place within you completes, you are in grave danger at all times. Should Corrin discover you made your final decision, I fear such danger increases tenfold, conservatively speaking.”

Claaron and I exchange a glance of agreement, though I fear she will argue this point as she does most everything else, but further discussion halts with Liam and Clifford’s entrance. “New security cameras are installed,” Liam announces.

“All cameras are now linked to your specific Sky Book G3KIDs and accessible with your individual sixty-four character passcodes and dual biometric authentication. This particular system has a new digital feed encryption code I specifically redesigned to strengthen our Virtual Fortress Network’s firewalls and the impenetrable nature of the VFN’s redundancies.” Clifford beams with pride at his latest accomplishment in technological security measures. “Anyone who gets through it would have to be better at computer hacking than I am.”

Cait snorts in laughter, coughing as she manages to swallow a mouthful of cranberry juice. “I feel like Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, only with dragons. Crazy Dragon, Pervy Dragon, Geeky Dragon, Scary Dragon…” she explains, pointing out each of us. Liam earned ‘Scary Dragon’ after coming around a corner this morning and nearly giving her a heart attack because she didn’t expect him in the apartment, though she does swear he wears the most menacing expressions.

“Now I can’t wait to meet Jai to see where he fits into this crew. And eventually Snobby Dragon joins in the fun.”

That earns a round of laughter, and Claaron can’t help himself. “I’m sure Oliver will at least appreciate being upgraded from you calling him a psycho.”

“True. He should consider himself lucky.” She looks around at the lot of us, taking up the majority of her rather spacious kitchen. “What am I supposed to do with all of you? I mean, there’s been all this ‘pledging loyalty’ and whatever, but who’s in charge of this entourage?”

“As you are
my
ward, I am in command of all matters regarding your safety and security. Decisions on ranking among your guard, details in organizing your travel and such, and anything pertaining to your protection fall to me. You may make preferences known to me in these matters, and if they are suitable, I will accommodate. Those who you favor may hold positions nearer to you if their presence is preferable over another’s.”