Page 2 of Dragons' Future

I hold my hands out toward Lee. “Hello.”

Lee's freckled face shifts toward me, relief flashing over her features. Then she sees it. Her gaze widens, a choked scream escaping her lips. Right.

I step back but let the wind whip the hood from my face.

“You…” Lee’s words catch in her throat. She leans away from me. Toward Quinton. The one who has a blade at her neck.

I freeze, my scales pressing tightly against my skin as if trying to disappear. I… Well, I hadn’t expected that. Hurt prickles my chest. I run my fingers over the tops of my pointed ears, the ones that I thought were beautiful. Maybe I was wrong about that. Wrong about the reception I’d get.

“It’s still me,” I tell Lee.

She swallows.

Darren turns to face me slowly. His back straightens as he takes me in, his eyes meeting mine for a long heartbeat. Then, with no warning, Darren drops to one knee in the snow.

"My queen." He says, his voice ringing strong and clear as his head bows, one palm pressing flat into the cold earth.

I jerk. “What?”

"My queen." Darren’s pack brother, Rand, a beautiful male with long chestnut hair and dark eyes, drops to one knee in the snow. Only a heartbeat passes before the third dragon does the same.

"My queen."

What in the ever loving stars? "You aren’t… I’m not." I don't know where to start with this. "I'm not anyone's queen."

There is a hand on my shoulder as Cyril comes to stand beside me. Hauck comes up on the other side. Tavias stays where he is, positioned between me and Sethis, but I feel his approval trickling through our bond. "Technically, you are," Cyril murmurs into my ear. "You are the only dame alive. You are a queen by definition."

“That’s not how definitions work. I’m as much a dragon queen as you are a human princess.”

Darren’s lips press together. Despite still being down on one knee with his head bowed, I can tell he is fighting a laugh. Bloody dragons and their bloody hearing. Not their, I correct myself with a swallowed groan, our.

"How about you all stand and we talk about all this like intelligent beings?” I say.

No one moves. Likely because Quinton still has his sword out and is holding onto Lee.

"Oh for star’s sake, Quinton.”

"They are easier to kill kneeling.” He says. He’s serious. He is bloody serious.

"You aren't killing my friend or her pack."

He raises a brow.

I twist toward my pack males. Anger, primal and ancient rises inside me, spilling into my veins. I’ve had enough death. Enough playing to the tune the priests have set for us. With my memories newly woken, I can feel the burn of my mother’s sacrifice scorching my soul. She gave up everything to give me a chance. To give the dragons a chance. And we aren’t going to start this day by doing the priests’ bidding for them.

“You will not kill them.” The words come from my throat, but they are filled with an immortal’s strength. Above us, thunder cracks amidst the rumbling hail and lightning crashes over the gray sky. "We came to the trials to hold the throne. To protect Massa’eve and the human lands. Killing allies is not how we get there.”

Tavias walks to me. Magic crackles over his scales and skin, just as—I realize with a shock—it does over mine.

“We will not kill allies, wildcat,” he says. Unlike my shouting, his voice is calm and confident. A general on a battlefield. “If they truly are allies. If their words and salutes aren’t a deception.” He turns toward Darren. “How about it, Darren of Gwayn? Will you swear to your intentions?”

“I will,” Darren says without hesitation. Or surprise.

Tavias walks to him, extending his sword toward Darren's throat.

Darren does not flinch. Instead, he runs his palm over the edge of the sharp blade, and lets his blood drip onto the wet snow. "I swear by blood that I mean no harm to you, your pack or your mate, Prince Tavias,” Darren says.

Tavias nods and withdraws his sword.

---