Page 50 of The Fae King's Labyrinth

The dragon’s nostrils flared, blowing curls of smoke in Azulin’s face.

I dared not lift my head a second time, standing as I was behind Azulin’s left shoulder. My eyes and lungs burned in the smoky heat of the dragon’s breath. Azulin didn’t even cough as he stared the larger male down coolly. “Would you care to take a seat and discuss this like civilized beings?”

“The human woman? Surely she cannot claim the same as you.”

“She is my mate. Where I go, she goes. You should know what that means since you have a mate yourself.” Azulin motioned toward the medallion hanging from the dragon’s neck.

Ghost cleared his throat. “Now that we have established that we all have a right to be in this conversation, you best get to the point. What news do you bring, fire breather?”

The dragon swung around and huffed at Ghost. “I am not satisfied, but it appears I am overruled, seeing as he is supposedly your clutch mate by the ancient bindings.” He stalked to another position so he could face us all. “Now that the old king, Firebeater of Azuz, has died, his successor, Kloutraker of Skyward, is summoning all dragons to the homeland to make an accounting of themselves before him. As sole remaining heir of the Dawnstriker bloodline, those sworn to the draconic throne since time immemorial, you have a duty to your king.”

“He is not my king,” Ghost responded.

“But Kloutraker claimed the throne and holds it uncontested. You owe him loyalty.”

Ghost glared at the dragon. “I owe him nothing.”

“He is king of the dragons.” The dragon’s voice rose in volume.

“Not my king,” Ghost said again. “I owe him nothing, just like I owed Firebeater nothing. The dragons betrayed me and turned their backs on me before I was born. Firebeater falsely convicted my father of treason shortly after I was conceived. Then he ordered my mother hunted down and executed in hopes of wiping out my line. I survived only because my mother had the foresight to foster me before the dragon hunt reached its inevitable culmination with her death. I was told they held a vast celebration in the dragon hall and drank to my mother’s downfall for three nights after she perished, the last of the pureblooded females. No! I hold no dragon as my king.”

As Ghost spoke, the stranger dragon deflated slightly. He didn’t deny the words. In the silence following the grim tale, he responded, “Those years are a blemish upon us, stripling. Still, dragons belong with dragons.”

“Nay,” Ghost replied sharply. “Family belongs with family. My king is family. And above all, I trust him.”

“Do you deny your dragonhood?”

Ghost shook his head. “I am a dragon. I do not deny that. However, being a dragon does not mean I cannot call a fae or a shifter family. That is my choice. I refuse to be dictated to by a dragon I neither know nor trust.”

The dragon’s golden eyes studied Ghost for a long moment, as though debating the best way to sway him. Then he suddenly turned away. “You’re as stubborn as your father before you. Implacable when determined.”

“I am when I know I am right,” Ghost responded.

“Maker have mercy, you are far more principled than I.” The dragon stalked to the door. “I will see that Kloutraker receives your response. Do not be surprised if repercussions result.” He glanced back at Azulin. “I hope you are prepared to defend the traitor in your midst, fae king.”

“To the death,” Azulin answered without hesitation.

The dragon blew a great cloud of smoke, completely filling the room, before he turned and stalked out.

∞∞∞

Azulin

Four days later, I was beginning to question my sanity. I couldn’t sleep. The curse didn’t pull me back into the labyrinth. Instead,it clawed at me relentlessly, making my bones ache, driving headaches through my skull, and draining all my focus and concentration. On top of that, my list of tasks kept growing, and my companion kept distracting me.

Not that Calypso wasn’t a pleasant companion. She was. I enjoyed her company. Easily contented, she spent hours reading in my study while I worked. She never complained about the long hours I kept, the meals caught on the run as I strode between meetings, or my occasional requests that she attend certain meetings in her feline form to avoid dealing with my visitors’ sensitivity to humans.

But as wonderfully understanding as she was, I began to wonder if she was too charming and accommodating. Especially when I settled in my office to catch up on the never-ending avalanche of paperwork and administrative tasks. Between the moment I sat down and my fifth signature, four different servants filed past my desk to speak with her.

Soren glared at each one, apparently intent they should know of his great displeasure at their invasion of my privacy. To a one, the servants ignored him—and me, for that matter.

“My lady, the cook wishes to have your opinion on the lunch menu.” A very young fairy—her fifth visitor—offered Calypso a thick paper card covered in the cook’s scrawl.

“Would your cat prefer roast chicken or tuna today?” a brownie asked a few moments later. Someone had started a rumor that the cat was hers and not mine, though for obvious reasons the rumor made no sense. She and the cat were never observed together. Yet it was always seen with me.

I rolled my eyes as I bent over a purchase contract for cloth. However, the paper beneath my pen reminded me of something.

“Lady Anon?” I turned to find the brownie and fairy bowing to Calypso as they backed away toward the door.

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