Page 14 of A Story of Mates and Temptation

“Where is he?” I ask, skipping the verbal sparring match she’s clearly looking for. Her overprotectiveness knows no bounds when it comes to Daegan. She steps aside and I head into the massive hut, which is ten times bigger than mine and much warmer too. It’s sparsely decorated, with tapestries falling off the walls and a fireplace made of greenstone, with a roaring fire within it that makes the room smell like smoke. The fabric hanging off the walls is ripped and faded, showing no discernible picture of what they might have once been. In the centre of the room is a cluster of tables shoved together, and they are smothered with maps, candles holding the edges down and little green stone figures of castles, dragons and people. Daegan is sitting in one of the chairs, wearing green clothes that match the locals, and he looks tired, staring at the map. I look down at my own dark green, long-sleeved tunic, tied with a rope around my waist, and under I have on thin, dark leggings.

“Story.” Daegan notices me, rising to his feet, and the chair scrapes across the stone floor. “How are you feeling?”

“Recovering.” I can’t keep the tense feeling from being around him from appearing. “Thanks to you.” It feels very strange to bethanking him. Calix seems to think the same, judging by the look he gives me.

“Very good. I was worried after you collapsed. Moving on… You”—Daegan points to Calix—“I understand being here at this first fae rider war meeting, considering you two are now representing the Moon Dynasty in this discussion. But you”—he turns to Luna—“I am less sure about being here. Can we trust you? You were a blood slave to the vampyre king.”

“I am part of the Moon Dynasty,” Luna says firmly, defending herself before any of us can. “And with that logic, Story can’t be trusted either. I would wager we hate that royal family more than you do, and we are useful because we know them. We can offer advice on their armies, on their numbers and castles.” She walks in, pointing at the map. “For starters, that castle is gone, and he had a new one built over here.” She moves a castle to the east in the Sun Dynasty lands. “And it is a pleasure home, unguarded mostly.”

Daegan assesses her for a second before nodding. He turns and heads back to his seat, and I finally look at the other man in the room. The man is older, maybe late sixties with grey short hair, wrinkled forehead and a slight hump on his back. A light green cloak covers him, clipped with a silver pendant. The pendant has a symbol I’ve never seen before. A sun and moon with their backs touching, held within a circle. An alliance. Daegan waves a hand, gesturing to him. “This is Leader Roan, the current ruler of this town we’ve found ourselves in. His family has protected this place for generations.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” he says with kind blue eyes, and I return the sentiment. “Lessborn or one of the slightly luckier powerborn?”

“Lessborn blood slave,” I answer. “But that title is in my past. These titles are something I hope we erase if we manage to get this world back from the vampyres. The titles just create a boundary between us all.”

“And they’ll be gone,” Daegan vows to me with utter distaste in his tone, like it can make up for all the history between us. It can’t. But I remember when I told him the first time about the titles and the look on his face. I assumed it was to flatter me, but I actually think he hated the titles as much as every fae outside the mansion. Daegan told me “No fae is less than incredible, including you.” Flattery or not, he was right. He goes and sits at the back of the table, and we all take random seats.

“I’ve mapped out everything I can,” Roan begins, “from my ancestors’ drawings.”

“Thank you,” Daegan offers him. “No map, no plan, nothing is going to help us, I’m afraid. I never want to be remembered as the king who said this…but we are extremely outnumbered and we have lost. There isn’t a future for us outside this town.” A silence echoes around the room. He is telling the truth, but it doesn’t mean anyone has to accept it. “We have little over one thousand riders left, and two hundred fae without dragons—maybe much less than that if the wounded don’t survive. Everyone else is women, children, men who can’t fight, and the elderly. We would need a miracle at this point to fight the vampyres and not be slaughtered. I feel like the world outside is going nowhere fast, and we can rebuild this place into something great. We spent five hundred years in the mansion protected, and we can spend another five hundred years here building an army. The dragons will breed, more riders will be found, and we can build up an army big enough to go out there and have a chance. This is not our time.” He looks at me. “I know you wantto use the books to help us, but if I am not proof enough that the books are not good, they are evil, then what is? They are selfish and want what is best for them. We cannot use them. You cannot, Story.”

“So, you’re planning to spend another five hundred years locked up?” I ask, incredulous. “And what about the fae out there? What about our people?” I rise up and put my hands on the table. “As for the books, you don’t get to decide not to use them. They belong to the Twilight Dynasty.”

“And are you claiming the Twilight Dynasty? Even when you’re claiming the Moon, too?” He waves his hands out. “The books are evil! They should be dropped into the sea and forgotten about!!”

“They are gods! They are deities, trapped within pages because of our ancestors!” I shout back. “You know we can’t win this war, so give me the book and let me beg them to help us. We need a way to win and save the fae who are still suffering.”

“And how exactly do you plan on saving them, Story, when those deities turn on you like they did me?” Daegan points out, his tone sharp.

“Look, I don’t like risking our future on them, but—” The ground shakes violently, cutting me off. It’s as if the earth is trembling beneath our feet. The maps slide off the table, and the stone statues tumble to the floor with it. All of us glance around, wide-eyed, but I look down. I look at the dragon markings on my hands and arms, how they are dancing fast, and focus instead on a familiar feeling in my chest. A dark fire burning to life.

“What is that?” Avaluna shouts, her voice unsteady as I smile and turn to the door, and I walk out. I rush towards that feeling, knowing I’m right.

Daegan is at my side as I rush, running with all I have, all the pain disappearing from my mind. I look up—and my breath catches. “My king is back.” I can barely believe it as my bond with Ziven seems to erupt in my chest, pulsing with renewed life, and his shadows spread across the walls, making the place dark for the first time in centuries. I dig my feet into the ground to steady myself as a dragon soars above us—a massive, grey dragon, larger than Maeve. A little sadness touches my heart when I realise, if Ziven has a new dragon, his must be gone. I smile up at the sky, knowing Brythan will not be forgotten anytime soon.

“Who is that?” Daegan shouts over the loudest dragon roar I’ve ever heard.

“That is the Moon Dynasty king, and he is mine.” My eyes stay locked on the dragon and its rider. My heart races as I feel him looking at me, too. “And you said you needed a miracle to win this war, right? It seems your enemy has brought you one.”

The dragon lands near the cliff’s edge, and I sprint toward him as fast as my legs will carry me. By the time I reach the enormous creature, my stomach aches, and I’m clutching my side in pain, but it is worth it.

Ziven is still astride the dragon, and he looks more like a king than ever before. He leans down slightly to talk to the dragon, giving me a chance to take in this strange creature. The creature is a sight to behold—grey like storm clouds, with shadows swirling around its wings and body. It has tattered spikes that run from the crown of its head down its back, stretching along itswings. The dragon is muscular, colossal, with claws so massive they could rival my height. Its piercing silver eyes glint with sheer menace as it snarls my way, but I know better than to break its stare when it’s challenging me.

Ziven places a calming hand on the dragon’s snout, smoothing it down gently. The beast snorts, breaking eye contact first, but lifts into the air and flies off, leaving a storm of dust between the male I love and me.

That’s when I see Ziven clearly for the first time. He’s changed—so much that he seems like an entirely different man.

His body is covered in tattoos, black dragon designs curling around his skin like living flames. They climb into his arms, neck, and chest, disappearing beneath the rip in his shirt. Across his forehead is a crown of dragons, their forms interwoven in intricate detail, with peaks that rise like spires at the centre of his brow. His black hair falls around the crown, framing his face.

His eyes meet mine, and I forget how to breathe.

In an instant, he closes the distance between us. His lips capture mine, and his hands tangle in my hair as he kisses me with a fervour that steals every thought from my mind.

“Story,” he whispers against my lips, his voice rough and filled with longing.

Every part of me comes alive, like he’s somehow mending every crack in my soul.

“Where have you been?” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes. “Where the hell have you been? I needed you.”

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