Page 3 of A Story of Mates and Temptation

Their words blur together in my mind as panic rises like a drum. Beat. Beat. Beat. The realisation hits me like a crashing wave along a cliff side—Emyr is going to force me to marry him tomorrow. I have no plan, no escape from this place, and I’ll end being his bride. I don’t want that and I’d rather die, but it seems like I can’t even have that option.

I can’t feel Maeve.

I know she’s alive—I can feel it somewhere deep within me—but I can’t reach her, and without my dragon, I can’t fight my way out of this. I’m trapped.

My back slides down the wall as they leave, their words fading, and I can barely hear them. Only when I hear Ziven’s name do I snap out of it. “That king, Ziven, and the other one are still missing. Along with too many dragons and fae. After the wedding, I want to return to hunt them down.”

“We will find them, but I do not feel they are a threat anymore.” The king is confident and my stomach drops like a rock. “Whereelse could they go? We will find what is left of them and destroy them. We won’t be stopped.”

“No one can stop us and I am glad of it,” Emyr echoes his father, looking back at me. I want to be sick again. I’m a prize to him. I always have been, and now he has me back exactly where he wants me. Kyrell won’t be there to pick the pieces up this time.

He’s won. It almost feels like it was all for nothing. I can’t get out of here and I still don’t even know where I am. I feel the trickle of hot blood sliding down my forehead, and I wipe it away, staring at my blood marking my hand as it shakes. I want to be strong and pretend I’m not scared, but I am. I’m tired and scared. A sob echoes out of my throat as I wrap my arms around my knees and rest my head against them. I pray to the deities, even when I know they can’t hear me because they are trapped within pages of a magic book.

I pray to them anyway. Not for me.

For Ziven.

My life is over, but his—he has to be okay. Because I love him, and if anything can survive this world, it has to be him. Even if I might not.

Chapter Two

King Ziven

Page Two. My family wish for a rebellion in the name of the gods, but I only see my small baby in my arms. A rebellion would undoubtedly cost her…or free her.

“Wake up.” I look up to see Ruelle leaning over me, her hands glowing in the brightness of magic as she continues to heal me. For a delusional moment, I don’t see Ruelle but Story. Her long red hair flowing around her slender shoulders, the glare of her bright green eyes as she argued with me and ended up in my arms, my lips on hers. Branding her as mine. Protecting her as mine, too. The limited time we had together and how it went too quickly—and ended with her hating me. Killing Kyrell was a mercy. A promise I made…but it cost me too much. It cost my Storm, and I fucked up royally. In every way that mattered.

Recently, I let myself think of a future with her. A house I’d build for her, with a massive library for her to collect books from all over the world as we travelled and I showed her everythingshe never got to see. I want to see her happy, well-travelled and living a life she deserved. I wanted to be by her side for all of it, riding our dragons together…but that future is as shattered as this world.

“I nearly thought you died on me, and I’d be forever known as the shit healer who couldn’t save the legendary Moon king.” She hits my arm, she sobs slightly. Ruelle is the role model I never once deserved. “You scared me, you silly boy.” She’s breathless with every word. “You can talk, Ziven. I’ve been alone with your half-dead body for long enough.”

“Ruelle…thank you,” I groan, noting the fact my body feels bruised and battered, but I’m not dead. As long as I’m breathing, I’m finding Story. I’m helping her. I ease myself up against a rock, glancing around the cave. The dragon’s eyes watch us from the shadows. Her dragon isn’t far, and I doubt her dragon is the only one here watching. My dragon. Brythan. I close my eyes for a moment, praying to the deities to care for him and let us see each other again in the afterlife. His last words will haunt me to the day I die.

“I will not, King Ziven, but you will. I chose you because you are strong. You are strong and you are good. I chose you because you will make any decision to save your people. The next dragon that chooses you will see that in time. You are the last king of the Moon Dynasty, and it has been my honour to serve.”

I focus on the present because my past is full of death, and if I linger there too long, I won’t find a way out. Ruelle is covered in ash from her head to toes, and her clothes are burnt in many places, but I can’t see if she is hurt. “Are you injured?”

“No.” She shifts back against the wall. “Just tired. You were gravely injured after your dragon fell from the skies.” She grunts,and I know the stubborn woman is lying about being hurt. Age has only made Ruelle more stubborn. “You passed out with your dragon not long after the fall. You were lucky I was close. A blessing from the deities in the sky, and I’m glad I was there to stop those disgusting creatures from finding you.” She swallows hard. “They haven’t found this place. It seems to be protected from them, but the mansion…” She shakes her head and picks up her walking stick, dragging it to her lap. “They burnt it down. It’s still burning even now.”

It’s gone. It was a trap for me and my people, but it was a home, too. A safe place for thousands. “Our people?”

She can only shrug her shoulders.

“Story. I can sense her out there.” I pause, struggling to find words. “I need to get?—”

Ruelle interrupts me, something she rarely does. “But I saw him, that vampyre—taking her. Through the eyes of my dragon, I saw it in the sky. He has her.”

Cold fury flickers through my chest…and fear. He will hurt her, he has done in the past, and long ago I made a promise to her that I’d protect her. I love every inch of that woman, and I can’t let that vampyre touch a hair on her head. “I have to go.”

“And where do you think you’re going without a dragon, boy?” Ruelle’s voice is sharp as I stand. “I didn’t raise you to be a stupid king who risks everything.”

“You raised me to protect my people. To protect Hettie.” My eyes snap to Ruelle. “Tell me Hettie’s still alive,” I ask. When she nods, I narrow my eyes, refocusing. “Story. Story is my mate, my entire reason for living, and I won’t let her die with that sick fucking vampyre.”

“Story…” Ruelle’s face softens. “If anyone can escape and survive, it will be her. If she were here now, would she want you to risk your life and likely die in an attempt to save her without a dragon…or do something to protect your surviving people, the fae who are holding on by nothing but faith.”

“She did everything to escape him. He can’t have her back. He’ll kill her. He’ll hurt her.” My voice drops to a whisper as I feel sick at the thought. “He’ll do worse than killing her.”

“Ziven.” She grabs my arm. “I know that. But you need a new dragon.” She pulls a necklace from around her neck and holds it out to me, a vial of ash hanging in the air between us. “While I was waiting for you to wake up, between my healing… It’s been over—what—two days now. No, that’s not right.” She hesitates as she counts. “It’s been over a week since the attack.”

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