Page 30 of A Story of Mates and Temptation

“Thank you for letting her ride you,” I tell Maeve in my mind.

“Hettie woke me up and told me the dragons were going to war and you were missing. I knew, other than that mate of yours, there was one being who would be able to find you. My heart nearly stopped when she flew,” my mother says. “Hettie knew the deities had something to do with your disappearance, but she wasn’t sure what. Tell me what happened,” she says, shivering, “while I warm up a second, as it’s cold on a dragon. You never mentioned the cold you feel to your bones, even in a coat.”

I let out a breathless laugh, shaking my head. “I know, but you get used to it.” I tell my mum everything, leaving out the part about the baby because when I first say it out loud to someone, it will be to Ziven. I want to see his smile, see his joy and live in it for a while before we inform anyone else, even my mother. I want her advice, her guidance, and then maybe I will find a waythrough this new adventure. I exhale, steadying myself from my mother. “I have to go to Ziven.”

“I’ll be fine.” My mother nods. “The town is that way. I’m going to go into it—to help the fae who will be fleeing from this war.”

I squeeze her hand. “Be careful, please.”

Maeve lowers herself to the ground for me, and I rush over, wasting no more time here. I see my mother running into the forest, down the winding path, and I silently send a prayer up to the deities to watch over her as they celebrate above. I hope my mother is quick enough to lead others away from the fires. If anyone can lead survivors to safety, it’s her.

The moment I settle, Maeve takes off—soaring straight into the sky—slamming into a Silkvir who was coming right for us. Red scales and blood flash before me as she spins around, and I barely hold on, my stomach twisting as she comes around with the Silkvir in her mouth. The Silkvir screeches, and my ears sting from the noise, which is dampened by the wind, along with the crunching of bones in Maeve’s mouth. Another comes at us, and this Silkvir is much smaller than her, making it easy for her to knock into it. The force sends it crashing down into the forest below.

The bright light of the dancing colours in the sky makes it easy to see everything in the night, and my heart clenches as I take in the devastation of the city. I’ve never been to this city, not once, and it is grand. Or it was. The city is a thousand pillars of all different levels, with homes built around them, and most of them are burning like torches in the night. Dragons and Silkvir fill the night, and with the storms, the heavy rain that has soaked me to my bones, it looks like a nightmare. A war. Maeve’s voice cuts into my head. “Focus.”

She is right. Ziven. He was with the king, and if the king falls, the war is nearly won. I sense Ziven near, and I search for him, looking around the sky to the left, away from the main part of the burning city. Maeve follows my line of sight, and within a few minutes, we find them. Ziven. His dragon is breathing unholy silver fire, trying to catch a Silkvir that is just as massive as him. The Silkvir is burnt everywhere and bleeding black into the air, but the shadow dragon Ziven rides is no better off. I lean down. “Let’s go and finish this!”

Maeve shoots across the sky, straight for my mate. Ziven’s shadows burn in the air, writhing around them as the city below burns. Burns with dragon fire. Maeve lurches up and we dive, spiralling toward them—toward the king’s Silkvir.

Ziven and the king are locked in a fight in the air, their dragons climbing higher and higher with each beat of their wings. Shadows flare around me, falling like silver ink through the air as we slam into the other side of the Silkvir, hitting the king’s Silkvir with as much force as possible. I lurch, nearly falling backwards, but my fingertips grab her scales, and I hold on with everything I have, even as the fear of falling this high up makes me feel sick. Maeve’s claws rip down its back, but she can’t reach its wings as Ziven’s dragon turns around and comes back closer. The Silkvir pushes off Maeve, dragging its teeth down her neck, and dragon blood pours down my arms. I scream as she roars in pain. “Maeve!”

The Silkvir gets free in her shock, but she doesn’t give in, ignoring the pain, and she shoots up after him in the sky.

More Silkvir flood around us, chasing us as we climb higher, and I look down, seeing Ziven’s dragon fighting twenty of them off on his own. My mouth parts as I feel his worry, his desperation for my safety like it’s my own. “Don’t chase him. It’s what he wants!”

The king fights them off, but Maeve is not going to stop. I know she won’t. Ziven’s eyes meet mine through the chaos, and he roars as the Silkvir pile onto his dragon, pulling him down in the sky, and soon we are higher than the clouds, we are in the dancing lights, and they are blinding. Both our dragons swirl around each other, flying higher and higher, so high we might touch the heavens themselves to join the deities. The king is clinging to his rotting beast like it’s a lifeline, like it can save him from me, but it can’t. “Don’t leave me, Maeve.”

It’s the only warning I give her before I jump off her back, the air whistling in my ears as I land straight onto the back of the king’s dragon, my hands digging into its bones, and I hold on tight as it snarls into the air, but it doesn’t stop climbing. I can’t breathe as I look up at the king, who hasn’t noticed me. He is panting, holding onto the saddle his Silkvir wears as the air literally runs out around us. I don’t have long. My silver shadows coil around me as I climb, step by step, higher and higher, up the rotting flesh and bones to the king. Every step, every stretch of my body hurts, and I’m covered in sweat by the time I get close.

The king turns at the last second, grabs my arm, yanking me in front of him and onto the saddle. He flashes his teeth, his fangs, and snaps at me to bite, but my shadows protect me first. They hit him like a thousand arrows, cutting through his body one by one. His eyes widen in shock, and I punch him hard, just the way Ziven taught me. His head snaps to the side, his grip loosening on the saddle. Maeve is there, latching herself to the Silkvir and biting its belly below me. Going for its heart.

The king stops fighting me, and he just stares, like he’s seen a ghost. Like that ghost has finally come for him after all these years. I shout over the wind, over the crying wail of the Silkvir. “I’m sure you’ll see her,” I whisper. “I’m sure she’ll take youstraight to wherever the most rotten of souls go to burn for eternity. Your son will be there already.”

Magic—red magic—deity magic—explodes out of me. It burns through the king and through what is left of the Silkvir below me, through everything, and red flames consume the world, burning like a star in the dancing lights until there is nothing left around.

And I fall.

The wind whips around me, the world flickering past in a blur, and I know, I just know, I’m going to die. Maeve is falling too, and she is too far, way too far, to get to me. “I’m coming!” she screams in my mind, but we both know, just know, it will be too late.

I think of him as I fall, as I can’t breathe, and the pressure of the air feels like it’s tearing my body apart, destroying me from within. “Ziven, I will always love you. I didn’t want us to end like this.”

“I will save you!” he growls. “Open your eyes, Storm.” I do and I see his dragon is diving for me, far closer than Maeve. But they’re not close enough. “Nothing will take you from me again.” His dragon moves with impossible speed, like the moon itself is powering him, and seconds before the treeline, he catches me in its sharp claws, but my head smacks into something hard, and darkness crashes over me like a storm.

In it, I only see the man I love.

Chapter Seventeen

Page Seventeen. This is a true account of the life of Pagen Dehana.

Everything’s foggy when I open my eyes, but I can make out dark green trees—towering familiar trees high above me. The leaves are turning brilliant shades of red and orange, some of them even falling from the branches into the wind as I watch. The air isn’t warm, but it isn’t cold either, and I am fine under what must be at least three blankets. The blankets are wrapped tightly around my back, and I search around for the source of the noise of many people talking and whispering to themselves. I also hear the sound of fire crackling nearby and something flapping in the breeze, maybe clothes on a line. High in the trees is a cover of fabric, blocking out the heavy rays of sunlight. I stretch out my body, like testing it for injuries, but I don’t feel anything but a deep ache everywhere. Until I move my head and wince at the non-physical pain that slams into my mind.

Hair strokes my arm, and I look over to see blonde hair and a curious, innocent face watching me as she lies on my arm. “Hettie,” I whisper.

Her returning grin could light up the world. “You’re awake! Uncle Ziven said you’d wake up soon, but I was getting really worried. It’s been three weeks!” She hugs me under the quilt, and I hug her right back, breathing in her scent. We lie like that for a long moment, a moment of comfort I needed.

“Three weeks?” My voice cracks. Did she say I’ve been asleep for three weeks? That’s a long time after the fight with the king and the war. Did we win? I assume so if I’m lying here, happy and alive.

“Yeah, three entire weeks.” She nods against my chest. “But uncle Ziven was so sure you’d be okay. Anyway, my uncle’s never wrong. At least, that’s what he says.”

---