Page 9 of A Story of Mates and Temptation

Swirls of shadow magic wrap around me and settle on my hand as a new marking appears. Right in the centre of my palm, a dragon—looking just like the stubborn bastard that’s been staring me down—swirls across the skin, peering toward my fingertips. When I look up, I’m in the mansion again and daylight is streaming through the glass top. The stone dragon is still there in the centre, Story’s dragon, but I’m outside the library and it’s warm. It smells like smoke and cooked food. What the fuck is happening?

“Mazzis, you have to leave the library at some point! You’re going to grow old like a tree in there, with no love life or fun.”

My blood freezes at the sound of my sister’s voice. It’s been so long since I heard her speak, let alone with joy and happiness in every word. I turn around to see her standing there, her long dark hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, just as she always wore it when we were younger. Before life truly ate away at us. She’s grinning, her smile as massive as her presence.

They were always such good friends. Mazzis and her. It’s why I always liked him, because he asked for nothing of her friendship but her time, which she gave easily.

But I don’t remember this. It never happened in the past, and I don’t understand why I’m here now. Mazzis touches her shoulder. “The books are my fun in life, and if I am ever blessed with a love life, it is best to find me in the pages.”

My sister rolls her eyes. “Oh, Mazzis, I miss you.”

He frowns and looks over at me, bowing his head in greeting. I do the same. “Make sure she eats, Prince Ziven. She’s always running about and never eating enough.”

“I don’t even know which one of you two is my big brother.” She jokes, laughing low, before she comes closer to me.

I stare at her…for so long that Mazzis has left and it’s nearly night. The mansion has gone quiet, fires are lit up for lights, and there is a silence that only the night brings. “You’re dead.”

Her face drops, all the light and a smile leaving with it. Her skin pales. Her hair is sharply cut short above her ears—just like it was after Hettie was born. Before she gave up on life and let it drown out her fire. “Yes. But the gods have given us a chance. We can leave now. Go and see my daughter together, brother.” She offers me her hand.

“No.” I step back, right up to the railing. “You’re not real. This is a sick joke. It’s not funny. Where am I?” I shake my head, trying to remember, but I can’t. I can’t recall why I was here or even where I am. I glance back at the dragon in the middle, trying to summon any memory, but nothing comes to mind. Not even a story. It’s a statue…and it means something important, but I don’t know what it is. In fact, who am I?

A warm hand touches my arm. What is my sister’s name? I don’t know anything except she is my sister. It’s all fading. I can barely remember now. Her voice is soft, like coaxing an injured dog out of a hedge. “Do you remember my baby, Hettie? We can go together and be with her. She was such a special child. She’s more special than anyone knows. Do you know why she was allowed to be born?”

I can’t think. Suddenly, I remember her. Her blonde hair, her cheeky smile and attitude. She might be my niece by blood, but in every way that counts, I’ve been her dad, not just her uncle. I’ve brought her up to be the heir I likely will never have. “I do.”

“Hettie, the beautiful little girl that I had, well, she was prophesied long ago to the dragons. They let her become real with magic because she’ll be the queen who unites all of this broken world. When two kings give up their crowns to one, she can be…everything. She is to be the heir of both the Sun and the Moon, of the Twilight and the lost Dawn Dynasty. She has the blood of the Dusk in her from a long-lost line. She will be the queen of the dragons, the fae, and the vampyres and set about generations of peace.” She touches my cheek this time. “Don’t you see, Ziv? We can go and watch her from the afterlife together. She doesn’t need us now.” She begins to lead me down the path. “No one does anymore.”

My shoes dig into the path, and I make her stop, pulling my hand from hers and wherever she was leading me. “Story Dehana cannot be forgotten by whatever dark magic you are using. I’d never forget her, and I will never willingly walk into death…not even for you, my beloved sister. You are gone, and she is not.”

Fury blankets over her face, and she throws herself at me, a dagger appearing out of thin air as she tries to slam it into my throat. I knock her hand away just as it scratches across my skin. “The fuck are you doing?” I push her back. “And for the record, I know this isn’t my sister. She wouldn’t have laid a finger on me.” I grab her arm. “Stop!”

She starts fighting me, and it’s impossible to fight her back, even when I know it’s not her. She’s just like my sister, and I love her. She’s all I have left…right? I see shadows dancing around my face, pushing onto my skin and into my head. Everything beginsto slip again until I can’t picture the woman I love anymore as I hold my sister back, as she screams at me to die. Even her daughter’s name flickers from my mind. Even when everything that comes to mind just slips away. Stories in my mind linger like they aren’t important anymore. Things that aren’t true, things that are. A woman in my arms, laughing sweetly.

I hold her tight to me, begging her to stop fighting me, stop trying to hurt me. Screaming it over and over in the mansion—a mansion which is nothing more than a room, a house, things that don’t make any sense. Did I live here once? I don’t know anymore. “Stop!” I shout at her, but it’s too late. She slams into me, and I let go—only for a second—and she goes falling over the banister, and I don’t hesitate. I fling myself over too and jump after her to try to save her even though she is dead already.

We both slam straight into a ledge, and I grunt from the impact, tasting blood in my mouth. My sister fades into nothing but shadows—grey shadows slipping from my hands—before spreading out into a dragon form. It cracks the sides of the mansion, and everything—brick and ash—falls, consumed by grey flames until I recognise Nianyan again.

I stand on a ledge, looking up at it. “That was cruel,” I snarl, all my memories rushing back. “She was my sister.”

“Even with your mind gone, your memories missing, you still jumped after her. Why?” He actually sounds confused and shocked. Fucking hell, my ancestors must have been power hungry assholes to make Nianyan believe we are all like that.

“Because she’s family. Because I loved her. I’m true to my word…I will be your rider.” I stand tall. “And I will rule this world in peace.” It watches me for a long time, and I watch it right back, knowing that nothing will stop me from being its rider. “I amstronger than any before me, and I want a better world. You’ve been inside my mind, and you know what I think. You know what I want.”

“I do not think you will survive this on good intentions alone. It is up to the deities now.” A cold breeze blows around me. “You were prophesied to come here a long time ago, King Ziven. Half the prophecies say you’ll die. Half of them do not. But either way, you will keep your deal with me.”

It slams into me with the full force of a dragon. I scream as I fall back, shadows ripping into my skin, grey flames bursting across my body.

He may be right because I don’t think I can survive this.

Chapter Six

Page Six. I was born with the knowledge of my fathers and their fathers. We know the deities are coming back, and we must fight for this world…

The flight with Daegan feels much longer than eight hours—it feels like an eternity of icy wind and silence between us. I don’t say a word to him for the rest of it, and I’m still stuck in disbelief that he has saved me. Being honest with myself, I thought of our bond. This thing that lingers between us in the form of making us entwined mates was a curse and nothing more. I thought of him as nothing more than a monster, and as far as forgiveness goes, I know deep down I won’t be able to forgive him for what he did. But hate him? Hating Daegan at this moment leaves a funny feeling in my chest. It feels wrong.

We start climbing into snowy mountains right as the sun sets—or almost disappears. The light softly fades in brilliant shades of orange and red, as it dies down for the moon to have its chance to shine bright. We soar high, just before Daegan grips me tightly and Odemis dives. Wind whistles in my ears, and itdoesn’t stop as we sink down in the clouds, straight into the top of what looks like a sunken mountain peak. Darkness is sharp against my eyes as everything loses light, and all I can smell on the wind is damp earth, a world that hasn’t been touched by fae or vampyre. Tunnels, and Odemis knows them well.

Daegan flies down the tunnels, both of us cloaked in pitch darkness that only reminds me of Ziven. I close my eyes, unable to open them against the force of the flight, and soon my ears pop, my skin bristles, and I pull the cloak tighter around me. The dive goes on—down, down—and all I can do is feel for Ziven. He still feels gone, like he’s not really here, like he’s dying. I can’t shake the horrible feeling in the pit of my chest, even as a familiar voice breaks through the darkness. A voice I am so relieved to hear. “You’re back. You’re coming to me. I am injured or I would have flown to you. My wing…I will fly, if in time. I’ll see you soon. I’m well.”

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