Page 69 of Wrath of the Dragons
“Of course I’ll come.” She glances at Cayden over my shoulder. “Be good to my girl.”
“I swear it,” Cayden evenly responds.
Chapter
Thirty-four
Cayden
Bells chime in the toweras gilded carriages coast down the road leading to the circle in front of the castle. Guests climb the steps, decked out in elaborate outfits of rich tones and billowing fabric. I tuck my hands into my pockets and lean against the window that overlooks Verendus. As far back as I can see, streets are draped in strands of light and dark blue flowers. Their fallen petals speckle the cobblestones. The city is alive with people reveling in the merriment of the royal wedding.
A party of six soldiers astride white horses leads the path of a decadent silver-and-white carriage. The first two riders carry the banners of House Duskbane: a snarling silver wolf stitched onto dark gray fabric. A squire announces the royals and opens the door for King Lycidias and Queen Nasha. She resembles Cordelia. The sisters share the same deep brown skin, but Nasha’s hair is so black it soaks up the sunlight around her. Lycidias is a stark contrast with pale skin and short white hair tied at the nape of his neck.
“I knew I’d find you lurking away from the crowd,” Ryder says, striding down the hall and mirroring my position on the opposite side of the window. “Do you think they’ll be a problem?”
“Not with five dragons flying overhead and my army surrounding them.”
As if summoned, Sorin dips in front of the castle and the guestsjerk their heads toward the sky to see his green scales on full display and his wings spread wide. A mixture of wonder, awe, and fear coat their faces. Soldiers gather around the royals despite knowing steel is nothing compared to dragonfire. It’s a testament to their loyalty, I’ll give them that.
“The fact they’re here is a positive sign.” Ryder pulls out a flask from the inside pocket of his jacket, taking a swig before handing it to me. “They are publicly acknowledging the transfer of power in Vareveth despite it stemming from an act of treason. It strengthens your claim to the throne in the eyes of other kingdoms.”
I take a swig knowing Ryder’s choice of poison is also whiskey and twist the signet ring around my finger.
“It doesn’t hurt that he looks the part,” Saskia says, gliding down the hall in her dark blue-and-gold gown, complete with dramatic skirts and sleeves that loop over her middle fingers. She’s woven the beads Elowen bought from the market into her hair, and pulled the majority of it away from her face but left two braids to frame her features. Her eyes drift to the golden crown atop my head with the House Veles sigil at the center, shining with pride.
Ryder and Saskia are the closest thing I have to a family. Before them, I had absolutely nothing in this world and nobody to care if I died. Ryder loved life enough to remind me I was human, and Saskia was always there to rein us back in when we were too reckless. We became a unit, banded together by nothing more than the need to survive, and realized that somewhere along the way we began offering our backs to one another to take on the world.
They began calling me their brother before I viewed them as anything more than a liability and waited for me to figure my head out. Thank the gods I did.
“Be happy today, Cayden. For both your sakes,” Saskia whispers.
Ryder nods, clearing his throat. Unspoken emotion lines his eyes as he sticks his hand out, a gesture we do before every battle, a symbol that we’ll take on whatever comes by each other’s side. I clasp his forearm, and he steps closer to slap me on the back as I squeeze Saskia’sshoulder with my other hand. That’s the end of my rope when it comes to showing affection.
“She’s by the lake,” Saskia says.
I quirk a brow in response. I tried to see Elowen earlier and Saskia threatened to scoop my eyes out with a spoon if I saw her before the ceremony. “Despite my earlier remarks, I think it would benefit her to see you.”
I’m hustling down the hall before she even finishes the sentence, and Ryder’s laughter follows me down the spiraling stone staircase. My heart slams against my ribs and anticipation makes my chest feel so tight it would crack if I tapped it. The servants bustling about the castle grant me a wide berth as they ready the chambers for guests and prepare the feast. I straighten out my cloak before shoving the glass door leading to the lake open.
The sun glistens along the surface and bathes the snowcapped mountains and forest. Elowen stands along the edge of the icy shore, watching her dragons as they twirl through the air. The idea of salvation in the underworld is a mockery now that I have her in my sight, knowing there’s nothing sweeter than this woman, nothing that comes after this that could compare.
The wind carries her floral scent toward me, and I inhale it like a drug, letting the high of her presence encompass me. Her curls are perfectly structured and adorned with sparkling blue jewels, and her dress leaves her shoulders bare and is made of a mixture of lace and silk so delicate it’s like water flowing around her. It shimmers as if starlight were woven into it. The dramatic train and hem are embroidered with delicate golden vines dotted with small blue flowers, and two embroidered dragons decorate the back of her upper arms, matching the blossoms on her ample skirts.
Her shoulders stiffen when she’s alerted to my presence, but she doesn’t face me yet. “It’s believed to be bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.”
My pulse picks up to the point where I can’t form words as she turns around. A wave of adoration slams into me so hard that myknees weaken. It’s a miracle I remain standing. Elowen is the ivy that consumes me. Her vines are strong and latch on to me, as they have for years, but now she’s not only wrapped around my mind but also embedded into the soul I didn’t know I had until I met her.
Gods, I’m so in love with her.
“You.” I shake my head, my fingers reaching toward her cheek but never making contact. “There aren’t words, Elowen, for how beautiful you are.”
I don’t recognize my voice, this guttural, breathless tone.
Her brown eyes, lightly lined in black, shimmer with emotion as she soaks me in. The front of her dress is even more beautiful than the back, with lace peeking above the corset top to grace the swells of her breasts with a star sapphire set between them. Her gown is a mixture of draconic and celestial elements all fashioned in the colors of our house. The golden beads on her bodice and hips are so small I’m surprised blood doesn’t mar the fabric, given the amount of time and work it must’ve taken to create this. Sheer dark blue fabric spills from the split sleeves and drapes elegantly at her sides, dotted with more golden beads that resemble stars.
Instead of a traditional crown, she wears the golden circlet I sent to her this morning. It rests across her forehead with several teardrop-shaped sapphires and blue-flashing moonstones along the elaborate band. Five thin chains droop from the back of it, all with a dragon at the center. The front pieces of her hair are braided back with small blossoms woven into them, and I’m glad a veil doesn’t cover her face; instead, translucent gold fabric hangs from two chains at the back of her head, laced with the same blue jewels that decorate her hair.
“I’m convinced you’re not real.” I shake my head, tipping her chin up to drop my forehead against hers. “You must be a figment of my imagination because nothing as perfect as you could exist in a place as wretched as this world.” She gives me a watery laugh and blinks rapidly. I brush the curls off her shoulders and trace my fingers down the column of her throat. It’s sacrilege for my hand, sullied beyond redemption, to be touching something as divine as her. “And if I’mdead, and this is the afterlife, then I’ll kill whatever creature comes to drag me away from you once the universe realizes I’ve done nothing in life to deserve this.”
