Page 1 of Claimed By the Dragon King

CHAPTER1

FREYJA

Idream of fire and ruin. Destruction and flame. A strange man shrouded in darkness, with emerald eyes that burn into mine, their vertically-slit pupils expanding as he studies me with a piercing gaze. “T’kara,” his deep voice echoes in my head, and although I do not know this word, I can feel the possession that seeps in his tone.

He is the man that haunts me both night and day, the future that rushes toward me. I know not if he is my salvation or my end, I only know that Fate is the hunter I cannot escape.

Rusted hinges creak loudly,startling me awake. Two guards stalk toward me, jerking me to my feet from the pitiful straw palette that has been my bed these past few weeks.

Fear tightens my chest as I recognize the one that gave me a lashing three days ago, tasked with securing my confession of witchcraft.

I clench my jaw, determined not to break. If he’s come to try to whip a confession out of me again, the only answer he’ll get is the muffled cries I cannot bite back. I will never admit to the crimes they’ve accused me of because they are not mine to claim.

I squint my eyes against the harsh rays of the sun as their rough hands pull me from the castle dungeon and into the courtyard. It feels like forever since I’ve seen the outside and the light is so bright it’s nearly blinding.

The guards grasp my arms in a bruising grip as they drag me through the maddened crowd. Several have gathered here today to witness my execution, shouting and jeering for the death of the witch.

Witch. The word settles in my gut like a heavy stone. I am a princess and a shield-maiden of Ruhaen. I’ve never conjured a spell or cast an enchantment, but I’ve had dreams of things before they have happened. Only a handful, but enough to recognize the truth.

I have inherited the curse of my mother’s bloodline.

All magic—even that of seers—is forbidden and considered witchcraft by the Order of Mages and punishable by death.

I would have taken this secret to my grave, if not for my nightmare less than a fortnight ago. Closing my eyes, I remember it so clearly. The memory returns in vivid detail of the Wraiths invading our kingdom, a trail of death and devastation left behind in their wake.

When I awakened, I knew I had to tell my uncle—the king. I confided my truth to him and his betrothed—Luria. Only seven years older, she befriended me and became my closest confidante. I believed I could trust them, but I was wrong. I was compelled to warn them so we could make plans to defend the kingdom. How could I remain silent if it meant others might die?

It was Luria that turned on me first, convincing my uncle in less than a heartbeat that I must be imprisoned. Her betrayal and his complacency in it cut deeper than any knife ever could. My uncle has never trusted the Mages; he and the Council cast out the last High Mage over a year ago. And yet he reported me to their Order, offering me up to their judgment and barbaric laws, as if I’d meant nothing to him.

My heart stops when my gaze lands on the large, raised platform with a wooden stake in the middle. Thick cords of wood surround the base for the fire that will be lit to burn my body to ash.

As the guards drag me up the steps, I thrash against their hold, but it’s no use as they grip me in an iron vise and slam my back against the pole. Forcing my arms overhead, they bind my wrists with rope. The rough twine digs into my flesh as I struggle to free myself, desperate to escape. Several strands of my long red hair fall loose from my braid as I fight against my bindings.

“Please!” I cry out. “Do not do this!”

“Silence, witch!” One of the guards sneers as he wraps another rope tight around my ankles to keep me in place.

Frantic, I turn my head toward the raised dais off to the side and lock eyes with the King. “Uncle Harald, please! Let me go!”

Dressed in his full regalia, his red hair, peppered with gray, is perfectly coiffed beneath his heavy gold crown. His pale blue eyes are dull with disinterest as he gazes at me while his soon-to-be wife, Luria, leans close and whispers in his ear.

“Silence her!” my uncle calls out. “Before she bewitches you all!”

Without hesitation, the guards wrap a leather belt tightly over my mouth while Luria watches with a sneer on her otherwise perfect face.

Her long blonde hair shines like gold beneath the light, matching the heavy gold chains and rings gifted to her by the king. Her green eyes meet mine and a glowing light flashes behind them a moment, turning them raven-black.

Anger floods my veins as the pieces all fall into place. Luria is not human. She’s a Mage. A spy sent by the Order to influence our king and bring our lands back under their dark and twisted rules.

With my uncle under her spell, she’ll marry him, and the entire kingdom will be laid bare at their feet. The King will be little more than a figurehead, while the Mages control everything.

Harald has been a father to me since my parent’s death, and his betrayal pierces my heart. But as my gaze sweeps over the maddened crowd, it seems no one here is immune to Luria’s powerful magic.

My uncle loved me. I know that he did. Tears blur my vision and sting my eyes as I gaze at him once more. At least I can take comfort in the knowledge that he knows not what he does.

Satisfied that my bindings are secure and that I cannot speak, the guards leave the platform and light their torches while the crowd calls for my death, gathering small stones and pebbles from the courtyard to throw them at me.

Each impact against my flesh is agony, and I lower my head trying to shield my face from the assault. My heart hammers and tears spill down my cheeks as fire catches the wood surrounding the platform.

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