Page 1 of Hidden Fate

CHAPTERONE

Blood trickledfrom the mouth of the dragon king, and his legs wobbled. When he stumbled, two warriors grabbed his arms and helped him regain his balance.

A dagger protruded from his back.

“How could you?” his deep voice rasped as he gaped at his younger son. His blood soaked the bottom half of his lavender shirt, turning it crimson. His midnight-black irises lightened as death drew closer.

A mix of emotions swirled through Thorn’s and my fated-mate bond as he watched his estranged father fade in front of his eyes, mortally wounded by none other than Thorn’s younger brother, Drake.

Drake was born soon after his parents had tried to kill Thorn at the tender age of six. They’d nurtured the very son who’d grown into the exact thing they’d feared Thorn would become—evil. Not only had Drake stabbed his father, but he’d also hunted Thorn to kill him, and he’d tried to force me to marry him, even though Thorn and I were fated mates.

The cool breeze of late May from the Blue Ridge Mountains shifted the tree branches in the small clearing and brushed across my naked skin, bringing the metallic stench of blood to my nose. I stepped closer to Thorn, needing his body heat and the jolt of our fated-mate connection. Our group was all naked. Drake had forced us to shift into our human forms, or else he would’ve hurt Tyson, who lay unconscious at his feet, naked with a tranq lodged in his side.

Drake’s nose wrinkled as he lifted his head. “You’re trying to prevent me from taking the throne…from making our race strong. You criticized me for choosing a wife and a breeder. I’m doing what’s necessary to ensure our race doesn’t die out.”

Because his father had denounced his narcissistic ass as the true heir to the throne. This confrontation, though, was limited to the warriors here and our group, which no other thunder would trust, not yet. That had to be why Drake had stabbed his father.

To my right, Saphira straightened. The front section of her long, curly, dark brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, covering her breasts, and the other half fell to her mid-back. The color emphasized her gorgeous bronze skin. She narrowed her mocha eyes as she spat, “Like killing all the injured and old dragons? And forcing a human to be your breeder even though she might die?”

“I am keeping our bloodline pure.” Drake clenched his hands. “If our race wants to survive and thrive, someone has to do the hard things.” He waved a hand at his father. “Hewasn’t up to the task. He was going to hand over the throne to anabomination.”

I snorted, unable to stay silent. I’d done that for too long with my stepdad, accepting the poor way he treated me, and I’d recently learned that he’d treated my brother and sister similarly while I’d been gone. “That’s complete bullshit. Thorn is not an abomination. He’s strong, caring, and can heal the injured. Having a permanent injury doesn’t make anyone weak.” Anyone who’d ever had to persevere and learn how to survive through adversities was stronger than Drake and all his loyal warriors combined. He was an entitled jerk who’d never had to struggle.

Drake’s ice-cold ebony eyes drilled into me.

Bristling, Thorn fidgeted so that his naked body blocked most of mine from Drake’s view. Thorn snarled, his anger palpable. Everyone must have felt it.

“Everly. Dear fiancée…” Drake sneered at me. Despite the breeze, his dark brown hair remained in perfect small spikes. “That is youroneslip. Once we are married—”

Body shaking, Thorn stepped forward. My eyes locked on his mark, the very thing that had instigated this entire mess almost two decades ago. Spread over the base of his neck to the top of his back, the mark resembled a dragon tattoo. It denoted that he possessed magic, the kind that petrified the king and all the other dragons. Thorn could create new dragon shifters. He could also take a dragon shifter’s magic away—a power Thorn’s grandfather had possessed and abused for evil.

“She ismy mateandwife!” Thorn bellowed. He tensed, every muscle in his back pronounced. He stepped over one of the ten unconscious warriors as the other forty surrounding us remained frozen in place. Everyone, including Vlad, Cassidy, Saphira, Tyson, Errol, and Brenton, was still reeling from what we’d witnessed—Drake stabbing his father, King Arman, in the back.

Drake laughed loudly. “Maybe now, but not for much longer. Once we get you back to the château, we’ll record all of your deaths…except hers.” He pointed at me. “Of course.”

“Son, this isn’t you.” King Arman’s voice came out garbled. Blood ran down his chin and onto the front of his shirt. “We raised you better than this.”

The few times I’d met the king, power had radiated from him, enhanced by his dragon and his tall, muscular build. His salt-and-pepper hair and the crow’s feet around his eyes gave him a wise air, although he’d made the foolish mistake of driving his older son—my mate—away. Now, even with two warriors attempting to hold him up, he dropped to his knees.

“Your Highness.” Errol’s face twisted with agony, and his chocolate-brown eyes darkened as he raced past his daughter, Saphira, and his brother, Brenton, toward his king. His short, dark brown hair ruffled as he squatted next to his friend and ruler. “Maybe Thorn can heal you.”

“No!” Drake exclaimed. “There will be no healing him unless you want to rush your death. I have no problem killing you here if you push me.”

My heartbeat quickened, and I moved closer to Thorn. He was now several feet in front of me, but as I stepped between Cassidy and Vlad, they each gripped my arms.

“Don’t make yourself more of a target,” Vlad murmured. His wavy caramel hair was wild, and I refused to look any lower than his cornflower blue eyes because he was as naked as I was.

“If Drake focuses on you again, Thorn might lose his ability to think straight,” Cassidy added, her hazel eyes focused on Thorn, Drake, and the king. “We could get away if we time it perfectly.”

My chest expanded. I hadn’t considered trying to escape. Drake’s warriors were distracted, but we couldn’t walk away, not if Thorn could help his biological father.Can you heal him?

“I…I can’t,” he answered aloud, then connected with me,It’s a mortal wound.Hurt and guilt slammed into me.Your head wound was a slow bleed, not like this. There’s no way to save him.

Evil mirth darkened Drake’s irises as he stepped toward his father on the side opposite Errol. Drake bent and chuckled menacingly while staring into King Arman’s eyes. “What does it feel like, learning that the son you cast away and tried to bring back can’t help you? Do you like knowing that even as you die, neither of your children can stand you?”

Thorn punched his brother in the face as a tear ran down King Arman’s cheek. Drake stumbled back several feet, blood pouring from his nose.

The king’s going to fall,I connected, as my lungs seized.

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