Page 59 of Rejected By Dragons

"In the war?" Her brows draw together. Proudly, she announces, "My own. With my mates and my family, trying to protect what was important to me."

And Amy told me this. She explained that her mother lived on a commune and had a whole motley host of mates. It's something else entirely to hear it straight from the source, though.

She lowers her voice. "That's where I am now. That's where I'll be in the battle to come."

"Battle?" I hate the way my voice squeaks.

How am I supposed to sound level and calm right now? The war lasted for ages. The peace was hard-fought-for and hard-won. An entire kingdom of dragons sacrificed themselves to achieve it.

"There's always another battle." She practically spits the words. "Always another war. Can't you feel the rumblings? Can't you taste it?"

I don't know what she's talking about. And yet...

There have always been murmurs. Dragons coexisting in peace is a lovely story, but quiet and calm aren't exactly in our nature.

I shake my head. We can't be headed straight toward another conflict already. Not so soon. "The peace summit..."

"Is a last ditch effort to stave off the inevitable. Poor Freya believes in it, and I hope her faith is not misplaced, but I trust neither side." She lets out a rough breath that's tinged with ash. "The Stone and Fire Kingdoms are on the brink, and Zephyr's war-mongering never stopped. Even now, the Shadow King is moving. Just beyond our sight."

My skin flashes cold. Instinct tells me to curl in on myself.

I never have been very good at listening to my instincts.

I lash out. "So, what? You foresee death and battles, and you just sit here? Importing artifacts and hoarding power?"

"One can never have enough resources in times of strife, child." Her eyes flash black, and her tongue sharpens. "Unity will need them."

"You mean you'll need them. So you can, what? Run away again?"

And that's not fair. I'm being borderline cruel. Amy told me Rhiannon's mates sent her and their children away in a mad bid to keep them safe. Rhiannon's not to blame for that.

There's a growl on her breath, a scent of dragon smoke in the air. "So I can put an end to it."

Her gaze drops to my wrist. I suddenly see it all so clearly.

"With this." I hold up the bracer, and it hums with dark magic. "That was your plan?"

For the first time, her confidence seems to falter. "The Shadow Queen's blood runs through my veins. The line goes back centuries."

"It must be less pure than you thought."

"No bloodline is pure or we'd be like the old human kings. Deformities and inbreeding." She looks at me through narrowed eyes. "Perhaps mine is more splintered than I realized, though."

"Wait. You don't mean--"

I can't be. There's no way.

"You're not no one, Ember. You're not nothing."

"I'm not a Shadow Dragon, either."

"Not entirely, no." She gazes at me appraisingly. "What do you know of your mother and father?"

Pain rips through my chest. Their absence is a hole inside of me that's never closed up or healed. Her question only tears it open wider. "Not as much as I thought I did, apparently."

"Well, I daresay you'll soon find out."

"They were good people."

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