“Don’t let them leave.” The king’s bellow reached our ears as Emrys helped Dris climb onto Desmire behind the general, then threw one leg over the beast himself, the heavy bag hanging in his hand.
Verin’s hate surrounded him . . . for me and for the dragon. Desmire snarled at the king’s presence, blasting fire in his direction. Suddenly, Desmire closed his snout when the queen took a step beside the king. She wore a light blue gown with off-the-shoulder sleeves and white diamonds dripping from the tight bodice down to the grass. She screamed with tears in her eyes and fell like she was in pain.
The beast beneath us shuddered in pain. But with my friends on his back, and Verin distracted by the queen, it was our only time to escape.
“We must go, Desmire. We will come back for her, and I will make all this right,” I vowed, and hesitating, he spread his wings and took off. The farther we got from the palace, the more pain I sensed in my dragon’s heart. He and the queen loved each other, which confirmed some suspicions I had.
“The librarian said you needed to see this.” Rune tapped my shoulder and handed me a book.
The wind was merciless against the pages, though I managed to block most of the heavy gusts behind Desmire’s neck. It had a purple cover and a tassel wrapped on a hook with a little white gem in the middle. I gasped. It was the queen’s journal, one she had written before she married Verin and had the princess.
He made me feel so safe and cherished. He didn’t want me for my power or title as queen. He wanted me for me.
I wasn’t in love with his brother. That man was cold and deceiving, only working toward his own personal agenda in courting me. One man I had to be with for the courts to hold peace between our people.
Why I couldn’t do the same thing with his brother was absurd, but their father knew Lachan would be a more wicked king than my love. My mate.
I despised the sneaking around with the warrior, who’s eyes of smoke consumed me. It was the only way to be together.
For I was not willing to let him go, to give up love for power.
My mate was power, my match in every way.
For what would better suit a core of diamond than that of a dragon and an onyx core, beating in one body.
My mate. My Desmire.
Chapter Forty-Nine
The portal to the human realm in the red tree would not be able to handle the size of a dragon. Thankfully Dris knew of another way, flying for half an hour to the sea, then we’d turn back toward the middle of the continent.
This time, I saw what a Fae portal looked like . . . shimmery, like a heavy rain falling.
We stopped just after the crossing through the cave that led to the ocean, collecting our bearings. Rune and Emrys went through the bag of armor and weapons, while Desmire sat near the cliff overlooking the water and the slowly descending sun.
With the queen’s journal in my hand, I walked up to Dris and hugged her tightly.
“Did you show them the journal entry you marked for me?” I whispered, hoping it was low enough to be just between us.
“No,” she replied and the tension in my shoulders released.
Desmire and the queen had been in love—mates. My dragon friend wastheDesmire.
Dris and I knew who the onyx core belonged to now, but what she didn’t know was the little details in the memory I’d had from the princess before she was put in the tomb. She had said “father” and then “king” separately. She knew Verin was not her actual dad.
Desmire was her father. The queen married Verin, for whatever reason, but she was no more than a wife in name to him. Her heart and soul belonged to the dragon who looked at the water clashing against the rocks.
“But the records book said Desmire died, and he didn’t have a core of onyx.” I pulled back, whispering so the boys wouldn’t hear.
“I think someone covered up the truth and replaced reality with their own agenda, hiding something larger than we knew. He was a Fae, and with magic gone, stuck as a dragon.” Dris’s face was grim and pale.
Someone didn’t want us to know about Desmire, about his cores, or that he was even alive. Immediately I thought this was Verin’s handiwork, but after reading just that one entry in the queen’s journal and seeing them together, I wondered if she was the one who covered it up to protect him and allowed Verin to think that her love—his brother—was dead.
So many secrets, so many lies.
“That’s probably why he’s been helping you so much. He knows you’re the only hope he has at getting his daughter out of the onyx . . . the onyx he placed her in to save her.” Dris finally understood that the princess was Desmire’s, not Verin’s, daughter. A deep breath released from her lungs, and she sounded like how I felt, blown away and tired from this life of secrecy.
The constant revelations and surprises cast my way were exhausting. I wanted to sleep, and just pretend it wasn’t any of my business. Only it was, I stood at the heart of this whole thing, and I’d come too far to turn back.
