Gods, how did I win a mate as fierce as Larellin? How did I ever deserve such a boon? I’ve pondered this many times over the past few days and come to the only decision that makes anysense to me—my mother chose her. From her place with the eternal, my mother somehow knew this feisty little mortal would be my match. I feel it in my heart, the resonance of the truth like a steady, pleasing musical note.
“I understand, my treasure.” I ride the wind lower, passing over a few more ruined villages and farms, the lands growing wild and untamed.
“This is going to be a lot of work,” Faraday sighs. “So much has gone to dust.”
“The remaining DragonKin will return, and with them, we will rebuild.” Rivon is a dark smudge to my right, his shadows cloaking him despite the bright sun. “The Firefolk, too. And all the others who used to live and work alongside us. We will be a kingdom again.”
A kingdom. A word that gives me a multitude of mixed emotions. I’m the eldest of the Golden Dragon line, but I’ve long believed I’m far too unworthy to ever claim the DragonKin crown. Not after what happened. Not after the curse. And now? I don’t know.
“I’d look amazing in a crown,” Larellin teases.
“Now who’s reading whose thoughts?”
She stretches out along my hide, her warm body soft against my rough skin. Even feeling her like this heats my blood, makes me think of the hours of pleasure I’ve already had between her thighs, and the lifetime of pleasure that awaits me there.
When I catch the first glimpse of the Palace of the Sky, an ache seizes my heart. Strong enough to kill a mortal, the pain is sharp but thankfully fleeting. Replaced with nostalgia, with a thousandhappy memories of times spent in its golden spires and the gardens that are now overgrown with flowers and vines.
“Wow.” Larellin leans forward, awe filtering down the bond to me. “I’ve never … How … This castle is bigger than my entire village.”
The palace has three sections, each topped with its own twisting golden spire. The center is the tallest, several hundred feet high. The structure is sweeping, constructed of white godsbone. “We lived in the western tower. Those are the royal chambers. The center tower was for the peoples of the DragonLands—courts, feast halls, sporting areas, guest rooms, and several ceremonial rooms. The eastern tower housed the great library, classrooms, the alchemist labs, the many forges, and all the magical elements and storerooms. It was a university open to all who would learn and respect the ways of the DragonKin.”
“A university?” Larellin tries to hide her puzzlement. “I mean, of course, yes. A university.”
“Are there no universities in the mortal realm?”
“Maybe, but not for the likes of me.”
I snort. “Everything here is for you, Larellin. Anything you desire. If you want to learn alchemy or magic, the history of the DragonKin, the history of Oblivion—it’s all here.” I float lower, the palace looming huge below us, sun reflecting off the familiar spires.
“How does the palace still look so … nice?”
“It’s constructed of godsbone. Stronger than obsidian and imbued with magic. I don’t know for certain, but I assume it hasfended off the ravages of time for the most part. It—” A pall falls over me. “—it looks exactly as it did the last time I saw it.”
“Hey.” Her tone is gentle. “We’re here together. You and me. Your brothers. You don’t have to do any of this alone. All right?”
“So, the center part is where I live, right?” Faraday drops beside me, floating on the same current of wind. “It might not be big enough, but I figure?—”
“Dibs.” Fyan floats at my other side.
Rivon appears beside Faraday, his wings absorbing the sun.
“You can’t call dibs when I was already talking about living there. The big one is for me. You can have one of the small ones,” Faraday chides.
“The westernmost spire contains the royal household,” Rivon says patiently. “That is where?—”
“Yeah, but Vander’s the king. That means he lives there. I want?—”
“The western spire has over one-hundred bedrooms,” Rivon cuts in. “That is where we will reside.”
“Hear that?” Fyan asks Faraday. “You’ll reside in the western tower with the rest of us, oh high and mighty silver dragon.”
“Maybe you’ll reside in the garbage heap,” Faraday quips.
Fyan snarls. “Maybe I’ll bite off a piece of your wing and?—”
“Brothers.” I know they’re on edge. We all are.
“Ooohh, are your brothers fighting?” Larellin asks. “I can tell when you go quiet with me you’re talking to them, and whenyou feel sort of pissy it’s because of them too. Actually, when you’re angry or laughing, most of the time it’s because of them.”
