Alaric wasn’t merely a dragon, but a cursed shifter. Forced to remain in his beast form. In my mind, that made him a man. Not a wounded animal, as I was led to believe. He was a man with intellect, mortal desires, and a conscience.
And he’d chosen to deceive me. My heart twisted at the thought.
And then there was Thorne.
Flarking Thorne.
The dusting of scales across his shoulders, the fire he breathed, those unnervingly perfect features. Though he hadn’tadmitted it, I was certain he was a shifter too. A Draconis, like Alaric. Likely related. Was anything they’d told me the truth?’
And then there was this place, this hidden kingdom under the mountain. The two of them had been here before. I was sure of it.
Did they think I was too simple to uncover their ruse? A former slave who would fall at their feet, willing to believe any tall tale they spun?
In a short time, they’d learned a lot about me. It was only fair that I knew the same about them.
From the moment I woke in this place, Alaric and Thorne held all the power. They claimed my life belonged to the dragon—dictating where I could go, what I could do.
Well, no more.
I was done playing by their rules.
“Come on, Sebastian.” I slipped into the corridor outside my bedroom, my furry partner close at my side. My ears twitched, picking up little but the harsh sound of my own breathing. With any luck, everyone was asleep at this hour.
Solar crystals glowed from the walls and ceiling, illuminating my path. Mystical objects that would have been banned among the Puritans. The idea this place existed mere miles from our village would have thrown them into hysterics. I pried one of them from the wall to use during my search, tucking it into the pocket of my borrowed pants.
On silent feet, I slipped down the hallway, headed into the unseen depths of the castle.
Broken statues littered the floor. I paused next to one. In the pile of rubble was a shattered bust, a stone crown resting on its fractured head. Half of his face was missing. I smoothed my finger along his cheek, the set of his eyes somehow familiar.
A prickle ran down my neck, gooseflesh chasing up my arms. The sense I was being watched pressed down on me. I rose to my feet, dusted my hands, and glanced behind me.
Nothing stirred.
Who knew how many lost souls lingered in these hallways?
Better keep moving. I continued down the corridor, carefully stepping over the skeletal remains of some poor soul. What could have happened here to have caused so much death and destruction?
An image of my own village flickered through my mind, and I quickened my pace, cautious not to disturb the dead. Finally, I came upon a set of massive doors. One hung drunkenly on its heavy hinges.
“What do you suppose is in here?” I asked Sebastian.
“Mew,” he answered, eyes round.
“Let’s take a look, shall we?” I slipped through the gap and froze. Awe stole my breath. Shelves of books several stories high spanned the walls. This library was further proof that this lost empire was a wealthy one. I found few books the Puritans deemed appropriate for reading. Those treasured items, the high ruler kept in his private collection.
Fortunately, Yaga had a few in her hidden stash and insisted I learn how to read. For the most part, her volumes were innocent, containing information about herbal remedies. All but one. That one rare gem spoke of magic. Even that singular book would have seen Yaga banished from the village, never to return.
While the books here claimed my interest, I couldn’t ignore the tapestry that hung on the wall. In one, a youthful king sat on his throne, his royal face expressionless. However, it wasn’t the king who made me gasp. It was the throne carved into the base of a massive tree.
A sacred arbor.
“Sebastian.” My breath caught. “Do you know what this means?”
“Mew.” He tilted his head.
“This lost kingdom was once part of the Arbor Realms.” I’d read about them in Yaga’s forbidden book.
Unimpressed, Sebastian leapt onto a nearby podium, plopping his furry butt on an open text, cleaning his paw.
