CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
The sky is full of black dragons. Wings boom behind me like thunder. Seated on Draven’s back, I grip the spikes in front of me tightly as he starts swooping downwards slightly as we draw closer to our target. He is flying at the head of his army, with Galen and Lyra behind him. Alistair, who apparently somehow managed to survive the meeting with Lyra’s five brothers unharmed, is seated on her back.
Behind us, the rest of the soldiers from the Black Dragon Clan are spread out like a massive cloak. Even though Draven is not using his magic right now, it feels as if we are towing a dark thunderstorm behind us.
The feeling is awe-inspiring. I’ve always known that Draven and his clan are powerful. But now, I canfeelit. When they’re gathered in full force like this and are flying in formation, the world itself seems to tremble.
Despite that, however, we are still vastly outnumbered against the Silver Clan. Draven explained that the Icehearts have deliberately forced all the other clans to keep their number of soldiers few. It forces them to instead rely on the Dread Legion,which is the combined armies of all the clans, for any military purposes. The only exception is of course the Silver Clan, who has been training a huge number of soldiers to dissuade the other clans from trying to challenge them.
Which is why we desperately need our allies. With the Black Clan joined by the Purple Clan, the Orange Clan, and the Blue Clan, we will have almost as many soldiers as the Silver Clan. Unfortunately, their ice flames still give them a massive advantage. But if we can get most of the dragon shifters on our side to form union bonds with fae, it should increase our own advantage enough that we will at least be evenly matched.
Should. Goddess, I hate that word.
Draven lets out a roar, though it sounds more like a greeting than a challenge.
It snaps me out of my worried thoughts, and I blink and push a few strands of hair out of my face before leaning forward slightly to look down at the ground.
Twelve figures are standing down there on the grass. Ten of them remain behind the faintly shimmering wards of the Unseelie Court while the two at the front stride out into the grasslands outside the wards.
Isera and Orion.
Wind streams through my hair and clothes as Draven dives towards them. The rest of his clan follow.
The ten guards from the Unseelie Court who remain behind the wards jerk back slightly at the sight, but Orion and Isera only come to a halt on the grass and track us with their gazes.
We’re supposed to meet the other dragon clans outside the Seelie Court soon, but Draven said that he wanted to head to the Unseelie Court first.
The ground trembles as Draven in his huge dragon form lands on the grass. I quickly slide down from his back while Galen and Lyra land as well. Black smoke spreads across theground as Draven shifts. I can’t see it, but I’m assuming that Alistair has climbed down from Lyra’s back as well, because more black smoke billows out from their direction.
More loud thuds sound as the rest of their clan reaches the ground behind them as well. They don’t shift, though. When the smoke blows clear, Draven is in his half-shift form while Galen and Lyra are in their human forms. Behind us, the grasslands are now filled with black dragons.
Light from the midday sun shines down over the two fae standing before us. Isera is once again wearing her black fighting leathers, and she looks more like herself now. Though, she tends to always look calm and composed, regardless of how she’s really feeling, so it’s hard to tell if she has truly recovered from the avalanche of emotions that hit her after she finally took her revenge on Bane.
Beside her, Orion is standing with his back straight and his gleaming black crown on his head. As usual, he is wearing fancy formal garments in dark blue and black, with some touches of silver. His long dark blue hair cascades down over his shoulders and all the way to his ribs, falling like a smooth waterfall. The silver thread decorating his black eyepatch gleams faintly in the light as he cocks his head and narrows his remaining eye at Draven.
“So, you found your clan?” he drawls. “Congratulations.”
“I did,” Draven confirms as we come to a halt a few steps away from them.
Orion gives Draven a cold smile. “And now you want me to… what? House them all in my court so that you don’t have to fly all the way back and forth between your islands and the battlefield?”
“No.”
“Oh?” He arches a dark eyebrow, that hard and lethal edge still in his voice. “Then why have you brought your entire army to my doorstep?”
“Because I have come to ask you a question, Unseelie King.” Draven draws himself up to his full height. “Never, in our entire history, has the Black Dragon Clan had any riders. We never formed a single partnership with anyone in the Seelie Court. Ever.”
“I’m aware of the pride you take in the fact that you never had any riders. Are you saying that you are refusing to form union bonds even now?”
“No. I’m saying that we will only do it with someone who is worthy of our trust.”
Orion let’s out a cold laugh. “Good luck finding someone like that.”
“I already have.” Draven’s eyes glint like gold as he holds the Unseelie King’s stare with a steady gaze. “Orion Nightbane, on behalf of the Black Dragon Clan, I have come to formally ask the Unseelie Court to join us in an unprecedented partnership and form union bonds with us.”
Shock crackles across Orion’s beautiful face, and he staggers a step back. Blinking, he just stares at Draven in stunned silence. Next to him, Isera only watches them both with a satisfied smile faintly curving her lips while Orion’s ten guards exchange stunned looks behind the wards.
“You…” Orion begins. Clearing his throat, he straightens and gives his head a quick shake. Once he has composed himself again, he narrows his eye at Draven while a hint of guarded hope and disbelief blows across his features. “You would trust us with this? You would trust me and the Unseelie Court with your lives? After everything we have done?”
