“In the lounge,” she said, tossing the broken glass into the bucket beside her. “Down the hall, first door on the left. Try not to make her any angrier. We’re running out of furniture.”
There was no way he could promise that, so Julius just thanked his sister and walked through the door she’d indicated, carefully stepping over the rest of the broken glass as he made his way deeper into the Heartstriker’s lair.
He didn’t have to go far. Despite being the private quarters of the (former) head of the largest dragon clan in the world, Bethesda’s apartments were still situated at the peak of a thorn-like mountain. That didn’t leave much space for extra rooms once you accounted for her egg-laying chamber and private gold vault. Julius had actually been hoping he’d get to see that last one. He was still a dragon, after all, and the piles of gold Bethesda famously liked to lounge on were the stuff of legend. Unfortunately for his curiosity, his mother was exactly where Frieda had said she’d be: sprawled on a leather fainting couch in a smoky, red-velvet-covered room that, though ripped in places, was still mostly intact.
This was an improvement over the hurricane-level destruction of the entry room. After looking around, though, Julius couldn’t help but wish she’d wrecked this room as well. Maybe if she’d beaten the velvet couches and copious nude paintings a bit more, he’d have been able to ignore the fact that he was basically standing in what could only be described as his mother’s boudoir. It didn’t help that the silk dressing gown she was wearing fit the scene perfectly, falling off her shoulders in a way that didn’t quite leave her naked, but still revealed way more of his mother than Julius wouldeverbe comfortable seeing. Which, knowing Bethesda, was precisely why she’d worn it.
“Well, well, well,” she growled, her green eyes glowing in the low light. “My illustrious co-ruler arrives at last.”
Julius sighed. He’d known this wouldn’t be easy, but he’d hoped his mother’s natural lust for power would encourage her to at least try working within the new system, if only to figure out how to game it. Clearly, even that was too optimistic. Bethesda didn’t look ready to do anything except eat him alive. She was also, he realized suddenly, not alone.
“You know David, of course,” she said, waving her hand at the dragon sitting in the enormous armchair in the corner. “Senator of New Mexico.”
“Of course,” Julius said. Other than Bethesda, David—a five-term senator and the first dragon ever to be elected to public office in the United States—was the most famous Heartstriker, at least among mortals. He played the part perfectly, too. Where most dragons did everything they could to emphasize their position at the top of the food chain, David did the opposite. His smile was trustworthy rather than predatory, and his dark hair had been dyed strategically gray at the temples to make him look less eternally young. Like all dragons, he was still ridiculously handsome, but in an approachable way, the kind of man you’d trust to look after your house, or your country. But unlike the rest of the voting population, Julius was also a dragon. Good as the ruse was, he could spot the hunter’s gleam in David’s bright-green eyes as he stood up to offer Julius his hand.
“I’m happy to meet you at last,” he said warmly, giving Julius a crushing handshake. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“I’m sure you have,” Julius said, glancing at his mother, who bared her teeth. “But, um, this is supposed to be a Council meeting, so—”
“Why do you think he’s here?” Bethesda snapped, giving Julius the look she saved for her especially stupid children. “He’s going to be our third seat.”
Julius jerked in surprise. “What?”
“I was honored to be asked,” David said, his deep voice smooth as silk. “And delighted to accept. I’m happy to do whatever I can to aid our clan in these troubled times.”
“Spoken like a true politician,” Bethesda said proudly. “But you can drop the act, dear. It’s only Julius.”
David flashed their mother a smile that almost, but didn’t quite, reach his eyes. Julius, however, was putting a stop to this right now.
“I’m happy you’re not fighting the Council anymore,” he said to his mother, pulling out the folded-up charter Bob had just given him. “But you can’t just make David part of the Council. It clearly says right here that the third seat must to be elected by a majority vote of the—”
“But that’s ridiculous,” Bethesda scoffed. “I’m still sealed, and I don’t getunsealeduntil this stupid Council is complete. David is more than qualified. He’s also the highest-ranking Heartstriker without a Fang other than Amelia, and his popularity with the upper alphabet clutches gives him loads of internal support.” She flashed her son a proud smile. “He was actually my second suspect for potential coups after Amelia, but you and Bob beat him to the punch.”
David chuckled. “You should thank them for that, Mother.Iwas planning to kill you in your sleep.”
“I almost wish you had,” Bethesda said. “At leastyouwould have managed a proper draconic overthrow instead of this mess.”
They both had a good laugh over that, and Julius, who already felt sick to his stomach, decided to just move on. “It doesn’t matter how good he is or how much support he’s got,” he said firmly. “There still has to be a vote.”
“And there will be,” Bethesda said. “Or haven’t you noticed the Heartstriker migration?” She gestured at the boudoir’s tiny window, where the shadows of dragon wings flickered almost constantly in the morning light. “I called everyone in last night. By noon, the whole clan should be assembled. Once I’ve got everyone together, I’ll explain what happened, tell everyone how to vote, and this Council nonsense will be resolved.” She grinned. “I’ll have my wings back by sunset. Assuming the bag of hot air I call daughter can actually undo the seal she put on me.”
That was a far more sensible plan than Julius had expected from his mother, but there was still one problem. “You can’t just tell everyone about the open Council seat and then have the vote immediately,” he said. “What if someone wants to run against David?”
Bethesda shrugged. “Not my problem.”
“Yes, your problem,” Julius snapped. “The entire point of this Council is to let Heartstrikers choose who we want to lead us. That can’t happen if you’re just appointing people.”
“Oh, Julius,” Bethesda drawled. “You say that like I should care. But this is your dream, not mine. The only reason I’m playing along at all is because I’d rather have a little power than none. If you wanted all these lofty ideals, you should have been here fighting for them, not gallivanting around with your little mortal girlfriend. Butno.You were off playing whileIwas runningmyclan.”
“I wasn’t here because we had a meeting this morning,” he growled, trying his best to stay calm. “And you shouldn’t have been doing anything withourclan to begin with. Not without informing me first.”
“Like you know anything about what it means to be the Heartstriker,” his mother scoffed. “I bet you don’t even know how many dragons we have.”
He couldn’t answer that, and Bethesda smiled cruelly. “Thought so.”
Julius clenched his fists. Ten minutes into their first meeting, and things were already spinning out of his control. But it was always this way. Even now that they were technically equals, talking to his mother still made him feel like a hunted animal. But while Julius wanted nothing more than to turn around and walk out, he didn’t have the luxury of running this time. This Council was the culmination of everything he’d fought for. It was the chance at a better future he’d made everyone suffer to create, especially Marci, and Julius would keep his mother from riding roughshod over it if it was the very last thing he did. He was about to tell her as much when David cleared his throat.
“Though she’s wrong in her motives, Mother does have a point,” he said in a politic voice. “I would love nothing more than to give all of Heartstriker a chance to properly consider their options, but we simply don’t have the time. By her contract of surrender, Bethesda’s power as the Heartstriker is now divided evenly among the three Council members. Unfortunately, this means that, until that final seat is filled and the Heartstriker Council is complete, we can’t make any clan decisions. That’s a dangerous liability on a good day, but with Algonquin’s declaration of war last night, it could be a catastrophic one.”
