At least I didn’t have to wonder about his identity. “Professor Taron Locke,” I muttered into the wind, as if speaking his name might summon him, allowing me to deal with the problem at last.
Nope. He didn’t appear.
I stood on the edge of my personal balcony, the highest point of Castle Ashmorra. No rail separated the ledge from the ether; when you could fly, you didn’t need one. A light breeze perfumed with linden blossoms and wild chamomile tugged strands of hair free from a myriad of pins. The crimson hue blended with the sunrise until it looked as if my entire body might ignite in soft fire. The illusion strengthened as the hem of my scarlet gown danced at my ankles.
I scanned my queendom, a dimension stitched like the finest silk to the human world. Below me, molten spires and ancient ruins coiled together in a symphony of gold. Crystalline rivers wound through obsidian meadows that bloomed year-round with violet emberlilies and white ashorchids. Berserkers trained on a soot-streaked field dotted with mist-veiled ghost trees. Mothers and children swam in a lake the same color as skyglass, while twin suns rose in a slow, simmering dawn, casting streaks of lavender across an expanse of dark blue.
A dragon-berserker paradise. My sanctuary, and a myth made real. We lived hidden here. Warded from shifters intent on our destruction and humans who’d never forgotten the hell reigned upon them by my father, King Cedric. The primordial of dragon-berserker kind.
So, how was Taron Locke visiting for short bursts of time? How had he found a way onto my land without alerting the elite soldiers stationed at the borders? How had he passed through the traveling stones, often deadly to mortals?
Was he here even now?
An electric hum curled through the air, instantly fraying my nerves. A summoning.
Tension worked through my limbs. Nein, he wasn’t here. Wherever he was, Professor Locke had just donned the Chains of O.
A compulsion to fly to him consumed me, my cells fizzing with urgency. I almost gave in. Took every scrap of willpower I possessed to remain rooted in place. Foolish human. Did hewantto die?
“Don’t you dare go to him.” My sister’s voice came from behind me, as dry as stardust. “You are Olyssa Drachenveil, Queen of Dragons, Temptress of Smoke and Starlight, Empress of the Berserkatrix, Iciest of the Ice Maidens, blah, blah, blah. Mystical chains are no match for you. Mostly, I’m in no mood to deal with centuries of your guilt after you fry another Locke.”
Thankfully, her arrival distracted me from the pull. I turned to face her with an arched brow. “You sense the Chains of O, too?”
“I’m multi-talented.” Adelaide the Untouchable claimed the spot at my side. “For the good of all, resist its allure.”
“You don’t understand,” I grumbled. Adelaide had yet to go head-to-head with our family’s curse: to meet her fated firebrand and remain tormented until she either made him immortal in her firestorm or burned him to ashes.
I had lived it, hundreds of years ago, on the day of my wedding. Leopold Locke, my mortal firebrand and the only man to ever win my heart, had died in my inferno.
And now the cycle had begun anew, the chains once again in play.
I ground my teeth.Resist!
Adelaide bumped my shoulder with her own. “By the way, you do know the name of the cuffs makes them sound like some sort of sex toy, ja?”
“They do not,” I gasped out. But, um, did they?
She snorted. “Hello, denial.”
One year younger than me, Adelaide was a lovely woman, with our mother’s delicate features, silken sable tresses and glittering emerald eyes. I’d inherited our father’s sharp cheekbones, mass of red curls and eerie silver irises. With various hues of my smoke, I could temporarily change my hair to whatever shade I desired.
The pull to Taron increased, and I dug in my heels, gritting my teeth.
“I see torment brewing in you already.” Adelaide placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Remember, the guilt belongs to the Lockes, not you. They acted. You reacted.”
“But I’m the one forced to live with the memories.” The cadence of Leopold’s agonized scream had only worsened over the centuries as I’d added the chorus of his descendants. Even now, guilt and shame flooded me. Maybe if I’d loved my Leo more. Softened my heart to him faster. Defeated all my fears first.
“You carry a guilt that doesn’t belong to you,” she insisted. “They forced your hand. If only the chains stopped returning to the Lockes every time you obtain them, the madness would end. But onward and upward. Didn’t you send a soldier to follow Professor Locke to find out how he’s sneaking into our realm?”
“I did. Matthias.” A noble soldier. Fierce, loyal and capable. “His newest report came in three days ago. For the past several weeks, Locke has been at work or home but nowhere else.”
“Hmm. Our most recent theft happened only two days ago.”
My poor teacup. “I don’t understand the discrepancy, either.” But somehow, Taronwastraversing Ashmorra.
Frowning, Adelaide whipped out her phone, tapping at the keyboard. “Taron Locke. Mid-thirties. Brilliant historian specializing in ancient mythology. American professor of dragon lore.” Pause. “He hasn’t missed a day of work in eight months.” She canted her head. “Maybe he has a secret identical twin, and that’s who is doing all the sneaking and stealing.”
“Maybe.” But if there were two versions of Taron Locke… I shuddered. Unlike his father and grandfather, he hated dragon-berserkers. He’d written multiple scathing academic publications espousing the evil of mythological dragons and how the spirit of our greed and malice had infected modern society.
