Page 123 of A War of Three Kings

“Istillcan’t believe you recruited dragons, Cyprien. Dragons! You are as insane as the Tuatha Dé Danann. That is somethingtheywould do.” Drake sloshes his drink over the rim of his mug as he sits heavily, then pulls Klara into his lap. Their display of affection makes me feel a little less self-conscious about being wrapped up in Aldrin’s arms.

“And why not?” Cyprien leans forward, frowning at Drake. “Ezekiel’s clan has always been loyal to us. Besides, it is satisfying to witness the enemy’s terror at the very sight of them on the battlefield.” A wicked smile curls his lips.

“Are there dragons in the Tuatha Dé Danann’s realm?” I ask.

“That is where the dragons originate from—the realm of our gods,” Aldrin says. All eyes turn to him. I hold my breath, and I’m sure Caitlin and my father do too; this is the first time we are hearing of this. “The dragons of my world are merely a shadow of those from their home realm. Tiny and powerless in comparison. Dragons need the connection to their realm to thrive, just as we fae do, otherwise they fade with time and each passing generation. Some of Ezekiel’s ancestors were as big as castles and powerful enough to shatter worlds.”

“There! That is another reason why we shouldn’t ride gods-damned dragons!” Drake cuts in, pointing at Aldrin. He turns to Cyprien again. “I can’t believe you recruited dragons!”

Cyprien’s eyes dance with mischievous light. “I can’t believe you weren’t swallowed whole by one.”

Drake’s protests are drowned out by our chorus of laughter. It feels so good to let go and make light of the horrendous shadow of war that hangs over us all.

“The two of you must have nerves of steel.” Klara’s purple eyes bore into me, then my father. “I have never known of someone meeting a dragon for the first time and not weeping in terror?—”

“I know I did,” Drake mutters.

“—let alone leaping on their back and flying straight into battle,” Klara finishes.

“I may have lost my head in that battle,” my father concedes, right as Hawthorne arrives with a jug of cider and tops up our mugs.

“I can drink to that!” Aldrin calls out, and everyone holds up their mugs and cheers.

“Wait. Wait. The one irony I can’t get past,” Caitlin shouts over the top of them, “is that Drake isliterallynamed after dragons.”

We erupt with laughter. Giggles bubble out of me long after the others have finished. There is a lightness in my soul that I haven’t felt for a long time.

Drake spreads his arms wide and shrugs. “What can I say? I’m a complex man. And a smart one, if I may add.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Klara agrees.

My father leans in closer to me, his gaze darting between me and Caitlin. “Have either of you seen your brother?”

“He said he would take the druid’s vigil and be born again with the dawn,” I murmur back.

Caitlin rolls her eyes. “What does that even mean? And why do they need to climb to the heights of a mountain to do it?”

I scan the steep rocks and rough peaks of the mountains cast in the heavy shadows of night. It must be cold and lonely up there, but I guess that is the point. “I think they do it for quietcontemplation or reflection. I don’t know. The druids are too secretive.”

“I would have preferred him to stay close,” my father grunts. “In case the enemy attacks.”

My heart skips a beat. “Do you think it’s likely?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I have no idea what they are planning. Our eyes and ears in the South have gone quiet.”

Cyprien crosses the space before the bonfire and takes a seat beside Caitlin. He stares at her, frowning profusely for a long moment, before finally speaking. “I apologize for bringing up women’s business, and I hope you don’t mind the intrusion, but I—you see, I thought it would be prudent if—I don’t want to make assumptions, but I arranged…” His words trail off to silence and he seems at a complete loss for how to continue.

“You arranged what, Cyprien?” Caitlin narrows her eyes at him, not understanding his discomfort.

Klara stalks over. “He brought a fae midwife into this realm for your impending labor. You will be due in less than two months.” Her purple eyes run across Caitlin’s large, rounded belly. “Considering the sire of the child, it would be better to have healers of both races present.”

“Keep your voice down,” Caitlin hisses, glancing around frantically. “That is a well-guarded secret for good reason.”

I place a comforting hand on her lap while she closes her eyes and composes herself. “No one can hear,” I whisper. My heart breaks at the look of dread and panic on her face. At the thought of who she fears will find out the race of their child’s sire.

Caitlin lets out a shaky breath. “Thank you, Cyprien. It is very kind of you.”

He gives a curt nod, then gets up and stalks away. It must be triggering for him, considering his own wife died in childbirth. Aldrin’s sister.

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