Page 16 of The Flame King's Queen

I smile at my mate. “I knew your scent had changed right before you stepped through the portal, but I’m such a stupid Alpha that I didn’t realize what it meant. A king who doesn’t know his queen is pregnant. The bards will sing songs about this and chant my idiocy in every tavern.”

Isavelle laughs again. “You are not stupid, Zabriel. You told me my scent was different, but I didn’t realize what it meant either. We were in the midst of a rescue. A successful rescue, I’ll have you know. I received the reports from your soldiers about the villages that were evacuated. They made it to every single village on the list. All your people have made it safely back to this world.”

“Our people,” I murmur.

“Our people. I hope the bards sing that song as well.”

We lay in comfortable silence for some time, and my mind drifts through recent events. What I wished I’d done differently. What surprised me.

Esmeral, she surprised me.

“Your little dragon saved my life. Did she tell you?”

Isavelle looks up. “No, she didn’t. How did she save you?”

“She was a very clever little dragon and crept up on Leibel and Elysant as they nervously watched the skies. Another dragon could not have done such a thing. Would not have even thought of such a thing.”

“Then she deserves a whole cartload of chicken necks to feast upon. I shall be sure to praise her to the moon and back when I go down to the dragongrounds in the morning. All the dragons should know how she saved the king’s life.”

I smile, and another memory rises to the surface. As I flew on Esmeral, my senses were overwhelmed with the metallic scent of blood, but something else as well. A scent very like the one Isavelle carries now. “Do you know, I think Esmeral might lay a clutch of eggs soon.”

I feel Isavelle lift her head. “Really? Did her scent change?”

“I think so. I will know for sure when I’m able to walk to the dragongrounds.”

“How long will that be?”

I muse on this. “Three days. Perhaps four.” I will be uncomfortable and restless while these bones knit themselves back together, but at least the period will be brief.

“Impressive. In my village, it took many weeks to heal broken bones.”

“Dragon magic is powerful, but I’m sure with the right spell, a witch could heal broken bones just as well.”

“If she is the right kind of witch. Ravenna might be able to do it. I doubt it will ever be something I am capable of. It’s very different from the magic I’m able to do.” Isavelle tangles her fingers through mine, and we watch her slender digits moving against my large, rough ones. There’s a long silence, and I know we’re both thinking the same thing. About that dark place where I was trapped, hovering over my own body.

“You brought me back, didn’t you?” I ask. “From death. I wasn’t hallucinating. You were there.”

“Yes,” she says softly. “Zabriel, it was horrible. You were in so much pain, and thatthingwas everywhere inside you. It was the lich, wasn’t it? When you woke up, your eyes were full of its sickly green magic.”

I will destroy everyone you have ever cared about, and then I will go on living forever and ever because I will win. I will always win. I am unkillable.

It wanted to live through me. I shudder inwardly of the violence and destruction it could have wrought on all the people I care about if Isavelle had brought me back with that thing still inside me.

I press a kiss to her brow. “My mate has brought me home twice now. Once from beneath the mountain. Once from the other side. Not even death can keep my Omega from me. As soon as I have my strength back, I will gather my army and fly south. We will drive our enemies from Maledin once and for all. I will make this land into the home you and my baby deserve.”

8

Isavelle

“Are you certain that it’s safe for us? We do not possess dragon blood as you do, Isavelle.”

Dad hesitates on the bridge to the dragongrounds, gazing at the several dozen enormous bodies in the golden morning light. Anise is more eager, bouncing on her toes at the end of the bridge, her hands clasped together in excitement. I thought I would have had time to visit the dragons, but there was so much work to do making the villagers comfortable in the castle and planning their return to their homes.

Fiala and Dusan are with us, both dressed in their wingrunner uniforms and holding their halberds. There has been no sign of traitors within the castle. No sightings of Elysant that didn’t prove to be rumors or mistakes. There aren’t even any anti-witch posters appearing around the city.

Everything feels strangely calm.

The hour is so early that many of the dragons haven’t yet risen and stretched their wings. Others are play fighting, their jaws stretched wide as they mouth at each other and send clouds of dust into the sky. I left Zabriel sleeping deeply in our bed. The process of healing so rapidly from his injuries has exhausted him, and he has been asleep for more hours than he’s been awake.

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