Page 62 of The Flame King's Queen

“And stay away!” one of the dragonriders shouts after him, and everyone laughs.

Stesha isn’t far away from me, and I stroll over to him. “What do you make of that?”

“Better than I expected,” Stesha finally admits. “But he took too long, and if they don’t come back for the next event, I won’t cry about it.”

I doubt anyone will.

The Temple Crone calls, “Queen Isavelle and the dragon Esmeral.”

As my mate takes a breath and prepares herself, I lean down and kiss her. She wraps her arms around my neck and squeezes me.

“Any last words of advice for me?”

“These games are for you. You are my victor and my queen and the most wonderful woman in the world.”

She laughs and kisses me. “That’s not advice. That’s flattery.”

“It’s the truth in my heart. One day we’ll tell our son or daughter how their beautiful, brave mother took them flying in the Dragon Games, and they’ll be just as proud of you as I am.”

She plants a kiss on my nose and whispers, “I love you, Zabriel.”

Once she’s settled atop her dragon, she takes a deep breath, looks straight ahead, and she and Esmeral move toward the cliff face. The namyr begins, and Esmeral shakes her head several times as if a fly is bothering her. Isavelle is able to soothe her, and they collect flags. When the second namyr starts to play, Esmeral slows down, but keeps moving. When the third namyr joins the howl, she cringes toward the ground.

They’re so close to finishing. I clench my fists tightly, willing the little dragon to hold on a little longer if she can.

The pair collect two more flags, but it’s clear that Esmeral is struggling and becoming distressed. Isavelle leans forward over her dragon’s neck. Then she slides to the ground, hurries around, and takes Esmeral’s head between her hands, covering the sensitive membrane over her ears. The namyr players cease.

“My dragon refused to forfeit, but I’m withdrawing us,” she calls out to the Temple Crone.

“Very well done, Queen Isavelle. Bring your flags back to be counted.”

As Isavelle leads Esmeral back to us, the little dragon’s head is hanging low. Isavelle has her hand resting on the dragon’s neck, and she’s murmuring soft words. As soon as she hands her flags over to a Temple Mother, I go over to my mate and her dragon.

“She didn’t want to let me down, but the music was hurting her,” Isavelle explains. “She’s ashamed that we weren’t able to do any better than Kane and Auryn.”

I take Esmeral’s lowered head in my hands and stroke my thumbs across her jaw. “You’re a brave dragon who never wants to let your rider down. That is a precious and wonderful thing. Everyone knows you did your best.”

Esmeral’s sad eyes relent a little at my soft tone. Scourge has approached us as well. Her mate buffets his head lovingly against her, and I go on stroking her. Together, Scourge and I comfort and fuss over the Omega. She reminds me of Isavelle when she first came to my castle, so scared and uncertain. Eventually Esmeral’s muscles relax, and she lowers her hunched wings.

“Are you withdrawing from the Dragon Games altogether, Esmeral?” I ask, and wait for Isavelle to pose the question to her dragon.

The dragon’s beautiful head shoots up and she trills in defiance.

“Then your heart is as strong as any dragon’s in the king’s flare. You and Isavelle are proving yourselves by looking out for each other. I’m proud of you both.”

Isavelle twines her fingers through my hair and rests her cheek against my chest with a smile on her lips. “Thank you, Alpha. I’m proud of us, too.”

I smile down at her, admiring the sweet way she’s resting against me with her eyes closed. ThatThank you, Alphahas made my knot thicken and heat flush through my body.

I don’t realize that the Temple Crone is calling for Scourge and me until Isavelle lifts her head with a gasp. “Zabriel, it’s your turn.”

I’m still drifting on thoughts of bedding my mate. “Hm? What, our turn?”

“Quickly, go,” Isavelle laughs, pushing me toward my dragon. “Your scent is telling, Alpha, but you and I will have to wait until we’re alone.”

I grin and give her a swift, deep kiss, then climb up my dragon’s flank and into the saddle. I can feel my dragon’s determination to win as well as his desire to show the other dragons how calm and focused he can remain under duress.

When the namyr player begins, I focus on clearing my mind and keeping it calm as I quickly and methodically collect the flags. I can feel Scourge gnashing his teeth by the time the third namyr player enters the howl, but he doesn’t slow down, and he doesn’t reveal his irritation.

---