Page 31 of Dragon King's Cursed Mate

“All in due time, Oracle,” a voice whispered comfortingly.

The following day, she was glad to see that the rescued prisoners were back to their usual selves. They were laughing, talking, and working as though nothing had happened. Seraphina smiled to herself. She’d cast a little spell for each one of them to recover emotionally, as well as physically.

Dain and the brotherhood were spending their day scouting the area for spies and potential raid targets. She was glad because that gave her the opportunity to study the scrolls without distractions.

Seraphina took the scrolls out of their hiding spot and went into the temple, spreading them out on the altar with reverence. They had been created from dragon hide, shed byancient dragon shifters. It could only be written on by a high priestess using a talon dipped in dragon blood. They could not be destroyed by fire or water, and they wouldn’t ever get moldy or brittle.

“Show me what is hidden and let me see with clear eyes and mind. Guide me, as you have guided those before me,” she commanded loudly.

At first, the ancient writing made no sense. It was a combination of letters and simple designs that resembled hieroglyphs. She cleared her mind and focused only on the scrolls in front of her. Almost as if the pictures and letters rearranged themselves to resemble modern language, Seraphina could read the spells, lore, and messages that the high priestess had written.

Long ago, in the dawn of the rule of kings of the Drakon Realm the Goddess Elyria, the veiled mother, who is the goddess of life, land, and sacred bloodlines performed the Rite of Threnakar, the binding of blood and stone to protect the Drakon Realm from ruin. She’d bound the king’s line to the very essence of the land to protect it from corruption. As long as the rightful heir ruled with honor, the land would flourish.

Seraphina breathed in a long, steady breath. This was bigger than Wyrmhaven and all of the little outposts. This was about the entire shifter world, except for the realm that belonged to the King of Arkhadia. That lineage was destroyed a long time ago.

She continued reading.

The binding was not just a gift. It was a covenant between the realm and the rightful king. Should a false king take the throne, either one whose blood was not blessed or whose rule began by betrayal, the land would wither. The true heir would feel that in his bones, in his mind, and in his soul. The more corrupted the land became, the deeper the rightful king would fall into a darkness.

The binding spell the goddess used and had carved into the walls of the Temple of Threnaker had been copied under the translation of the legend. The words almost glowed as Seraphina studied them.

By earth and blood, stone and spirit, I bind thee.

So long as honor crowns thy head, the land shall rise with thee.

But should falsehood take root in thy halls,

The earth shall grieve, the rivers shall turn bitter,

And the heart of the true king shall bear the weight of the wounded land.

“The darkness he’s feeling may not be from Malakar directly, but from the land, as it has been corrupted. It also means that not only will Dain need to take back his throne of Wyrmhaven and smaller kingdoms around it, but he must reclaim all the kingdoms in the Drakon Realm.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “That’s not going to be easy. The other rulers won’t simply step down.”

A warm breeze caressed her face and lifted her hair. A vision of the Goddess Elyria stood before her. She glowed pure white. A silvery-blue aura surrounded her.

Seraphina knelt, her forehead touching the cold marble floor. “Goddess Elyria. I’m honored.”

“You may rise, Child. As you have seen, Dain will retake his throne in Wyrmhaven. He will then decree that all of Drakon Realm belongs to the one true king and all others must step down. They will obey.” The goddess smiled. “Of course, he can promise in return that they can continue to govern their areas as long as they are fair and righteous. Anyone who rules with a heavy hand will be replaced.”

“How can I help?”

“You will guide him. I will show you the way, but one step at a time. It is too dangerous to rush things. You have explained thebutterfly effect to the king. There will be challenges, but stand strong in your faith in me, yourself, and the king, and all that you’ve seen will manifest.”

“Thank you, Goddess. There are other oracles. Why was I chosen?”

“You were never just an oracle. You are a child of the flame born beneath veils other seers cannot pierce. You walk the line between what can be seen and what has yet to be shaped. Many oracles can glimpse the future, but few can change its course.”

The goddess stepped closer to Seraphina. The air was thick with electricity and smelled of jasmine and water from the sea.

“The blood in your veins remembers the old songs. The bones of this world recognize your voice. It was not chance that led you here — it was the hunger of the land itself... calling for one brave enough to listen, and strong enough to bear the cost.”

Seraphina’s heart thundered in her chest and she stared at the goddess in awe, not only hearing her words but feeling them, as though they were being written into her soul. They were indelible, and Seraphina knew that they would be repeated when they were needed to give her strength and courage.

“Others may speak visions... but you carry them. You were never chosen for your sight alone... You were chosen for your heart.”

“Thank you, Goddess. I fear that my love for Dain will be his undoing.”

She smiled. “All will be revealed after the storm that will descend upon him soon. Be brave, Oracle. The journey will not be easy, but all will happen as you’ve seen and foretold.”

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