Page 56 of The Silent Mountain
“Of course. Once I mark you, I will officially make you my queen. You will have as much a say as I have.”
“I thought the dragons were ruled by their kings only. Their wives have been queen consorts only.”
“You did your homework,” he says.
“Of course I did.”
Favian shrugs. “I have changed everything about this kingdom already and will certainly not stop here. I don’t know how many children we will have, but I will definitely change the rules of succession to the throne. If our firstborn is a daughter, the throne will be her birthright. My queen will reign alongside me, and she will be fantastic in doing so. I think we will complement each other well, don’t you?”
“If I hadn’t already jumped your bones, I would do so now,” I say bluntly.
Favian laughs. It’s rare that he does so, and it makes my heart melt. “You saved us,” he says once he has calmed down again. “You came here with your fiery personality and your kindness, and your eagerness to work and help, and you pulled everyone with you. Your work ethic and your optimism are contagious. Even Stefan likes you.”
“He doesn’t like many people, does he?” I ask, amused.
Favian scrunches his nose. “He is a weird one.”
“I think he sees you as his main task,” I say. “His loyalty is with you first and with the dragons second.”
Favian tilts his head. “Maybe.”
“I am not going anywhere,” I repeat when I snuggle into his arms. “I am an honorary dragon shifter now.”
“You are definitely more than an honorary member of the clan,” he says. “You are one of us. With you, I feel like we can do anything. No problem is too big to solve, even if it’s an ugly mare, which was sent here from Aengus knows where.”
“We will not rest until we have solved this riddle and gotten rid of the threat,” I promise.
“See.” He smiles. “With you, everything seems to be solvable.”
“That’s because it is,” I reassure him. “History won’t repeat itself. I won’t let it.”
Favian just smiles. Neither of us talks anymore. It was a long day and a long night, and I am exhausted, slowly finding myself drifting to sleep.
The next morning comes soon enough. There is not much time to rest and sleep in with all the work at hand. Maybe once we have solved everything that’s haunting us, Favian and I can take a couple of days off, but for now, that’s not an option.
We both rise with the first rays of the sun coming through the window, albeit slowly. The room is oddly illuminated in an orange light. I wash myself and dress quickly before inspecting the stunning view. “What magnificent scenery,” I mutter, walking to the huge windowed door that leads to the balcony to pull the curtains aside. “I have never seen anything like this.”
Snow is falling, and the sky is clouded, yet there are rays of sunshine coming through, illuminating the snowflakes and making it look like drops of blood are falling onto the land. That’s when I notice Favian has gone completely quiet. He walks to me, a frown on his face.
“Someone is dying,” he says into the silence.
“What?” I turn to look at him.
“When a clan member dies or is about to die, the sky lets blood rain or snow fall. During the war, we had this type of weather for months. It’s a sign of death for us,” he says.
eighteen
It’s Snowing Blood
*FAVIAN*
Thesightofredsnow falling down onto the lands sends me into a spiral of emotions. Breathing gets harder all of a sudden. It’s like it was ten years ago… or longer… How much time has passed? My head starts spinning. It was raining every day, or snowing, sometimes it was so cold that the rain turned into ice, and each day it was red. Deep red snowflakes or raindrops falling down, making it look like blood was washing over us.
In a metaphorical way, it did, because so many dragon shifters died during that time. Aengus made it snow and rain blood for us to remember them.
“Favian,” I hear Alana’s voice and feel her body closer to mine, her warmth radiating and pushing through the coldness that has gripped my heart. The ice-cold hand loosens its power over me, the coldness subsiding. When I come back to my senses, I notice I have gripped the edge of the balustrade so hard it’s leaving cracks. Alana has put her hand on mine, just gently touching it.
“I apologize,” I mutter, pulling my hand away from the balustrade.
