Page 71 of Sanctuary with a Dragon
“He hasn’t woken yet?” Everly asked.
Elandor shook his head. “Shay’s doing everything he can, but it isn’t helping.”
Everly stepped closer. “What can we do?”
Shay turned, his face pale and drawn. “I don’t know if he’s going to make it,” he admitted quietly. “If he hasa chance, I’ll need to stay with him around the clock. We should move him to your castle, Alaric—it’s both private and safe.”
This dragon might be the last of his kind. Whatever it took, I would see to his care.
I nodded. “If that’s what you think is best.”
Everly blinked, stunned. “Wait. You have a castle?”
Chapter 21
Everly
“Welcome to Dragonspire Keep.”
He had a castle.
Like, a real castle.
I gaped.
I’d thought they were exaggerating—but no, apparently not. The thing was massive, built of weathered gray stone with towers and battlements, a barbican, a drawbridge, even a moat. And not the nasty, sludge-filled kind either—the water shimmered clear and blue, like it had just been filtered by a glacier. Which was good news for me, because with my knack for tripping over my own feet, I could already see myself ending up in that moat at some point. At least it wouldn’t be slimy.
The portcullis lifted with a slow groan, and several guards came out to greet Alaric. One ofthem was massive and scarred, an eyepatch strapped across one eye, and armed with enough blades to take down a small army.
He bowed deeply to Alaric and stayed that way until Elandor’s power brushed over him and then withdrew—Alaric’s dragon reining himself in. The two of them had already rejoined when I’d transported us here through the dreamscape, and seeing Alaric whole again instead of the incorporeal Casper Alaric was such a relief.
The guard didn’t even blink at the enormous dragon lying behind us, still unconscious. He just gave a brief glance, as if sleeping dragons were an ordinary occurrence, then turned back to Alaric.
“Sire,” he said evenly. “If it’s your wish that we move him, I’m not certain my men can manage it.”
Alaric shook his head and clapped the man on the shoulder. “Not to worry, Benz. My mate can move him. But we’ll need a place for both him and Shay to stay. I didn’t want to appear in the inner bailey and frighten the staff.”
Benz’s lip curled slightly, though not at Alaric—more in disdain for the idea. “Sire, if they find such things frightening, they shouldn’t be serving at Dragonspire Keep.”
Well… he wasn’t wrong.
The guards behind Benz stood in perfect formation, sunlight glinting off their polished armor. I lifted a hand to block the brightness and glanced up at thebattlements, where other guards paced or stood at attention, watchful and steady.
I still couldn’t quite process that Alaric owned an actual castle. Correction: he had owned a castle before being crowned Prime of the shifters. The sheer wealth it would take to maintain this place—its guards, its kitchens, its halls—was staggering.
I hadn’t grown up poor, but our family had always been practical. We patched clothes, wore shoes a little longer than we should, made meals that filled bellies even if they weren’t fancy. I’d thought I understood the gap between “comfortable” and “rich,” but this—this was something else entirely.
And instead of making me giddy, it made something heavy settle over me.
I’d chosen Alaric.
I’d chosen to be queen.
I thought I’d understood what that meant—the kind of person I’d need to become to fill that role. But then I’d seen the field of golden threads, each one linking to a shifter who needed me, and I realized how little I actually understood. The weight of that responsibility, both as a dreamseeker and as a queen, pressed down on me now as I stared up at the walls of Dragonspire Keep.
I didn’t know if I could do this.
Alaric moved to my side, his hand warm as it found mine. “We’ve got a place to put them.”
