The Dragons of Paragon Read online

  Colin’s throat bobbed, his lower lids lining with silver. Leena couldn’t remember ever seeing him so moved, with the exception of the moment in the cradle when he’d wanted her to take his tooth. He glanced toward her, almost as if he was asking for her blessing, and she gave him a swift and certain nod. “It would be my honor to serve Paragon in this capacity. It will take work, but I’m confident the dragons of Paragon are up to the task of remaking their military, one that works for and with our allies.”

  Gabriel’s expression softened for the first time, as if Colin’s acceptance was a huge relief to him. Leena glanced at Colin proudly. He was perfect for the job, and maybe she could get work in Paragon too, perhaps in the palace kitchen or in one of the shops in Hobble Glen. She knew several languages, after all, and was no stranger to hard work.

  “Which brings us to you,” Gabriel said, shifting his focus to Leena.

  “To me?” In shock, she was speechless as the full force of his attention turned on her. “I promise you I won’t be any trouble—”

  “We’re going to need a court historian.”

  Leena froze. Did he say what she thought he said?

  “With your being a former scribe, Raven and I thought you would be the perfect choice. You’d be responsible for recording all the meetings of the Council of Elders as well as accurately detailing significant events in Paragonian history. Of course, you won’t have the benefit of a pool of tears, so you’ll have to be where the action is.”

  “Yes,” she blurted, a smile spreading across her face. Was her skin glowing? The joy she felt inside must be visible on the outside. “I will be your court historian. Oh, Gabriel, thank you! You won’t regret giving me this opportunity.”

  “Good. Then it’s settled. You’ll both move in to the palace as soon as we can get it rebuilt. Until then, the owner of the Silver Sunset has agreed to lease the inn to us. You’ll have a room there.”

  “We’ll be living in the palace?” Leena gaped in surprise.

  Colin seemed equally unsure. “Neither Scoria nor Ransom lived in the palace. Even when Ransom was… staying in Eleanor’s rooms, he didn’t officially live there.”

  “But you will,” Gabriel said. “And so will your mate. The kingdom of Paragon owes you dearly for your leadership of the Defenders of the Goddess. You’ll both live in the palace, and you will be compensated well for what you do and will have access to the royal staff. I assume, now that you’ve mated, you’ll only be needing one suite of rooms?”

  Colin shot her a questioning look, and she poured her agreement into her smile. His eyes sparked with masculine heat.

  “Are you sure? It’s a lot of change for you,” he asked her.

  She glanced down at the table, embarrassed to be having this conversation in front of Gabriel. She wasn’t ashamed. She just wished they’d spoken about it earlier. “I’m sure,” she said. “As sure as I have ever been.”

  “Yeah, we’ll only need one,” Colin said, never taking his eyes off her.

  “Excellent.” Gabriel stood from his chair. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a few more job offers to make.”

  Colin shook his hand firmly. “Thank you, Gabriel.”

  Leena bowed, heart brimming with appreciation for Gabriel’s kindness. “It’s a new beginning for both of us.”

  Gabriel smiled, his eyes glancing heavenward. “For all of us.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Kingdom of Paragon

  The Obsidian Palace

  Year of the Goddess: ͵βιθ, Pisces 28th

  Six months after the Paragonian revolution

  With the help of fifteen witch architects from Darnuith and a dozen engineers from Rogos, King Gabriel and Queen Raven have successfully reconstructed the Obsidian Palace for a new generation. The lava rock that previously carved through the gardens has been removed, and new flowering trees and shrubs have been planted in the scorched soil.

  The palace itself has been reconstructed to let in more light with an open and welcoming floor plan. It starts in the veranda, where the family crest has been lovingly restored by Alexander, who is now serving as the royal artist. What once depicted a dragon wrapped around a golden fruit tree now includes his mated witch sitting atop his tail. The crest commemorates the love of Tavyss and Medea, whose brave sacrifice in the fight against Eleanor and Brynhoff laid the groundwork for the new kingdom. Rumor has it that the redesign was in part at the suggestion of his mate, Maiara, who is now serving as the court healer.

  Beyond the veranda lies a great hall, also designed by Alexander with the help of engineers and architects from Rogos. Fashioned in a circle rather than a traditional rectangle, the room is constructed with collaboration in mind. King Gabriel’s goal is to undo the damage caused by Eleanor’s reign. To increase a sense of equality and partnership among the five kingdoms, there is no dais and no thrones as there were under the reign of Eleanor and Brynhoff. The king and queen address their guests from the center of a ring of seats, and when they are done, they sit in common chairs among the others.

  All fifteen bedrooms have been reconstructed with en suite bathrooms along with the dining room, library, and a state-of-the-art kitchen. Although their location is undisclosed, there are also treasure rooms for the palace dragons. The Obsidian Dungeon, however, has not been excavated, nor has the rubble beyond the library that once housed Eleanor’s ritual room. By royal decree, they will be sealed off from the palace, never to be used again.

  With the palace and grounds in operational order, Paragon has once again found its voice in the political landscape of Ouros. The Council of Elders has been reinstated and is now comprised of the living descendants of the original council, along with elected representatives from Darnuith, Rogos, Everfield, and Nochtbend. All council meetings are held after sunset to encourage participation by the vampires, something that has never been done before.

  Although the fairy representative on the council would prefer to meet during the day when fairies are at their strongest, the assignment of Sylas and Dianthe as diplomats in the region has smoothed over any political unease at the change. The two consider themselves as much citizens of Everfield as of Paragon and have made it their personal mission to rebuild the Empyrean Wood.

  They are receiving help from Nathaniel and Clarissa, Paragon’s new royal magicians. Clarissa is using her unusual talent for vocal magic to help the trees in Everfield grow faster, while Nathaniel employs his dragon-powered spellwork to help the fairies design homes safely at a faster pace.

  Although Avery and Xavier refused a permanent position in the Paragonian royal court in order to spend part of each year in Xavier’s Earthly realm, Avery, as one of the three sisters, is now a trusted adviser to the crown, and Xavier is serving as a temporary officer in the guard, helping Colin train the new warriors.

  As for Tobias and Sabrina, although they acted as temporary ambassadors to Nochtbend, they will be returning to Earth, as will Rowan and Nick, after the coronation of Raven and Gabriel. Sabrina has her own coven to run, and Tobias has a full life as her consort. Rowan and Nick are anxious to return to their lives in New York, where they run a community center for underprivileged children.

  Which brings us to the beloved event that we celebrate today, the coronation of Gabriel and Raven. I, Leena, royal court historian, am pleased to immortalize this moment by documenting it as the first official event of a new era for Paragon. The great hall is adorned in bursts of white flowers that fill the room with a heady, lightly sweet fragrance. Swags of gold rope, a gift from Nochtbend, hang from the ceiling. The floor is lined with emeralds, the king and queen’s official gemstone, enchanted by the witches of Darnuith to glow from within. The walls bear tapestries woven by the artisans of Everfield, depicting the constellations exactly as they will be on this sacred night. And the most talented musicians from all five kingdoms have come together to play for the standing-room-only crowd.

  Raven, dressed in emerald vilt, walks ceremoniously to the center
of the room from the south, her daughter Charlie’s hand in hers at her side. Charlie, who took her first steps only weeks ago, wears a dress made of the same material as her mother’s but with a shorter skirt that shows off a pair of shiny golden shoes. The crowd cheers at her tentative steps and the way her soft white wings adjust for balance. Gabriel arrives down the aisle from the north next, handsomely clad in an emerald-and-black tunic suit adorned with gold cords. Avery and Clarissa carry in the crowns from the west aisle, and Marius, to the surprise of many of the guests, arrives from the east as the officiant.

  To murmurs of the crowd, Marius places the crowns upon the heads of the new king and queen, saying, “As the eldest son of the last reigning regent, I hereby declare Gabriel and Raven the true and proper rulers of Paragon and renounce all claims to the throne. I crown you king and queen in the name of the goddess and welcome a new era of peace and justice under your reign.” And then, to the absolute delight of the crowd, a small tiara that has been hidden inside Gabriel’s crown is nestled in the cherubic curls of the royal couple’s daughter. “Charlie, in the name of the goddess, I crown you princess of Paragon.”

  Applause rings out, deafening in the round room. Guests from every kingdom leap to their feet to congratulate the couple.

  When the noise dies down, Gabriel addresses the kingdom. “My dearest Paragonians and distinguished guests. It is my deepest honor to accept this crown from my brother Marius. For far too long, Ouros has suffered under a cruel and ruthless ruler whose only desire was to amass limitless power. My queen and I are committed to a world that shares power, a kingdom whose deepest concern is the welfare of its people, and a reign that will one day be remembered for being as just and fair as its predecessor was cruel.”

  After another round of cheers, all the guests are invited to a feast in the adjoining ballroom. The festivities are planned for well into the night. Guests enjoy food and drink from the five kingdoms, including Paragonian tribiscal wine, elderbeast from Darnuith, and crizzle rolls from Everfield. By the time the two suns rise above Paragon and the last guests leave the palace, it is clear that the evening has ushered in a new beginning and a bright future filled with potential.

  Epilogue

  The moment Marius placed the crown on Gabriel’s head, he experienced an intense and profound sense of relief. Before everything, before he’d… died… he’d thought he wanted to be king. It was what he was raised to do. Raised to be. But now, after everything, it was all too much. What would be the point of going against what the goddess wanted? What the people wanted?

  In some ways, he was the last dragon, the last remnant of a kingdom that was no more. But he would not be like Eleanor. He would not fight for more power or play politics to orchestrate his own advancement. He was done with all that.

  Later, in the ballroom, he hung in the shadows, leaning against a cane that had proved necessary in his weakened state. He nursed a glass of tribiscal wine and watched the dancing and merriment with interest. These people were strangers to him and not just because those who’d been allies of Eleanor’s were either dead or banished from the palace. To Marius, it felt like he’d been gone for a thousand years. He’d spent ages in that place between, had seen horrors that only the dead see. Only the dead who don’t pass on.

  All this, this game of kingdoms, seemed trivial now. Who could concern themselves with trade routes and border agreements when they’d been given another chance at life? Why fight to be king when he was just happy to be free of the purgatory that had held him for so long?

  “You really gave it up? Just like that?” A woman stood beside him, although he had no recollection of her moving to his corner of the room. Strange. He didn’t know her, which made the personal nature of the question all the more intrusive.

  He grunted dismissively and sipped his wine. Clearly, she was a member of the aristocracy, a daughter of some wealthy merchant from Hobble Glen, he supposed. Although her wings were tucked away, she had the double crescent mark beside her right eye as all dragons did, as well as the smoky scent of his kind. Her red dress was made of the finest vilt, and her caramel-colored hair shone like silk against the fabric. The rubies and diamonds flashing from her ears, neck, and fingers were easy enough to come by in Paragon, but the gold design that housed them and the magic that lit them from within was not. That was only available to the wealthy. She blinked lovely golden hazel eyes at him, only a few shades lighter than what his used to be before he became this… this… ghost.

  “Please forgive me,” she said, brows crowding together and cheeks reddening as if she was ashamed. “It was terribly rude of me to ask it so bluntly. To be honest, I feel like I know you, but you couldn’t possibly know me. It was far too personal a thing to ask.”

  “Forget about it.” Marius braced himself on his cane with both hands. He’d kept his tone polite but not warm. He wanted to set her at ease but also discourage further conversation. Hopefully she’d get the hint and leave him alone.

  Defying his expectations, she stayed right where she was, sipping her drink in awkward silence.

  “Why exactly do you feel like you know me?” he asked, suddenly curious. Even as a prince, he didn’t mingle with the general population often, and he certainly didn’t remember her. She was beautiful. The old him might have noticed.

  She raised an eyebrow, her expression growing wistful. “I used to watch you fight in the pits. You were quite the warrior. I’m embarrassed to say I had your poster hanging in my bedroom. I never missed one of your matches.”

  Oh, so she was a pit bunny. There was always a small legion of unmarried females watching the matches from the stands, hoping by some miracle their scent would find its way into the ring and they’d be noticed by one of the warriors, perhaps a prince. Sad, really, that she’d carried a torch for him all this time. She must have heard what happened to him, and if she hadn’t, he didn’t plan to explain it to her. Why couldn’t she just leave him alone?

  He sipped his wine. “That was a long time ago.”

  “Of course it was.” She lowered her voice. “Before you died… and came back. I have to say, I almost didn’t recognize you, but… The changes suit you if you don’t mind my saying so.”

  He shot her a glance, a pang of self-consciousness shooting through him at the thought of his white hair and colorless eyes. Her expression seemed genuine, but the comment left him raw. He’d been considered handsome once. Not now. Now he was a sketch of a man that the artist had forgotten to shade in. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to…” He couldn’t think of a single thing he had to do, but he drifted away from her.

  “I just wanted to know if you’ll be fighting in the pits again,” she blurted. “Since you’re not challenging Gabriel to… um… rule… you have to do something with your time, right?”

  He frowned into his wine and made a show of adjusting his weight on his cane. “Not up for a fight these days, obviously.”

  “Well, not yet,” she said with a soft smile. If he’d sensed a hint of insincerity, he might have torn into her, but her words gave off a genuine hopefulness, as if she truly believed he might fully recover. He didn’t have the energy to correct her.

  He would need to do something with his time, wouldn’t he? But considering the coronation aisle was the farthest he’d walked without his cane since his resurrection, the pits were likely not in his future. Raven and Gabriel had invited him to act as an adviser to the Council of Elders, but he had to believe the job wouldn’t take all his time. Eventually, he would need a distraction, anything so he wouldn’t dwell on the disaster that was his life. Funny that it took this strange woman to make him think of it.

  “Who are you, exactly?” he asked.

  “Harlow. I’m the doormaker’s daughter. I think you’ve met my parents, Darium and Lemetria?” She bowed her head in greeting.

  “I have met your parents.” He sipped his wine to keep from betraying his feelings about the couple. Doormaking was an esteemed art in Paragon as each
home’s door traditionally displayed a unique mosaic of gems that represented the history of the family who lived there. The wealthier the family, the more ornate the door. And Darium was the premier doormaker. But all that wealth had made him and his wife drunk with self-importance—at least, that was how Marius remembered them. Then again, it had been hundreds of years since he’d been in a position to judge.

  “I know what you’re thinking, but they mellowed out over the years you were away,” Harlow said. “Certainly the last few, when Eleanor became a power-hungry tyrant.”

  Marius raised a brow and ground his teeth. “It’s hard for me to picture your father in the resistance.”

  She laughed. “Oh no, he wasn’t. We both know that’s not who my father is. But he also distanced himself those last months. I suppose that’s what earned us the invitation.”

  Marius glanced around the room. “Your parents are here tonight?” That surprised him. He hadn’t spoken to Gabriel about who was associated with the Highborn Court, but he would have assumed Darium and Lemetria to have been in Eleanor’s inner circle as they were when he was a young man. He’d have thought Gabriel would have cast them out entirely.

  “No.” She gave a shallow smile. “My father was called away to meet with a vendor in Nochtbend. They send their regrets. But I am here, representing my family.”

  “Hmmm.” His glass had run dry, and so had his patience. He looked toward her to make some excuse to abandon her presence, but his eyes locked on a figure that had appeared behind her in the shadows. Killian. His father’s colorless and translucent presence stood wraithlike behind Harlow, his dark mouth gaping silently in his pale face. A red slash marred his neck where he’d been beheaded. He was saying something, mouthing words that Marius couldn’t understand.