Hidden Dragon (The Treasure of Paragon Book 7) Read online

Page 4

All the air rushed from Dianthe’s lungs. If Sylas had turned around and stabbed her in the heart with his own talon, she would not have been more shocked or hurt by his comment. Her ears grew hot with embarrassment and her eyes prickled. Why would he say that in front of the goddess? Even if he believed it to be true! She blinked rapidly against the onslaught of tears.

  By a small miracle, the goddess did not react to his insulting comment but turned her gaze to his brothers. Dianthe was relieved. She wasn’t sure she’d survive any scrutiny into what Sylas had said.

  “My brothers Gabriel, Tobias, Alexander, Nathaniel, and Xavier, and my sister Rowan,” Sylas announced. They each stepped forward and bowed as he introduced them. “And their mates, Sabrina, Maiara, Nick, Raven, Avery, and Clarissa. They are all here to aid the resistance.”

  Everyone but her, Dianthe thought. Sylas’s comment burned in her torso. She couldn’t wait to get him alone. How dare he undermine her position in the resistance?

  The goddess tipped her head and focused on Raven, Clarissa, and Avery. “You are the three sisters, my descendants.”

  Dianthe raised her eyebrows, distracted from her anger by the revelation. Did she say descendants? Sylas had told her about his time with Raven in the dungeon and how she was a powerful witch, but a descendant of the goddess herself? Her skin tingled at the thought.

  Raven smiled, Charlie laughing on her hip. “Yes, Goddess.”

  “And this child?” The goddess stepped forward, taking in the blond babe.

  “Charlie,” Raven said. “My daughter, with Gabriel.”

  The goddess beamed. “The progeny of a dragon and a witch. No wonder Eleanor wants you dead.”

  “Thank you for saving me after I delivered her. I—”

  Circe raised one finger. “You must be mistaken, my dear Raven. I am not allowed off this island. There are rules even gods must follow.”

  Raven bowed her head.

  Dianthe got the distinct impression the goddess was lying but couldn’t fathom about what exactly. Had she left the island before? Or perhaps used sorcery to appear to leave?

  “I would like to offer my sincere admiration for how you and your sisters handled the trap Hera set for you beyond the shores of my island. It is the rare group of witches who can face a sea monster of that magnitude and live to tell the tale.” Circe gazed at the three proudly.

  “Hera?” Raven repeated.

  “Hera,” Circe confirmed.

  Their eyes met and Dianthe wondered at the goddess’s words. Why was Hera sending sea monsters to stop the siblings? It was well known that Aitna, the goddess of the mountain, created the first dragons from the fabric of the universe. Circe, though, was credited with giving dragons the ability to shift into their soma or two-legged form. The only link that Hera had to her mate and the rest of the treasure of Paragon was that Aitna had once had an affair with Zeus. To protect her from Hera’s wrath, the king of the Gods made it so that Hera could not set foot on Ouros nor see it in her scrying mirror or interfere with its environment. But it had always been thus, for as long as Dianthe could remember. It seemed a little late for Hera to be exacting her revenge against Zeus by targeting Aitna and Circe’s creation. Dianthe had a hunch there was something more, some secret that Circe and Raven shared.

  The goddess backed away, trailing her fingers over the head of one of the great cats. “I hereby grant you all sanctuary and the use of my island. I am sorry I cannot do more. My sentence here forbids my involvement in the spectacle that is the lives of men. Be well.”

  In the blink of an eye, she disappeared.

  Finally, Dianthe thought she could confront Sylas about his comment, but she never got a chance.

  He wasted no time taking charge. “If you will all follow me, the rebellion has a base camp in the valley. I’ll show you where you’re going to stay.”

  “Sylas, are we going to talk about why you embarrassed me back there?” It had taken all of Dianthe’s strength to wait until each of the mated couples had found an appropriate tent in the rebellion’s compound to talk to Sylas. The way he’d treated her in front of the goddess burned like a coal in her stomach. When he’d denied her abilities as a seer, he’d denied who she was, down to her soul.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Sylas strode away from her, out of the compound.

  “You do so. You know exactly what you did.” She hurried to keep up when he walked faster. “Where are you going?”

  “To the hot spring. I thought I’d soak before dinner. I think I pulled every muscle in my body fighting Eleanor. We’re all lucky to have survived it.”

  Dianthe crossed her arms against a wave of guilt for bringing up how he’d hurt her considering what he’d endured today. But this conversation needed to happen. She wouldn’t sleep tonight without clearing the air. “I’ll come with you.”

  She followed him along the narrow path away from camp. This part of the island was both familiar to her and more beautiful than she remembered. Bright, multicolored birds called overhead while lush green leaves surrounded her, decorated with silky magenta blooms. Flowers the color of freshly churned butter lined both sides of the path. It was difficult to hold on to her anger in this paradise. Even the scent of the air—ocean water mixed with fragrant blossoms—seemed designed to soothe. Romantic memories of when they’d first met flooded her brain.

  Maybe she should let it go.

  She couldn’t let it go.

  They reached the hot springs, and Sylas peeled the borrowed white tunic from his body and then reached for the string ties of his pants. Although they’d been mated for decades, she never grew tired of seeing him naked. His body was a thing of beauty. Broad shoulders tapered to a trim waist and tight buttocks. His chestnut hair had grown out since his last haircut and curled at the base of his skull. She allowed her gaze to travel lower and had to glance away quickly to keep herself from becoming completely distracted. She was torn between wanting to thank the goddess or curse her as he sank into the hot spring, concealing his body below the waist.

  “Well,” he said, “aren’t you going to get in?”

  “I want to talk about what you said to Circe.” Dianthe refused to let him sidetrack her.

  His gray eyes locked on to her with an intensity that made her heart flutter. He released a deep sigh. “Get in and we will.”

  At least now he wasn’t denying it. She stripped out of her dress and dipped a toe in. Hot. Very hot.

  “Go slow. You’ll adapt.”

  “I remember.” She sat on the side and eased herself inch by inch into the water. At first it was uncomfortable, but as she remained in the heat, her muscles loosened and her wings sagged. She spread her arms along the edge and leaned her head back. “Mmmm. Okay, yes, this was a good idea.”

  “I thought so.”

  Eventually though, the wound he’d opened in Circe’s temple began to ache again and she gave him a somber stare. “Why did you tell Circe that my gift was unreliable?”

  “I thought that would be obvious. We talked about it on the way here. Aborella.”

  Her breath hitched. He couldn’t possibly think that one misinterpretation would mean all her visions were unreliable, could he? She decided to take a different tack. “Do you remember the story of how I learned I was a seer?”

  “You predicted the death of your mother,” he said softly.

  Her throat tightened as long-suppressed emotions began working their way to the surface. “I was three. Just a child. I kept having fits. My parents thought they were seizures, but the healer could find nothing wrong with me. Every time it would happen, I’d see my mother dropping out of the sky. I told my father about the visions, but he assured me my mother was fine, completely healthy, and would be with me for a long, long time. He was wrong.”

  “No one should lose their mother so young,” he whispered, looking truly sad now. “Or their father.”

  “She was shot out of the sky by an Obsidian guard who claimed his arrow had slipped during target
practice. He blamed her for flying too close to their encampment. She died and the guard was never punished. My father died of a broken heart a few years after.”

  “You’ve often said their deaths were the reason you decided to join the rebellion.”

  “One of many. But that’s not my point. My point is that seeing has been part of who I am for as long as I can remember. It’s as much a part of me as my eyesight or my hearing.”

  “Dianthe…”

  “When you denied my abilities, you denied who I am!” Her voice rose, sounding pinched.

  His face remained impassive, but Dianthe got the impression he was holding strong emotions at bay. When he spoke, the words came slowly. “I couldn’t allow the goddess to believe we could rely on your abilities. Not after what happened.”

  “Why? I’m still a seer, Sylas. Just because I misinterpreted one vision—”

  “You spent hours with her, Dianthe.” His face crumpled into an awful expression of sympathy that made her skin crawl.

  “I had to. I was healing her. I cared for her. Of course I spent time with her.”

  Sylas frowned. “Aborella is the most powerful fairy sorceress that ever lived. You didn’t just get it wrong about her. You didn’t see the attack on Everfield coming until the Guard was upon us. Your visions have been few and far between since you healed her.”

  “I—” He was right. Usually an attack of that magnitude would trigger a vision when it was planned, not when it was executed. The rebellion had thwarted many initiatives in the past based on her early visions. She had no explanation for why her abilities had failed her this time.

  “You don’t know why.”

  “No… Yes… Maybe. It could be because it was too personal for me to see clearly. Or… things have been tense between us since you came home. My gift doesn’t work well when I’m under emotional stress.”

  He scoffed. “You think this is my fault?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “What if it was her, Dianthe? Aborella could have cursed you or somehow diluted your power. You probably didn’t even know it was happening.” He shook his head. “She’s evil. She’s an abomination.”

  Dianthe shook her head. She knew Aborella had done evil things in the past, but she’d felt a real connection to the fairy by the end of their time together. “I don’t think that’s true. I don’t feel any different.”

  “No. You wouldn’t. She’d want you to feel the same. Think about it. Pretend you are her and you wanted to use a talented fairy to your advantage, what would you do? If she hurt you, she’d hurt only you. But if she planted visions in your head, or worse, planted a spell so she could control what you see…”

  Tears broke the dam of her eyelids. This was too frustrating. “You think she cursed me so that she could plant visions in my head?”

  “Who knows? We don’t know what she did or what she told Eleanor. You spent days with that snake within striking distance.”

  “I don’t think it’s true. I feel fine.” She was trembling now, raw emotion tangling up inside her and forming a lump in her throat.

  “Be that as it may, I am the leader of the Defenders of the Goddess. It is my responsibility to ensure the safety and effectiveness of our missions. Which means, until we can prove you haven’t been cursed, you can’t participate as an officer of the rebellion.”

  She gasped. “You’re removing me from my position?”

  He looked away from her. “I have to. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I was an officer in the DOGs before you even suspected that your mother killed Marius! I brought you on, Sylas. You can’t do this!”

  He reached for her, but she pulled away, lifting herself out of the water and snagging her dress from where she’d left it.

  “I have to, Dianthe. I know you. You might be angry at me now, but you’d never want to put anyone in danger.”

  What he said made sense. If Aborella had planted some sort of enchantment in her head, the sorceress had violated her in the worst possible way. But even as she considered that possibility, she just couldn’t accept it. Was she stupid for still believing that when she’d looked into Aborella’s eyes, she’d seen true friendship there?

  “How can I prove to you that I am not cursed and regain my position in the rebellion?” She pulled her dress over her head, no longer comfortable being naked in his presence.

  He sighed. “I thought we could ask Raven to examine you. She’s a very powerful witch. Perhaps she’d have some ideas.”

  Dianthe bit her lip. As a fairy, her dealings with witches were few and far between. The citizens of Darnuith kept to themselves, and she hadn’t had the opportunity to get to know the few who were involved in the rebellion. Their powers seemed strange and unpredictable. Still, if everything Sylas had told her about his time in the dungeon was true, Raven could be trusted. And if allowing her to scan her body for curses was the only way to prove Sylas wrong and regain her proper role in the resistance, that’s exactly what she’d do.

  She nodded. “Okay. I’ll find Raven. You’ll see, Sylas. I’m not cursed. You’re mistaken.”

  “Dianthe…”

  But she was already striding back toward camp, anxious to prove him wrong.

  Chapter Five

  The last thing Sylas wanted to do was to hurt Dianthe. As she stormed off, his instinct was to go after her. He longed for simpler times when he could sweep her into his arms and spend the rest of the afternoon making love to her in their tent. He longed to tell her everything would be okay and mean it.

  But his decision was for the best. What magical poison might have infected his mate? Could Aborella see everything Dianthe did? Hear everything she said? Could she influence his mate’s thoughts? Her mind? It was too risky to assume anything less.

  Besides, wasn’t it time for her to be away from the front lines of this damn war? Even if she wasn’t cursed, Aborella had seen her face. She knew Dianthe’s identity now. Hadn’t she earned a break considering her previous service? Sylas had no choice but to fight. It was his mother after all who was the cause of the problem. His kingdom that must be stopped. Dianthe could rest. She could grieve what happened to Everfield. She could be content being his wife.

  On this island, as his mate, not as an officer of the rebellion, she’d be safe.

  Sylas climbed from the hot spring, the island air feeling cool against his body from the abrupt change in temperature. Dianthe might hate him in the moment, but did it matter as long as she was alive to hate him?

  Everything wouldn’t be okay, not until they overthrew his bloodthirsty mother. She wouldn’t stop at burning Everfield. She wouldn’t stop until the five kingdoms fell under the heel of Paragon.

  He dressed and hurried back to camp, hoping some of Dianthe’s anger might have dissipated. The group of tents at the base of the island’s central mountain had been there for years thanks to Circe’s support of their campaign. There was one central tent, large enough to serve as both a mess hall and a gathering place, a command center of sorts for their work across the five kingdoms. Residential tents surrounded that central locale, smaller in size and meant to house one to four adults.

  The island itself, bolstered by the magic of the goddess, provided more than enough in the way of natural resources to keep a contingent of rebels fed and clothed until they could safely rejoin their communities.

  As he neared the mess hall, the smell of roasted pig met his nose and he was pleased to find the sprites had cooked up a buffet worthy of a family reunion. That’s what this was. He hadn’t spent any significant time with his siblings in centuries.

  Dianthe was waiting for him outside. “We should go in together. We can’t make our problems the rebellion’s problems.”

  “I agree.” He put an arm around her waist and pulled her into his side. Thank the goddess she’d chosen to listen to reason. She didn’t look happy necessarily, but definitely resolved. Good enough.

  “Only Colin is missing,” Dianthe noted onc
e they entered. “Have you heard anything from him?”

  He glanced down at her, then intentionally changed the subject. “There’s Raven. Let’s grab a plate and follow her to a table.”

  Dianthe nodded, clearly distracted by the opportunity to talk to the witch about helping her determine if Aborella had cursed her. The redirection worked like a charm. The truth was Sylas knew exactly where Colin was. His brother was on a mission for the rebellion. But his whereabouts were top secret, and given Dianthe’s current predicament, he refused to give up Colin’s locale.

  He ushered Dianthe through the line and loaded his plate with roasted boar, roots, and fresh fruit, then hurried to follow Raven to her table of choice. He settled across from her, Dianthe taking the bench beside him.

  “I see you’ve convinced my brother to do his fair share,” Sylas said, noting that Gabriel had Charlie at the buffet.

  Raven laughed. “He’s better at choosing what she’ll like. I’m still getting used to her having a dragon’s diet.” The witch took a hungry bite and then glanced between Sylas and Dianthe. “I have to say it’s a pleasure to see you without an iron grate between us, Sylas. But I get the sense you sought me out for more than a post-dungeon reunion.”

  Sylas glanced at Dianthe, then lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “We were wondering if you knew a spell to detect if someone has been cursed or carries negative magic within them.”

  Raven leaned back in her chair and sipped her wine. “I don’t need a spell for that. It’s built in. I’m a walking, talking curse detector.”

  “Excuse me?” Dianthe tipped her head.

  “My inherent ability is to absorb magic. I don’t know if all witches have innate talents, but that is mine. If I touch a person who’s been cursed, I’ll be able to feel it. Taste it. Discern its nature.” Raven gave a sheepish smile. “I can’t necessarily break the curse though. That’s a different matter entirely.”

  Dianthe grew visibly excited, her back straightening and the corners of her mouth lifting. “You’ve done this before then?”