Claire created a protective barrier surrounding her and Tourmaline. It was as easy as breathing. She lifted her staff high, feeding it magic from the King Tree, an unlimited well of power. The flames bathed her in a red-orange glow and she felt the heat of them seeping into her wall of protection, but they did not break through.

Tourmaline pawed the ground. Dragons and their flexing, he grumbled. She almost laughed at that. Almost.

One and on, the flames danced, with each dragon in the circle joining in, until every last vestige of air left their lungs. A dragon's chest was large, after all, and could hold a great deal. When the fire faded, and she remained standing, Wrath said, "I didn't expect it to work. Begone, Queen. Your welcome here is at an end."

"I hope you will think on what I've said," she advised, more to the other dragons than to Wrath. Just because he was the leader, didn't mean they were forced to obey him. If it were a perfect world, they would surrender. Even if they were held accountable, choosing death as punishment for what they'd done, at least they'd die with more honor than they'd lived with. There was no honor in dying helpless, and that was exactly what would befall them if they stayed. All she could hope, was that the pregnant females, would leave. And perhaps a few others who weren't like the rest. The hatchlings deserved to be raised by a few of their kind. Perhaps in time, they would turn out different, better.

A path opened behind her and Tourmaline began backing away. She wouldn't risk harming him, so she kept her protective barrier in place as he turned on his hooves and shot forward, leaving the dragons far, far behind.

Do you think they will listen? she asked the unicorn.

Have hope, Queen Claire. There is time yet for them to change their minds.

Hope. Yes. Perhaps that was all she had at the moment.

And if they do? she wondered. How will I hold them accountable? Those who decide to forsake the bloodshed of their clan? The King Tree said their choice would define them, but Talon was right in that I cannot let them live, when so many have suffered and died by their doing.

Perhaps the King Tree will have an answer for that, as well.

The dawn's rays blanketed the land. If they were lucky, she'd make it back to camp in the early afternoon hours. Her stomach churned. She knew what would come of her actions. Talon would not be happy she'd hidden this from him.

But she'd done what felt right. Her conscience, at least, would be clean, knowing she'd done all that she could. At the end of the day, that was all that mattered.

Hours later, she sensed the camp nearing. She didn't dare open her mind. Mostly because she was being a coward. She wasn't ready to hear Talon's angry voice, demanding where she'd gone, what she'd done. That was an answer better given in person.

Sure enough, Tourmaline began to slow. We are back, Queen.

Thank you, my friend.

He took up a slow trot, giving the guards on duty ample time to spot them. Several near the unicorn paddock echoed up shouts and one of them jumped forward, opening the gate. Tourmaline could have jumped it as he'd done the night before, but they were more graceful and less hurried in their arrival.

Tourmaline pranced right into the paddock.

Keeping her staff firmly in hand, she gracefully dismounted. You have done well, came the distant voice from the King Tree. That was all the validation she needed, and perhaps all she'd get. She hid her smile and ran her free hand over Tourmaline's sleek coat. "Thank you," she murmured aloud. Tourmaline threw his head in acknowledgement, then plodded away, leaving her standing.

"Your Majesty," came the authoritative address of a guard nearby. "The king wishes to see you in the command tent."

She took a deep inhale. Here we go, she thought to herself, turning. Any words of advice, she asked Cyrus.

There was a beat of silence and then, You don't need my advice, Claire. Stand your ground. You know your truth. Fate chose you as King Talon's mate for many reasons, including your ability to stand firm in what you believe.

She left the paddock. "I know the way," she told the guard. He swallowed, then nodded. She proceeded at a brisk pace, the guard mere steps behind her. She recognized him as one of the guards that took shifts outside the command tent. Joshua, if she recalled correctly.

"There you are!" Saffra stepped out from an intercepting row of tents and stopped her short. The king's prophetess grabbed her hands again, looking into her eyes. "Well?"

"It is done," she said. "I'd give you the details but..."

"The king is looking for you," Saffra finished for her.

"Desaree and Jocelyn?"

"Attending to their duties."

Claire nodded. "What happened? Will you walk with me?"

Saffra nodded, then launched into an explanation of what had happened come dawn when Talon had found her missing. "He was an an uproar, of sorts," she explained. "Searched the whole camp, but didn't dare let anyone know you'd gone missing."

"Did he ask you what happened?"

"No. You think I want to lie to my king?" Saffra lifted a brow. "No, I made myself scarce and avoided his search."

"Well done," she said, chuckling. Avoiding Talon when he wanted to find you was an impressive accomplishment. She sighed. "On a scale of one to pissed, how bad is it?"

"Not terribly bad, I think." Saffra kept her gaze forward as they strode towards the middle of camp. "He doesn't know what you did, exactly—how could he? If I had to bet, his displeasure stems from your disappearance. You left without telling him, took Tourmaline, and kept your mind closed. He couldn't reach you. I think once he realized you were gone, he calmed down and got back to work."

"And you know all this, how?"

Her nostrils flared. "Bedelth," she admitted at last.

"Ah. The Drengr you keep avoiding."

Saffra clucked. "I'm not avoiding him."

"Right. Don't think I've missed what's going on between you."

"Will you stop?!" Saffra grabbed her arm and rounded on her, eyes flashing, anger lurking. "Just...stop. There's nothing going on between us."

Claire blinked. "Okay. All right. Sorry. It's just..." She exhaled. "Never mind. I'll stop."

Saffra's shoulders relaxed. She nodded, dropped her hand, then said, "Forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive. Don't start treating me like a queen. I wish for you to be my friend first, my subject second. Please don't forget that."

Saffra's lips pressed together, but she nodded.

They continued on.

A few minutes later, the command tent loomed before them. Her Queen's Guard stood in formation outside the tent, probably Talon's doing, so that no one realized she was missing. It was a good ruse.

They shifted, giving her a respectful salute in greeting, their movements coordinated with perfect synchronicity. She let out a relieved breath, glad that not even Feowen stepped forward to question her. Though, she didn't miss the hard line of his jaw, the reproach in his questioning eyes. "I'll tell you later," she said, mouthing silent words to him. He read her lips and nodded. Like the others, he wouldn't dare say a word. None of them would, except, perhaps, Jeanine. Why? Because they were Sprites. They were thousands of years older than she. And despite her young age, they knew how to act towards their queen. It was...a relief.

"Well, wish me luck," she said, glancing at Saffra.

"You don't need it," Saffra teased. "But I do hope I'll get the full story later."

"You'll be the first I tell," she promised.

Saffra bid her goodbye and melted into the camp, disappearing among the tents. She clutched her staff and glanced down at her silver Spriten-hybrid gown, smoothing down the travel-warn skirts with her free hand. Setting her jaw, she nodded at Talon's guards standing beside the tent flaps, then stepped inside.

The murmur of voices ceased, immediately followed by the scrape of chairs as an entire room came to its feet.

She glanced about, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light, a direct contrast to the early afternoon sunshine outside. Around the table, she spotted Talon's Shields. They were all present, Bedelth, Jovari, Koldis, Reyr, Verath, even Dallin, who wasn't yet inducted into their ranks—a Shield in training, she supposed—and all of them were eying her with hard gazes. Great. There were also Dwargs present—a few she'd met the day prior. She spotted Byron and Tamara, too, who offered her a tentative smile.

"We will conclude for now," Talon's voice rang through the tent, controlled, level. "Leave us." Her gaze snapped to him, only to find his eyes glued to her, tracing over her gown, her cloak. He was looking for answers, his face an unreadable stone mask. Her heart gave a heavy thump but she pushed her nerves down.

Everyone began filing out, each giving her a respectful bow and greeting. Reyr's eyes flashed with his unspoken question. Where did you go? he seemed to say in an accusatory manner, but couldn't, because her mind was closed tight. Her face flushed at all the acknowledgement she was paid as queen. Will I ever get used to it? she wondered.

In time you will...came Cyrus's voice, a gentle whisper.

Moments later, she found herself very much alone with the hulking form of Dragonwall's King. Talon stalked over to her, his steps heavy, eyes fixed on her face. "Where were you?" he demanded, a hushed calm riddling the whisper of his voice. The quiet demand was made out of worry, even though his expression gave nothing away.

There was no stalling. A queen did not stall. No, a queen owned up to her actions and stood by them. Pulling her shoulders back, standing tall and firm, she said, "I went to treat with the dragons."

Talon's head reared back, composure broken. "You did what?!"

This was the last thing he'd expected.

"I went to—"

"I heard you the first time," he managed, shaking his head, posture rigid like a taught bowstring.

She started at him unapologetically, waiting for him to truly digest her words, to come to terms with what she'd done. His jaw flexed, fists clenching at his sides as he grappled with his anger. It would be confusing for him, she realized. To love her, but be angry with her simultaneously.

His newly budding anger was probably because he believed she'd ruined everything.

So what if she didn't immediately come clean? So what if she didn't immediately divulge the details? It was childish, petty, even, to be upset with him, but she couldn't help it. Emotions were frustrating like that, often uncontrollable.

After how Talon had reacted yesterday, shooting down her misgivings, she was holding a smidge of a grudge. But deep down, it was more than that. It was a matter of trust, and she wasn't sure he trusted her. Why wouldn't he see her as the girl she'd been months ago, when she'd first come here? Someone to be coddled and protected. Then again, she'd done some reckless things since coming to Dragonwall, making an Unbreakable Promise ranking highest of all.

"Talon..." she said, keeping her voice calm. A warning, perhaps, or a plea. She wasn't sure.

His jaw clenched. "How could you undermine me like this?"

"I did nothing of the sort."

"Then explain." He stepped forward, taking her face in his hands, eyes searching hers. The action—the tenderness despite his anger—caught her off guard. His thumbs stroked over her cheekbones, tilting her face up towards his. Her heart gave several hard thumps. "Help me to understand why you would do something like this, after all that we have worked for? Help me."

She saw it then, the desperation in his gaze. He was trying to understand why she would go against his wishes, go against him. Her stomach squirmed uncomfortably.

"I was careful," she said at last, her voice softening a measure. "I would never undermine your rule, Talon. I took precautions—went to them as the Sprite queen. Word hasn't yet reached them about Jade. They didn't know who I was to you, or that you and your Drengr army waits here. I used that to my advantage. I gave them my ultimatum and left. They know nothing of our plans."

"It's your army too, Claire, or are you so quick to forget?"

"I have forgotten nothing," she cried, her emotions getting the better of her. "Believe me, I know exactly what I am now, where I stand, the stakes. I am speaking, in this moment, as a Sprite queen and nothing else." She reached up for his wrists, wrapping her fingers around them to feel his racing pulse. He hadn't dropped his hands from her face, clutching her. His expression was no longer composed, it was raw and open. "Talon...there were pregnant females—egg-carrying females. Mothers. I could not sit back and do nothing. I could not sit back while dragon-mothers grew full on poisoned lake water, while they were slaughtered. All those lives snuffed out," she breathed. Her eyes blurred. Tears. She blinked them away, willing, begging, for the icy composure of a queen. Perhaps she'd never have it, never be able to look upon a matter without getting her emotions tied into tight knots. Perhaps...perhaps she wasn't cut out for this—to be a queen of any sort.

"Claire... Love..." Talon's face softened. His eyes darted between hers. "You're sure? Hatchlings?" His throat bobbed before he licked his lips.

She nodded, swallowing down the lump of emotion she wore so plainly on her sleeve. "I'm positive," she said at last. "We must give them a chance, Talon. Babies. Little innocent hatchlings that know nothing of the world. I don't, for a second, believe that dragons are inherently evil. If they were, the Drengr monarchy wouldn't exist! And, sure, perhaps they have bad tendencies, instincts that make them more dark than light, but they are babies. Gods! I don't even care if they're evil-little-lake-monster-munchkins. They're babies—"

"All right," he said, voice low, as if to convince himself, too. His thumbs stroked her cheekbones again, trying to calm her. She was spun up tight. "All right," he said again. "I see your point."

She dropped his wrists and placed her hands on his chest, gliding her fingers over his taught muscles. They flexed in response, his eyelids drooping a fraction before he speared her with his gaze. "Tell me exactly what happened," he said at last.

"Okay," she whispered. She went through every detail, from her initial dreams, to Saffra's vision. She explained how she'd snuck out, the hours-long journey through the wilderness upon Tourmaline's back, the sight of the dragons, their leader, Wrath, her conversation with him, and even the way he'd tried and failed to burn her to a crisp.

"And what does Cyrus have to say about this? Let me guess, he was encouraging. Did he put you up to this?" Talon asked, but she could see he was curious more than anything.

"What do you think?"

"I think, had he been against it, you would not have gone."

She nodded. "You're correct in that." She wouldn't have. But, it seemed that in most things—nearly everything, really—she and Cyrus were of one mind. Well, technically, literally, they were. A pang of acidic sorrow speared her chest, needling her heart. They would have made the greatest friends. She didn't often let herself wonder what it would've been like, coming back here with him. Settling into this life with him beside her. A friend for the ages.

But I am your friend, Claire, for the ages...

At last, Talon nodded, oblivious to the emotional turmoil in her mind. "Even still," he was saying, "you should not have offered them safe haven. The pregnant females, yes, but not all of them. As a Sprite queen, you would have been upsetting the neutrality agreements in place, stepping in and showing your hand, acting against me. Technically. But..." He trailed off.

She sighed, considering his words. "Maybe none of it will matter, in the end," she admitted. "I doubt any but the pregnant females will leave. They seemed pretty dead-set in what they are. But if others do, they will be judged accordingly."

Talon snorted, crossing his arms, eying her. "You really think any of them are worthy? That even a single one of them deserves to live? Even those mothers—those females bearing eggs—did their fare share of burning and slaughtering."

"Well, someone has to raise the babies."

Talon exhaled, finally dropping her face. He began pacing. His arms hung limp at his sides. "Our cover isn't blown, then," he said at last, then rubbed the back of his neck. He was calming down, finally.

"I never would have gone, Talon, had had I been uncertain," she explained. "They believed I came from the forest, that I was what I claimed—am what I claimed. I never contradicted them."

He nodded, continuing to pace. "Right," he mused. "Right."

"Talon..."

He stopped, spun to face her. Her body tensed. She knew, just from his expression alone, what was coming. "What you did, Claire, leaving without telling anyone where you were going, was reck—"

"No," she held up a hand. "Don't you dare give me the reckless argument."

"You went by yourself! You put yourself in front of a horde of godsdamn wild dragons!"

She inhaled, then spoke with the calmest, coldest voice she could muster. "I am not the little girl that left the capital months ago."

He blinked, taken aback by her tone, then gave his head a shake. "No. You're not." His shoulders dropped. At last, he took a deep breath, his barrel sized chest rising, expanding outward, tunic straining against it. "Sometimes I wish that you were." Her brows knitted together. "I Know you're powerful, but it scares me half to death, Claire...love." He stalked towards her again, his arms going around her waist, pulling her flush to him. "It scares me to death, the thought of losing you. And that fear? I keep projecting it on to you." He lowered his forehead to hers, the gesture wholly intimate. "Damn it. Godsdamn it! I'm so lost in you. Out of my mind, lost." He spoke the last as a whisper.

She immediately softened, her heart melting into mush. "Talon..." Her hands went for his neck, wrapping around him, relishing in the feel of his warm skin against her palms before tangling her fingers into the hair at his nape. "I need you to trust me," she whispered. "I know you're scared, but I can't be a good queen if my subjects, if my mate, doubts my decisions at every turn."

His nostrils flared and he exhaled. She smelled smoke on his breath, as if despite his human form, the insides of his chest were a raging inferno. "I understand that—understand the feeling all too well. But, Claire, we are a team. We must lead as a team. Ruling together means making decisions together. Why didn't you tell me you were doing this?"

Damn it. He was right. Her cheeks washed with heat, with shame, embarrassment.

"Because...because you would have forbidden it."

Up close, with his forehead against hers, she could see his long, dark lashes as his eyelids closed, stayed shut, then opened again, revealing his beautiful gold-flecked silver eyes. "I would have adamantly advised against it."

"See—?"

"But—" he stopped her, placing a warm finger against her lips. She wanted to lick that finger, but stopped herself, forced herself to focus. "I never would have forbidden it." His finger fell alway, returned to her waist.

Her mouth opened, then closed. She pulled back to look at him. "You...you wouldn't have?"

"Of course not," he cried, growing heated again. "You are the Spriten queen, Claire. Would I have forbidden Queen Jade from acting on her whims and desires? Even if I disagreed? Would I have stepped in to stop her? Gotten in her way? Would I have dared?"

Her brows drew together. He was right. He wouldn't have. But, wasn't that because Jade was—had been—a powerful queen that no one dared cross? She licked her lips. "And...if I wasn't the Spriten queen?"

He huffed, his arms tightening around her waist, fingers stroking her back through her gown. "Then our argument would have lasted twice as long, but you would have persuaded me...eventually. Gods—" he shook his head and snorted, getting a handle on himself. "It wouldn't have taken much. You do realize that, do you not? All you have to do is kiss me, Claire, and I'm lost. All you have to do is kiss me, and I'll agree to whatever you want. I'll fall on my godsdamned knees for you. Do you understand, woman? Do you understand that there isn't anything I wouldn't give you, if you genuinely wanted it?"

"I..." She swallowed against her thick tongue, tears choking her voice. "I guess...I probably should have told you, then."

"Yes. You really should have. I have an entire kingdom to worry about. Wondering where the hell my mate has disappeared to distracts me from my work. It shouldn't, but it does, because I care about you. In that, I'm as much at fault as you. I know you can take care of yourself. And this has nothing to do with my trust. I trust you to get yourself out of whatever danger you find yourself in. I might not like it, but I know you're capable. Gods only know you've done it time and again—"

"Except for that time I got kidnapped," she whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips. "And you had to sweep in and rescue me, all gallant-white-knight-in-shining-armor sort of thing."

He huffed. "I wasn't wearing armor. I didn't need armor for that."

She grinned. "No, you didn't, did you?"

"My point stands. You've gotten yourself out of extreme situations without my help. Kane, the Vodar, you name it." His hands slipped down her waist, then hooked around her thighs, hoisting her up until she was forced to wrap her legs around his trim hips, her skirt tangling between them. Heat erupted through her, radiating to the tips of her toes.

He walked them to the nearest chair and sat down with her, holding her close to him. His expression, the love she saw there, and his still-present frustration, made it hard to breathe. But that wasn't the only reason she struggled for air. Everywhere their bodies pressed, her skin hummed, even through the layers of clothes.

"I never expected this to be easy," he mused. "But it will get easier when we are mated."

She sucked in a breath, knowing what he meant. Once their minds were melded, he'd never need to wonder where she was. Never worry that she wasn't off somewhere, elbows deep in trouble, when he might be able to help her. When they'd first come together, she couldn't wait to be mated. Now, she was slightly nervous about it for so, so many reasons. Reasons she wasn't sure she had the courage to voice.

He leaned forward and brought their lips together, kissing her, parting her lips to explore her mouth. At last, he pulled away, leaving her head a spinning mess of emotion. "When this is all over, we will return to the keep and plan the ceremony. I cannot wait any longer," he said.

And truthfully, despite how nervous she was, neither could she.

⭐🌟 DON'T FORGET TO VOTE!!🌟⭐

Happy Friday, December 16th, Bookdragons!!

The day has finally come. I hope you enjoyed these first three chapters. As many of you know, I post a new chapter each and every Friday, rain or shine. I'm on Eastern Standard Time (EST), so chapters post my time between the hours of 10AM and 6PM on Friday. It's pretty rare that I'm late or that I forget. 

When I set about planning BtO, I took a long look at where we were in the story. It seemed obvious that Claire's biggest struggle in this book (besides Kane and wild dragons) was going to be her transition into ruling. Being a good queen is hard work. She knows this. But she also suffers from something most of us have dealt with before: imposter syndrome. 

I chose this as the theme of the fifth book, making the story a balance of character and plot driven aspects because it seemed realistic that she'd be grappling with this. She's been in Dragonwall approaching a year, and she's still very young (22-ish) compared to Drengr standards. While she went to school for political science, some of us know that going to school, and being out in the real world are two completely different things. I'm speaking from my own experience here. 

Anyway, as you can imagine from these first three chapters, I've set the stage for what we can expect in this book: A bonding ceremony and an internal struggle for Claire. But also, so much more. This is Bedelth's book!!! Next week's chapter is from Saffra's POV. I can promise we will see more of Bedelth and Saffra than we've seen in previous books :)

Have a great weekend and week. I'll see you next Friday. Take care!

-Mel