Bedelth the Orange (Dragonwall Series #5)

Prologue

Isabella turned in place, taking in the circular room. Vigilance...Eymar...had insisted that an entire tower be used as the royal family's private lodgings. Royal family. She took a moment to consider those words. The thought of a family both thrilled and terrified her.

She was well aware of what she'd done, and her final visit with the King Tree had confirmed it. In creating the Drengr to her own specifications, and imposing a way for them to dwindle to extinction, she'd also cursed their future. Now, her future, too.

The fates always had a liking for irony. She'd had no idea she'd be tied to Vigilance when she'd blessed him. No idea they'd be mates. But here she was, days from their bonding ceremony.

If the King Tree was to believed—which it was—she would have a daughter some day, but only one, because of the stipulations she'd placed upon the magic that had blessed dragons with humanity.

"Do you like it, Isa?" Eymar's voice held a tentative quality, as if nervous to hear what she thought.

She tensed at the feel of his presence behind her. He must have snuck in without her noticing, or more likely, she'd been absorbed too deeply in her own thoughts.

Isa...not Isabella. No one in all her life had dared to use a nickname on her. She'd already corrected him several times for it, and yet, he did it anyway. She wanted to hate it, but, the bond buzzing between them made things like that endearing.

"It's...perfect," she said, eyes blurring. She clenched her teeth, angry that even her own body rebelled against her. She hadn't chosen this. Hadn't asked to be mated to a Drengr, of all things. Forced to leave her people, forced to mate outside her own race.

She wanted to hate him for it. Oh, how she wanted to hate this Drengr who had declared himself King of Dragonwall. But that was another facet of the bond. It gave her all these...feelings. It garnered her control, took right from her grasp.

She wanted him. She desired him. She craved him.

Blinking, she pushed those thoughts from her mind. This room was entirely for her own, personal use. It was a sitting room, finely decorated, with a roaring fireplace, plush sofas, rugs, and glass doors that glittered along one side, sliding open to reveal a covered terrace balcony to permit the sea breeze.

He'd had the room decorated in hues of green, as if he'd known how much she would miss the forest. The gesture was thoughtful. Considerate. The kind of thing a mate would do.

He came up close behind her and his hands found her shoulders, palms wide and warm. He squeezed gently then lifted a hand to point. "Through there, you'll find a massive wardrobe for all your gowns and things, a mirror to my own. And on the floors below, there are smaller rooms for your ladies and your Queen's Guard." She almost snorted. There was no Queen's Guard. Not anymore. They'd abandoned her as part of her banishment. She was no longer a Spriten Queen. Her belly knotted. Suddenly, even her arms felt so very heavy.

She was not entirely abandoned, though. Her ladies, as he called them, handmaidens, dearest friends, they would go to the ends of the world for her. They remained at her side. She had six. They had chosen to stay with her.

"I will have a look at their quarters," she announced, stepping forward, out of his grasp, and taking the winding stairs that led her to the level beneath. There were indeed two floors of smaller chambers with beds, armoires, small tables, and shelves. Everything one would need for a comfortable living space. Each room was decorated and furnished with care. Eymar had been busy while she'd been away.

He trailed after her, silent, observant.

"I love it," she said at last, returning to the sitting room that was hers. "It's perfect. You thought of everything."