War of the Dragons

  War of the Dragons

  Dragon-Born Saga Book Four

  K.N. Lee

  Copyright © 2017 by K.N. Lee

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  An Exclusive Look at Fallen Empire

  An Exclusive Look at Fallen Empire

  An Exclusive Look at The Red Queen

  First Look: Court of Shadows

  About the Author

  Also by K.N. Lee

  More From K.N. Lee

  Chapter 1

  “You’re lucky to be alive,” Elian said to Rowen, as they looked over the Red Cliffs at the death and destruction below. “I could have killed you if I really wanted to.”

  Chills ran along her arms at hearing those words. She’d been telling herself exactly that for years, and somehow it continued to prove true.

  Perhaps the gods were keeping her around for a reason.

  “And, why didn’t you?”

  “I have my reasons,” he said, giving her an eerie sidelong glance.

  The black smoke that rose from the valley was thick in the air, burning her nose as she breathed it in. It smelled of coal and spice.

  Dragon’s Fire.

  Her heart thumped in her chest as she watched the battle unfold.

  Dragons and men fought on the battlefield. Flames roared from the Dragon’s throats, and Wizard’s Fire shot from the scepters and hands of men born with magic flowing through their veins.

  The clash of Wizard’s Fire and Dragon’s Fire was terrifying, but beautiful. The melding of bright green and red created an aura that warmed her face. She had to remind herself that this wasn’t a thing of beauty.

  This was war.

  While young men and old fell to their deaths, Dragons also plummeted to the ground from mortal wounds.

  There would be no winners.

  This was Elian’s fault. He and the circle of wizards from the east had cursed an entire race of men to become dragons. Just so they could increase their own power. They never knew it would in fact have the opposite effect, draining them of the immense power they’d hoped to rule the world with.

  That’s what she kept telling herself, even though she truly believed it to be her own.

  Rowen gave him a sidelong glance. Tears stung her eyes, because she knew she was the cause of this war. She’d known since her whole journey began.

  “I’ve been hearing people say that my entire life,” she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

  A small red dragon sat on her left shoulder, swinging its tail and watching the fight ensue with great curiosity. She stroked its head and sighed. Through it all, the dragon had been there with her, like a close friend. Though it didn’t speak, she didn’t feel like it needed to. She took comfort just being in its presence.

  Even if it did only show up in her prophetic dreams.

  “And, they’ve always been right,” Elian said.

  “Perhaps. But, look at what I’ve done. The people have joined in arms to fight for me, and to fight against me. How do I stop this from happening?”

  Elian reached a hand out to the small red dragon on her shoulder. It sniffed his knuckles and flew to him, landing on his forearm.

  “She’s beautiful,” he said, marveling at her red scales. “You do realize she is the key to stopping this war. Don’t you?”

  A brow lifted over Rowen’s gray eyes, eyes that matched Elian’s in every way. “How so? How do you know?”

  He shrugged. “I have my ways. Not that I want to admit it, but I suppose I was put here to show you your path. Considering all you’ve done to destroy me.”

  She huffed. “Well, sometimes I wish they’d been successful hanging me that day. The world wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for me.”

  “No. It was fate. I was supposed to be there that day. I was supposed to rescue you.”

  She looked back to him. “But, why? All you ever wanted was to find the infamous Red Dragon—the one who ultimately killed you.”

  A crooked smirk came to her father’s lips as his blond hair blew in the wind. “But, I’m not dead, Rowen. Not even close.”

  Slick with sweat, Rowen opened her eyes to a pale gray sky just barely brightened by the rising sun. Her heart still raced, and she breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. She lay there, staring out the open window of her bedroom as she tried to store all she’d learned from her latest prophecy in her mind.

  It was something she’d learned to do from an early age. Once, she’d thought her dreams were just that.

  Dreams.

  But, as they began to come true more and more, she realized she had a gift.

  Though, some might call it a curse.

  It took years of practice to teach herself to remember those dreams once she was awakened. Even more years to train herself to weave her way through them, while they were happening. There was one thing she hadn’t mastered, and that was the art of changing them or stopping them from coming to fruition.

  “What are you doing awake so early,” Rickard said, after a long yawn.

  From behind, Rickard held her tight to his body as he slept. She loved his soft snores and how he nestled his face in her hair and kissed the back of her neck before they fell asleep each night.

  A year had passed since that fateful night when everything changed. Her father had tried to take her mother from her. And, she had faced her fears, ultimately becoming a stronger person.

  A stronger Dragon.

  “Another dream,” she said. “Something is coming. I can feel it.”

  He kissed the back of her neck. “It always is. And, I’ll always be here with you to face it.”

  She smiled. “I know,” she said, and turned to him. His body was always warm, and she rested her head on his shoulder and sighed.

  “Tell me about this latest dream,” he said, running his fingers along her back.

  Sighing, she closed her eyes and recalled the images from her dream.

  “The Red Dragon,” she said. “It keeps appearing in my prophecies, but I’m starting to think it’s not Ioan at all.” She wasn’t sure why she didn’t reveal her theory about it being her sister. She had no way of being sure, having not seen her for many years. But, the fact that Elian called it a she was further proof of her suspicions.

  “Oh, yes,” he said. “Always the Red Dragon. We found it, befriended it…what else is there to do?”

  She took his hand and kissed his knuckles before gently removing his arm from around her. “Good question,” she said and slipped out of their bed. Dressed in her night gown, she walked to the window and breathed in the fresh air. It was better than the smoke she’d been breathing all night in her dreams.

  It was fresh, crisp, and clean.

  Winter had arrived, and with it, more snow covered the kingdom of Withrae. She stepped out, and into the air. The cold wind carried her as she closed her eyes and outstretched her arms.

  This was what true freedom felt like.

  She could fly,
even in her human form. It was something no one had ever seen, and it was also something that made her a target by those who would see her ruined. She shook her head. It wasn’t anything new. She’d been ostracized since the day she was born.

  The half-blood. The murderer. The social climber who bewitched the king of Withrae.

  It was all noise in the chaos that filled her mind. She had bigger things to worry about.

  Her eyes opened as she looked to the mountains.

  Like the tomb of her father.

  The one she thought they’d killed.

  Chapter 2

  Sir Warwick Ludlow stood at the bottom of the steps of the Parean throne room. He looked up at the king who tapped his fingers on the throne’s arms, mulling over his proposal. At his side was a wiry older gentleman wearing gray robes and a hood over his bald head.

  Aster, the king’s royal advisor.

  Warwick’s spy.

  “Are you certain?” King Tilton asked. “The Dragons have left us in peace for as long as I’ve been king of Parean. Why would they be a threat now? When the elders made the treaty between humans and Dragons, it was understood that only an act of war would end it. What makes you think I want to be the one to make the first move?”

  “I am certain, your majesty. And, you will not be the one to make the first move. King Thorne and his son Lawson have already done that. They have already broken the peace terms. King Thorne of Withrae has sanctioned an order to destroy the boundary that separates and protects us from the Dragons.”

  “I am aware. Yet it still stands.”

  “Yes, but did you know he’d already destroyed the entrance to Estilan just last year? Dragons raid and pillage the south every single day. The people have been uprooted from their homes and sent running for their lives to the mountain kingdoms.”

  King Tilton’s blond brows rose and Warwick knew he had him at that moment. Tilton was considered the most reasonable of the Trinity brothers. Trinity was the oldest and most prosperous empire of the human realm, and ruled by three brothers who shared power equally. Still, Warwick knew he had a better shot with the wise Tilton than Kelton or Shelton. By the look in the king’s eyes, he was certain he would be on his way to Withrae by night’s end.

  “I haven’t seen any reports of such things.”

  With a tilt of his head, Warwick outstretched his arm with a shrug. “Of course, you haven’t. Do you think King Bourose wants anyone to know he can’t keep his people safe, that he can’t keep invaders from burning his lands with Dragon’s Fire? No. He will keep his secret instead of seeking out help, and his people will suffer for it. What I propose is to handle this issue for you. To protect our people from the creatures who have terrorized us for centuries.”

  The king’s cheeks paled, and his advisor leaned down to whisper something to him.

  Yes. Make the right decision. Let him lead an army of wizards abroad to stop the Dragon’s once and for all.

  He held to his staff with one hand, and his empty scabbard with the other. The Wizards of Myrity were ready to march. It was time. They just needed him to give them the signal. They’d waited for centuries for the sign they’d been awaiting.

  A girl born of Dragon and wizard’s blood.

  This was the moment they’d been waiting for.

  She was the key to saving the world. She just didn’t know it yet.

  He snarled as he remembered his early years, under the tutelage of the great wizards to the east, the ones who helped him hone is abilities. The ones who betrayed him.

  Imagine his shock when he’d heard rumors that the girl from the prophecies was actually the daughter of one of those wizards. Elian Westin. The pirate who killed his father and stole his soul.

  His grip tightened around the staff as he wondered just how many children he’d left fatherless.

  Even though his mother had been a sorceress, not even she could stop that despicable pirate from destroying their home and family.

  He stroked the grooves of his bone staff. Having used her bones to craft it, she would always be a part of him. Always near.

  To his right stood his younger sister, Priscilla. She was all he had left. All he needed to exact his revenge.

  Her long black hair swayed as she moved closer to the king, stopping just at the bottom step. They shared the same bright hazel and the line of magic their mother and father had passed down by their blood.

  While Warwick was a war wizard, Priscilla was a temptress.

  Not your typical magic users by any means.

  “Your majesty,” she said, bowing her head with respect.

  “Lady Priscilla,” the king said.

  “We can be in Withrae in just a few days. With my powers, I can influence even the most stubborn of Dragon to do as I please.”

  “Is that what you’re doing here?” King Tilton asked, suddenly a bit worried to have allowed the temptress into his palace. Humans were still a bit wary about true magic-users, even though they’d protected them since the beginning of time.

  Warwick tensed. He’d given his sword to the guards outside. He didn’t want to have to fight his way out of there, but if he must, he would be ready.

  Certainly, he was skilled with a sword…but, they really should have taken his staff.

  Priscilla chuckled and shook her head. “No, your majesty. I have not used my powers on you. I can assure you. I wish it were more discreet, but alas, my hair changes color when I tempt another.”

  She lowered her head and shook the long black locks. Each strand took on a golden color, and then red, and she looked back up, her eyes aglow. “See. This is what it looks like.”

  He clutched the arm of his throne and she stopped, turning her hair and eyes back to normal.

  “As you can see, my sister is gifted, and when she uses her gift, the person she tempts would remember nothing of the encounter. They would simply execute her wishes without question.”

  The king cleared his throat. “Interesting. But, what about the half-blood queen?”

  Priscilla looked back to him, revealing a mask that was fused to half of her face, hiding the damage done during their time in the dungeons of Erandell. While, half of her face was unmarred, and beautiful, the other was painted on porcelain.

  With a slight shake to her head to remind him not to say too much about her. They had other plans for her.

  “Leave her to me.”

  After a moment of contemplation and a few more whispers from his advisor, King Tilton nodded. “Fine. I will share your plan with my brothers. Trinity is forever in your debt, Sir Warwick,” he said. “You have my blessing. Do what you must.”

  A slow, tight smile came to Warwick’s lips.

  With pleasure.

  Chapter 3

  The waves of the Parean Sea swept Ophelia away, yet she didn’t mind. She let the warm, tropical water carry her from the beach.

  It was pure bliss. As she swam farther from the shore, the sea grew deeper, and revealed more of its mysteries to her. The sea floor was lush and green with seaweed, like an underwater jungle. Orange fish with glowing yellow eyes navigated in and out of the white caverns that emerged from the sea garden.

  She swam to the bottom and sat on a cool rock, looking upward. She needed air, but forced herself to stay a little longer. Train herself to hold her breath for as long as she could. Most Dragons hated water.

  Not Ophelia.

  It called to her in ways she couldn’t explain.

  As she fought the urge to dash her way to the surface, she looked around at the layers of blue and green water all around. The white sand and stone on the sea floor was marked with symbols she knew to be Sirenian.

  The language of the mermaids.

  How she yearned to meet a mermaid.

  A smile came to her face as she remembered playing such games with her sister when they were younger. They’d swim in the pond behind their manor and pretend they’d stumbled upon a mermaid kingdom.

  One particular memory washed
over her and she grasped it, not wanting to let go.

  Holding hands, Ophelia and Rowen ran into the forest behind their home. It was the last day they would see one another, a day that had broken both of their hearts. Just remembering it brought tears to Ophelia’s eyes, but she embraced the images, and willed them to continue. To envelope her the way the sea water did.

  With big gray eyes, Rowen turned and looked to her, gripping her by the shoulders.

  “Listen to me,” she said. “I love you. And, I always will.”

  Her bottom lip trembled. “I love you too, Rowen.”

  A moment of silence passed between the two and Rowen wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “He may try to separate us, but we will always be in each other’s hearts.”

  Nodding, Priscilla threw herself at Rowen and wrapped her arms around her neck. Their father had always made it his mission to keep them apart. Rowen was a disease in his eyes, and he wanted his natural born daughter to not be tainted or infected by her.

  “I don’t want to go,” she said and Rowen breathed in, deeply.

  “Do not worry,” she said, stroking her hair. “We will not let him win.”

  Her voice was calm, something Ophelia had never mastered. Rowen was an expert at hiding her emotions, and Ophelia was the exact opposite. She wanted to scream in anger at the Duke. She wanted to storm back to the manor and shake him, demanding that he let them both stay.

  But, no. Rowen would be sent to the Withraen Palace, and Ophelia would be sent to marry a man she’d only ever seen once in her life during the fall festival just months prior.

  “One day, I will come back and I will find you.”