All Carnelia Majere wants is to live happily ever after with her handsome Dragon Prince, Primus. To grow old watching their children grow. But the universe has other plans. Torn from the loving embrace of her mate, and leaving her children behind, Carnelia is forced into slavery by her twisted sisters Lyra, Cosima, and Nova, who use her as a weapon to defeat the dragons who have enslaved their people and killed their parents--Primus' kingdom! Hated as a traitor to her people, Carnelia's life becomes irreversibly changed when she is placed on the Southern throne as the Sun Queen, the sworn enemy of her mate's nation. Difficult choices await her as she and her prince as they find themselves in separate parts of the world on opposite sides of a brewing war. But despite the odds, a love like theirs cannot be denied. Even if it means burning down the world to bring them back together again. THIS IS THE THIRD and FINAL BOOK in the DRAGON PRINCE series which also includes "Sacrificed to The Dragon Prince" and "Reclaiming My Beloved Dragon Prince" .
Lihat lebih banyak[Carnelia]
I had always wanted to see the world. I never thought it would be chained to the deck of a ship, as a human slave.
My sisters, in their infinite mercy, thought it best for me to travel this way--collared and cuffed, iron around my ankles and wrists forcing my head and back to be bowed in submission as is the way with royal slaves. Covering me in rags and a cape of course cloth, nobody notices the technology around my neck, forcing me to maintain this unnatural state.
Stuck in my human form, nobody recognizes me as the celestial Queen Carnelia Majere. I am simply "Stella."
It has been three weeks of back-breaking misery since we left Elfholm. Since then I haven't had a single moment of peace. My sisters meant to break me, to force me into grateful service, and when pain didn't work, they tried humiliation. Like a common human captured to become a pet of a royal dragon, I am transported in shackles, my neck forced into an unnatural angle as too-short chains bind my neck and arms to my feet, making it impossible for me to bend up higher than waist height. So I stand here, day and night, at the mercy of every free man and drake who passes me, laughing as I'm forced to humiliate myself before them, devoid of privacy, unable to take care of my most basic needs in peace.
Sisters. These drakaina may be blood, but they are not my family. Family doesn't chain you. Family doesn't make you beg for mercy or laugh when you weep for your lost children and husband.
"Dearest Sister, look, our ship is about to dock," Cosima, the one with the short hair and the eyes that only see inside you, calls to me but I refuse to acknowledge her. She tries to show me mercy, but considering she also allows our sister to chain and humiliate me, her occasional moments of mercy does not go a long way to winning me over.
I don't look up, refusing to play along with their little game. They like to pretend they are not monsters. I will not let them fool themselves into believing they are kind.
Vega, the most innocent-seeming of the trio, jumps up and down with a child-like innocence. She is the same age as I am and went through similar horrors as she wandered the streets not knowing she was a dragon, but unlike me, she didn't grow brittle and old in spirit, she grew soft and childlike, so lost in herself that she often seems detached from reality.
"Ohh, the birds are so pretty! Is this really home? Is this where we come from."
"It was once," a voice like sharp steel scraping against stone screeches near my ear. Lyra, the leader of the trio, and my biggest tormenter, pulls on my coarse hair, pulling my chin upwards so that I have no choice but to stare ahead to where her taloned finger points.
"Look My Queen," she hisses mockingly. "Gaze upon your homeland. Watch as our people slave away for their colonizers. Your mate," she spits the word from her mouth as if it were poison, "His family did this. He allows it to continue. These are your people and your union with him is a betrayal to your kin."
On the shore, others with skin as dark as mine, some even darker, move along slowly, loading or unloading cargo from ships not much different than our own. Many of them are cuffed and collared as I am, forced to do the labor in human form. Others have their wings clipped and folded behind them, their larger bodies used to do bulkier work.
"And these were the lucky ones," she growls close to my ear. "These are the ones that were not pure enough to be placed in one of those hellish facilities to have their souls fuel the hearths of the Terrans. How many souls warmed your fire Queen Carnelia?" She uses my chosen name only during the times when she wants to be especially cruel when she wants to call me a traitor and force me to see the evils in the world.
Like right now.
Looking at the state of the Sun Dragons on shore, I feel the heat of anger rolling through my body. The cuff and collars grow hot around my neck as I dig my energy deep into the shadows, letting them lend me power.
Rather than stop me, Lyra smiles.
"That's right, sister. Let it go. Let it all go."
My rage burns brighter. The other dragons on our boat start shouting, demanding that my captors do something about me.
But it is too late. Too late for them, too late for all of us.
Reaching deep, I pull on the shadows, letting them weave their way into my soul, I craft a nightmare of tears and anguish. As it reaches an inner boiling point, I open my mouth as the cuffs and collar fall away, made useless by my surging power.
"Yes, Stella, let it go, let it free!" Lyra pulls her whip from her hip and with a loud crack, releases it into my back. Roaring in pain, my mouth opens wider and the nightmare spills forth, skipping across the water, aimed at the boats along the shoreline.
"No!" I gasp as I watch the shadow creature born from my anger and fear rage from one ship to the next, consuming the souls of all on board, human and dragon alike, without discrimination. With each life taken, I feel a surge of energy strengthen me, growing my power, rocking my body with a type of pleasure different from anything I've ever felt.
"No," weeping, I beg for them to make it stop, for it all to end, but Lyra laughs at my sorrow.
"You didn't feel guilty while you rutted with that foul Terran, but you feel shame at bringing justice to our oppressors?" she scoffs.
"We will heal you in holy fire," Cosima preaches, her hands touching the sides of my face, her blind eyes staring into my soul. "Open to me, Stella. Let me in."
I feel the moment her soul touches mine. She takes a small sip. And then another, cooling my wrath and bringing my nightmare under control.
"The void is grateful for your service," Cosima bows. "Great Messiah, welcome home."
[Carnelia]I felt the cold of the void behind me as I lay in bed, dreaming of my husband.And yet, as I opened my eyes, I felt a warm touch on my cheek and the deep, earthy scent of him so strong that I was sure I must still be dreaming.Turning towards the warmth and the delicious scent of crushed leaves and pine, I blinked my eyes up to see an impossibility.Primus, my husband and mate, is standing next to me."Am I still asleep," I croak as he places his palm more firmly on my cheek."If you are sleeping, so am I. Do you mind if this is a dream? He asks, the curve of his smile outlined with the warm flickering gaslight in my room. It is so much like our home in Ridgewood, the way the light bounces off the walls, that I wish we could be there right now, curled up together. Or even the castle in Emerald Cove, where we made love on every surface."Please tell me you're real," he kneels inside the nest I've created in the corner. It is cushioned like a bed but far larger, ready to accom
[Primus] I wasn’t sure what the voice meant at first. Nor did I know if I could trust it. How do I lean into shadows? Do I fall backward into the burning net? Do I turn sideways into the darkness of the room? “You’re overthinking,” the shadow man speaks again.“Just let go.” Let go of what? My anger? My suffering? "Your body," the darkness the voices in my mind. "Imagine yourself floating free of all of this. Think of your soul as being anchored to your feet and your head and just imagine peeling it back one small measure at a time." "What if I don't want to," I croak, my voice hoarse from screaming. "What if I say no?" The last time I was told to let go of my body I was being placed inside of a tank with tubes and wires as the Queen's technician hooked me up to a machine. "DON'T" the shadow booms, loud enough that I raise my hands to cover my ears. Blinking, I look around to see if the notice disturbed anyone else, someone who could confirm I'm not seeing things later when the
[Primus] Something strange happened on that beach, something I can’t quite explain because I don’t understand it completely myself. As I knelt in a defensive crouch, the humans encircled my location, the collar shining dully in their hands. I was still trying to play human, to get them to see reason, but my words fell around us like stones to be washed by the waves--meaningless and dull. "You are mistaken about me," I insist. "You guys know me. I was headed to join the crew when I came upon poor Melis. She was attacked by the stricken and... "Cut the crap, dragon," Remi, the first mate of the Merriweather, interrupts me. "I saw you at the tavern." The tavern, where I cut the innkeeper to ribbons to save his daughter from his abuse. "I don't know what you think you saw," I laugh, "But I'm just a minstrel." "Well then, if you're a minstrel, this won't matter," he holds up the collar. "These collars don't work on humans, only dragons, as I am sure you are aware, Primus since your b
017: Echoes [Carnelia] Standing before me, and behind me, are the same handsome drake. His skin is the color of wet river rocks, dark and smooth, his eyes bright flames. His hair is blacker than the darkest shadow as are his scales which glow with a cool iridescence. I have known his voice since before I was born, the sweet song of it haunting my dreams for a lifetime, lulling me to sleep even as I shivered with fear over the uncertainty of tomorrow. My sanity, my guardian. My father, Deklaan Talos Andromeda, First Magus, the last true shadowwalker. “Do you know me,” his voice is deep, rolling like thunder, rich and full with the promise of rain. “Yes,” I swallow, marveling at the vision before me. “Are you real?” “Yes and no,” he replies cryptically. “I am not here, but I am speaking to you.” “How can both be true?” I tilt my head. “Am I speaking to my father?” “How can you walk the shadows and not know that both can be true,” the mysterious drake raises an eyebrow. “We
[Carnelia] I can barely contain a shiver as I think of the possibilities. Nobody talks about what would happen if I were to open the void and lose control. Would everything die, like when my darkness is unleashed and sucks the souls of those it encounters, or would everything just cease to exist? Would we even realize anything had happened? I've considered asking the Grand Magus, but I know that if I voice my concerns too strongly, she'll see through my very carefully applied mask, the one that shows Rakasha the face of a true believer instead of the skeptic and that I am. Maybe if I had been raised as a sun dragon, I'd have more dedication to their cause. But I didn't grow up indoctrinated in their ways. I didn't even know I was a dragon until I met Primus. I want to ask, "Am I doing the right thing?" as I place my hand on the black dot. "What if I kill us all because you were wrong? What if I'm not your savior, but your destruction?" "Aka'naha," the Grand Magus takes the bowl fr
[Carnelia] The shadows are cold and lonely without him. Nothing makes sense without my lover by my side. But as long as I remain powerless and under the guidance of others, I will never get him back. I realize that now. I'll always be a victim waiting for the next powerful person to take control of my life. In the hallowed halls of the Magi, they are teaching me their truespeak, and the ways of walking the void. They are giving me a pathway to power. And though I know it could get me everything I want, I am finding it harder and hard to concentrate on my goal . Because I miss him. I miss him with all that I am. Letting my mind empty, I attempt to restart my meditation. Seeking the silent places of my mind, I reach out as the magi have taught me, into the great void. It is here that our dreams take us every night, visitors in a world where anything is possible but where only a few of us have the power to change things. When Primus was injured during the All Kingdome Faire, and
[Primus]Standing underneath the bright blue streetlight on the sloped street behind me is Melis in her tattered clothing, a torch clutched tightly in her hand. “I said leave him alone,” her voice rings out, loud enough to wake the dead. Or to scare them. The bodies surrounding me scatter back, reaching for the edges of the shadows and safety. The afflicted aren’t really dead, or at least, they never officially died. But they also aren’t what I’d call alive anymore, not really. The transformation that overtakes them steals their inhibitions and their pain, but amplifies their needs and wants to a point of madness. First, their bodies sicken with a fever that burns so hot their body becomes covered with blisters. When the sickness ends, they rise from their illness, their bodies slowly rotting. But because they do not feel pain in the same way as before, they rise stronger, and far less careful. There is only one exception to their lack of caution--fire. For the afflicted, it is a ba
[Primus] I couldn't let that poor girl suffer. Not once I heard her screaming. "I shouldn't care," I murmur to myself as I remember Carnelia in Crimson, surrounded by the angry townspeople, trapped by my nightmare of a brother who was determined to claim my mate for himself as a human slave, just to irk me. And even though that was practically another lifetime, I feel a tug on my heart as Carnelia's terrified face flashes before my vision and I forget to think. All I can do is feel. It doesn't matter that she isn't the one I love. I miss my mate so desperately that I would do anything to be in her arms once more. Maybe if I save this girl, it will save a bit of what is shattered inside of me with Carnelia dead and gone on the other side of the world. Flying without wings, I let enough of my true self to unwind as I make my way down the hall, past the kitchen, and into the main wind through the hall with the speed of a true Earth dragon, the very soil beneath my feet granting me s
[Primus] Melis looks smug, her hands on her hips, so sure that she is correct in her assumptions. "So what is it going to be," she demands, tapping her foot. "Are you going to do what I say, or do I tell the constable who you are and collect the reward," Meris raises an eyebrow, and I almost believe that she'd be willing to turn me in, just to prove a point. The thing is, I doubt she has any proof, regardless of what she says. Maybe she suspects something after the other morning when she was outside my room, but I've been careful not to leave a trace, not a single scale or a claw mark on the furniture -nothing to raise her suspicions when she enters my room to clean it. Something else is going on here. She must need to believe this impossible thing is true for some reason. It's funny that in her childish fantasies that I am a missing prince who can save her from her troubles, she guessed the truth. As Leon, I am nothing like I am as Primus. I spent decades refining this form, makin
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