A Kingdom of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 3)

“His grandfather on his father’s side, rest his soul, was a bear, actually,” the mother said.

“And his shift?” the master asked, looking intently at the boy. “It went well? His wings were intact?”

“Yes, sire.” The woman manhandled her son to get him to turn around before pulling up his shirt, exposing his back. An emerald-green stripe of scales cut down each side. “His eyes are now the same color as these scales, but otherwise he is fine. He could’ve died”—she took a beat to glare at her son—“but he succeeded in shifting on his own.”

“It hurt,” the boy grumbled.

“Yes, because you did it without guidance, you moron!” The woman slapped him upside the head. Clearly she’d been worried for her boy, and now that she knew he was fine, she was taking her fear out on him. My mom used to do that to me all the time when I was a kid.

The master leaned his weight from one foot to the other, looking intently at the boy. No emotions crossed his face, but my heart went out to the guy. This new dragon would need guidance to take to the sky, and the master could no longer offer it. He could no longer soar with his kind. He’d paid a helluva price for his father’s mistakes.

“We think, your highness,” the woman said, entwining her fingers in front of her, “that the suppression magic was what affected your shift. It stands to reason. Without it, we are free to shift without complication.”

“I see.” The master paused for another beat, looking over the gathering. “Give it a bit more time. Let’s see what happens with the other villages. If it is as you say, we’ll plan a first shift for the strongest of our youth. If all goes well, we’ll lead more of them through it. Start educating them now. Talk to them of the shifter ways. We need to get them up to speed.”

“Yes, sire. And…sire…” She squeezed her hands together before minutely rolling her shoulders. She’d had a good act going up until now, but suddenly her nerves were showing. It made me feel a bit better about the way my bowels twisted into knots every time I had to talk directly to the dragon prince. “Marcus—the boy there—is quite tall for his age. He’s taller than his father was. We have a few more boys and girls like that. Taller than the others. Stubborn youths, some of them. I wonder…” She lost steam, her words fading away.

The honey badger shifted back into her human form, putting on her robe before taking up the thread of the conversation.

“Folklore suggests that when a people are in great peril, a swell of dragons are born to defend them. It is the goddess’s way of defending her people.”

“Wolves can defend just as well,” someone grumbled, then grunted, probably elbowed to shut up. I would’ve agreed with him…if wolves could fly. Or breathe fire. The dragons had us there, and they knew it, the arrogant bastards.

“In times of peril, the dragons will rise,” someone murmured.

“Most of these youths were already born when the curse came into effect, though,” someone said.

The master slid his gaze my way.

I lifted my eyebrows in question, not able to read his…anything, really. I never knew what he was thinking.

“This kingdom was in turmoil long before the curse,” he finally said, swinging his golden gaze back to them. “We’ll know the truth of it soon.”

“Yes, sire,” the woman said, and she and her friend both curtsied. The gangly boy got shoved back the way he had come.

“Come.” The master turned and strode back toward the horses.

It was the first time he’d given me an actual command all day.

I nearly fell over myself to do as he said. “Yes, sir. Right at your— Somewhat behind your heels, sir. Should I call you sire now? I’m not sure where we stand with the whole don’t antagonize the demons with your title situation. I mean, you’ve killed most of the ones in the castle, so it hardly matters what they think…”

“Hannon, Finley’s brother,” he said after mounting, as though he hadn’t heard a word I’d spoken.

“Yes…sire?”

But I didn’t get an answer. He kept riding until we reached the stables at the castle, then put out his hand for the stable boy to bring his stallion. The boy scurried away to do just that.

“He is taller than his father, isn’t he?”

I blinked a few times, thinking, then shook my head. “I don’t think I ever saw them next to each other. He’s big, though. Tall, broad. He’s the biggest in their village, I think. And Finley was the tallest girl. I remember her saying that. She was tall for a guy in her village, even.”

He grunted as his stallion came. In a moment, he swung onto its back before guiding it around and looking down at me.