Darkest Flame

If it wasn’t for the Silvers, Kellan fully believed the Kings would have scattered, not just across the earth, but across the realms.

 

Con kept the hope alive regarding their dragons, but Kellan knew the truth. Their dragons would never return. The humans were too many. There was no place for dragons on earth, and he was beginning to wonder if there was even a place for Dragon Kings.

 

Earth had been theirs for millions of years before humans came. The realm was supposed to have been shared, but that had gone to shit in a short time.

 

The pride of being a Dragon King no longer remained. They were hidden, the secret of their shifting kept tightly guarded. No one knew of their powers or immortality.

 

Not that he blamed Con and the others for the decisions they had made regarding Dreagan. The humans had always been too easy to riot, too effortless to frighten, and too dense to think for themselves.

 

They had a pack mentality that was too easy to put into play by a few humans who could rile them into a frenzy and get them to do whatever they wanted.

 

Even now, with all the technology and paranormal things being found and investigated, the humans wouldn’t accept that there were Dragon Kings. They wouldn’t accept one of the Warriors either.

 

The humans claimed to want to find beings with paranormal abilities, but it was just a statement. Some would run away screaming in fear, some would try to kill them, and still others would try and capture a Dragon King so they could “study” him. Which everyone knew meant dissecting.

 

Now Kellan comprehended there would be a few, a very select few, like Denae, Cassie, Elena, and Jane who would accept the Dragon Kings for who they were.

 

He looked down at Denae to find her cheek resting against his shoulder. Kellan gently tucked her long, coppery brown hair behind her ear.

 

In the short time he had known her, she’d been stabbed, shot, accosted by the Dark Fae, and belted with a large amount of Dark Fae magic.

 

She’d taken it all without so much as a grumble. Denae was a trained fighter, with an intelligent, cunning mind. She was easy to smile, quick-witted, and deft with retorts from her sharp tongue.

 

Her body was amazingly taut, with all the wonderful, feminine curves he’d always enjoyed. She had the most stunning hair, and eyes that held him transfixed from the first moment he’d dared to look into the whisky-colored depths.

 

The question of what would happen once they reached Dreagan wouldn’t be difficult to answer. He wanted Denae to remain. Kellan might not be ready to offer her forever, but he wasn’t ready for her to leave yet.

 

He had the perfect argument as well. MI5 was still looking for her, and after cutting off Taraeth’s arm, the Dark Ones would also be after her.

 

There was no safer place than on Dreagan.

 

Kellan was confident he could convince Denae to stay, and if words didn’t work, he was prepared to use his hands, mouth, and body to change her mind.

 

Just thinking of sliding into her tight body again had him hard and aching.

 

He released a pent-up breath and raised his gaze to find Tristan watching him with a slight smile. Tristan gave him a nod of approval and turned to look out the window at the passing scenery.

 

Kellan ran a hand through his wet hair and began planning the night ahead with Denae. It would be one without interruptions of any kind, one he vowed she would remember for the rest of her life.

 

Just as he knew he would.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

 

 

Rhi didn’t go to her queen when the Kings departed Ireland. Instead, she went to her cottage. As soon as she entered the small house, she fell face-first onto the bed of black-and-pink lace and let the tears come that she had been holding back.

 

Tears for Balladyn, but also tears for herself.

 

She hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to be around the Kings and not think of … him. Of their time together, and the wild love that had developed.

 

How many centuries had it been since she had last felt his arms around her?

 

How many since she had tasted his lips?

 

How many since she had felt cherished?

 

Loved?

 

Too damn many.

 

Rhi rolled onto her back but didn’t bother to wipe the tears that now trailed into her hair by her temples. It was odd. She thought she was past the tears, but just being around the Kings seemed to trigger the past—no matter how she tried to bury it.

 

And Balladyn. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact he was now Dark. Her queen was going to be devastated. Not nearly as much as she was, however.

 

Balladyn had always been a part of her life, even when she was just a young girl. He’d been her brother’s best friend and always around.

 

Then the Fae Wars had begun. Rhi could still recall standing with her mother as her father, her brother, and Balladyn gave one last wave as they headed off to war.

 

Balladyn was the only one to return.