They spent the rest of the day in the depths of the palace, exploring the dusty rooms at the far reaches of the living quarters. And it was a red-letter day as explorations went—drawn by the unusual feeling of a breeze against his skin, Seth found a door, seemingly locked but in truth only jammed, that led to a sloping stone passageway, its walls much more roughly hewn than the smoothed and polished interiors of the rest of the palace. They followed the winding tunnel, clearing rubble and debris as they went, and were finally rewarded with the unmistakable sound of birdsong and the wind stirring in the trees.
“I knew it,” Josef whooped, his elation vivid on his face. “I knew they’d have a secret escape route!”
“Makes sense that the royal family would have a sneaky way out,” Elza said, shaking her head. But Seth could tell the discovery had pleased her more than she was letting on. The four of them were in good spirits as they headed back down the passageway. Seth found his mind straying back to Lana, like it always did if he didn’t keep a close eye on it. He couldn’t wait to tell her about their discovery. She’d be thrilled by the prospect of a secret passageway. And maybe, a treacherous thought intruded, just maybe, the passage might allow for them to keep seeing each other, even after his stay in the palace had come to an end…
It was almost dinnertime when they got back to the palace, but the atmosphere in the building was curiously still. It wasn’t unusual not to see anyone in the expansive rooms, but Seth began to worry when he checked the dining room where their meals were usually served to find that the table hadn’t even been set. Where was everyone? They regrouped a little later, and Seth could tell by the worried looks on his pack’s faces that they hadn’t found anyone, either.
“At least we have a way out if they’re all dead or something.”
“Elza!”
“What? If all the dragons are gone, I don’t like the prospect of climbing the inside of this stupid mountain to get home, do you?”
“I’m sure there’s an explanation,” Seth said, frowning. But he was worried. He’d even checked Lana’s room, after making certain that none of his pack were following him… but the Queen, too, had been nowhere to be found. The four of them cooked themselves a meal in one of the palace kitchens, a little unnerved by the absence of their hosts. For the first time since he’d first kissed Lana, Seth went to bed alone.
It didn’t take long, the next day, to discover the source of the mystery, and Seth was surprised at just how quickly confusion could turn to anger. They’d awoken to find the palace as empty as it had been the day before, save for a single member of the staff, not in uniform, who was clearly on his way out of the building. Seth cornered him, and though he seemed a little reluctant, he eventually explained that the staff had been given two days off so that they could prepare for and then attend the coronation.
“The coronation,” Seth said blankly. “When? Where?”
The dragon hesitated, just for a moment. “The information is all on the invitation,” he said, stressing the word ‘invitation’ ever so slightly. What more was there to say? Seth stepped back, wordlessly letting the dragon leave.
He was utterly blindsided. Lana hadn’t even told him when the coronation was happening. Sure, she’d mentioned it in passing, usually in the context of how complicated all the planning was… he’d just assumed that she’d let him know when the event itself was coming up. He’d also assumed that he and his pack would be invited, if not because of what he meant to Lana, then because of who he was, politically speaking. The Alpha of the wolf pack that shared the lands that the Queen was to rule over. Had that assumption been naive of him?
His wolves weren’t nearly as conflicted when he filled them in. Josef was hurt, Victor was outraged, and Elza was grimly unsurprised. All of them were unanimous, though, in agreeing that it was a terrible insult. And how could Seth disagree with them? How could he argue that it must have been a mistake, that Lana wouldn’t do something like this to him?
When he marched into the palace offices to confront the Prince, part of him was desperately hoping that Conrad would greet him with a sincere apology, an in-depth explanation of whatever comedy of errors had led to their invitation being misdirected. Perhaps a messenger had been sent while the four of them were in the passageway? But Conrad’s cool demeanor barely shifted when Seth demanded an explanation. He was formally dressed and he looked stressed—it was clear he was on his way out of the offices, and that encountering Seth had not been a part of his plan for the day. Well, too bad.
“We didn’t think it appropriate to extend an invitation,” Conrad explained, his voice cool and remote. “Given the current… tensions. Many members of the community wouldn’t have felt safe in the presence of wolves, and a coronation is above all an event at which the monarch’s subjects must feel safe.”
“Who’s ‘we’?” Seth demanded through gritted teeth. “Who decided to exclude us?” Conrad’s expression hardened, just a little.
“I’ll remind you that you are guests here. Valuable as your diplomatic mission may be, you are not entitled to inclusion in every ceremony we hold.”
“We’ve been here for weeks,” Seth said through gritted teeth. “Playing nice, being patient as you drag your feet over every single request we made. You understand that this insult is beyond the pale.”
“Is it?” Conrad’s expression was cold as the stone the building was carved from. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Talking to Conrad was clearly pointless. “Where’s Lana?”
“Her Majesty the Queenis deep in preparation for her coronation,” Conrad snapped, and Seth bristled at the implied correction. “If you’d like to set up a meeting, I can arrange that once the ceremony is complete.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Seth said, barely hearing his own voice over the sound of his wolf growling in his chest. In that moment, he would have liked nothing more than to let the shift rip through him, to leap across the table and tear Conrad’s throat out. It would have been suicide, of course—for himself, and for every single member of his pack. But for one blinding moment, it was the only thing he could think about. Finally, the rage cleared enough for him to turn on his heel and walk out, his body almost vibrating with anger and betrayal.
How had he let himself trust a dragon, of all people? His whole head was full of ancestral memories of dragons… a long, violent history of disrespect and violence, of simmering tension or all-out war. Dragons can’t be trusted, that was the headline of their hundreds of years of history. They don’t view us as equals, and they never will. Any peace with them will be fleeting, no agreement with them can be trusted. He’d been a fool to come here, and even more of a fool to put the safety of his pack and his people on the line by staying here.
He stormed into the room, the other wolves already on their feet when he turned to look at them … and he didn’t need to say a word to make them understand. It was Elza who moved to his side and took his shoulder in a strong, reassuring grip, squeezing it hard. He clapped her on the back. And without so much as a word, the four of them turned and headed for the tunnel they’d discovered, as if it had been placed there in readiness for this betrayal.
They emerged into the forest, and Seth paused just long enough to take a deep, steadying breath of the cool, fresh air. This was where he belonged. Not underground with those soulless lizards, and certainly not in Lana’s bed, keeping her entertained in between her more important work. He belonged here, in the forest with his pack.
The four of them exchanged nods… and then, within seconds, they’d melted into the forest and disappeared from view.
Chapter 13 - Lana
Lana lifted the jewel-encrusted scepter in her right hand for what felt like the twentieth time that day, working hard to keep the expression on her face serene and dignified even as she fought not to giggle at the absurdity of it all. She’d been standing on this rocky platform for at least an hour while the oldest dragon she’d ever seen read page after page from a book that looked older than the cavern they stood in. Someone had explained the ceremony to her as part of the in-depth preparations that had taken the better part of the last few days, but she hadn’t anticipated just how…in-depththe readings were going to get. The way the scholar had phrased it, she’d been imagining a few minutes of reading at the most. This was getting to the feature-length territory.
At least they were done with the first part of the ceremony, the part where everyone had been required to be in their dragon shapes. That part had involvedchoreography—an elaborate sequence of wings folding and unfolding, of talons being raised and lowered, all of it bearing some ancient significance that Lana knew in her heart she would never understand. And who, exactly, was it benefiting? Certainly not the dragons who’d all gathered obediently to witness it. Though dragon faces were notoriously much less expressive than human ones, she could still pick the subtle signs of boredom… a nodding head here, a half-lidded eye there, the restless shifting of wings echoing through the cavern like a whisper. And Lana certainly didn’t want to be here. Memorizing the choreography had been incredibly stressful, for a start. She’d have been happy with a glass of champagne and a few words of thanks in a bar somewhere, then drinks and dancing to celebrate.
But her mother’s voice echoed in the back of her mind over and over, keeping her calm. Tradition, her mother had always told her, was a conversation between the past and the future. And for dragons, the past was important. If she was going to lead them into the future, she knew she needed to prove that she could honor their past… even if it made her feel like she was going to go mad.