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  To lovers of dragons and Dragon Kings—

  There is nothing more magical, enchanting, or thrilling as dragons!

  Thank you for letting my Dragon Kings into your hearts.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  A special shout-out to everyone at SMP for getting this book ready, including the amazing art department for such a gorgeous cover. Much thanks and appreciation goes to my extraordinary editor, Monique Patterson, who I can’t ever praise enough.

  To my fantastic agent, Natanya Wheeler, who fell in love with dragons!

  Hats off to my incredible readers and those in the DG Groupies FB group for keeping the love of the Dragon Kings alive. Words can’t say how much I adore y’all.

  A special thanks to my children, Gillian and Connor, as well as my family for the never-ending support.

  PROLOGUE

  Long, long ago …

  The smell of death permeated the air, sinking into everything. Nikolai stood next to his deceased mother. He nudged her as he attempted to flap his small wings. His stomach rumbled with hunger as fear took root. He looked around and saw the body of his father not far off, but he didn’t go to him.

  It was the horror of it all that sent Nikolai burrowing beneath his mother’s wing. He didn’t know where to go or what to do. The last thing his parents told him was to remain close.

  He had no idea how long he stayed, starving, scared, and alone before something large blocked the sun. He peeked around his mother’s wing and saw the giant shadow that flew over him. It passed thrice more before he felt the ground shudder when the dragon landed.

  Had they returned to kill him?

  Suddenly, his mother’s wing was lifted, and he found himself staring into the obsidian eyes of a silver dragon. Nikolai warily watched the large dragon. He felt the push against his mind and hesitantly opened the link.

  “Hello, lad,” the dragon said.

  Nikolai lifted his head and released a growl of warning, hoping it would send the Silver away. Nikolai was the son of a great dragon. He wouldn’t cower, no matter how frightened he was.

  The Silver glanced behind him before he returned his solemn gaze to Nikolai. The black orbs were filled with sadness. So was his voice when he asked, “What happened?”

  Once more, Nikolai growled.

  The Silver stared at him, admiration flickering in his dark depths. “I’m no’ here to hurt you. I’ve come to help. Now, tell me what happened.”

  Nikolai paused, unsure what to do. He wanted to trust the Silver, but fear held him in check. He rubbed up against his mother for comfort—and guidance—but her scales were now cold.

  He was alone. Save for this one dragon, who claimed to want to help. There really wasn’t a choice for him. Nikolai had to take a chance. He drew in a breath, his chest puffing out as wisps of smoke drifted from his nostrils. “Ivories came and fought my da. Then they killed mum while she hid me.”

  “They would’ve likely killed you, as well.” The Silver released a long sigh. “Do you have anyone I can take you to?”

  Nikolai shook his head. If he had other family, he didn’t know of them.

  “Then I’ll care for you.”

  At this, hope filled Nikolai. “You’ll help me?”

  “I willna allow you to starve, lad, or leave you to the dragons who did this. Because they will return. I must talk to your King, however. He needs to know what happened.”

  “Who are you?”

  The Silver smiled. “Ulrik. King of Silvers.”

  King? Nikolai was shocked to find he was speaking to a Dragon King.

  “And you are?” Ulrik asked.

  “Nikolai.”

  “Well, Nikolai, can you fly yet?”

  He shook his head as he walked from beneath his mother’s wing. “Mum and Da have been helping me.”

  “Then we need to get you in the air.”

  Nikolai stretched out his wings and flapped them quickly as he jumped into the air, but he promptly fell to the ground, awkwardly tripping so that he landed on his face. He shook his head and got back up, repeating the process again and again while Ulrik gave words of encouragement and praise, as well as pointers.

  Growing tired, Nikolai tried once more. He set his jaw and jumped as high as he could, his wings beating frantically. The wind glided over him a heartbeat before his wings caught a current.

  And this time, he didn’t fall.

  With each beat of his wings, he flew higher.

  A large shape came beneath him. Ulrik smiled up at him. “Your parents would be proud.”

  At the mention of his family, Nikolai dipped a wing and made a wobbly turn to fly over their bodies. Ulrik remained with him the entire time.

  After several passes, Nikolai said, “I doona want to leave them.”

  “I know, lad, but you can no’ stay either. We’ll return with some of my Silvers to give them a proper burial.”

  Nikolai’s stomach rumbled then, reminding him that it had been hours since he’d eaten. “I’ll hold you to your word.”

  Ulrik’s response was a nod of approval. They didn’t speak again as they approached the land of the Silvers. It bordered the Ivories’, and though the two clans weren’t enemies, they weren’t exactly allies either. That was something Nikolai’s parents had felt relevant enough to teach him as soon as he hatched.

  Nikolai’s wings grew tired, but he refused to say anything to Ulrik. He still wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that the King of the Silvers was taking him in.

  No sooner had Ulrik begun to descend from the sky than he suddenly swung around. The King’s wing nudged him, and Nikolai obeyed the silent command. It wasn’t long until he saw the reason—Avgust, the King of the Ivories, was flying toward them.

  The three landed. The fact that Nikolai didn’t trip over his feet made him puff out his chest as he stood next to Ulrik—even if his wings did tremble from the exertion. The two Kings shifted to their human forms. Word quickly spread, and soon, both silver and ivory dragons gathered around them.

  “What are you doing with one of my dragons?” Avgust demanded.

  Ulrik glanced at Nikolai. “Helping him.”

  “He should’ve come to me.”

  “He just learned to fly,” Ulrik stated. “He was orphaned and alone, his parents killed by other Ivories.”

  Avgust’s gaze swung to Nikolai. “Is that true, lad? Did Ivories kill your parents?”

  Nikolai nodded, his gaze locked on Avgust.

  Avgust turned to his dragons. “I want those responsible brought to me by day’s end tomorrow.” Then he faced Nikolai. “I’ll see justice done.”

  Nikolai bowed his head as he said, “Thank you,” through the mental link.

  “Come here, lad,” Avgust said.

  Though Nikolai couldn’t pinpoint what it was, something told him to remain with Ulrik. He was trying to find the words to tell his King when Ulrik put his hand on Nikolai’s back.

  “We’ll meet tomorrow for th
e burial of his parents and to see those responsible brought to justice,” Ulrik declared.

  Nikolai looked up at the King of the Silvers. Ulrik remained calm, but his voice brokered no argument. His father would’ve liked Ulrik. As young as Nikolai was, he understood the great dragon Ulrik was—and that Avgust was afraid of him.

  With a curt nod, Avgust shifted, and all of the Ivories flew away. Nikolai watched them, not at all concerned that he was no longer with his clan.

  When he looked back at Ulrik, the King of the Silvers was once more in dragon form. “If you wish to go with your clan tomorrow, I understand. But,” Ulrik said, “if you want to remain with me, you’ll be in my household. I’ll train you to fight, and in magic, as well as all the ways of a dragon. You’ll be a member of my clan always. But after what I witnessed from you this day, I suspect you have another path that will eventually return you to the Ivories.”

  “I want to stay with you,” Nikolai said.

  “Then we should get you fed. Ready?”

  Nikolai’s wings ached, but he gave a nod. If the King of the Silvers were going to offer to mentor him, he was going to be the best dragon he could be—for his father and for Ulrik.

  He quickly launched himself into the air, his little wings flapping hard and fast. And when Ulrik joined him, smiling, Nikolai felt pride as the fear of earlier began to lessen. The tears for his parents would come later when he was alone. For now, he was in the company of greatness with a future ahead of him that stretched as far as the horizon.

  “You’re doing great, lad.”

  Nikolai beamed. “I willna let you down.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  Dreagan Manor

  I willna let you down.

  The words he’d spoken to Ulrik reverberated through Nikolai’s head like a bell tolling. He blew out a frustrated breath and sat up. Tossing aside the blanket, he swung his legs over the bed as he hung his head.

  The few hours of sleep he’d managed were filled with dreams of his years with Ulrik. The Silvers had accepted Nikolai, though they hadn’t made his life easy. Their actions, in part, were what strengthened him.

  The day Nikolai challenged Avgust for the right to rule the Ivories, there was only one who had stood by his side—Ulrik. The King of the Silvers had begun as a father figure, but soon became a brother in the truest sense of the word.

  Nikolai held out his hands, palms up, and looked at them. The last time he had seen or spoken to Ulrik was right before they stripped the Silver of his magic and banished him.

  It didn’t matter how many millennia passed, the burden of standing against Ulrik still weighed heavily upon Nikolai. It’s why he had taken to his mountain with the others and woke only one other time.

  He’d still be asleep if Con hadn’t forced him to wake. The fact that Nikolai would most likely have to fight the man he called brother only worsened the situation.

  Squeezing his hands into fists, he fought back the tide of regret. He drew in a deep breath and rose to his feet. Striding into the bathroom, he turned on the water in the shower.

  He couldn’t remember a time when there hadn’t been tension running through the manor, but it was getting worse. Every Dragon King knew that the battle between Ulrik and Constantine, the King of Kings, was coming any day now.

  No one wanted to see Ulrik dead, but if he won, then the vows made by each of them to protect the mortals would pit them against Ulrik, who wanted nothing more than to wipe the humans from the face of the earth.

  In order to prevent that, Con would have to kill Ulrik.

  Nikolai stepped beneath the hot spray of water and braced his hands on the wall. He’d sided against Ulrik once. It had been the right choice, but there wasn’t a day that passed where Nikolai didn’t wonder if he should’ve chosen differently.

  This time, the choice would be out of his hands. This time, the battle between Ulrik and Con would have lasting effects on every being in the realm—mortal and immortal alike.

  If only that were all the Kings had to worry about, but unfortunately, it was only a small piece of a very large pie filled with nothing but enemies who were focused on everyone at Dreagan.

  Nikolai put his face in the water and closed his eyes. The Dark Fae were a serious problem for the mortals because they fed off their souls by having sex with them. To make matters worse, there was talk that Ulrik had joined forces with them.

  At least that was the theory. Sebastian claimed that Ulrik wasn’t responsible for everything, that Ulrik’s uncle, Mikkel, was the one the Kings should be hunting.

  Nikolai leaned back and began to wash. He recalled Ulrik having an uncle, but not the name. Nikolai hoped Sebastian was right. Regardless, Bast had left for Venice without Con’s approval in order to uncover proof about Mikkel.

  That was a week ago. There had been no word from Sebastian, and Con had departed for Venice the night before to locate Bast.

  The only good thing was now that MI5 no longer had a presence at the distillery, the ban on the Dragon Kings shifting had been lifted. It felt amazing to take to the skies again.

  Nikolai ran a hand through his hair to get the shampoo out. Then he turned off the water and grabbed a towel to dry off. He walked out of the shower and frowned at the pile of clothes that he’d forgotten to hang up the previous day.

  He tossed aside his towel and began putting away the clothes in his closet. As he did, he grabbed a pair of jeans and put them on. He then made his way to the chest in his bedroom. After he put away a stack of clothes, he paused and looked at the painting above his bed. It was the first thing he’d done for himself after he discovered what his power was.

  He stared at the idyllic mountain scene with lakes so pure you could see straight to the bottom. Flying together in the bright blue sky were his parents. It was the only thing that hung on his walls other than his sword.

  As he made up his bed, there was a soft knock on his door. He didn’t look up as he bade whoever it was enter while he bent, tidying the comforter. The door opened, but it took him a second to realize that no one had spoken. When he straightened, he was shocked to find Esther North standing there.

  The British beauty was still in the doorway, her hand upon the knob as her gaze locked on the various drawings that were scattered about his room, hung on lines he had strung, or sitting on easels.

  Her lustrous brunette tresses hung free about her shoulders. She wore an oversized gray sweater that hid her curves and dropped past her hips over a pair of black leggings. Fuzzy white socks that had a kitten face atop them, complete with a pink nose and whiskers, encased her feet.

  The longer she stood there staring, the more he was able to gaze at her striking features at his leisure. The MI5 agent had captivated him from the very beginning when a Druid got into Esther’s mind to control her with magic.

  The Dragon Kings managed to undo the Druid’s work, but there were side effects. The memories of the time Esther spent with the Druid were missing. It made Esther a liability, but she was allowed to remain because of one very important factor—she was Henry North’s sister.

  Henry, also MI5, worked with the Dragon Kings to track the activities of the Dark Fae in an attempt to figure out their next move. It was uncommon for the Kings to trust humans, but Henry was an exception.

  And so was his sister.

  Nikolai knew Esther’s face. His power allowed him to conjure every detail about her from just one look. From the small, nearly hidden scar on her left wrist from some childhood accident, to the confident way she held herself.

  He knew her hair wasn’t just brown. It had strands of the softest shade of walnut, darker tones that deepened into chocolate, and lighter streaks of amber. He knew the curve of her face, and how she lifted her chin when she was angry. He knew the lines in her brow from the expressive way she spoke. He knew her mouth and how her bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top.

  He knew her round eyes and the deep shade of brown along with the band of black that encircled he
r irises. He knew the slope of her breasts, the indent of her waist, and the flare of her hips. He knew the way she preferred to wear muted colors to help her blend in with a crowd.

  It had taken but one look to put all that to memory, but he found his gaze going to her again and again as if he couldn’t get enough.

  That fact was only one reason he kept drawing Esther. The other was that he had no choice.

  She filled his mind like no other had before.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Esther was shocked. And that wasn’t an easy thing to do.

  Her eyes moved from one sketch of her to another, each depicting different areas of Dreagan she had been to—the manor, the distillery, or strolling through the snow in the Dragonwood.

  There were even pictures of her walking the caves inside the mountain connected to the manor. The drawing she stared at the longest was the one where she had stood at the entrance to the cavern where four of Ulrik’s largest silver dragons were kept, sleeping within a cage.

  The look on her face was one of awe and curiosity. Though she remembered feeling fear at the idea of Ulrik killing Con and releasing those dragons to wipe out humanity.

  But in many of the instances, she knew Nikolai hadn’t been there. How then had he drawn them? His power of projected thermography allowed him to see something once and paint it, draw it, or weave it. But if he hadn’t been there…?

  As her eyes moved from one side of the room to the other, they clashed with a bare-chested Nikolai. Her mouth went dry as she stared at his chiseled form.

  The Dragon King had a way of making her forget whatever she was thinking every time she looked into his baby blue eyes. But that’s not what her gaze lingered on now. It was his tattoo. She knew every Dragon King had one, but this was her first time seeing Nikolai’s, and it was stunning.

  Starting at his right wrist was the tail of the dragon that snaked up his arm to his bicep where the body of the animal began. The back claws looked as if they were digging into Nikolai’s arm as its wings were tucked.