Chapter One

     The sun dawns, golden hues of fiery light rushing across the lands of my horde. My feet pad across the slick stone floor. Gusts of early morning air blow through the mountain caverns, bringing a sweet dewy scent with them. Flavius's rough hand caresses mine as we make our way through the mountain to the tomb where my brother rests.

     As we walk through the halls, horde members pass by respectfully bowing their heads at me. They acknowledge and respect me as chieftain, but I cannot say the same about Flavius. Dragon slayers have long been the enemy of dragons. Welcoming one into the heart of our home is far from safe in the minds of my horde members. Had Flavius not been my mate, I would have felt the same.

      I watch as Flavius sends a sideways glance at some of the passing members. He lets out an exhausted sigh once again, pointing his face forward.

   "It'd seem I still have a long way to go. Much of your horde still looks at me with contempt," he comments.

     "Dragons have been reclusive for many years now, and we are very wary of outsiders. Not to mention your kind is our natural enemy."

    "You're right, I suppose," he says, flashing me a broad smile.

     "Do not worry, they will accept you in time," I assure him, "Dragon slayers played a major part during The Fires of Alira. Much of my horde lived back in those days. Time may not heal all wounds, but understanding can."

     "I didn't realize your horde members were that old," he replies.

     "Not all of them, but many of them served during the war. Dragon slayers used the war as a way to eradicate all of my kind, which is why there are not many slayers left today," I explain.

     "Your people did what needed to be done," he says.

"I suppose we did."

    As we continue through the halls, we finally make it to the tomb entrance. The tomb guard, Loden, stands at the entrance. He wears a silver pendant reflecting his military status as an officer, and his long orange hair is pulled back neatly. As we approach the tomb, Loden nods in acknowledgment. I nod back as we enter.

     The dim torch lights flicker and dance about the room as we walk farther in. Towards the back, of the room sits my brother's coffin. Slowly I approach the coffin lightly dusting my hand over the top. The cool marble nips at my fingertips as I banish the dust from atop it.

     "It has been a long time since I last visited my brother, but I felt now is the perfect time. I have finally avenged him, and now he can be free," I whisper.

     "I'm sure your brother's very proud. So many things have happened because of you, both good and bad, granted, but most importantly, you've avenged him," Flavius murmurs, placing a hand on my shoulder.

     I turn and look up into his deep brown eyes, torch lights dancing through them like a grand waltz of fiery dresses. A soft smile traces my lips.

    "Since I have brought you here, I am going to teach you some very sacred dragon formalities that are used to honor the dead. Learning horde customs is necessary if you want the horde to accept you," I tell him.

    Reaching out, I grab Flavius by the hand, guiding him to the ground. We both kneel in front of the coffin.

     "Place both your hands together so your palms are touching, then bow three times," I instruct him.

    Flavius does as I tell him, and I quickly follow suit. When we are done, I turn to face him with a soft smile.

    "Thank you for coming here with me. It has been so long since I have visited my brother," I say.

    Flavius places a gentle hand on my shoulder, lightly squeezing, "Of course," he whispers back.

     Standing up and stretching out my body, I glance around the tomb with a sigh.

     "We should get going. I have a war meeting starting soon and as the chieftain, it will look bad if I am late," I say.

    Nodding, Flavius stands up. He reaches out to me, grabbing my hand and placing it in his. We walk back through the tomb, our footsteps echoing about. When we reach the entrance, I give Loden a parting nod.

    We walk through the mountain. Torches dimly light the rocky walls, the soft sound of our feet hitting the cool stone floor fills the silence of our walk. I used to leave my brother with a heaviness pressing on me but now I walk away with a clear heart and mind. I am no longer being eaten by guilt.

     Flavius rubs his thumb over the top of my hand. The action causes me to look up at him.

     "What was your brother like?" He asks in a low tone.

     "My brother was a gallant blue dragon. For his young age, he was very wise; I never once saw my brother lose his composure. He was kind, but only to those deserving. On the battlefield, he could be cold and indifferent, but he never looked down on an enemy, and gave them a death befitting their sacrifice. My brother would have made a great leader, one who upheld justice and treated his people fairly," I tell him.

     "To have met him would've been a great honor. You talk so highly of him, but you don't give yourself enough credit," Flavius murmurs.

     "Unlike myself, Fafnir was loved and respected by the horde. I was never quite as good as him at dealing with others. My temper is always quick to take over, as you would know. He died protecting me, knowing he would have made a far better leader."

     "You're not your brother. It's unfair to compare yourself to him, Ellie; you were quite young when he passed. That left much room for improvement," Flavius says, gazing down at me.

     "I seem to always be telling how right you are," I chuckle.

      I kiss the top of Flavius's hand and we continue on in silence. We reach the war chamber and enter with haste. The room is small with an opening in the back allowing the light of the sun to filter in. Already gathered in the room are Soren, Dovydas, and Norveig, the horde's war chief.

    Norveig is tall and slender, adorned with long pale blue hair that touches her mid-back. Her skin is pale like the moon, smooth and clear. Her face is shaped like a diamond with defined cheekbones. Her eyes are the smoldering color of burning coal. Norveig is dressed in similar black leather garments as me.

     As Flavius and I march into the room, all eyes turn towards us, and those gathered greet us with a nod. We take a seat at the round stone table in the middle of the room. Once we are seated, everyone else follows. 

     "It has been three days since I have taken over the horde. I have gathered you all here in order to heed your advice about this oncoming war," I explain in a dooming voice.

    Norveig stands up, facing me. "I am glad you have asked for our advice. As of right now, I have one female warrior out gathering information. So far, I know that Betsalel is a horde of dragons with affinities, leaving us at a grave disadvantage."

    "What is your suggestion to counter their affinities?" I ask.

     "I remember my time on the battlefield during the Fires of Alira. Although fighting dragons with magical affinities is very difficult, my suggestion would be to make allies with a horde that also has magic affinities. That will not only bridge our disadvantage, but increase our strength as well," she says.

    "Allies would be of great help, but the Perilous horde has kept to itself for so long, I am not sure who would be willing to help us. My father did a good job at destroying the allies we once had," I voice.

    Soren then clears his throat and stands up. "Might I suggest we try the Horde of Fates? From what I know, they were allies of your grandfather during the Fires of Alira. Surely they will help us," he suggests.

     "I did hear that the dragons of the Horde of Fates were the only dragons with magical affinities that sided with my grandfather," I say.

     "Then it is decided. You will travel to the Horde of Fates," Norveig confirms.

     "Yes. If possible, I would like to depart within the next two days. I will be bringing Soren and Flavius with me while I travel. Norveig, Dovydas, during my absence I am leaving matters of the horde up to you," I say.

     "You can count on us," Dovydas reassures me with a bright smile.

     "I will begin preparations for your departure, so please be ready. You should know, Eleonora, that the lands of the Horde of Fates is covered in snow; they have blizzards almost daily. These lands are very dangerous. Be sure your mate is well-protected; humans are very weak against the cold," Norveig informs me with a face of indifference.

     "Duly noted. I will make sure the proper precautions are taken to ensure the safety of everyone traveling with me. Now if you will excuse me, there are some things I still have yet to take care of," I say. Standing up the sound of my chair screeching against the hard stone floor echoing.

      Flavius stands up with me, following me out the door. I breathe a hushed sigh of relief, my body relaxing ever so slightly.

     "I do not know about you, but I could use a break," I say stretching my arms above my head.

     Flavius let's out a quiet chuckle. "We're barely in that room for ten minutes and you all ready need a break?" He teases with a loose smile.

     "If I am being honest, Norveig makes me nervous. You might not know this, but she helped my grandfather create the Perilous Horde after The Fires. Her approval means a lot. Though I never got to know her personally, I respect her greatly. If she were to form a foul opinion of me, I am not sure what I would do," I tell him.

     Flavius grabs my hand, sending a tingling sensation throughout my body as we begin walking down the hall.

     "If Norveig didn't approve of you, she would have had you removed as chieftain, considering the power she holds. I don't think you have anything to worry about," he reassures me.

     "Yes, you are right," I chuckle.

     We walk through the mountain in silence until we reach my room. I toss myself onto the bed, turning on my side. The bed dips next to me as Flavius snakes his arms around me, pulling me into his firm chest. I close my eyes, allowing his warmth to soak into me as my mind fogs over, pulling me into a comfortable rest.