Reclaiming My Beloved Dragon Prince

My husband, Primus. Is dead.My mate gave his life because he loved his wife and children so much that he was willing to die for them to have a chance at life.Primus was the very best of mates. He taught me how to love.I would gladly die a million deaths to have him by my side again.But he died at his own brother's hands, another victim of the Starfell War.Or at least, that is what I need to tell myself, because to admit the truth would be madness.My wings, as black as night, float around me as they transform, and I fall into my preferred form, one more human than dragon. Now they are the gossamer sleeves of an elegant silk gown, my scales are gold sequins that make up the bodice and skirt. My hair, braided in hundreds of golden tendrils, is piled upon my head, the crown gifted to me on my wedding day woven between the strands.On my wrist, a black bangle connects me to the Celestial Realm. On my hand, the ring that once connected me to my love.I never thought I'd return to this

[Carnelia]I tried to stay strong and be regal and centered, but seeing my babies suffer made me hesitate to leave them even for a moment. What if I took a selfish moment to be somewhere else only to find they had taken a dark turn? Could I forgive myself if they stopped breathing while I was off attending to a personal need?What kind of mother am I to leave them like I did when they were suffering? I should have sent someone else to speak on my behalf.After seeing them struggle, I stayed there with them all night, refusing to leave. I also had all my food and other essentials brought here, setting up camp in a comfortable corner of the infirmary. I plan to be here for every moment they have left even if that means I do nothing but watch for the next week.This situation feels so impossible, I can't think of anything better to do.I place a hand on my two smallest babies, Nyx and Nox. They are both shadow dragons and hatched on the same day within minutes of one another, giving them

[Carnelia] The reception chamber for the Northern Gate is cool, even with a dozen dragons standing on the platform. Thankfully, the babies are nestled in carriers that will keep them cozy while we travel. Carefully, I kiss the brow of each of my babies, giving them my love before handing each of them to a unique guard, one who will be serving as their personal attendant for our entire time in Luxandra. At Ona’s insistence, all of them are trained not only to be nursemaids but as skilled warriors. “Are you sure about this,” I ask Ona as her hand rests on the button that will begin the process of reopening this gate. “Are you sure this is the best way?” “Mother would make the same choice,” Ona looks at all of us intently as her hand rests on the button, “Of that I am certain.” The reopening process is complex, requiring several elements to be in place, including the two of us in the same location. Once the engineers ensure us that it is time, Ona places her hand on a small stone plat

[Carnelia] The guards standing on the edge of the room move forward. The Queen raises a jeweled hand to give them pause. “Yes, Brother-in-law, you had something to say.” As if pushing through fog, his next words are slow, labored, as if his jaw were stuck together with clay. “She…mine…stay.” His breathing is labored. He does not move forward. But his eyes. For the first time in all of my visits, his eyes connect with mine. “Stay,” he says again. This time I know for certain. He’s talking to me. I nod. Okay, Primus. I'm here. I'm not leaving you. I try to send what love I can through my ring, hoping that he can still feel it, somewhere. He closes his eyes, his face tight with pain. He may look like the strong drake that I married, but he is not himself. Whatever they have done to him, he is fighting to be free. He is fighting to be mine again. Queen Eleanora looks at him with a gaze that is far too clever. “The prince has made a request. We shall treat his family as our fam

[Carnelia] I am up to my waist in layers of silk and taffeta, exhausted, hungry, and heartsick. “Can you remind me why we need to endure this?” I ask Ona as a maid tears through my curls. Wincing, I try not to flinch as she abuses my scalp. I have never liked being forced into the courtly ideas of royal beauty, and yet here I am being trussed up to be presented at a ball I do not even want to attend. Except, maybe to see him. “Because we must follow her rules of propriety,” Ona grimaces as her corset is laced. Just as the maid is about to cinch it tighter, Ona stops her with an upraised hand. “But Mi’lady, you are expected to have a fashionably tight waist. The dress that the Queen sent over needs you to…” The scalding look Ona gives Eleanora’s human pet pins the poor girl in her place. With wide eyes the girl, barely more than a child, bends her body in half until only the top of her bald, tattooed head is visible, before falling to her knees in shame. “My apologies, Your