LOGINAll Carnelia Majere wants is to live happily ever after with her handsome Dragon Prince, Primus. To grow old watching their children grow. But the universe has other plans. Torn from the loving embrace of her mate, and leaving her children behind, Carnelia is forced into slavery by her twisted sisters Lyra, Cosima, and Nova, who use her as a weapon to defeat the dragons who have enslaved their people and killed their parents--Primus' kingdom! Hated as a traitor to her people, Carnelia's life becomes irreversibly changed when she is placed on the Southern throne as the Sun Queen, the sworn enemy of her mate's nation. Difficult choices await her as she and her prince as they find themselves in separate parts of the world on opposite sides of a brewing war. But despite the odds, a love like theirs cannot be denied. Even if it means burning down the world to bring them back together again. THIS IS THE THIRD and FINAL BOOK in the DRAGON PRINCE series which also includes "Sacrificed to The Dragon Prince" and "Reclaiming My Beloved Dragon Prince" .
View More[Atremi]During our trip east to Imperial City, the rest of Melark’s story slowly unfolded, and I learned more about who the Technicians really were, their purpose, and why they had disappeared so long ago. I had some inkling, from my time working at the palace, but I had been born several decades after the disappearance of the famed imperial scientists. “In truth,” Melark confessed, “We never truly vanished. Not completely. We just shifted focus.” This old drake, nearly a thousand years old, had been trained to serve the courts from the time he had been a small hatchling; his mentor, a distant aunt, had served the courts directly. But by the time he had been ready to take his turn, they had switched from direct influence to a more observational role. “My aunt Kastora worked directly with the Solarian queen. She was an advisor who helped make decisions for the whole empire. After the first great war, our purpose shifted. When I entered court, it was as a scientist, a researcher.
[Atremi] “Consider our bond broken.” Hours have passed since those words were spoken. Maybe even days. I’ve lost time down here, so far from the sun and sky. And yet, the sound of each syllable of my queen’s curse still rings against the walls of my mind in perfect, crystal clarity. There, in the spaces I can’t escape, the harsh melody of her brittle words finds accompaniment with my heart’s tortured beat. And with each thump, I feel the pain of a thousand swords, all aimed at my chest.I’ve survived a thousand battles and have never felt anything nearly as excruciating as the agony of this newly broken bond.This pain is exactly what I deserve. A reminder of the weight of my sins. Because I, Atremi Glaveheart, am forsworn twice over, not by design, but by the consequences of my arrogance. Thirty years ago, I was sent to accomplish a task. At the time, my queen, as leader of the Stellar Rebellion, had taken over her mate’s mission to free the sun dragons from their torturous im
[Primus] Sitting on a stool, in the center of the room, is a drake made of light, his edges glowing faintly, his head moving slowly from side to side, as if watching an audience. He is wearing a cloak of shadows, as dark as night, ancient runes sewn along the edges of his cloak. He is wearing dark gloves, dark boots, his whole body painted in shades of shadow. It reminds me of Carnelia’s father, the shadow walker. Until he takes off his gloves, revealing hands of a fair, creamy flesh tinged faintly with the palest green. His long curved nails are a darker green, almost black. And then the hood comes down to rest along his broad shoulders. His hair is a shocking shade of green, as bright as spring leaves, short on the sides, and longer as it cascades between his dark horns, the same almost blackish green as his talons. Above his eyes, the color of earth and sand and fallen leaves that glow with flecks of gold, are high, ridged brows, covered in iridescent scales that fade betwe
[Primus] Sitting in a large, plush chair on the other side of the room is a drake of incredible age. He’s in his bipedal form, his iridescent tail wrapping around him to rest in his lap, his fan-like ears fallen into wrinkled lobes, his golden eyes still sharp despite the visible ache in his bones and joints. Unlike the Crystalborn from the meeting hall, in bipedal form the archon has a shock of white hair that falls to his shoulders in tight curls, looser than Carnelia’s tighter coils. Unless there is another dragon as old in this place, this could only be the Archon. And sitting next to him, with head bowed, is a very young drakaina, one forced into a human form, her head bald and tattooed like a human slave. If it weren’t for the telltale collar around her neck, and the surreal golden glow of her eyes, she could have passed as a small human. She looked no more than 6 or 7 human years old. Practically a hatchling. She’s probably closer to 20–still far from the age of maturity a
[Carnelia] What happened next was quick, efficient, and emotionless, so rapid and unexpected that I didn’t see it coming until it was already too late. It was my mistake, assuming that just because Nyxt, who looked and sounded so much like Primus, was being kind to me, meant that he would honor my
[Carnelia] It is impossible to know how long I’ve been waiting here, listening to the ramblings of this “Navigator,” standing on the precipice of a ruined city that she informs me isn’t just on the other side of our known universe, but in a dimension completely different from the one I was born in.
[Primus] They say those who know us the best can cut us the deepest. Once, Atremi Glaveheart was one of my only friends in the palace. My mother was distant, running affairs in the Celestial Kingdom while my father spent her dowry and procured new mistresses. I was close to my clutchmate, Ona, b
[Primus] There’s a heavy weight to my father’s crown. Crafted from the earth stained with the blood of the sun dragon army, he had taken the raw ore and






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