All 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[Carnelia]
I had always wanted to see the world. I never thought it would be chained to the deck of a ship, as a human slave.
My sisters, in their infinite mercy, thought it best for me to travel this way--collared and cuffed, iron around my ankles and wrists forcing my head and back to be bowed in submission as is the way with royal slaves. Covering me in rags and a cape of course cloth, nobody notices the technology around my neck, forcing me to maintain this unnatural state.
Stuck in my human form, nobody recognizes me as the celestial Queen Carnelia Majere. I am simply "Stella."
It has been three weeks of back-breaking misery since we left Elfholm. Since then I haven't had a single moment of peace. My sisters meant to break me, to force me into grateful service, and when pain didn't work, they tried humiliation. Like a common human captured to become a pet of a royal dragon, I am transported in shackles, my neck forced into an unnatural angle as too-short chains bind my neck and arms to my feet, making it impossible for me to bend up higher than waist height. So I stand here, day and night, at the mercy of every free man and drake who passes me, laughing as I'm forced to humiliate myself before them, devoid of privacy, unable to take care of my most basic needs in peace.
Sisters. These drakaina may be blood, but they are not my family. Family doesn't chain you. Family doesn't make you beg for mercy or laugh when you weep for your lost children and husband.
"Dearest Sister, look, our ship is about to dock," Cosima, the one with the short hair and the eyes that only see inside you, calls to me but I refuse to acknowledge her. She tries to show me mercy, but considering she also allows our sister to chain and humiliate me, her occasional moments of mercy does not go a long way to winning me over.
I don't look up, refusing to play along with their little game. They like to pretend they are not monsters. I will not let them fool themselves into believing they are kind.
Vega, the most innocent-seeming of the trio, jumps up and down with a child-like innocence. She is the same age as I am and went through similar horrors as she wandered the streets not knowing she was a dragon, but unlike me, she didn't grow brittle and old in spirit, she grew soft and childlike, so lost in herself that she often seems detached from reality.
"Ohh, the birds are so pretty! Is this really home? Is this where we come from."
"It was once," a voice like sharp steel scraping against stone screeches near my ear. Lyra, the leader of the trio, and my biggest tormenter, pulls on my coarse hair, pulling my chin upwards so that I have no choice but to stare ahead to where her taloned finger points.
"Look My Queen," she hisses mockingly. "Gaze upon your homeland. Watch as our people slave away for their colonizers. Your mate," she spits the word from her mouth as if it were poison, "His family did this. He allows it to continue. These are your people and your union with him is a betrayal to your kin."
On the shore, others with skin as dark as mine, some even darker, move along slowly, loading or unloading cargo from ships not much different than our own. Many of them are cuffed and collared as I am, forced to do the labor in human form. Others have their wings clipped and folded behind them, their larger bodies used to do bulkier work.
"And these were the lucky ones," she growls close to my ear. "These are the ones that were not pure enough to be placed in one of those hellish facilities to have their souls fuel the hearths of the Terrans. How many souls warmed your fire Queen Carnelia?" She uses my chosen name only during the times when she wants to be especially cruel when she wants to call me a traitor and force me to see the evils in the world.
Like right now.
Looking at the state of the Sun Dragons on shore, I feel the heat of anger rolling through my body. The cuff and collars grow hot around my neck as I dig my energy deep into the shadows, letting them lend me power.
Rather than stop me, Lyra smiles.
"That's right, sister. Let it go. Let it all go."
My rage burns brighter. The other dragons on our boat start shouting, demanding that my captors do something about me.
But it is too late. Too late for them, too late for all of us.
Reaching deep, I pull on the shadows, letting them weave their way into my soul, I craft a nightmare of tears and anguish. As it reaches an inner boiling point, I open my mouth as the cuffs and collar fall away, made useless by my surging power.
"Yes, Stella, let it go, let it free!" Lyra pulls her whip from her hip and with a loud crack, releases it into my back. Roaring in pain, my mouth opens wider and the nightmare spills forth, skipping across the water, aimed at the boats along the shoreline.
"No!" I gasp as I watch the shadow creature born from my anger and fear rage from one ship to the next, consuming the souls of all on board, human and dragon alike, without discrimination. With each life taken, I feel a surge of energy strengthen me, growing my power, rocking my body with a type of pleasure different from anything I've ever felt.
"No," weeping, I beg for them to make it stop, for it all to end, but Lyra laughs at my sorrow.
"You didn't feel guilty while you rutted with that foul Terran, but you feel shame at bringing justice to our oppressors?" she scoffs.
"We will heal you in holy fire," Cosima preaches, her hands touching the sides of my face, her blind eyes staring into my soul. "Open to me, Stella. Let me in."
I feel the moment her soul touches mine. She takes a small sip. And then another, cooling my wrath and bringing my nightmare under control.
"The void is grateful for your service," Cosima bows. "Great Messiah, welcome home."
[Carnelia] Lifting his finger to his lips, my father signals for me to wait. He must sense that others are listening, waiting to hear what he has to say. But why? Does the Grand Magus suspect the truth and that her earlier behavior was just an act?The room is silent, amplifying the noises around us. There is a low hum radiating from the walls, the sound of several layers of dragons, stacked on top of each other, deep within the mountains. Sun dragons, the magi and their alcolytes, each powerful enough to warp reality and call the power of the stars. I never stopped to wonder why they live so deep within this mountain until this moment, seeing how close the Grand Magus is to the Moon Queen. I had been told that the moon drakes stay to themselves, that they are too different from other dragons to want any kind of sustained interaction. And yet, a son of a moon king married a daughter of the sun–my own mother and father. How did he end up at their court to meet her and for the two of
[Carnelia] My hand dangles, suspended in midair, my fingers pointing absently towards where my father and child are hiding, as if I could hold down the blanket of illusion blocking them from view. It is impossible to hold the intangible with your fingertips, but if this moon queen can rip reality back into view, then I can try to hold onto my father's web of illusion a bit longer. I hope, although I'm not exactly sure how. I know the power to weave shadows is one I can and will learn, but I have yet to master even the basics of shadow bending. This feels like a test, one where I had no chance to study and the stakes are impossibly high. I need to protect my child, and the only way that can happen is if she stays hidden. While everyone knows I am a universal dragon, so few have seen what that means other than those who were there for my resurrection, watching me emerge from the ashes on phoenix wings. Rakasha had been there, but she's only ever seen that face and the one I wear now
[Carnelia] “A moment, please,” I call out. “I’m awake but not dressed. I am feeling…shy about my body.” My words aren’t exactly a lie, but they are far from the tru I am dressed, but I can’t have her looking at my body as it is. I have been nesting in the time she’s been away and my body has returned to its pre-maternal state, now that I’m not carrying any precious cargo within me. The Grand Magus pauses. “Motherhood is a blessed state; there is nothing to be embarrassed about, Aka’naha…” As she speaks, my father wraps me in shadows, and my figure morphs, modifying my shape in a way I haven’t quite mastered, even though it has been demonstrated several times. It was what my father was trying to teach me before they arrived. To anyone who encounters me now, I will look as I was before, every detail meticulously recreated, from the swell of my belly to the dark circles ringing my eyes. My little one, sensing danger, blinks out of existence for a moment only to reappear in my father’
[Carnelia]When I first learned I was a dragon, I had no idea what that really meant. Dragons are creatures of energy and power, destined to rule our world by sheer might and fear. They were the terror on the mountain, the monster that could steal away your daughters and sons, forcing them into a life of servitude and pain. But then I was that monster, a creature born of fire and flame, and yet I was still myself, still that scared little girl who grew up among humans, abused and tortured for being different. I didn’t fit in anywhere. Even as a dragon, I’m unusual. As a universal dragon, I’m the stuff of legend, even among my own people. Universal dragons, I am learning, are exceptionally rare because they require the dragon to carry blood from all the original bloodlines, giving them an unbreakable connection to the first dragon of our world, Oaestr, mother of us all. And now, I’m learning, I’m even more unique. A creature of myth. A shadow walker, a void crosser, the creator of wor
[Ursa] [TWO AND A HALF MONTHS AGO] One moment we are awake, struggling for our lives at Ridgewood Castle, and the next moment we are being pulled from containment pods, our bodies weak and shaking. I cannot move my arms or legs, but I can feel my shins hitting the floor hard enough to rattle my teeth as they throw me down at Eleanora's feet. The false queen sits above us like an empress in a sad display of power and intimidation. If I were a weaker dragon, I might be scared, but I know that without her throne, she'd be nothing. “Two of them,” she spits as she looks down, and then up to her waiting guards. “I only asked for one?” “My Queen,” a tall drake kneels before her, his white hair shielding his eyes as he bows deeply. “That is Princess Ursa of the Celestial Kingdom. I thought...” The slap is so sudden and so loud that my ears ring with the sound. “Who told you to think, Athony?!” The Queen snaps.“You had orders. I only wanted The Technician. I don’t need another celestial
[Ursa]It was torture, watching the queen as she bathed in the pain of my family, taking unique glee in making my brother’s mate suffer through the loss of a child. She doesn’t notice me watching her because to Eleanora I don’t exist anymore. For the queen, I must remain dead. And so I hide in the darkest shadows, my head bent, acting the part of a human slave, waiting for my chance to comfort one of the only friends I have in the world. “Leave her to me,” I say to the other human slaves. They’re all afraid of Kora, and for good reason. She’s absolutely terrifying, even when she isn’t as angry and in pain as she is right now. “Go,” I urge, pushing them away before any of them see something they shouldn’t. They take Primus’ away, dragging him by his feet, his body still frozen. Wincing, I watch as his head slides along the chipped marble floor. I can’t let myself react. I might give myself away and that would waste all the effort it took to get my uncle here where the revolution needs
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