Chapter 3: Kenna

Kenna

The day after the attack on Rhys and Enki, I find Merethyl after breakfast.

“Hey, were Avani and the others able to hide all the evidence from yesterday?” I ask her.

Ever since I asked Yhendorn to leave, Merethyl’s attitude toward me has been a little cooler. I understand why. She’s Yhen’s sister. But she should also understand my perspective. While I struggle horribly without Yhen near me, I can’t risk him trying to claim me.

“They’re still out there this morning,” she says.

Usually, Merethyl is one who will ask how you’re doing. After yesterday, she would normally be checking in to see if I’m okay. But not now. As I said, she’s a bit chilly towards me. And while I know I shouldn’t, I need to know he’s okay.

“Have you spoken to Yhen lately?” I ask her.

She stops and looks at me. “Have you?” she snaps.

“You know I haven’t,” I snap back.

“Well, maybe you should. I’m not you’re messenger girl.” She turns to walk away, but I grab her arm.

“Please Merethyl. You’re mated to a dragon. You know how hard this is for me,” I say, my voice catching.

She sighs and turns back to me. “I do know and it’s the only reason I’ll say anything. The nightmares are back. I think they’re getting worse. He looks older, tired, run-down.”

I grit my teeth. Very few people know that Yhen had nightmares about his time in the laboratory. Merethyl met Avani immediately after she got away from the scientists. So she never had them. Before Yhen and I started spending time together, he did. Even after we started spending time together, I’d hear him crying out in the night. It was one of the reasons that we agreed to go to school together. Being near me kept his nightmares at bay. But now, I’ve pushed him away and the nightmares have returned.

“Maybe I’ll go see him today,” I say softly.

Deep down, I know he won’t claim me until my eighteenth birthday. But it’s not a risk I’m willing to take. More than anyone, Yhen has the ability to claim me. I know he’d be an excellent rider. I see how Merethyl and Avani are together. But no dragon wants to be claimed, not even by their mate. So, I pushed him away.

“You really don’t check your messages from him, do you?” she scoffs, shaking her head. She turns to walk away again.

“What does that mean?” I ask her.

She spins around. “It means, the Royal Conclave is meeting today. He’s not going to be at home. He’ll be there. Avani and I would be there too if he wasn’t out cleaning up after yesterday. Stop avoiding him completely, Kenna. You’re meant to be a queen. Start acting like one,” she growls, before spinning on her heels and gliding away in what is probably the elf equivalent to a stomp. However, on an elf, it looks more like the walk of a runway model.

I race back to my room and find the messages from Yhen that I deleted without looking at them. He sent me a reminder. Well, he sent me multiple reminders. Of course, he added that Kenzo will be there.

Dammit! I haven’t seen him in months. It’s been even longer since I’ve seen Laiken and Ember, but their riders, Nylion and Merellien, aren’t royals. They were just smart enough to be in the right place to force Laiken’s and Ember’s submission when the troupe brought them down.

I grab a dress, one that Yhendorn bought me for these types of events. Then I leap out of my window, shifting and flying to where I know the Royal Conclave is being held. It’s some concrete, stuffy, place where old elves congregate to talk about things that don’t need to be talked about. Unfortunately, some of them are so old that they’ve forgotten that the world has changed while they've been sitting on their asses growing moss.

I feel a twinge of regret knowing that Yhen would have had to run to get to the conclave. Jealousy nearly engulfs me thinking that he might have gotten another dragon to take him. But I immediately push that down. That’s not Yhen. He would never do that to me. He’s not petty or cruel. He loves me as much as an elf can, which isn’t as much as a dragon can, but it’s more than a human can.

I push myself hard, knowing that I’m going to be late. We’ll call it fashionably late.

When I get there, I don’t bother trying to land lightly. I want them to know I’m here, but most importantly, I want Yhen to know I’m here.

I shift and pull the dress over my head. It’s a sleeveless sheath dress that falls to my feet. The dress is elegant without being sexy or provocative and I’m confident that Yhen did that on purpose. Many elves have made comments about wanting to claim me in my life. Between the other dragons, my father, and Yhen, I’ve never had to worry about it. Or not until recently. So, this dress is meant to make me look regal, without making me look like someone that an elf wants to claim because he wants the woman as much as he wants the dragon.

I stride into the cold concrete structure. It has natural windows with light coming in through the top of the structure. I hear them before I reach the room and when a couple of elf guards shift to block my entrance, I growl, letting my fire flicker between my lips.

They quickly move out of my way and I stride into the room, watching King Eldarion speaking to the room, but mostly to Yhendorn who is standing tall and proud.

“How can you stand here, King Yhendorn, and scornfully disagree that we be allowed to claim a dragon?” he demands.

“I am not disagreeing with your right to attempt to claim a dragon, King Eldarion. What I disagree with is your methods. Anyone who cannot claim a dragon on their own doesn’t deserve to call themselves a rider,” he says, staring at King Faeler and Prince Ehlark, both of whom used their elvish troupes to claim or try to claim their dragon.

King Eldarion’s eyes track to me. I nod at the other dragons in the room. Without Avani, there are only three others here; Kenzo, Elio, and Anala. Elio and Anala were claimed properly by their mates. They still live at the Academy. I’ve obviously not been paying close enough attention to what’s going on. I should have realized that they were leaving for the conclave meeting today.

“Perhaps, King Yhendorn, if you were a bit more like those of us who you seem to disparage, you’d have claimed a dragon and would be able to keep her in line,” he says. His lip curls like he despises me, but I don’t miss the way his eyes travel over my body.

It makes me sick and makes me worry for poor Ember. She was claimed by a male elf. Does he take advantage of her? She would have no choice but to give herself to him if he demanded it.

“Be careful, King Eldarion, fire dragons aren’t known for having an even temper. I may be late, but I’m still here. And if I’m not mistaken, you still don’t have a dragon, so I’m guessing you AND your troupe aren’t strong enough to take one of us down,” I say as I step up beside Yhendorn, not caring if I incite the asshole.

“Kenna,” Yhendorn says softly. He may not have claimed me, but it’s well known among ALL elves that Yhen and I are mates.

“This is exactly why the mate bond shouldn’t matter. King Yhendorn has no control over this dragon who is supposedly his mate!” Prince Aratan snaps.

“You don’t control a dragon, Prince Aratan! THEY are the ones with the power. You should respect that, not try to control it!” Princess Keya says. I know Elio hated being claimed but based on the increased size of his mate’s stomach, I’m guessing he’s a happy dragon now and his mate is carrying his young.

“And yet, when they aren’t controlled, they have no respect for the rules and laws of our elvish ways!” King Ilvisar says.

“No respect for your ways?” I ask softly.

“Kenna ...” Yhendorn says again, his voice remaining calm, even though there's a warning in it. He knows I’m furious and this is his way of trying to keep me calm. But King Ilvisar's son tried to force my brother into a claim yesterday. I will not be quiet.

“And what of our ways, King Ilvisar? What of the ways of the dragon? What of the ways of the centuries old method of claiming a dragon? You have no respect for our laws and rules. Why should we care about yours?”

“Because we were here before you!” he yells, slamming his fist on the concrete table in front of him and making the earth around us shake.

“Actually, that’s not true,” Elio says. “Phoenix was here before all of us, and she remembers that dragons came first. Then the elves.”

“And even if you were here before us, you won’t be here after us. Keep coming for us, King Ilvisar. Tell me, where is your son?”

I watch his eyes flash, then he quickly schools his features. “Back at my castle.”

“Is that so?” I ask, my voice syrupy sweet.

“Of course it is. I know where my son is,” he snaps, and I grin widely.

“No, you don’t. But I do. Your son and half your elvish troupe will never return home. They went after my brother and Avani’s son. They made a huge mistake, and they paid for it with their lives,” I say and now it’s my turn to grin. It’s not a sweet grin. It’s not a nice grin. It’s a malevolent grin, full of my hatred for these elves who have no respect for what we are. WE are the dragons. THEY are nothing.

“This cannot be tolerated! You, fire dragon, are an abomination!” Prince Aratan says and the earth around us begins to shake. “I think it’s time for YOU to be claimed, fire dragon! You need to be taught some manners!”

“Kenna, NO!” Yhendorn says, reaching out to me. I know he would have protected me, but I don't need his protection. I am the daughter of the mighty fire dragon and the last Lycan.

I see the three other dragons in the room shove their riders behind their backs, just as I unleash my fire on the despicable prince. The elves without dragons all dive out of the path of my fire. I’m sure they’ll have scorch marks, burns that will no doubt leave scars. Good, let them remember what it means to take on a fire dragon.

“Kenna,” Yhendorn says quietly, gently wrapping at arm around my waist. “Stop.”

As always, his voice and his touch help to calm the fire inside me. I stop, but I’m still blazing hot with anger.

“Anyone else think they can claim a fire dragon?” I ask, glaring at the room full of pompous elves.

“Kenna,” Yhen says again.

“No, Yhen!” I say, spinning around and accidentally blowing fire across his chest. He doesn’t even flinch. His gaze holds mine as he tries to calm me.

Seeing his charred clothing and flesh immediately makes my anger subside.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I say, laying my hand against his chest and pushing my healing into him.

“I know you didn’t,” he says lovingly. I look into his eyes, really look at him and I realize that Merethyl is right. He doesn’t just look tired, he looks exhausted, like the weight of the world is on his shoulders and it’s becoming too much for him to bear. I don’t like seeing my mate like this. Yhen has always been my pillar, my rock.

So, I push extra healing into him, I keep going even after the burn is healed.

“Stop, Kenna,” he says, watching me. He places his hand over mine. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” I say softly.

He shrugs.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen is why the mate bond is so important. Kenna may not want to be claimed, none of us do, but the difference between how she responded to Prince Aratan and King Yhendorn speaks volumes to the power of the mate bond,” Anala says.