The beach was deserted. Through the thick brush of newly grown trees he could see the top towers of the keep, walls cleaned of the blackening soot that the battle had left there. They had progressed far since the last time he had checked in. Granted, he had been fighting the dark boil of his blood at the time, but still saw them. He had just not been able to deal with anything beyond his own concerns at the time. Now he saw that they had progressed just fine without him.

A small weight lifted he had not even realized he carried. Leaving his people at such a crucial time had not set well with him. Maybe he should thank his mate for not only pressing the issue but somehow stabilizing him enough that he could fulfill his purpose as leader here.

Your people are usually nearly camped on the beach when someone is expected, certainly you. Why are they all not celebrating your return?

They did not know I was coming, he said but he too wondered. Cree must not have told them he was fetching me.

Not sure you would return with him, she thought back to him and Theron nearly winced. Would he have ignored the summons if mating with Clare had not stabilized him somewhat?  The way his dragon had been fighting him?  It was possible.

Theron was just happy he was in control enough that he did not have to make that choice.

At this time of day everyone was hard at work in their chosen profession, kids running amuck, under watchful eyes, and people dotting the far-off fields.

I’m surprised the dragons are not waiting on the beach, he thought instead of dwelling on what he could not change. Cree must have them up at the keep.

I can hear them all congregating up there, Clare confirmed. A short pause. You're a wind mage. Shouldn't the wind be whispering all the secrets to you?

The dragon that was Theron chuffed in annoyance, but he would not keep secrets from his mate, not when she could enter his mind at will and pluck them from him anyway, and this she needed to know. Lately my dragon has been fighting against the mage in me. Let's just say the battle makes the wind more fickle than usual.

The long silence stretched while they winged their way to the tower of the keep. It was only as they were landing at the topmost balcony that she finally spoke. He expected censure, or criticism; his mate was not one to sugarcoat things—that at least he had learned. What she said was neither of those things but insightful enough that it made him realize again how much he had assumed because of her age, and how badly he had misjudged her.

"I suspect," she said speaking aloud as soon as she shifted to her human form, "your dragon was battling more the dark blood magic he was feeling from the effects of the blood stone. It might take time, but I would think that with it gone for good your equilibrium will return and he’ll settle a bit. Being home in his own territory should help too."

Since Theron could feel his own satisfaction that his mate was here as well as relief to be back in his own territory he could not fault her logic. He just wondered where she received such insight. Then he realized she was a transformative mage. Like him, she had a dual nature; even if she changed into numerous beasts and he only the dragon, she was still affected by the nature of the beasts she became. It gave her an insight into his dragon half that few would possess.

Thinking about how much his mate suited him, he shifted to his human form and magicked to himself clothes befitting his station as lord. He did it absently with his eyes and concentration on his mate, so that he saw both the heat in her gaze when her eyes drank in his form, as well as the twinkle when she took him in fully dressed in what he thought of as his lordship skin.

She stepped close enough that she could rub the costly black fabric stitched in gold thread between a finger and thumb. She smiled up at him and he could see the laughter full in her face now.

"Pretty," she said. And he knew she was biting her lip not to laugh. He understood a moment later, when her hand brushed over the burgundy phoenix majestically in flight that was stitched beautifully across that blackness. It bore a striking resemblance to the form his mate favored in her transformations. A form all his people would be familiar with now. When he walked into the hall wearing what amounted to his mate’s picture blazoned across his chest it was going to hit more than one funny bone.

Theron closed his eyes and shook his head. "The dragons are going to be merciless in their humor," he muttered.

That made her laugh outright. "You can always change," she said, still laughing at him.

He opened his eyes and watched the humor drain from hers as she caught the blaze of heat directed her way. Not censure for her words but a primal satisfaction that came from all sides of his dual nature, dragon and mage. "I chose the phoenix when I became lord because it was a creature that should not exist, like me, and it symbolized rebirth from the ashes. Our people had seen too many bonfires to miss the meaning behind it.

“My people will see the phoenix on my chest and you on my arm, and it will be a sign they can understand—that you have always been fated to be mine. They will take it as a good omen that I have found my mate, and that you are meant to be here, and thereafter every time they catch sight of our flags or my coat of arms they will remember that we once again rose from the ashes. After what they have faced lately, it is a good reminder, I would not take that from them."  He ran his finger down her reddening cheek. "Besides, you like your mark branded across my chest for all the females to see."

Clare wanted to argue but she could not help but picture the pretty mage female that probably even now waited below stairs. Theron plucked the thought from her head and raised a brow at her, looking surprised.

“I have not met this mage you are thinking of. She must have been one of the rescues the huntsman brought back from their travels. There is no need for you to be jealous.”  He caught her hand and laid it back over the phoenix on his chest. “I find myself attracted to only one powerful mage, and she spits fire and defiance at me. How could another possibly compare?”

Clare would like to argue that she was not jealous, but he was in her head. It would do her no good. Besides she liked his words, and that look in his eyes was too much to fight right now. Without thinking about it she softened and melted just a bit into him.

Then he looked her over and ruined the moment. "We need to get your wardrobe started sooner rather than later. For now, can you shift into some form of court dress with those incredible abilities of yours?"

Clare narrowed her eyes at her mate and lied boldly. "No."

When she saw the flash in his own eyes she knew he heard the lie and the irritation behind it. He laughed. "You are the Lady of Seatown, an honor you claimed before you claimed me, I might add. Did you think you would not need to dress the part?"  He raised a cocky eyebrow at her that made her want to bite him. "Surely as ward of Prince Ladon and Eben Kinkaid you had occasion to dress up."

"I was in hiding at Forsaken for the last few years, trying not to get claimed by some randy dragon. We did not exactly throw parties, and I can't fight in a dress."

At the reminder of the mage laws that had since been repudiated, Theron lost all humor. The reminder of both her attack and the reason behind it was not something he would ever find funny. His hand went to her cheek to cup it while he studied her fierce little face. When he finally spoke, it was not what she wanted to hear but it was the truth.

"As my lady you will on occasion be forced to entertain, both our people and rarely guests. And less often you will accompany me to diplomatic functions outside of Seatown, where expectations will be higher. The humans might have been beaten down under the reign of the blood mage, but they are fast finding their ways to claim whatever power they can, as fast as they can. Which means sooner or later Seatown will have to deal with that power officially. You will have to hide your mage abilities."  She grimaced at that and he saw the news was not happy to her ears, his next words even less so. "Formal dress will be required."

When he thought of the females that had attempted to get into his bed in the hopes of wearing fine clothes and attending grand parties they assumed made up his life, it almost made him smile. At least he could be assured his wife did not marry him for his station, or his riches. Considering what she had left behind in Dracon, that thought was laughable.

Forsaken was a mountain fortress of the oldest dragon still living. He knew from sharing her memories that priceless gems were embedded in the walls, and that was the dragon treasure you could see. And prince might be an honorary title now for her sister’s other husband, but Prince Ladon came from the hereditary line of kings. No, Clare had no need to claim him for what she could gain in either title or wealth.

The eyes she fixed on him were narrowed and still irritated. "The people have already seen me as I am and begun to accept me. Sticking a dress on me could ruin all my efforts to show them I am not a useless, pampered lady."  She did not let him speak before she went on with more heat. "And as for the human lords and their parties, if you expect me to go into that viper’s nest strapped down in a dress and unable to defend myself, you really have gone mad."

Since she clearly was gearing up for a battle on the subject, he decided not to give it to her. "All of this we can work out later. For now, we need to get down to the hall and find out what is happening."

Clare looked like she wanted to argue again but she finally huffed out a breath and gave him a tight, “Agreed."  None of her anger had dissipated and Theron could not really blame her. She had lost more than one person to the human world to the North before her family had taken up with the dragons.

"I would ask only that you..." he searched for the word, "…spruce up your current look enough that people can differentiate you from the huntsmen who will no doubt be in attendance in the hall. For the sake of the pride of the people, and yours should your canny ears overhear something that puts your back up unnecessarily."  She narrowed her eyes at him again, and he could hear the arguments in her head that they would take her as she was, none of which she voiced as her keen mind worked through the situation and the most strategic approach to what she hoped to build here. He expected then that he would have to convince her, but a moment later he watched the magic crawl over her in a transformation he could almost see in the magic that swirled around her.

It was subtle changes she made; her weapons still gleamed from their comfortable sheathes, but the tunic and trousers were now a deeper luxurious midnight green that made the red fire of her hair stand out in sharp contrast. Her boots were tall, black shiny leather nearly identical to his own. Her hair, no longer in one simple braid down her back, flowed free and was held off her face with what looked like a gold and copper spun headband speckled here and there with fine gems.

It was simple enough to be tasteful, and the workmanship was that of an artist. It also looked rich and made the statement that whatever her easy demeanor, this was no ordinary maiden. It matched the glimmer of copper and gold threads of her tunic. A small gold phoenix was etched over her heart to match the one on his chest.  Embedded into the fabric of the tunic itself that he only caught glimpses of when the light hit it right were a myriad of mystical beasts that shimmered just under the surface. It was a reminder of who she was, what she was capable of, and that much lay beneath the surface of his mate; at the same time, it was a very subtle warning of the same.

The full effect of her both pleased his beast and took the man’s breath away. Beautiful and dangerous, his mate was quite simply stunning.

Theron gave himself a minute to appreciate her choices and then bowed at the waist in full court presentation as if they were already at a lord’s assembly. "I am once again schooled by my young mate. Not one of our people seeing you will doubt that you are a worthy mate for any lord."

Clare raised her stubborn little chin and shot him a look of pure dragon hauteur, something she had learned from her adoptive family, no doubt; no one did arrogance quite like a dragon. And it put to rest the last of his worries that she would drown in the shark-infested waters that were the lords’ assembly.

"Something you should keep in mind when you are handing out orders, my lord."  She turned her back and walked away from him, a move that had a growl falling from his lips before he could stop it. Neither the mage nor the dragon cared for the sight of the Lady Clare walking away. "I have stood against the blood mage, and even the dragon council. I can stand against a few villagers and mere human lords, no matter their jumped-up self-importance."

Since her words so closely mirrored his own thoughts he did not argue, but he did whip a wind around his mate, turning her and hauling her back to slam into his chest. His arms closed around her while her head slammed back so she could look her surprise directly into his heated green mage eyes.

"Yes, you can," he said before he gave her an arrogant smile. "But you will do it now at my side."  He rubbed his nose across hers and had the satisfaction of watching the surprise soften her face. "Shall we?"

He let her go and presented her with his arm, making it clear that he would escort his mate down on his arm, or neither of them was going anywhere. She chuffed out a breath but shook her head and turned away before he could see her smile.

But he heard it in her voice when she answered just the same. "Might as well see what is happening."  Then she placed her warm, capable hand on his arm and he relaxed, taking it as acceptance of his claim. Together they went down to meet his people and the delegation from Dracon as a couple for the first time.

***

The delegation from Dracon stood out. Some of the mage folk of Seatown, along with a smattering of huntsman who had taken up residence in the surrounding forests, ranged in dress and looks, but all were out-shined by the dragons, his sister chief among them.

Lazuli eyes, skin like pearls and that bronze dragon glow to her hair that he shared with her. She was the spitting image of his fragile mother, only while his mother had truly been the swanlike creature in need of protection for all her great power, Asha only looked that way. Ice dragon and fire mage—it was a combination that was as beautiful as it was deadly. She did not look like the one of the most dangerous predators in this room, surrounded as she was by dragon knights, huntsmen in their leathers bristling with weapons, and mage warriors. Much like his mate, his sister was a force to be reckoned with, and you would not feel the bite of it until it was too late.

Braedon was Lord of the Hunt and leader of the free people now taking up residence in his forests. He at least looked like a soldier: short brown hair, hardened and unusual hazel eyes, his six-foot height of honed muscle in brown leather, and he bristled with weapons. Like his warriors he favored simple dress despite his rank. Supple brown leather predominantly made up his accustomed garb, with a tunic of green and brown that fit snug enough over his whipcord lean body that it did not hinder his quick flights through the trees. And fly was exactly what the lord of the hunt and his warriors seemed to do.

Theron had no idea if the warriors of Braedon's clan were spelled to be silent ghosts among the trees or if they were just that good, but the result was the same. They could move fast and silent through the highest branches of the green lands. They were unparalleled hunters and could survive in places most people feared to traverse. Bringing them to Seatown and allowing them to live on his Island had been a calculated risk on his part and it had paid off in both a solid defense when he had most needed it and in extra provisions.

In a time where too many of his neighbors were facing famine and drought brought on by the dark use of blood magic, his people were prospering. The mage folk that commanded the different elements was one reason for that; Braedon and his huntsmen were another. The Lord of the Hunt was also his sister’s mate, and the most powerful fire mage Theron had ever seen. It was only when he saw them fighting side by side that he had realized Asha was equal to her mate in power.

Beside them was yet another heavy hitter, though this one looked more the part than his sister, or even her mate. A being seemingly composed of dark obsidian, General Solan Fire-Eater, with his black hair that swallowed the light and his quicksilver eyes, stood nearly as big as Lux. A knight of the Light and commander of the dragon’s elite knights, he, more than any of the others, was why Theron's people were keeping such a wide berth between them and the dragons.

The other reason was the warrior Furee, who stood with his beautiful mage mate within the protection of his arms. That man was smaller than Adair, Lux and General Fire-Eater, but the only softness on him was the female who stood so content in his arms. Lady Riva was popular with his people, with her soft topaz eyes, gentle ways and amazing healing gift, and it did not hurt that the woman was all soft, shiny hair and long legs. Furee was like a dark shadow that eclipsed her warm sun. Between his hair like living fire and the realization that when you looked into his eyes you could see the heart of a living flame, it was no wonder that the people of Seatown were slow to warm up to that particular warrior.

Unlike the two others in their group: Lux, the big blue bastard, was nearly as scary looking as his fellow knights with his size and that big axe of his, but he was also boisterous, obnoxiously loud, and quick to laugh at a joke. And Adair... Theron narrowed his eyes at the young warrior with the golden hair and skin of the dragon House of Earth. More than one female, mage, human or otherwise, seemed incapable of looking away from his golden handsomeness. Even the icy hardness of his frosty grey eyes did nothing but add to his allure, and he was staring at Theron's mate like a starving man looked at his next meal.

Fortunately for the young knight, Theron did not have time to more than begin to smolder at that fact before his sister spoke. And he realized, watching the ice dragon magic fill her gaze, that she did not speak to him as a meddling sister but as the Dragon Seer. It made the shock of her words that much more powerful.

"Aarion has been attacked and no one knows if he will live.” She met her brother’s eyes with that power blazing directly at him. "Lord Rendal has gone missing."