He flew towards the fae demesne, a warning brush of defensive magic touching his wings. He wasn't entirely stupid, though. There were city codes regulating the use of magic to ward neighborhoods, and the fae were currently tested as in compliance. That meant little, of course, because they had their ways of hiding and lying like everything else, but he would hope their shields contained no nasty surprises that could get him immediately incinerated. He drew his own magic around him like a second skin, snapped his wings closed, and dove.

If Dawnthorne had taken Serephone—and there was no doubt in Amnan's mind the fae had—then there would be orders at the entry way to bar Amnan from entering, as a matter of course. So, the only way in was through stealth or force. He had no time for stealth.

Force would do. And it was more satisfying.

He opened his maw, chest expanding, and roared. The flames streamed towards the magic. This high up there would be weak spots because no matter how powerful they were, fae were land-leggers like every other ground born creature on this planet. They didn’t have the wings to ensure their shields extended, full strength, this high in the air.

The rounded shield was revealed under the combined physical and magical heat of his flame. Alarms blared immediately, and streaks of magic flew at him, a barrage of tiny glowing missiles that must have been an automatic defense system. He grinned, ready for the fun to begin.

The missiles were fast; they clipped him several times. Flying, concentrating on burning a hole through the barrier, and maintaining his shields all at once wasn't easy, or simple. It required a degree of strength and concentration that he hadn’t been required to wield in centuries. Not since the dragon Dwyrkin had finally stopped warring and decided to make the best of their entrapment on this cattle ranch of a planet. A cattle ranch where they couldn’t even eat the tastiest morsels available, because they complained.

The Fae shield gave way and Amnan wheeled, diving through before the fighters on the ground could patch it up again. He was lucky; they hadn’t built it to withstand dragon attack, which meant everyone in this city was getting fat and lazy from the relative peace. He bet they would never again let it weaken enough to grant a dragon access.

His father would have some work to do cleaning up relations with the local clan. But that concern was for later. No dragon would fault him going after a woman, who may be his mate, and was, technically, his family anyway.

He went low, flying through the tree lined blocks until moments later he was in front of Dawnthorne’s gate. Amnan landed, considered the guards, who stared at him, magic crawling up their arms, and leaped over, half flapping his wings to land with a powerful thud on the grassy lawn. He whirled around, taking care with his tail because he did not want to kill anyone—not yet. He’d try diplomacy first.

The guards withdrew blades, running towards him, hair streaming. Maybe diplomacy would have to wait. He inhaled, and shot fire over their heads, a warning roar. For some reason they did not stop running, but he realized he was fine with that.

* * *

"We'll have none of that, Serephone," Dawnthorne said.

An invisible hand slapped her full in the face, the shock of the blow halting her magic even as a spell once again wrapped around her limbs, imprisoning her.

"It's an impressive skill, one I intend you develop to its fullest, but we have strict laws against patricide—no matter how well deserved."

Her father said nothing, simply watched, arms at his sides. There was nothing in his face, no love, no regret. She remembered his charm, the warmth of him when he played with her and her sisters. He'd always been cheerful, though closer to the end, the relationship between her parents had cooled. The shouted arguments over things she hadn't quite understood then, but did now.

"I hope my mother kills you," she said.

Etienne shrugged. "I'm sure she'd try. I wasn’t well suited as a husband."

She refused to say anything else. She'd be damned if she'd play the 'why did you leave us' game. She turned her head away, the only part of her body she could move, and looked at Dawnthorne.

"Release me," she said, voice cold. "You have no right-"

"He has every right," Etienne said. "He is head of our line. And you, stupid child, came to the one place you never should have."

"He was not given leave to wed and have children," Dawnthorne said.

He glanced at Etienne, expression mild, but a chill ran up Serephone's spine. There was…something…in that glance that told her Etienne would be punished for that bit of deception.

"I didn’t think there was enough blood in them to matter," Etienne said. "Or I certainly would have brought them to your attention, Rabd. Their mother has a drop, no more."

"I’ve used your youth as an excuse before for your thinking, but I’ll no longer do so,” Dawnthorne said. "You may go."

Etienne left without even another glance at Serephone. There was nothing but ashes inside her. The ashes of anger, of love, of pain.

"I don’t believe that man is my father."

There was no mercy in Dawnthorne’s eyes. "He is. There is no doubt. And if you prove to be a credit to our Line, perhaps I will mitigate his punishment. You have siblings?"

She froze, mind scrambling for a way to deter this line of questioning. And then a dragon roared.

* * *

Guards appeared on the lawn, swords drawn. Trust fae to bring pointy sticks to a firefight. And since they were swinging at him, he unleashed his tail. The whistling shriek warned an enemy it was about to die right before it crashed into a chest or face. Unfortunately, Amnan still wasn’t quite ready to kill. Until he had confirmation Serephone was inside, and harmed, he could not start a war just because his instincts urged him towards mayhem. And he couldn’t blame the fae for attacking, when he'd crashed through their ward and landed uninvited on their lawn, spewing fire.

He changed his mind when they ringed him in a circle; hands raised, while several others harried his flanks as a distraction. A bubble formed between their hand, a kaleidoscope of translucent colors that begun to contract towards him. At those moves, he began to really fight. Damned if he'd be imprisoned.

But damn his own caution. Maybe he should be more like Hrutha and run head long into situations, consequences be damned. Or like Nuaddan, who killed first and questioned later. Or like his father, who always managed to charm his way out of a difficulty.

By the time he regretted the decision not to come in killing, they'd encapsulated him in a damn rainbow bubble. He twisted, but it moved with his limbs, expanding and contracting as he did. He didn't spit fire—with his luck it would just fill the bubble and fry him instead. The fae backed away, no smugness on grim, elegant faces, and he knew he was in trouble.

Shit. He'd never hear the end of it from Maddugh. And the worst thing was, he still didn’t know what had happened with Serephone. Amnan shifted, uncaring of his own nudity. And roared.

* * *

Serephone heard the enraged howl from outside the house, the deep chested bellow of an enraged male. "That’s Amnan." Her head whipped towards Dawnthorne. "Did you kidnap him, too?"

Dawnthorne frowned. "No. That would not have been necessary. Let me–ah."

The study door opened and the fae guard with pale skin and curly, dark hair walked in, stopping with a short bow. They spoke briefly, the syllables both liquid and interspersed with harsh, staccato breaks. The guard left and Dawnthorne turned to her.

"It appears your Amnan takes some offense to your having been brought here. We'll speak soon. In the meantime, please refresh yourself. Rooms have been prepared."

He walked towards the door and opened it. Another fae appeared a moment later, a female with a long tail of dark-blonde hair and calm, slanted, gray eyes. Serephone blinked, closed her eyes, and opened them again.

But the same face greeted her. She truly, fully, hated her father.

"Serephone, may I present your half-sister, Anissa? She will escort you to your room." He glanced at Anissa. "Ensure she has everything she needs," he said as the freezing spell faded from Serephone's limbs, "and we will-"

Her magic exploded, every drop of strength she could tear from her insides flinging toward the fae Lord in a massive, silent blow. Nothing elegant, nothing trained. Just a pure, simple bomb of power meant to smash his body into a million tiny pieces.

How dare he imprison her?

* * *

Shock rippled through his bond with Serephone, Amnan’s knees nearly giving way from the strain. The jolt of her magic as she pulled hard enough that the bonding spell warned him she'd done something incredibly powerful, and incredibly stupid. Stupid because anything so abrupt, and so powerful, meant a backlash. If she was still standing, he would eat his own tail. She must be in danger. Serephone was one of the most level-headed people he knew in relation to her age and experience. Weeks spent watching her during a tense situation, and now days in her company taught him she did nothing based solely off an emotional reaction.

And then she was gone. Not dead, but unconscious, or so weak he could no longer sense her.

"Take me to Dawnthorne," he demanded, raising his hands in the universal signal of surrender.

He needed to get inside the house, and he needed to conserve his strength, because now she would need it more than ever. It was inevitable that the fae Lord now knew exactly how unique his so-called cousin was. And he would want to keep her. Which meant Amnan would have to fight.

The guards surrounded him, a male with night-sky skin and chilly eyes. “Kneel,” he demanded.

Amnan choked down his growl, thinking of Serephone, and went down on one knee, placing his hands behind his back. “Now take me to Dawnthorne.”