Long Live the Elf Queen: The Elf Queen Book 2

“Meet my new friends, Yoren,” Ronan said, gesturing toward the three elves. “This is High King Thane of Palenor and Layala Lightbringer, his betrothed, and my lovely date, Piper Fireheart.”

Prince Yoren dipped his head slightly. “Greetings. It’s been a long time since we welcomed the high elves. I hope our court has treated you well so far.”

“Quite well,” Thane said. “I’m more than impressed with your palace and I haven’t seen a spread to match this in years. I daresay the high elves must up their creativity.”

Prince Yoren smiled. “You’ll forgive our initial reaction to you and yours, I hope. We don’t allow outsiders inside our city often, especially high elves.” His golden eyes trailed over Layala, pausing on the lily’s mark on her arm then he briefly inspected Piper. “Because of the curse on your land. You understand.”

“I do,” Thane said. “And I am grateful for your hospitality. Had I known it was the queen’s birthday, we wouldn’t have crashed the party.”

Ronan waved a dismissive hand. “She’s had over a thousand now.”

Prince Yoren turned a steely gaze on him. “Mother wishes to speak with you. I hope you have a gift for her.”

He grew a serpentine smile. “They are my gift. The entire court is talking about them. Look at everyone watching us. She enjoys attention. Everyone will think she invited them to her party.”

Thane peeked over his shoulder. Nearly every person here was fixated on them like a child with a new toy. Some stared with lust, others with curiosity, a few like they might shift into beast form and attack. The twins he saw earlier toyed with their hair, licked their lips, coy smiles all directed at him. Many of the males watched Layala and Piper with a hunger that raised the hair on the back of his neck. Unlike the elves, beauty wasn’t inherent among the dragon shifters. They were similar to humans in how much their features differed, and the range from homely to stunning varied but most were neither. Some had large noses or eyes a little too close together, weak chins, or crooked teeth. Both princes were handsome in their own ways. Thane expected their mother would have been chosen for her beauty.

The music stopped and everyone who’d stood in the center of the room moved off to one side or the other, leaving a wide gap. The king and queen strolled inside. The king wore a gold, foot-tall crown on his black hair and a navy-blue robe that pooled on the floor behind him. White fur trim around his neck and down his front. Prince Yoren inherited his bronzed-black skin and raven-colored hair from his father. The queen’s complexion was white as milk, and her thick, silvery-blonde hair reached the floor in waterfall waves. Her ruby-red gown hugged each curve and the fabric dragged at least three feet behind her. The crown on her head was as tall as the king’s, and sparkling rubies covered every inch of it. As Thane guessed, she was easily the most beautiful dragon in the room.

A guard tapped his staff on the shimmering marble floor three times. “Your king and queen.”

Everyone dropped to one knee aside from the princes. Layala looked at Thane with wonder glittering in her eyes. He slowly shook his head and took hold of her hand, squeezing it gently. He did not kneel to monarchs, fallen king or not, and neither would she.

Whispers skittered around the room.

“They don’t kneel?”

“Disrespect.”

“Who are they?”

Thane drew in a deep breath and kept his shoulders back and chin high. The dragon king and queen glided by without sparing a glance. Ronan leaned his shoulder into Thane. “That thing between your legs must be big.”

Thane cracked a smile. “It’s quite small actually. Tiny even.”

Chuckling, Ronan shook his head. “I didn’t think you’d be funny. But let’s hope mother dearest doesn’t bite your head off for that. She has a temper hotter than the sun as do many dragons, although everyone will be on their best behavior with elven guests.”

King and Queen Drakonan took their seats. The music resumed and everyone rose and chatted as before. King Drake’s severe gaze landed on Thane, and he leaned over the thick gold armrest to his wife. She turned those wintery eyes on him and Layala then she looked away as if they weren’t worth the attention.

“Why don’t you two have some wine?” Prince Yoren said and gestured toward the nearby golden fountain trickling the blush liquid. “And help yourself to the food.”

“We will, thank you,” Layala said, and took Thane’s hand to saunter over to a spread full of meat, consisting of different animals. From full boars, some cooked others raw with chunks taken out of it—that made his stomach turn a little—to venison, rabbit on a stick, and fully-roasted pheasants and chickens. The rich hors d’oeuvres and sweet desserts were but an afterthought.

Thane glanced at Piper; she slowly shook her head, and then patted Ronan’s arm and continued her conversation with the prince. Nothing important from her either. It seemed they had their work cut out for them.

“Any ideas?” Layala asked, then tipped a full wine glass back.

Thane watched her down it a moment later and arched an eyebrow. “Thirsty?”

“A little,” she said, sounding exhausted. “Ronan gave me a glass earlier. Have you tried it? It rivals Calladira’s wine. And honestly this whole party is making me nervous.”

“Well, slow down. Please. I have a feeling they want us drinking.”

“Why would they?”

“Just trust me on that.”

She looked at the swirling pink liquid. “This will be my last one.”

“Right now, we need to fit into whatever mold they want us in. Be pleasant, smile a lot. We can’t make them more suspicious than they already are. I already pissed them off by not bowing down.” She started humming to the music and watching the dancers. With a frown he lightly touched her cheek, getting her attention. “They cannot know we want the scepter.”

“I’m aware. Don’t worry.”

He smiled. “You look stunning. I can’t help but stare.”

“Stop,” she said and giggled, bumping her shoulder into him. “You’re trying to make me blush.”

“If I wanted to make you blush,” he said and slid his fingers down the back of her arm, “I’d tell you all about my dream the other night,” he leaned closer, “and the sounds you made. I can’t get them out of my head. It’s like a melody playing over and over.” A light-pink shade colored her cheeks. “It’s too easy.”

She lifted her chin a little. “It’s the wine, making me a little warm.”

He laughed and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her in. “We’ll have our own room tonight, I think.”

She smiled coyly. “I made sure of it.”

A group of seven shifters, three females and four males emerged from the crowd and surrounded them. Thane moved closer to Layala’s side, placing a possessive hand on her lower back. One of the males, young, likely not over twenty couldn’t seem to look away from Layala. Not that he blamed him. One of the ladies wore a five-emerald-piece necklace with so many diamonds it looked like an inverted tiara. She smiled and asked first, “How are you liking it here?” Followed quickly by a barrage of questions from the others.

“How old are the pair of you?”

“Have you ever seen dragons before?”

“What is it like in Palenor fighting against pale ones?”

Layala smiled and nodded, sipping her wine. Thane answered most of them. He knew she didn’t like interacting with strangers like this. The last question was much deeper and harder to answer than the other fluff. He tried to keep it as light as possible given the context.

The music changed to a faster tune, and the same shifter who stared at Layala, held out his white-gloved hand. “Oh, a favorite song of mine. Do you mind if I steal your beautiful betrothed for a dance? I’ll bring her right back, promise.”

Thane didn’t blame him for being infatuated with her. But it grated on his nerves that he’d hardly taken his eyes off her since he’d approached. Thane ground his teeth and tried not to look like a jealous prick, but he was one. “What does the lady say?” If this party didn’t require him to be on his best court behavior, he’d tell the bastard to piss off.

She set her empty wine glass on the nearby table. “Why not,” she lifted her shoulder, and he immediately took her hand.

Thane watched to make sure he danced proper. One hand was high on her waist, the other clasped around her palm. The distance between them was… sufficient.

“Would you mind dancing with us then, Prince Thane?”

He turned to the icy-blonde twins he’d seen earlier. “Uh,” he tugged on his collar. “Both of you?”

“One at a time, of course,” the one on the left answered.

“Me first,” said the other.

“Alright.” Taking her hand, he led her onto the dance floor with the mass of other couples.

Layala looked and rolled her eyes over the shoulder of her dance partner. He tried not to laugh as he placed his hand on the twin’s silky waist and took her other hand. She immediately stepped closer, putting not even a finger’s width between them. Thane cleared his throat and took a half step back and then moved into the dance. “So, what is your name?”

“I’m Devlyn and my sister’s name is Destinee. We’re friends of Prince Ronan’s—second cousins on his mother’s side. We flew in your friends.”

“Ah, I thought you looked like the queen, and thank you for that.”

“So, when’s the wedding?”

“We haven’t set a date yet,” Thane said. Unfortunately. 

She tilted her chin higher. “She’s sweet, and Ronan says she’s a mage, not to mention pretty, you should marry her before she gets away.” Her tongue slid across her bottom lip. “Are you—hesitant to commit? I imagine as a future king you are rather picky on whom you will choose as your queen.”

Thane sighed. He truly didn’t want to have to put the queen’s cousin in her place, but it looked like it was heading that way. “No, I’m not hesitant. We’re at war in my land—it’s complicated.”

“You know, being engaged to be married isn’t married.” She slid her hand from his shoulder to his chest. “There’s still time to… play.”

Thane dropped both hands to his sides and dipped his head. “Thank you for the dance, Devlyn.” He turned away to find Layala. This was a mistake. They should have given being cordial the middle finger and stayed together.

“I hope I didn’t offend you,” Devlyn stepped up beside him. “You’re so—beautiful.” Her eyes dropped to her fidgeting fingers. “There’s just something about you.”

Unsure what to say, he kept searching for Layala among the couples still dancing around them. He spotted the one who’d asked her to dance, and she wasn’t with him anymore. He scanned along the catering tables where they’d been before, and she wasn’t there either. Leif, Fennan, and Piper all danced with partners so she was alone.

He turned to Devlyn with suspicion. Was this a play to get them apart?

“She’s over there,” Devlyn said, nodding toward the thrones. He finally spotted Layala standing off to the side, talking to Prince Yoren. Maker above, he was paranoid.

“Thank you,” Thane said and moved across the room with hurried steps. When he reached her, he leaned down to her ear. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Why?”

“I lost you for a moment.”

“Oh,” she smiled and rubbed his arm. “I was just talking to Prince Yoren about the music. This song is eight hundred years old. Fascinating.” She giggled the way she did when she’d had a little too much wine. That nervous feeling he’d had all day intensified.

Prince Yoren nodded and took a glass of wine off the tray of a servant and handed it to Layala. Thane clenched his hands at his sides, tempted to snatch it away.

“It’s my father’s music, composed for my mother as a wedding gift.” His eyes flicked to the queen still sitting stiffly on her throne, holding the hand of the king, but she smiled for the first time. “They only play it on her birthday now.”

“It’s nice. Will we get an audience with them?” Thane hardly noticed how much time had passed but the sun traded places with the moon. Massive torches on the walls lit up, candles bobbed above their heads, suspended in mid-air, bringing a hint of smoke and warm light. It was a wonder no wax dripped. The golden fountains of wine had thinned significantly, and the food tables dwindled to scraps.

“Appears that way,” Prince Yoren answered.

Thane turned to the queen, curling her fingers in a “come here” motion.

“Don’t fret. I’ll keep an eye on your fiancée,” Prince Yoren said, and turned to Layala. “How do you like the wine?”

Layala smiled. “It’s the best.”

With a deep breath, Thane ground his teeth again. They were trying to get her intoxicated. Wine tended to loosen the lips, but he couldn’t ignore the queen’s beckon, and against the tug in his gut, he left her. With a few long strides, he stood at the base of the queen’s dais waiting to be addressed.

King Drake dipped his head. “Welcome to the court of dragons.”

“Greetings, Princeling.” The queen’s pale-blue eyes slid over him. She stood and glided down the steps. “I am Queen Nyrovia.”

Thane bristled at the term “princeling” as if he was but a child. “Queen,” Thane dipped his chin slightly.

She arched a sleek brow. “You do not bow?”

“No impudence but a High King of the Elves does not bow.”

The cock of her brow and the downturn of her lips said she wasn’t impressed. “King? I wasn’t aware your father was dead.”

“He’s not.”

She looked over her shoulder at King Drake. The corner of his mouth curled up and he said, “So the rumors are true. There is a discrepancy in leadership. Interesting.”

“I’d like to introduce you to my betrothed, Layala Lightbringer.” He glanced toward her, still beside Prince Yoren. She was laughing about something, though over the music and the chatter, he couldn’t hear.

A smile spread across the queen’s face. “Ah, yes. The stolen bride.”

Stolen bride? How did the dragons know so much about them? Did Varlett have Queen Nyrovia’s ear? He did a quick scan of the room to make sure she didn’t hide in a corner somewhere, waiting for her moment to strike. If she was here, she wasn’t in the open. Although, he didn’t think it was possible for her to fly here so quickly.

The music changed to a wistful melody of flutes and strings that brought people to the center for a dance.

Queen Nyrovia held out her hand to Thane. “Ask me to dance, Thane.”

“It’s King Thane,” he corrected with a smile that had charmed many. “And would you like to dance, Queen Nyrovia?”

“How kind of you to ask.”

Many watched and the dancing group cleared a circle as they stepped out onto the floor. Thane placed one hand on her hip and took the other in his grip. “What brings you to my court, King Thane?”

“I thought it was high time we rekindled the old friendship between dragons and elves. From the old stories, we were friendly once.” He didn’t know if that was true or not, everything he’d heard of dragons was they were ruthless and deadly, but it was worth a shot.

She smiled a saccharine smile. “Ah, and what do you have to offer in this new possible friendship?”

“Open communication with the elves, trade.” He needed something to sweeten the deal, some reason that things would have changed over the last thousand years. Something that might tug at her heartstrings, make it more personal. “My betrothed is a mage, one of the last of her kind.”

“And you’re the descendent of a god. So?”

“We might help each other. You don’t need to stay in the mountains forever.”

“We like our mountains.”

“There’s nothing the elves have that you want? We have gold.” He smiled at that. If the overflowing vases of gold coins and precious jewels were any indication, they loved treasure.

“So do we.”

“I’ll be honest.” He pressed his lips together a moment, considering the only thing he had left. “I’m here for selfish reasons. I want the maiden I love to be free from being hunted,” Thane said. “I want to marry her and have babies with her and live in peace.” If she agreed to help, maybe he could simply ask for the scepter. And every word he said was true. As much as he wanted Palenor to be safe, and for the war to end, and no more elves to turn, Layala changed everything. She was the real reason he was here.

She stared at him a moment, eyes glistening in the torchlight. Her grip on his shoulder tightened ever so slightly but then she tugged her gaze away and he felt her decision before she even spoke. “I do feel for you. I know what hunts her, but we will not join you in this plight nor open to trade. The risk is much too great.” She tugged out of his grasp. “You’re welcome to stay, dine, enjoy the luxuries we have to offer for as long as you like. Escape from the horrors of war for a while, make love to your betrothed without worrying someone will come for her, but there is no alliance between dragons and elves, King. We will not risk the curse being brought on our people to fight beside you.” She lifted her chin and swept away with her crimson gown trailing behind her.

He sighed, standing alone in the middle of the dance floor. They’d have to do things the hard way then.

Before Prince Yoren could get Layala to say something they all might regret, and that could truly be anything. She had the mouth of a front-line soldier, not a lady. He trudged across the floor, only to find her gone. Prince Yoren wasn’t there either, Thane realized, and found him on the dance floor with a tall female wearing a diamond tiara.

Where was Layala then? He turned in a slow circle, heart beating a little faster the longer he looked and didn’t find her. In the far corner, hidden partially by shadows, three males blocked someone in, someone in a silverish-blue gown. He swore under his breath and rammed his shoulders into several people on his way across the floor.

When he heard her say, “Don’t touch me.” He moved like shadows invading the land when the sun went down. His fingers dug into the shoulder of the shifter in the middle and jerked him back, sending him to the ground. The one on the right dropped her wrist and tucked his hands behind his back, like he could hide what he did. Thane grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the wall.

“You messed with the wrong maiden.” Thane slammed his head into the wall again but this time it cracked.

“I’m sorry,” he wheezed.

“Hey, back off,” a deep voice said behind him. “You came to our party, elf. And you left your lady alone. That’s fair game around here.”

Heat flared in him like a lightning strike to dry grass. He dropped one offender and turned around with wild eyes. Before he could do anything, Layala threw her full glass of wine in his face and said, “Prick. I’m nobody’s game.”

The dragon shifter’s backhand struck Layala in the face and knocked her into the wall. The thud of Thane’s heart pounded in his ears. With a snarl, he stepped forward and shoved his hand straight into the dragon shifter’s chest, through flesh, through bone, and gripped something soft, warm, and round. His skin shifted to shiny silver scales that might have saved him, and back to soft flesh several times within seconds. “Too late, dragon.” His heart hit the ground with a wet plop, but no one screamed. Many in the room observed and whispered, and to Thane’s surprise, the shifters kept sipping their wine and indulging in their company. His Ravens however, carefully made their way over.

Guards with scales covering their bodies rushed over and formed a half circle around them. Thane stood in front of Layala, body tense, hands curled into fists as the uncomfortable sensation of his magic biting to get free, pulsed with wave after wave. He had no swords, no arrows, but he never needed them. “Come at my mate, my people, or me, and you’ll never see another sunrise.”

The half dozen guards looked amongst each other, unsure, hesitant. They should be.

Prince Ronan pushed between a pair of guards and said, “I got to hand it to you, High King.” He barely even glanced at the dead shifter on the ground. “You know how to liven up a party.”

Thane’s chest rose up and down with heavy breaths, he clenched his jaw and waited for what the dragon prince would do. Ronan nonchalantly tugged on his suit sleeve and then shooed at the guards. “Do something useful and get the body out of here. You act like this has never happened before.” He turned and said loudly to the room, “The elf king just set the precedent. Don’t trifle with him or his crew, and especially not his lady.” He smiled at Thane. “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun in the next few days.”

Relieved he wouldn’t have to fight a room full of dragon shifters, Thane wiped his bloody hand down the front of his suit then turned and scooped Layala into his arms. She held her red, already puffy cheek and leaned her head against his shoulder. In a world less cruel Thane might have been a saint, but this one required a monster.