The Lost Kingdom
The Lost Kingdom
Rise of the Drakens Book 3
Raven Storm
Copyright 2020 Raven Storm
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Cover art by AJ Dane Gayosa
ISBN- 979-8-9861543-2-9
Created with Vellum
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Afterword
Rise of the Drakens
Acknowledgments
About the Author
The Lost Nation - PREVIEW
Chapter One
Wren
It’s cold here.
I haven’t been cold since I lived in the breeding house. That deep, chilled to the bone feeling used to be my constant companion. Complaining about it wouldn’t have done any good because I knew what Crullfed would have said: we were welcome to warm the beds of any of the men who walked through the door. Unfortunately, I didn’t know then what I know now. Crullfed would have never risked breeding me, since he had known what I was since the beginning––the Lost Siren. I was the last female draken in existence, hidden away for centuries by a blood magick enchantment.
I wasn’t back there, was I? Maybe everything that had happened these past few months: my kidnapping, my mates, becoming queen . . . Had I simply imagined it all? Perhaps, I wasn’t a female draken with white scales and wings that proudly reflected the colors of my mating relationships at all. Crullfed could have beaten me so hard I was simply hallucinating, forgetting I was just another powerless human girl that was trapped in a cycle of abuse. The pain in my body currently supported that argument, but I fought against it. I didn’t want to think about being that small, scared creature ever again, even if I had to stay in my delusion to do it.
I shifted, feeling the filthy stone floor underneath me. That was my first hint I wasn’t at the breeding manor. The floors there were never dirty, courtesy of the enslaved women who were forced to clean at all hours. If everything wasn’t spotless for the clients who sent over their human breeding studs, then we’d be sure to feel Crullfed’s cane against our backs.
I opened my eyes, darkness embracing me in a light caress. A small glimmer of light came from a torch in the hallway, throwing flickering shadows through the slats in the iron door. The bars forced my mind back into the present with a sharp, stabbing clarity. I was in a cell. A prison cell.
The memories of the past few days slammed into my mind and stole my breath as realization sank in. I had done this to myself. I had planned to be captured, but now that I was here, fear nestled in my heart. I was a prisoner in the demon stronghold, with no plan other than to try and locate the witches and help them escape if I could. I shivered, missing the warmth of my mate’s arms and the security of their presences. They felt so far away. I swallowed heavily, willing myself not to panic. I was not a slave again. I was not a slave. This time there was a purpose to my actions, a goal to fulfill. I just had to make sure not to die before getting the witches out. Simple, right?
There was a groan next to me, and I jerked, shrinking into the corner and readying my claws. Heated venom slid down into my palms, warming my hands as my fingers tingled with anticipation. My gaze sharpened on the figure with more clarity, and I exhaled in disbelief when I saw him lying across from me. Dried blood coated his side and coated the ground next to him, his fighting leathers torn and shredded against his skin. With a groan he rolled onto his back, trying to regain consciousness.
“What are you doing here?” I asked in dismay.
Thad grunted, managing to roll onto his stomach. His dark eyes cracked open, one hand going to the large wound across his abdomen. I tracked his movements, suspicious.
“I said I would protect you. I didn’t plan to take it this far, however.”
With a painful lunge, he sat up, gritting his teeth as he held his side firmly with his hands. I vaguely recalled him fighting his way towards me during the battle, but I still didn’t trust him. I remembered how he would watch me at the rebel camp and how he had tried to kiss me that night in the darkness of the tunnel with my mates sleeping only a few feet away.
Thad rolled his eyes, his hooded gaze sizing me up even as he tried to staunch the fresh blood flowing between his fingers. “You could just use your shifting powers to get us out.”
My wings flared in indignation. “I got captured on purpose, you cockmuffin! I’m trying to find the witches!”
Thad’s eyes narrowed, then he turned away, presenting me with his back. How very mature. I huffed. “Try not to bleed all over my side of the cell, would you?”
He coughed wetly and I tried not to wince. “You really don’t like me.”
I sniffed in the darkness, hugging my knees to my chest. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of any more conversation. I didn’t want any part of whatever weirdly strange agreement he had with Benedict. Neither of them thought I could take care of myself.
You’re being as cruel to Thad as Benedict was to you at first.
I chased such ridiculous thoughts away. I hadn’t bedded Thad in a primal rage, eager to prove my own dominance.
You liked it though. In fact, that’s what you like most about Benedict, isn’t it?
A loud thump interrupted my thoughts, and I chanced a glance over at Thad.
“Everything okay?” I lowered my hands and scooted closer. I swore as his body twitched and writhed on the ground, his face screwed up in concentration. I disregarded all my vows to let him rot and crawled forward slightly.
“What’s wrong?”
I cautiously crossed the space between us and laid a hand on his shoulder. He went utterly still. My heart caught in my throat. I bent close to listen to his chest, praying he was still breathing. His hand reached out and grabbed my neck, pulling me down against him. I snarled and twisted, and he let go when I bit down on his wrist. I only just managed to keep myself from pouring venom in with the bite, spitting his blood out onto the floor. I withdrew back to my corner as his tremors became more frenzied and violent. Now I wasn’t afraid only for him but also for myself. I threw my body against the iron bars, squinting out into the darkness for any signs of life.
“Is anyone there?”
I gritted my teeth, debating if I should use my voice magicks to summon someone. I screeched as loud as I could, the sound reverberating throughout the entire dungeon. Footsteps pounded towards the cell, and I shifted back to my human form just as the door was wrenched open and swords were aimed at my face. Thad screamed at them; the kind of scream that made your hair stand on end and your soul temporarily leave your body. I mutely pointed to Thad, and they lowered their weapons in alarm.
“Draken trash,” the demon hissed, his misshapen head giving him the appearance that someone had tried to dent it from the outside in and nearly succeeded.
“I don’t think the Overlord would appreciate the Cantradian heir dying on your watch,” I spat out, acting as unconcerned as I could manage with so many weapons pointed at me.
The demon’s misshapen eyes narrowed to slits, but he gestured to three smaller demon imps who loped forward, picking Thad up under his armpits and dragging him out of the cell. Thad’s blood left an ugly smear along the dirt and stone. I swallowed heavily, hoping I’d made the right decision. I was afraid of him, but that didn’t mean I wanted him to die. My plan was to get captured for information, not to get the heir of Cantrada assassinated. How would we rally the human slaves without him?
The demons dragged him down the corridor, pulling him around the corner and out of my sightline. At the last possible moment, his eyes flicked open. His gaze met mine with fevered need, and then he was gone. His screams echoed around the corridor as they dragged him away. My cell door slammed shut, and I was safe but alone.
I wouldn’t cry.
I backed into the corner again, blinking away tears. I could just shift away at any time, couldn’t I? The thought helped to keep my panic at bay and my breathing steady. It was so cold here. I wished for once I had worn more clothing. I wished for a lot of things, but mostly, just to lay my head against the chests of my mates one last time.
I had no idea how much time had passed, but eventually the iron door opened again. I stumbled to my feet as the door opened. Ugly Face was back, along with his friends.
“Move.”
He reached a fat hand out to my neck, and everything in me wanted to fight him. For a split second I considered it. Wouldn’t it feel good to take all my rage and frustration out on the remaining good side of his face? I dismissed the possibility just as quickly because it wouldn’t get me answers. I snarled but didn’t resist as he clamped a large iron collar around my neck. I bit down on the urge to lash out even as the feeling of being trapped and enclosed sent my inner draken screeching in indignation. My eyes closed as I tried to breathe through the layer of panic that settled over my shoulders.
“Move!”
The collar was connected to a chain which Ugly Face yanked on hard. I fell on my own face and barely had time to scramble to my feet before the line went taut again. He led me through the dungeons and up a winding staircase. My eyes were wide, taking in as many details as I could and committing them to memory, not that there was much to see.
The stone fortress was dark, cold, and wet. The dungeon had one way out; the steps I was now being dragged up. At the top was a narrow, dimly-lit hallway—thank the gods I had better vision as a draken—and more stairs. We went up three more sets before the sun started filtering in through the narrow slats that passed for windows, the wind adding to the chill even if the air wasn’t as damp. The passage opened up into what was once a covered parapet but had been damaged and now opened to the elements. I stopped, trying to wipe off some of the blood dripping down my face from my earlier fall. Hunger made my head fuzzy, but it was the lack of water that was going to be the bigger problem as I tried to keep pace, stumbling after the demon who tugged me along.
The parapet led into a small courtyard, pointing towards two massive, iron-bolted doors. They were guarded by a pair of foreboding shadow demons, and I met their eyes as we passed, knowing I looked half-crazed and filthy. The massive doors opened, and the shadow demons stood aside with matching growls. As I was yanked over the threshold, my eyes landed on a garish, purple carpet that stretched from the doorway across the floor, leading straight to a throne. Purple, like Benedict’s eyes. I squeezed mine shut, but my mate’s gaze was still there in my head. Just like trees reminded me of my mate Kieran and the color of fresh blood reminded me of Ronan, purple reminded me of Benedict. Why did it hurt so much to think about them?
Severn sat before me on a small throne, surveying everything in front of him with a satisfied smirk. His eyes hungrily devoured me, his veins showing through his translucent skin, thick with dark blood. Severn was nothing like the starved, half-dead vampyres we’d run across in the woods. Despite this, his thin frame didn’t fill out the throne appropriately. In a way, he looked like a small child playing dress up in his parent’s clothing. I stuffed down an inappropriate grin and turned it into a scowl instead.
“Ah, the female draken. Bring her forward.”
I didn’t have control of much, but I drew the line at bowing before this monster. I planted my feet, wrapped my hands around the slack in my chain, and yanked as hard as I could. Ugly face fell backwards, hitting the floor with a grunt. I didn’t waste any time as I wrapped the chain around his neck and used my body weight to pull it taut. He made a panicked, choked sound as his arms flew to his neck, but it was too late. I raised my eyes to Severn in challenge.
“Tell me what I’d like to know, or I’ll kill him.”
Pale eyebrows rose as a slow, sardonic look of delight crept across Severn’s face. “I hear you already have quite the body count.”
My grip on the chain loosened, and Ugly Face yanked back, throwing me to the floor beside him. He backhanded me with enough force to break something, but I went with the momentum of the blow as I fell, like Kieran had taught me. He balled my chain up in his hand and raised it over his head.
“Draken bitch!”
He brought it down on my body, the metal biting and cold as it struck me across my face and chest. I raised my arms to protect my face but otherwise made no sound other than gritting my teeth. He’d have to try harder to get me to scream; I’d been conditioned to pain since birth. Hands turned me around, and the chain came down again and again over my back, until my blood stained through the purple rug and black seeped into the edges of my vision. It wouldn’t be long now until I passed out, until—
“Enough.”
The chain stopped. In a way that was worse, because I was forced out of the dark, quiet corner of my mind in which I had sought refuge. The pain multiplied as my eyes snapped back into focus, and I missed Severn rising from his throne. A pair of highly polished boots stopped near my head, and I spit on them.
Severn withdrew a sword from his side, and I steadied myself as I sneered at him. I wouldn’t flinch when he struck me. In one smooth movement, Severn stabbed the sword into the chest of the demon who’d beat me. The demon’s look of shock and befuddlement is what I’ll remember most, his hands helplessly fluttering around the wound as thick, black blood escaped through his fingers. He died slowly, his agony palpable, as Severn twisted the blade again and again, the sound of his blade scraping against bone forever etched in my mind. Finally, Severn kicked him to the ground, leaving the sword in place. The demon grabbed the toe of Severn’s boots, but Severn flinched away, having eyes only for me.