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Bound To The Elf Prince: Chapter 43

CAELEN

We gather with Gerold, Halla, Errik, and Healer Althea in the gardens, awaiting the dragon’s arrival. A crisp, saline breeze drifts up from the ocean below, mixing with the lovely fragrance of all the blooming flowers around us. We sit on one of the many stone benches that surround a fire pit as the dull roar of the waves fills the air.

Halla, Gerold and Lyana share stories of the time they spent together here as children. It seems they were very close when they were young, and it warms my heart to see how wonderful they are to my mate, despite not having seen her in many years.

I study Healer Althea. She sits tall and proud, her shoulders back and her silver hair woven tightly to her head in a series of intricate braids as she recounts the hair-raising story of how she once caught them all jumping into the ocean from Halla’s balcony when they were children.

Errik informs me that Althea is half Mer, like he and Halla’s daughter will be. This is why the dragon trusts her to assess his mate—because she is not completely human.

My gaze drops to Halla’s slightly swollen abdomen and irrational envy fills me as Errik holds her close, resting his palm over her belly as he presses a tender kiss to her temple.

I want a future with Lyana, filled with children and laughter. My thoughts return to the images from the mirror. I have to find a way to save her. Even if the cost is my life.

A bellowing roar splits the air, freezing my blood. I whip my head toward the sound and stand as I see the silver dragon flying toward us. He is just as I’ve seen in the mirror.

Despite knowing he is not here to attack, panic snakes down my spine. I make sure Lyana is behind me as he circles overhead.

My eyes widen. I’ve never seen a dragon up close. He is much larger than I’d imagined. His silver scales shimmer with an iridescent glow beneath the sun’s rays; his massive wings stirring up dirt and debris as he hovers overhead. The wind whips wildly around us and I gather Lyana close to shield her.

As soon as he touches down, he shifts instantly into his two-legged form, catching his mate around the waist and carefully lowering her feet to the ground.

Silver scales cover his entire body. He has two small, black horns just above his temples, at the edge of his short-cropped, black hair. His fingers and toes are tipped with lethal, black claws and his emerald green, reptilian eyes study us warily as he tugs his mate close to his side.

She appears so fragile next to him. The top of her head barely reaches his chin. Her blonde hair cascades down in a long braid that hangs over one shoulder and her deep blue eyes practically sparkle as they meet Halla’s.

My gaze drops to her abdomen, heavy with their child. The dragon steps protectively in front of his mate and levels an icy glare at me, baring his sharp fangs. “What business do you have here, High Elf?”

Instinctively, I pull Lyana behind me again and bare my fangs in return.

Dragons have long been enemies of Elves.

Errik steps between us, holding up his hands. “Stop,” he says. “Veron, this is—”

“A High Elf,” Veron cuts him off. Narrowing his eyes, he flicks his tail behind him in agitation as he issues a threatening growl. “Why is he here?”

His mate steps in front of him and smacks at his chest. “Veron, stop it,” she states firmly. “You do not have to growl at every new person we meet. This is why we don’t have many friends.”

I suck in a quick breath and brace myself, worried he will unleash his wrath upon this small, delicate human.

Instead, his expression softens as he turns his attention to her. “I am only trying to keep you and our fledgling safe, my beautiful mate.”

My beautiful mate? I blink several times as I study them, shocked.

She takes his hand. “I know, my love. But not everyone means us harm.”

She turns to me and Lyana. “I am Alara, and this is Veron.” She glances at him. “He really is a wonderful man. He just needs some time to warm up to you. That’s all.”

He thrusts out his chest. “I am not a man. I am a dragon.”

She sighs and purses her lips. “Everyone knows this, my love. I was just making conversation.”

He circles her waist with his arm, curling a wing protectively around her side as he studies me. “Who are you?”

I take Lyana’s hand. “I am Prince Caelen of Rivenyl. This is my mate, Princess Lyana of Eryadon.”

Alara gasps, clamping her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. “Queen Rina said you killed the king and stole the princess.”

Veron snarls, baring his deadly fangs.

Lyana raises her hands in a placating gesture. “That is not what happened. My stepmother lied. She and Prince Fredrik are responsible for my father’s death. Caelen saved me. He has been protecting me ever since.”

“Queen Rina is a goblin,” I add, remembering that Errik confided in me how much Veron hates their kind.

“Vile creatures,” Veron grumbles. “Goblins and Wolf shifters.”

Lyana steps forward. “I am here before you today to seek your aid, Veron.” She straightens her shoulders as he studies her warily, tipping up her chin. “You are a citizen of Eryadon, and I ask that you help your rightful queen retake her throne.”

His brows draw together, obviously shocked by her words.

Here is the moment I’d feared. The one where he realizes it would make more sense for him to take the throne or simply burn and lay waste to the kingdom, gathering its riches to add to his treasure hoard. There is no reason for him to help.

His gaze locks onto hers. “Not long ago your father tried to have me killed.”

“But he did not,” she counters. “Not after he found out about your human mate.”

His emerald eyes shift to me. “And what about the High Elves? You have married their prince. Do you intend to make him your king?”

Dragons and Elves have been enemies for hundreds of years, and I doubt he will help no matter her answer.

“Whether my husband is crowned king or consort is my decision.” She stands regally before him, pulling the mantle of rule over her like a heavy cloak. The same way she appeared before me the first time we met. “Our marriage was formed to ensure peace between our two warring kingdoms. To stand united against those who would see us fall, like the Orcs. If the High Elves can make peace with humans, I do not see why such an agreement cannot be brokered between Dragons and Elves.”

He opens his mouth as if to protest, but she continues.

“You may be a powerful and deadly dragon, but what will you do if Fredrik and Rina send their armies to your castle?”

He bristles. “I burned every knight that your father sent to end me. None of them could stand against a dragon.”

“This is true. But you were alone then. Now you are mated and expecting a child. When one loves, it is an unimaginable joy… but, it does not come without its own perils. Our hearts no longer belong to us.” She takes my hand, squeezing it gently as she repeats my words from this morning. “They belong to our beloved, and this makes us vulnerable to enemies who would use that love against us.”

Veron curls his tail protectively around Alara’s ankle as he pulls her even closer. “You speak truth.” He tips his head to the side, studying her a moment before he adds. “I will help you retake your kingdom, Queen Lyana.” He turns to me, his nostrils flaring. “But first, I must have the word of your mate, that he and his people will not be a threat to me or my family.”

I meet his eyes evenly. “You have my most solemn vow.”


We bid farewell to Halla, Errik, and Gerold. Halla hugs Lyana one more time, tears in her eyes. “Please, be careful, Lyana. And when this is all over, come visit us again. I have missed spending time with you, my dear cousin.”

“I will,” my mate replies.

Gerold turns to us both. “I will send as many men as I can. Send word once you are ready and we will be there.”

Lyana hugs him tight. “Thank you, Gerold.”

“You are family, Lyana. We will always be there for you.” He looks to me and arches a brow. “And now that you are family as well, I’ll expect better trade negotiations with your people.”

“Done,” I tell him.

I glance over his shoulder, observing as the dragon says goodbye to his mate.

There is always an out to any bargain. The witch’s words repeat in my mind, and for the first time since I gazed in that blasted mirror, hope sparks in my chest.


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