City in Ruins

City in Ruins

By R.K. Ryals

Copyright © Regina K. Ryals 2015

Smashwords Edition

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales organizations, or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Acknowledgements

There are a lot of people involved in this
project that I want to thank. To my husband, who is diligently
behind me in everything I do. To my children, because you are my
life. To my sisters, who help inspire me every day. To Audrey
Welch, because you help keep me smiling. I love you. To Christina
Silcox, I seriously could not have done this without you. For
staying up with me on those final nights even when I know you were
tired means more than you will ever know. I adore you. To Melissa
Ringsted because you aren’t just an editor, you hold a special
place in my heart always. To Cora Graphics, who gave this book its
absolutely beautiful cover. You are impressively talented. To
Melissa Wright, because I’m not sure when this journey became so
personal for us, but it’s created a lasting friendship I couldn’t
live without. To everyone who supports these books, I love you. To
Bree High. Elizabeth Kirke, Whitney Deboe, Ashley Morgan, Alicia
Lane Kirke, Jessica Johnson, Lisa Markson, Nanette Bradford,
Katherine Eccleston, Ashley Ubinger, Beth Maddox, Vicky Walters,
Katy Austin, Amy McCool, Julia Roop, Pyxi Rose, Alexis O’Shell,
Anne Nelson, Jessie de Schepper, Derinda Love, Jodi O’Brien,
Merisha Abbott, Tina Donnelly, Jessica Leonard, Lynn Shaw, Leah
Davis, and so many, many more. All of you truly inspire me! And to
the fans: you make every day worth it. Your words and your kindness
mean so much. I can’t thank you enough for reading. It truly means
the world. Sharing the love of reading one book at a time! From my
heart to yours!

To anyone who has ever believed in dragons,
swordfights, and talking to the trees …

The pen is mightier than the
sword

~Edward Bulwer-Lytton

Prologue

There was something about Medeisia at night,
about the way the shadows leapt and danced through the castle
fortress in Aireesi. Creatures spoke to each other in the palace,
ghosts wailed, and memories crawled through the stone. Blood seeped
up through the dungeons. None of it visible. It was felt, the air a
heavy place full of heartache, hope, and rebellion.

Prince Cadeyrn of Sadeemia stood along the
ramparts at the top of the palace, his hands gripping the stone,
his narrowed, intense gaze on the village below, on the swaying
forest bathed in moonlight. Above him, a dragon sailed across a
full moon, gliding through the air before lowering, his golden
figure brilliant.

“You rarely sleep,” a deep voice
said.

Cadeyrn kept his body rigid, his gaze
searching. There was little that surprised him.

“I doubt you came here to comment on my sleep
schedule, Lochlen.”

The dragon chuckled, wisps of smoke rising into
the air. “Yes, I suppose I didn’t.” There was a moment of silence
before a russet-haired man suddenly appeared next to the prince,
the transformed dragon’s hands finding the rampart next to
Cadeyrn’s. “Medeisia has come a long way over the past five
months,” he breathed.

“Not far enough,” Cadeyrn replied. He glanced
at the dragon. “Unrest grows beyond the borders. There’s no doubt
now. We’ll be going to war with New Hope.”

Lochlen shrugged. “It’s a small
nation.”

Cadeyrn snorted. “It’s a rich nation rising up
against two weakened kingdoms. Did you come here to give me hope,
dragon? Or did you come here because you needed to hear it for
yourself?”

Lochlen sighed, a stream of fire meeting the
still night. It threw an orange glow across the prince next to him,
deepening the shadows of his face. “I came here because you’re
going to need me.”

“You’ve gotten your pendant. There’s no reason
for the dragons to continue being involved in human affairs. Enjoy
the peace.”

“There is,” Lochlen protested. “You know it as
well as me.” He glanced at the prince. “If you return to Sadeemia,
you’re going to need to appoint a ruler.”

Cadeyrn’s jaw tensed. “Are you asking to be a
king?”

“No, I’m asking to take a human
consort.”

Cadeyrn froze. “You can’t possibly—”

“The dragons need a voice on the council.
Medeisia may be a human kingdom, but the dragons ruled it first,
and I will not let that be forgotten. My father is getting old,
prince. You know as well as I do what it means to bear the weight
of a people. I carry the burden of a dying race. Still, we are
stronger than most believe. Build your villages. Live your lives
peacefully, but don’t forget the dragons in the
mountains.”

“You can’t have her,” Cadeyrn stated
flatly.

Lochlen sneered. “Why? Because you can’t? I’m
Dracon. I am not looking for a lover. After all, I’m not human. I’m
looking for a voice. But all you humans seem to understand is
alliances, using people as pawns to keep yourselves in power. I
don’t need a queen. I need a human voice.”

“Have you asked her?” Cadeyrn inquired.
“Whether you look for a lover or not, her reputation will be
tarnished by the title alone.”

Lochlen stared into the night, his yellow-green
eyes flashing. “We’re bound by the pendant, prince. She has as much
dragon in her now as she does human. I trust no one
else.”

After a moment, Cadeyrn replied, “I wouldn’t
either. It’s a smart move.”

Lochlen glanced at him. “It is the burden of
rulers. To never be allowed to have what they truly want but
needing to do things they otherwise wouldn’t care to
do.”

Cadeyrn’s hands tightened on the stone. “You
want to be involved so heavily in human affairs?” His gaze slid to
the dragon, his eyes sharp. “And if it means leaving Medeisia
again? If it means fighting a war on foreign soil? If it means
becoming entwined in foreign politics? This isn’t just about a
battlefield anymore. This is about alliances, treaties, and endless
hours of bickering councils.”

“It’s what we fought for,” Lochlen answered.
“The rebels fought for freedom. They’ll do whatever it takes to
keep it, and I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure they do. I’ll do
it because, whether the dragons want to admit it or not, we care
about these people. They respect us. It’s a good relationship we
hope to maintain.”

Cadeyrn straightened, his shoulders back, his
gaze sliding to a large building just on the edge of the forest,
near the castle and bordering Aireesi. It was a new building still
under construction in places, but it was livable. The new scribe
school, the one presided over by Medeisia’s head scribe.

“She’d make a good queen,” Cadeyrn said. He
didn’t whisper it. He wasn’t one for hiding truths.

“Yes,” Lochlen replied, “she would. It’s a
shame she’ll never get the chance.”

Answering silence was soon met by a deep sigh.
“Protect her, dragon. We’ve yet to see the worst of this war. We’ve
yet to see the worst of its politics.”

Lochlen stepped back, transforming into the
beautiful golden dragon he’d been before, his large head swinging,
his yellow-green eyes glowing. His wings spread.

“The tattoos may be gone, but the marked in
this country will always be marked. We don’t have to protect them
anymore. We need to let them forge a new trail.”

He took to the air, his wings flapping before
he caught the air currents and glided into the night.

Below, a light came on in the scribe school, a
diminutive figure moving through the upper chambers. Cadeyrn
watched her. Candle in hand, the woman paused at a desk near the
window. Placing an open book before her, she sat, her gaze poring
over the pages. Every night she did this. Every night she soaked in
as much knowledge about her country and the kingdoms surrounding it
as she could. Every night, Cadeyrn watched her from the
palace.

Tonight, as he did every night, he vowed to
make it his last.

Part I

Division

Chapter 1

Ink called to me. It told me things that
nothing else ever could. It came alive, spoke to my soul, and left
me feeling less restless. It was that way with Escreet, the Goddess
of the Scribes. She made me calm in a sea of swelling mage powers.
Unlike the forest, words were quiet. It was what made them so
powerful for it was my connection with Escreet that saved half of
the rebels in the end with King Raemon. At times, I felt like my
heart was made of the trees and forest, my veins filled with ink,
my soul with dragonfire.

“You hide too often in parchment filled rooms,”
a voice grumbled.

My lips twitched. “Just do me a favor and don’t
sneeze.”

The dragon behind me huffed. “Do you think me
so petty?”

Closing the leather bound tome in front of me,
I pushed back my chair and stood. “It’s late, Lochlen.” Turning, I
found myself facing the russet-haired man I’d come to love. He
wasn’t as impressive as his dragon counterpart, but he was close.
“You didn’t come here to complain about parchment.”

Lochlen winked, his auburn hair like burning
embers around his shoulders. He leaned against the door frame, his
right foot sweeping the floor as if it were a tail rather than a
foot. His restlessness while in human form used to unsettle me, but
now I found myself drawn to him because of it. It was nice knowing
I wasn’t the only one who felt constrained in my body. My
constraint was different than his, but it was there.

“You aren’t the first to question my motives
tonight.” His gaze swept past me to the window at my back before
returning to my face. “We need to speak, Stone. I have an offer for
you.”

A sudden wind blew the loosely
latched window behind me open, the rough voice of the trees filling
the room.
“Being propositioned by a prince
of dragons is suspicious.”

Lochlen glared. “Mind your business, trees,” he
growled, smoke curling from his nose. “I come on Dracon business,
not on a mission for Silveet.”

I smiled. “I’m apt to agree with the trees.
What have you come for, Lochlen?”

He glanced around the room. There was nothing
hesitant about the dragon. He was always sure, always acutely aware
of everything.

“You’ve done a lot of good here,” he
breathed.

My heart swelled with pride. Thanks to a few
edicts written by Prince Cadeyrn of Sadeemia, I’d managed to open a
school for scribes in Medeisia. It was a work in progress, but it
was an economic boon. Not only was it opening up knowledge and
possibilities for the people, it was giving laborers employment.
Cadeyrn had over seen the hiring and the supplies, keeping in close
contact with his brother, Arien, in Sadeemia. Arien was acting king
of the country now that their father was comatose. The brothers had
seen a lot of tragedy, a lot of heartache, and death. Both had lost
sons.

“So you came to compliment me then?” I
asked.

Lochlen’s yellow-green eyes bored into mine.
“Become my human consort,” he blurted.

I froze, my lips parting. All of the facts I’d
ever read or learned about dragons suddenly overwhelmed me,
swirling through my head as if my body were human parchment. If I
looked down at my fingers, I wouldn’t be surprised to see them
dripping ink.

Beyond the room, the trees laughed, the grating
sound causing my spine to tingle.

“B-but you’re a dragon,” I
sputtered.

Lochlen’s brows rose. “Is it so disgusting an
idea?”

“You’re a dragon,” I repeated.

“We’ve established that.”

I stared. “Lochlen, I—”