The Lost Alliance (Rise of the Drakens Book 2)

plants that looked like they had been here for decades stood tall and firm, with several ornate tree houses already built and swaying gently in the breeze. A few witches were working on raising another up into a tree’s limbs, while three or four worked together at the bottom, weaving woven mats. The ones left were trying to coax the larger trees to flower and produce fruit. Across from them, others were busy extracting wax from a large, leafy bush to roll into candles.
“Don’t tell your beast of a mate. Our progress here is going much quicker due to our discovery. We’ll adapt the same methods in the valley starting tomorrow.”
I put my hands to my mouth, stifling a laugh. Benedict would be furious to see the witches have a full forest and lodgings before the drakens did.
“Perhaps wait until everyone is settled before giving him a tour?”
Vela raised an amused eyebrow. A moderate sized hut was erected in the middle of the makeshift village, enough to probably house five to six witches. I tilted my head to the side at the odd method of construction.
“Ah, I admit we got a bit ambitious. We figured if we could find a manner of building that didn’t involve growing everything from scratch, it would help tremendously.”
I nodded vaguely at Vela, taking in the building in front of me. It was shaped like a dome, and the made entirely out of—
“The island has plenty of lava, so the earth witches helped us experiment. We found a rounded shape worked best, with a small hole at the top for ventilation. The magma is much sturdier than wood, perhaps just as much as stone. This first attempt is not very pretty to look at but it’s solid structure.
The large, unassuming black dome in front of looked stable enough. Astrid gestured grandly, and I stepped inside. Rugs lined the floor, and a fireplace burned in the center. The smoke rose straight up, escaping through the top hole like she had mentioned. Candles lit the inside, giving it a more homely look. There were a few threadbare pillows, and not much else.
“If it weren’t for the hordes, we could pop back and forth and scavenge what we could from the village. Perhaps sometime in the future.”
Astrid looked forlorn around at the bare decoration, then wiped all traces of sadness from her face. She clapped her hands together, and excitedly faced me.
“Ladies, let’s make a queen!”
I hadn’t realized there was so much involved with...well...everything. Astrid had produced a long list of procedure and protocol from Domik, and I reminded myself to give him my thanks later. Between the list and Astrid’s own memories of draken culture, they had a basic idea of what to expect for the ceremony. My head started to ache almost immediately.
“The coronation usually happens on top of the castle turrets, but the highest cliff on the east side will suffice, since there is no castle. Benedict mentioned it would amuse him to force the demon hordes to watch the entire thing if they are still hovering when it happens.”
I nodded dumbly, not really listening.
“Then of course there’s your statement of accord, where you swear your allegiance to the draken people—”
“I’d rather thought risking my life and uniting them against a usurping would have fit the ticket.” I interrupted, running short on patience. I sat up, dislodging the cool leaves an earth witch had put over my eyes to ‘cleanse the puffiness’ from my face. She picked them up, huffing when I refused to put them on again. I couldn’t move, because there was a witch attached to each of my hands and feet, painstakingly painting my nails with dyed berries and tree sap.
“Sit back and shut up. Tradition is important to the drakens.”
I wanted to scream there was no point to tradition when your species was nearly extinct, but somehow, felt that Astrid wouldn’t really care. I laid back against the pillow and closed my eyes. I would at least try to relax.
“You know quite a bit about drakens. Were you around them a lot before the wars?”
Astrid paused her endless litany of rules and historical information. The hole at the top of the hut had gone dark, bearing witness to how long we had been at it.
“Never you mind.” She gave the witches around us a pointed look.
“Time to sleep.”
My mates had promised to have our own hut built by today, so I was looking forward to christening it with all three of them. Astrid raised a finger, tutting when I stood to leave the hut.
“I think not. The queen stays away from her king the night of the coronation.”
I felt my mood decline rapidly. “What about my other two mates? They are not kings,” I argued, my voice taking on a desperate tone. Vela stroked my arm soothingly.
“It is only for one night, and after all, it’s—”
“—tradition,” I finished lamely, looking at the ground.
Sensing the dark turn my thoughts had taken, Astrid clapped her hands. The other witches gave slight bows and left, leaving me only with her and Vela. They gestured to the pallet in the corner, piled with furs.
“It is yours tonight—our gift from both clans. We will come back in the morning to dress you for the ceremony.”
“—And for after.” Vela whispered, a hint of mischievousness in her eyes. Astrid swatted her shoulder.
“Enough of that! They’ve already bonded.”
“Still,” Vela huffed, but they both mercifully left, giggling as they crossed the threshold. The tension I had been holding onto all day released in one go, my shoulders slumping as I sat on the small cot. My hands ran over the soft furs, relaxing as I gripped fine hairs between my fingers. I didn’t like being the center of attention, but I would do it for Benedict. I’d do it for Kieran and Ronan, and for every draken who fought for me when they hadn’t had to back at Dark Haven.
I laid down gingerly on the cot. I