The Lost Alliance (Rise of the Drakens Book 2)

that needed an answer. Benedict’s amethyst gaze dropped to me, and I instinctively knew what to do. I sang my own song—high and lilting, a soaring melody separate, yet complementary to Benedict’s sorrow. He joined me, my higher counterpoint lifting his melody higher and higher, from the low depths he had plunged to a hopeful, soaring new beginning—
The other drakens joined in, and my entire world was filled with song. Rich, full harmonies swarmed around me, and I not only heard the music, but I also felt it. I kept singing and lost myself. So much so, I didn’t hear the other drakens drop out. I missed it when Benedict stopped singing, only registering the lack of other music when he put a gentle hand on my arm. My eyes snapped open, and I ended my song on a final, high note. There was a long beat of silence, the only sound the roaring of the wind, my chest heaving with emotion. Wyrren stepped out of the crowd, turning back and facing the drakens as the only remaining Elder.
“Drakens of Lyoness, do you accept the song of your queen? Her affirmation of loyalty and love to you?”
Wyrren had barely gotten to ‘Lyoness’ before they were shouting, yelling, screaming‘YES! YES!’ Their loyalty tightened my chest, and then Astrid and Vela surged through the crowd, a crown held between their hands.
I might have stopped breathing; it was hard to tell. The crown was gold and silver, bronze and iron—many different metals twisted and coiled together in an elaborate pattern. The metals were dotted with stars and moonlight--gems that shined so brightly I was unsure if they were even from the earth. The drakens gathered gasped.
“The covens of the earth and the air bless this coronation with the promise of friendship and cooperation. Knowing you lost your former crowns during the tragedy, we wish to offer you new ones to further signify the rebirth of your species, and our alliance.”
Astrid paused, allowing Wyrren to come forward and bow before Benedict. He withdrew a second crown, bigger than mine but no less majestic. He rose and offered it to Benedict. My first mate put a hand to his chest and knelt before Wyrren. There wasn’t a dry eye as the Elder gently set it atop Benedict’s head, stepping back. He turned and accepted my crown from Vela, offering it up to the King of the drakens.
“King Benedict son of Fane, do you accept this female as your queen?”
“I accept.”
It would be easy to get nervous, but I wouldn’t. This coronation wasn’t just for me or Benedict. It was for Ronan. It was for Kieran. It was for the seventy-five or so surviving drakens, and the scores of witches scattered among them, relying on our help to one day take back their forests.
I sucked in my insecurities and bowed before them, a perfect movement that was the twin to Benedict’s. Wyrren rose and Benedict took the crown with barely a glance at him or the witches. I stomped down my ire and indignation at his continued treatment of the witches. This wasn’t the time or place to make a scene.
“The drakens accept the song of their queen, as do I, their king.” His eyes met mine as he laid the crown on my brow, and I was astonished at how light it felt. I straightened and he turned me, holding me lightly by the fingertips as he presented me to the crowd.
“I present to you Wren—Queen of the drakens in her own right.”
The drakens went wide-eyed with wonder, mumbling to each other. I didn’t pay them any attention, my eyes only on Benedict. He turned towards me, giving me a smile radiant in its sincerity. This man—this horribly infuriating, shockingly damaged man—could still make me weak at the knees despite everything we’d been through together. Everything stopped as he gazed at me with such protectiveness, such pride, such love. He looked away, and the spell was broken. The roar of the crowd reached my ears and I turned, feeling their admiration wash over me. Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes, but I held my emotions back. I couldn’t ruin all the hard work the witches had put into me, after all.
After the cheers had died down, Astrid, Vela, and Wyrren were joined by Ronan and Kieran. Ronan stopped at my side, giving me a rogue grin as he put one hand on my shoulder. Kieran stood next to Benedict, doing the same. The Elder and two witches took a deep breath and said in perfect unison.
“This union is blessed by the people and the earth and skies. Go now and secure our destinies.”
Benedict’s arm was around my waist a second later, and we vanished into the darkness, together at last with all three of my mates.

Eight
Light returned as I stood in a massive treehouse that overlooked the entire southern valley. For a moment I wondered where we were, because this lush, green paradise couldn’t possibly be the desolate wasteland Lyoness had been only a few sunrises ago. Smaller tree houses dotted the horizon below me, already an entire village rebuilt and ready for habitation. Perhaps the witches weren’t that far ahead of the drakens.
“A dozen earth witches were dedicated solely to this project—to have our home ready for your coronation night.”
Our home. I spun around, Benedict’s body tense as he watched me carefully for a reaction. Instead of giving one, my eyes roved around the large expanse. The wooden floor had been covered in woven mats, topped with furs and rugs. Some of them I thought I recognized from the mountain. Small piles of cushions were scattered in the corners, creating comfortable areas to lounge in front of a small, low-set wooden table. Much of the room was taken up by the massive bed—a twin to the one I had left behind in the mountain, but twice as large. It was surrounded by thin, gauze hangings, and covered in