The Dragon Kings' Forbidden Witch

”Why?” Thorne demanded, turning to face his oldest brother. ”Why is he the logical choice? Because he’s already claimed her? Because he got there first? Because GLACIUS is responding to her the way we all wish our dragons would respond?”

His voice carried pain beneath the anger, frustration beneath the rage.

Kaelen’s satisfied smile faded slightly as he understood the depth of what his brother was feeling.

”Thorne,” Draeven said, his tone softening slightly, ”you have the most important role. You’re investigating the mystery girl. You’re potentially uncovering a threat to Morgana’s safety. That matters. That’s crucial.”

”But I don’t get to be with her,” Thorne said bitterly. ”I don’t get to spend time with her. I don’t get to teach her. I don’t get anything.”

”You will,” Draeven said firmly. ”Once we’ve addressed the immediate threats, once we’ve stabilized the situation, you will have your time with her. But right now, we need to be strategic.”

Thorne turned back to the window, his body language screaming his frustration.

”I don’t have to like it,” he said coldly.

”No,” Draeven agreed. ”You don’t. But you do have to accept it.”

Kaelen, sensing that the conversation needed to change, brought them back to the central mystery.

”The masking,” he said. ”We still don’t know who did it. We still don’t know why.”

Draeven leaned back in his chair, his golden eyes thoughtful.

”We need to find out,” he said. ”Because whoever masked her is still out there. Whoever protected her before she arrived at the palace might still be interested in protecting her now.”

”Or interested in controlling her,” Thorne said, finally turning from the window. ”If someone powerful enough to mask her magic is out there, if they know what she is, they have leverage over her. They have leverage over us.”

”Then we find them before they can use that leverage,” Draeven said coldly. ”We send words to Simon. Let him send spies into the kingdom. They will ask questions about powerful witches, powerful wizards, any sight of dragons or anyone who might have been in Ashford eighteen years ago when Morgana was born.”

Kaelen’s pale eyes widened slightly.

”Eighteen years?” he said. ”You’ve calculated when she was born?”

”Based on her appearance, her physical maturity, the timeline of when she arrived in Ashford,” Draeven confirmed. ”She’s approximately eighteen years old. Which means eighteen years ago, someone masked her magical signature and left her in that village.”

The three kings understood the implication.

***

As they prepared to leave Draeven’s office, Kaelen paused at the door.

”She’s going to be extraordinary when she learns to control her power,” he said, his voice carrying absolute certainty. ”She’s going to be capable of things we haven’t even imagined.”

Thorne’s dark eyes flashed dangerously.

”Don’t get too comfortable with her,” he said coldly. ”Remember, she belongs to all of us. Not just to you.”

Kaelen smiled, an expression that was absolutely infuriating in its satisfaction.

”Of course, brother,” he said. ”But I got there first.”

He left the office before Thorne could respond.

Draeven and Thorne watched him go, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.

”This jealousy,” Thorne finally said, his voice low, ”it’s going to be a problem.”

”Yes,” Draeven agreed. ”But it’s also going to keep us sharp. It’s going to keep us focused. And it’s going to ensure that we all remain committed to protecting her.”

Thorne turned to face his oldest brother.

”He’s right, though,” Thorne said quietly. ”Once I investigate the girl, once Simon gives us answers, I’m going to want time with her. Real time. Not stolen moments.”

”You’ll have it,” Draeven promised. ”But first, we need to ensure the threats around her are neutralized. We need to understand the game Carrick is playing. We need to find the source of her masking.”

”And then?”

”And then,” Draeven said, a slight smile playing at his lips, ”the real complexity begins. Because three kings sharing one witch is going to require a level of understanding and cooperation we haven’t had to manage before.”

Thorne nodded slowly, understanding that his oldest brother was right.

This was just the beginning.

***

Kaelen walked back into his chambers with the bearing of a man who had just navigated a minefield of strategy, politics, and carefully measured words.

The meeting with Draeven had been exactly what he expected. The jealousy radiating from Thorne had been exactly what he’d hoped for. The responsibility that now rested on his shoulders....helping Morgana learn to control her magic, managing her training, keeping her close and safe, was exactly what he wanted.

But as he stepped through the door and the familiar silence of his chambers enveloped him, all of that fell away.

All of the strategy. All of the politics. All of the careful planning.

There was only her.

Morgana lay exactly where he had left her, curled into the center of his bed, surrounded by pillows and blankets, her dark hair spilled across the white linen like silk. Her breathing was deep and even, the breathing of someone who had been thoroughly, completely exhausted. One of her arms was stretched across the bed as if reaching for him, even in sleep.

The sight of her stopped him in his tracks.

Draeven’s words echoed in his mind....”we need to manage the council, manage Carrick, manage the threats.” The responsibility of what was coming, the complexity of what lay ahead, the dangers that surrounded her on all sides, all of it had seemed impossibly urgent just moments ago.

But standing here, watching her sleep with absolute trust in his bed, everything changed.

He closed the door quietly behind him and moved toward the bed with the slow, careful steps of a man entering sacred ground.

The morning light was streaming through the windows....or rather, through the space where the windows had been before her magic had shattered them. Cold air drifted in, carrying the scent of autumn and frost. He should have ordered them repaired. He should have called servants to fix the damage.

Instead, he found himself moving toward her, drawn like a dragon to gold, like water to the sea.