The Dragon King’s Substitute Bride
Chapter 44

HERA

The rhythmic, undulating ride through the capital's cobbled streets is nothing like I had thought it would be.

No one is throwing rotten eggs or spoilt vegetables at the human who must have bewitched their king into marrying her.

Instead I can hear music and laughter; the happy sounds of a people in the throes of festivities.

And when I look out my window, into the sea of faces lined along the streets that are bursting with colors and merriment, not a single one of them is staring at me and my passing carriage with anything more hostile than open curiosity. Could the dragonkin of the 5th realm not be as villainous as we have been led to believe?

The thought makes me uncomfortable so I direct my gaze away from the window and the people celebrating outside.

The chief Ryder has not said a word to me since we left the palace gates.

Even though he sits directly opposite me, he feels far away.

He is being careful to keep his distance.

His gaze, stern and alert is fixed on something outside the single window of the velvet padded carriage and he does not turn even when I know he can feel me glancing curiously at him.

I see the temple long before we arrive and the pitter patter of the horses' hooves against the uneven street, echoes the racing of my heart that is steadily increasing with each step that brings me closer and closer towards it. Towards him.

I chew on my lip and twist my fingers nervously.

The carriage stops with a jolt and the doors swing open, flooding the small enclosed space with bright sunlight.

Suddenly it all feels too much...too real.

There is a lump in my throat and I can feel tears welling up in my eyes.

"He is not the monster you think he is."

I blink up at Leo through the wetness of my lashes.

A tiny part of me wants to believe the words of the chief Ryder who has since highlighted and is even now standing outside, holding out his hand to me.

I want to believe it so badly it hurts.

Because then it would make me feel less guilty about the way I sometimes forget to hate him, about the way I think of his strong big hands and all the things his mouth could do to me.

But to my realm and all the humans of Averia who had to suffer for so many years under the relentless attacks of him and his Ryders, the dragon king will never be anything else.

Which is why I have to do this; to give my people and my family the justice they deserve.

So I sniff my tears away and push past my fear and my inhibitions.

He is the first person I search for the minute my feet hit the ground.

And when my eyes finally meet his, there are absolutely no words to describe how he looks, standing there, waiting for me.

Dressed in a rich, embroided tunic the same deep red as my dress and fitted with metal plates on his shoulders, armor sheaths on his forearms and his two swords strapped to his back, managing to look impossibly handsome and twice as deadly all at the same time.

And just like that my heart is racing for a completely different reason.

The pooling heat in my belly and the weakness in my knees is not fear, it is desire.

The distance between us is closing with each step and I struggle to keep a firm grasp on the exact reason I despise him but it keeps slipping through my fingers.

The way he is looking at me, like I am the only thing that matters, the only thing he sees is definitely not helping.

By the time I reach him, I am so nervous I can barely stand. I want to say something but I don't know what. "Dragon King..."

"Slave." He whispers the word and smirks, deep gold eyes beneath dark brows twinkling with amusement.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and just like that I am too annoyed to remember my fear.

He takes my hand from Leo and we ascend the steps towards the doors through which the three king makers have disappeared.

The chief Ryder follows closely behind us, followed by the nobles of the dragon realm.

With one last peek over my shoulder at the sea of people trailing behind us, I step into the stifling darkness of the dragons' temple.

The air in the impossibly vast room is stale and unmoving, smelling mildly of wet sand.

The walls are so far apart I can barely make out the tiny circular windows running along the very top of both walls.

Tall, moss covered stone pillars run on both sides in the middle of the temple creating a sort of path leading towards another set of steps that ascend up to a high altar.

Blue flames burning on the pillars cast a dull colored glow on the smooth stone path but it is the strangely intense light, coming from the altar that actually fills the large chamber with a warm glow.

I exhale quietly as we move toward the altar, completely mesmerized.

As we draw closer, I can see the altar clearly and the sight nearly stops my racing heart completely.

At the top of the steps and just before the altar are two immensely large dragon statues.

One the deep, fierce red of pure rubies and another made from spotless molten gold.

Intertwined together to form a sort of arch, the two dragons seem to be glowing from within.

There is something about the statues, beyond their almost realistic appearance.

An awe inspiring beauty and an immense power emanating from them that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and my mouth feel like I swallowed a ball of dry cotton.

The room is buzzing with the quiet voices of the many dragonkin below and the King makers stand beneath the arch the dragons make, silently watching Midas and I ascend the many steps to the raised platform.

The oldest kingmaker, the one with the longest beard who I assume must be Arydian, messenger of Clotho the present steps forward.

He holds out his staff and all at once everyone falls dead silent.

Then he begins to speak, his voice carrying loud and clear, echoing throughout the temple in a way that quite frankly should not be possible.

There is something almost hypnotic in the way he is speaking.

The words ancient, the vowels rolling and lilting in a manner that is both fearsome and awe inspiring.

It is the language of the people who walk the path of the two fire gods.

Dragon Tongue.

I do not understand a single word.

Which is just as well because I am barely even listening.

All of my attention belongs to the king standing before me.

He needs to stop looking at me like that; like he might be thinking of doing things he should not be thinking of while standing before the gods and their messengers.

But now the ideas are in my head too and I do not hear the question until it is asked the third time.

"If there be any before us this day, who bear in their hearts and in their minds any reasons at all for which this solemn union may not take place step forward now and declare it before the gods and the people or forever remain silent." The large space is so silent, I can hear the sound of birds calling to each other from outside.

I wonder how the crowd would react if I raise my own hand.

Midas narrows his eyes at me almost like he can tell what I am thinking. And for a moment I swear I can almost hear him in my head.

"Do not even think about it."

I narrow mine back wondering if he hears the scowling reply in my head.

"Relax dragon king. I am not stupid you know."

He straightens and there is no mistaking the message in his slightly raised brow.

"Could have fooled me."

"Why you..."

Arydian's voice cuts through our silent exchange. "If there are no objections, will the both of you please step forward?"

We step beneath the arch of dragons and I feel it again, that unnerving warmth of ancient power.

The small man with his grey, unseeing eyes turns towards Midas. "Dragon king."

"King maker."

"Are you here of your own volition?"

"Yes." His voice is flat, impossible to read.

"And you, Hera..."

How does he know my name?

"...beloved daughter of the human realm of Averia..."

Wait, he called me beloved daughter, not princess. Is it possible...?

His voice interrupts my thoughts before they can spiral out of control "...are you here of your own volition?"

No.

"Yes."

"And do you, on this day, before the dragon gods and the people who walk their path, wish to be bound to King Midas the immortal, master of dragons and ruler of the 5th realm, to rule by his side, forsaking all others and to do all that is in your power to uphold the sanctity of the dragon realm?"

I don't know.

"Yes."

"Speak up child."

I attempt to clear away the lump that has formed in the back of my throat. "Yes I do."

"Kneel."

Heart pounding, I lower myself to the ground, head bowed.

And there, before the fire gods and under the watchful eyes of hundred of dragonkin, I swear an oath I have absolutely no intention of keeping.

When it is done, the three men suddenly raise their hands in the air, gaze upward.

It is only Arydian who speaks but his voice is like the voice of more than one person speaking in unison, a quiet, deep rumbling so obviously charged with power it sends chills running down my spine.

"And so by the power vested in me as messenger of Clotho the Present, I, Arydian and my brothers beside me, proclaim you Hera, wife of King Midas the immortal and queen of the dragon realm."

He steps forward, holding a crown that was not there a minute ago.

A wave of his hand and the wreath of roses on my head disappears.

And in its place is the jewel studded crown of the 5th realm.

It feels like the final nail in the coffin of my fate.

Wonderful and scary all at once.

The wrinkled old man helps me to my feet, eyes crinkling at the edges and his face beaming with a wide smile.

He turns towards Midas, kissing him on each cheek.

"I bestow upon you a kiss of peace and the blessings of the Fates. You may now kiss the Bride."

Midas steps towards me.

My palms are sweaty and I swallow gently, replaceing myself suddenly incapable of doing anything more than stare at him as he closes the distance between us.

Oh for heaven's sake move your body Hera. Are you going to keep standing there watching...

His mouth closes over mine and everything else disappears.

There is nothing peaceful about the way he kisses me.

Hard and fast and insistent.

Gods above...

My fingers clutch desperately at the front of his shirt because my knees are threatening to give way beneath me and his arms wrapped firmly around my waist are the only thing keeping me from melting into a pool of mushy desire. Then just as suddenly as it began, it is over and he moves away from me, leaving me disoriented and breathlessly dizzy with longing.

Not enough...Not enough...Not enough.

My eyes blink slowly open in an attempt to regain my composure.

It had lasted barely a fraction of a minute and yet my heart refuses to stop pounding.

But I can tell I am not the only one who is feeling the effects of those few seconds.

His eyes have darkened and beneath his armor, his chest is heaving gently, almost like he is struggling to settle his breathing.

He did not want to stop.

And if the way he is looking at me is anything to go by then Hades help me, this night could not come fast enough.