it. He could swallow that merman in one gulp and use his fin to pick
the bones from his teeth, but he’d hold back.
For now.
“Do you know why you’ve been summoned?” One of the two
dragon Conclave members asked him.
This one was older than the other if the slight dullness of
his scales were any indication. Dragons were practically immortal they were so
long-lived, but even the eldest of dragons changed over time. If this dragon
had been spending most of its time indoors within the Conclave, it made sense
the dragon would begin to fade, to dull.
Dragons needed the air on their scales and under their wings
as much as angels like Shade and Ambrose.
Dante faced the older dragon, Alexander—yes, that was his
name. It had been a millennium since he’d seen the old one, but he’d never
forget the power that radiated from the dragon.
“I don’t know the reason you’ve sent for me, only that I was
to come. One doesn’t ignore the Conclave.”
Murmurs of agreement filled the room, but Dante ignored most
of them, trying to at least get a sense of who was there and if he needed to
find a way to flee. There would be no fighting for him, not when he was this
outnumbered. He would fight until his last breath, but he wouldn’t win. Not
here. Not now.
He still didn’t know if the Conclave was friend or foe;
however, Dante wasn’t sure it mattered. They were far more powerful than he
was, and even a friend in that position wouldn’t sit comfortable with him.
Dante had been correct in assuming they had more power than
he, but he’d been wrong in one clear sense. At least two of the members of the
conclave were far, far younger than he. One of the wizards and a fae were less
than a thousand years old. No, they weren’t young men or as young as Jace even,
but they weren’t as old as the others in the Conclave. If he had to guess, he
figured that some of the Conclave’s ranks were beginning to shift.
A small tendril of fear slid up his spine.
This would not be good.
“You should be aware the Conclave has been following you for
quite some time,” Alexander said, his voice low and steady, as if he had all
the time in the world to get to his point.
Dante frowned and lowered his snout. “Following?” He hadn’t
felt a presence following him, and he was damned good at spotting anyone
looking for him.
The other dragon waved a claw and rolled his eyes. The
younger dragon by his side snorted, an annoyed expression his face.
“We’ve known of you. You know of us because of your Royal
House, yet you would have been on our radar regardless because of the sin you
committed against the demon realm.”
Dante held back a growl.
He’d made one mistake that he still didn’t believe was a mistake, and it had haunted him for
almost three hundred years.
He didn’t say anything as there didn’t seem to be any use.
The other dragon would make his point eventually. Dante just hoped it would be
before he rolled over and died.
“You killed the demon Conclave member to save a friend of
yours, do you remember?”
The room silenced, and Dante raised his head high. It wasn’t
as if what he’d done was a secret to anyone in this room. He’d killed a member
of their Conclave. Of course they would know. They’d been the ones who had
given him his sentence—even if he’d never actually met them.
“Yes. He was killing a woman I considered to be under my
protection.” He wouldn’t lie. There was no use. The kill had been justified. It
didn’t matter that the demon had held higher power than Dante in the grand
scheme of things.
“You were banished from the entire hell realm because of
it.”
“I would do it again.”
Again, no use in lying.
Murmurs filled the room again, this time some sounding on
his side—including the two younger members.
Good.
“You saved the Goodwin bear and killed the demon,” the
wizard interrupted. “And now, by a twist of fate, that bear is the paternal
grandmother of your new
the bones from his teeth, but he’d hold back.
For now.
“Do you know why you’ve been summoned?” One of the two
dragon Conclave members asked him.
This one was older than the other if the slight dullness of
his scales were any indication. Dragons were practically immortal they were so
long-lived, but even the eldest of dragons changed over time. If this dragon
had been spending most of its time indoors within the Conclave, it made sense
the dragon would begin to fade, to dull.
Dragons needed the air on their scales and under their wings
as much as angels like Shade and Ambrose.
Dante faced the older dragon, Alexander—yes, that was his
name. It had been a millennium since he’d seen the old one, but he’d never
forget the power that radiated from the dragon.
“I don’t know the reason you’ve sent for me, only that I was
to come. One doesn’t ignore the Conclave.”
Murmurs of agreement filled the room, but Dante ignored most
of them, trying to at least get a sense of who was there and if he needed to
find a way to flee. There would be no fighting for him, not when he was this
outnumbered. He would fight until his last breath, but he wouldn’t win. Not
here. Not now.
He still didn’t know if the Conclave was friend or foe;
however, Dante wasn’t sure it mattered. They were far more powerful than he
was, and even a friend in that position wouldn’t sit comfortable with him.
Dante had been correct in assuming they had more power than
he, but he’d been wrong in one clear sense. At least two of the members of the
conclave were far, far younger than he. One of the wizards and a fae were less
than a thousand years old. No, they weren’t young men or as young as Jace even,
but they weren’t as old as the others in the Conclave. If he had to guess, he
figured that some of the Conclave’s ranks were beginning to shift.
A small tendril of fear slid up his spine.
This would not be good.
“You should be aware the Conclave has been following you for
quite some time,” Alexander said, his voice low and steady, as if he had all
the time in the world to get to his point.
Dante frowned and lowered his snout. “Following?” He hadn’t
felt a presence following him, and he was damned good at spotting anyone
looking for him.
The other dragon waved a claw and rolled his eyes. The
younger dragon by his side snorted, an annoyed expression his face.
“We’ve known of you. You know of us because of your Royal
House, yet you would have been on our radar regardless because of the sin you
committed against the demon realm.”
Dante held back a growl.
He’d made one mistake that he still didn’t believe was a mistake, and it had haunted him for
almost three hundred years.
He didn’t say anything as there didn’t seem to be any use.
The other dragon would make his point eventually. Dante just hoped it would be
before he rolled over and died.
“You killed the demon Conclave member to save a friend of
yours, do you remember?”
The room silenced, and Dante raised his head high. It wasn’t
as if what he’d done was a secret to anyone in this room. He’d killed a member
of their Conclave. Of course they would know. They’d been the ones who had
given him his sentence—even if he’d never actually met them.
“Yes. He was killing a woman I considered to be under my
protection.” He wouldn’t lie. There was no use. The kill had been justified. It
didn’t matter that the demon had held higher power than Dante in the grand
scheme of things.
“You were banished from the entire hell realm because of
it.”
“I would do it again.”
Again, no use in lying.
Murmurs filled the room again, this time some sounding on
his side—including the two younger members.
Good.
“You saved the Goodwin bear and killed the demon,” the
wizard interrupted. “And now, by a twist of fate, that bear is the paternal
grandmother of your new
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