Court of Flame

  Blurb

  A heartbreaking decision between love and responsibility…

  The former mad King Emberich is back and out for vengeance. He wants to destroy Sven, my love and sovereign, for daring to stand up to the crazy, bloodthirsty tyrant.

  I have to stop my father, nothing else matters.

  I've got allies, sure, but if I call on them there’ll be full out, open warfare between the Dragons and the Phoenixes. No one wants that, least of all me.

  I know what Sven would say. I should let him go rather than risk everything. That's not going to happen.

  He's mine, I'm his, and I'm going to solve this. My heart wars with my duty but I refuse to let either one go.

  Court of Flame

  The Phoenix Wars Book Three

  Miranda Martin

  Nadia Hunter

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Miranda Martin

  Red Hot Sneak Peek: Dragon’s Baby

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  "Oh man. I really want it." There may or may not have been the slightest hint of a whine in my voice. Slight, mind you. I was an adult, and I damn well acted like it. Usually.

  "Hmm. Well, that's a wish I think I might be able to accommodate." Sven kissed my cheek and walked over to the little cart selling baked goods on the side of the road.

  If someone else got it for me, it was a gift, and I had to eat it, right? There were no calories in a gift. I was standing by that assertion.

  The young girl with the happy yellow apron working behind the cart blushed a little as Sven smiled, greeting her. He had that effect on women, and I couldn't fault her taste. Not when I still felt hot and bothered sometimes just looking at the Phoenix King.

  Dressed in a white t-shirt that showed off the lean muscle on his long frame and the broadness of his shoulders and his carved biceps, he was worth a second look. Or ten. My eyes skated down to his lean hips and the way the faded denim molded to his backside. Definitely worth more than one look. Not that it was just his looks that were a draw. Far from it.

  Even apart from the intelligence that was so clear in his eyes, Sven had that indefinable quality, that certain something that made people look at him when he entered the room, even if he wasn't the biggest guy there or the one dressed most extravagantly. He was just a force to be reckoned with, a personality that couldn't be ignored.

  The girl handed a couple of the little fluffy cupcakes with delicate pink frosting over to Sven in a small container. He smiled at her as he took it, the expression making his narrow, intelligent face even more handsome, his bright blonde hair pulled back into a stubby ponytail, leaving all the hard planes and angles bare.

  I could almost hear the teenager sigh as he turned away and walked back over, handing me a sprinkle-topped cupcake that sparkled in the sunlight.

  "Thank you," I murmured, my focus turning to the sweet treat. I had my priorities straight, after all. I wasn't a barbarian. Well, not all the time. "Oh, it smells so good," I crooned in anticipation.

  Peeling off the wrapper with careful fingers, I took a big bite. Go big or go home.

  I closed my eyes, sighing myself as the sweet vanilla-and-strawberry flavor hit my taste buds.

  "Mmm." I opened my eyes to see Sven watching me, a faint smile on his own face.

  "Good?" he asked, turning me with an arm around my waist.

  "Yes," I said enthusiastically taking another bite. "We may have to come back here regularly just for more of these."

  He chuckled, turning his head to glance behind us. I knew he was looking for Igna and Reelin back there. They were following us at a discreet distance as we walked through the streets of Ashur's city, exploring at a leisurely pace.

  We had a much larger contingent of guards waiting back at Ashur's place, but Sven had put his foot down on having all twenty of them shadow us through the streets. I could just imagine trailing that paranoid and potentially deadly crowd. I was sure they'd blend right in.

  Igna had not wanted to relent, but Sven had pointed out that a dragon's territory was arguably safer than even the palace itself back at the capital, considering the historical animosity between the phoenixes and the dragons that had only just begun to thaw recently. If there were phoenixes who wanted to take a shot at either of us, it would be a lot easier to visit the capital, where we usually were and where all phoenixes were welcome.

  I'd also added that we'd only draw more eyes to us with that many guards, possibly increasing the danger and negating the whole reason why we'd deliberately dressed in jeans—jeans shorts for me—and t-shirts instead of the traditional lightweight tunic and pants we tended to wear.

  The double assault had worked. He'd finally agreed—grudgingly. And, I suspected, only because he knew Sven could just give him an order he'd have to obey. Not that Sven threw around orders lightly. He'd surrounded himself with people he respected, whose opinions mattered to him. He tried hard not to shut them down in most cases.

  "I have to listen to them, especially when I don't want to," he'd explained. "Or I could end up with a bunch of useless 'yes men' around me. An echo chamber of my own thoughts isn't helpful. And that's not what I want or what the phoenixes need."

  He was right.

  He didn't abuse his power, though sometimes he had to make a decision that wasn’t popular because he thought it was the right thing to do.

  In this case, we'd both decided security wasn't going to be our prison. We needed to be able to live as normally as we could, or else we'd slowly grow out of touch with the people that we were supposed to be helping and taking care of. And, we might go insane trapped in the palace, constantly surrounded by guards, tripping over them if we even wanted to go to the bathroom.

  And we'd already had one insane king. That hadn't worked out so well.

  Sven laced his fingers with mine, his palm against mine, his face relaxed as we strolled down another wide, pretty street, the sparkle in the asphalt and the sidewalk lending an eye-catching shimmer to the sandstone-colored city.

  It was a beautiful place, and I really appreciated how wide the streets were built, wide enough to accommodate dragon wings. Which meant it was also wide enough to accommodate phoenix wings. Not that I'd seen many dragons flying in the streets.

  "Oh, let's go in that store," I murmured, as a particular one caught my eye. I pointed to one that had a shiny metallic sign proclaiming it an antique store. I loved looking at old things, thinking about how different life used to be before we'd burned through the ozone layer, destroyed so much of the planet.

  Mother nature had finally rebelled, making much of it uninhabitable, especially for humans. The silver lining to the whole thing was that it had allowed us to live openly, given us so much space that the humans couldn't live in. It took a lot of time and resources to build those city domes that they lived in to protect them from the caustic air and the harsh sun.

  I deliberately switched gears. I wanted to think positive thoughts while we were here, after all.

  Sven looked over at my gesture, taking in the pleasant storefront
.

  "Sure," he agreed easily, turning with me to go inside. "Let's see what they have."

  I grinned, excited to browse simply for fun. We had no agenda while we were here. We'd simply needed a break from everything, needed to get away from the capital where the pressure of expectations was heavy most of the time. We also needed a break from the fear of what might be coming next after I was kidnapped, my blood stolen.

  I pushed that thought away as stress tried to intrude once again. Today was just a day for Sven and me. I would not let all my worries in today. Not after Sven had made such an effort.

  He'd cleared his schedule and asked me if I wanted to leave for a weekend trip after I came back to our suite dead tired for the third day in a row. I'd hemmed and hawed about it, worrying about how much needed to be done, about leaving everything in Blaise's hands, but Sven had been firm.

  We both needed a break.

  If everything couldn't function without us for a couple of days, we weren't doing our jobs right. In the end, seeing the stress and exhaustion on his face was what finally had me relenting. If I was feeling overwhelmed and stressed, I couldn't even imagine how he felt. The crown was a heavy weight to bear. So I'd agreed.

  But I hadn't particularly wanted to go to a city dome after my last not-so-great experience, and other phoenix territories were just places where we'd have to play at more politics. They weren't places to go to relax, not really, especially not with Sven. Then there was the reality that picking any of the other territories could be seen as playing favorites. I knew I couldn't pick my own flock, I already visited it frequently now that I could openly see Siro. It wouldn't really be a break there anyway.

  No, we needed somewhere completely different to unplug. Somewhere we could just focus on us.

  Then Sven had suggested visiting Ashur's territory. It was perfect. Phoenixes didn't go to dragon territories, so we'd be safe enough from our own people haranguing us. And we'd get to see Ashur, Mia, and Omari. I'd gotten to know them better since I first met them and now understood why Sven called them friends.

  I'd also been so intrigued by the brief sight of Ashur's city I'd had—while I wasn’t at my best—I'd jumped on the chance to pay a real visit, without another motive in mind.

  It was telling that visiting a Dragon Lord's territory was less political at this point than visiting another phoenix territory. But it was what it was.

  I was distracted from my less than vacation-like thoughts—maybe I needed a rubber band to snap on my wrist every time my mind started to stray—when we stepped inside the relatively dim interior of the store.

  We both came to a stop just inside, letting our eyes adjust. Once they had, I didn't know where to look first. There was so much squeezed inside.

  Old, beat-up tables and desks, lamps in shapes I didn't even know they built them in, carved cabinetry, rugs faded with time but still clearly beautiful works of art. Knickknacks, some obviously only decorative, others also serving a purpose like bookends and pens, though actual books were quite rare now, as was hand-written anything.

  I was still taking everything in when Sven made a beeline for a display of weapons along the back wall. I could see why when I glanced where he was headed. There were various types of swords, from broadswords to rapiers, along with other bladed weapons like daggers, and even throwing stars that looked like they'd actually seen some use. There were more types as well, including an assortment of bows, but Sven went right to the swords.

  While he looked at them, I wandered over to the daggers a little farther down. I bent over to take a closer look at a small, cream-colored one, the scabbard engraved with delicate flowers. The handle of the dagger was a matching cream-and-gold, a slightly larger flower set in the center of it. The craftsmanship was superb.

  "Would you like to take a look?"

  I straightened at the welcoming voice, having heard the sure footsteps approaching. The man looked as pleasant as he sounded. Middle-aged, with square-framed glasses resting on his weathered face, he was dressed in a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to expose surprisingly strong forearms. He looked almost like a professor. He also looked right at home in these surroundings.

  "Oh, I don't—"

  "Can we see the cream-colored dagger?" Sven interrupted before I could put the man off.

  "Of course," he murmured, reaching out to lift the weapon from the hooks it was resting on. It was small, but when he put it in my hand, it wasn’t as small as I thought it would be. Probably the flowers and overall delicacy of the design had thrown me off.

  I pulled the dagger out of the sheath, admiring the shining blade. It looked very well cared for, and it fit my hand perfectly.

  "We'll take it," Sven said.

  "I'm used to a bit more haggling," the man replied with a slight chuckle.

  Then he named the price. Not cheap, but the dagger was a solid piece of work.

  "I don't need it," I protested. "I just thought it was pretty."

  "I know. I want to get you something pretty, and this has the added benefit of also being a weapon. Form and function."

  I couldn't help smiling at that. Leave it to him to get me a dagger instead of a purse or pretty jewelry. Though I wouldn't want either of them over this.

  "All right," I agreed after mulling it over. "If you'll let me buy you that sword you were looking at."

  His eyes glanced over at the katana. It was another beautiful piece of work, the gold-and-black diamond design on the hilt matching the scabbard covering the curved blade.

  "You don't have to—" he started.

  "I want to," I interrupted. "And I really want this dagger. You wouldn't want me to have to put it back, would you?"

  A smile tugged at his lips. He turned to the man.

  "May I?"

  "Of course."

  So Sven took it off the wall and checked the blade, giving it a few practice swings.

  "We'll take both," Sven finally said, sheathing the sword.

  "Wonderful," the man murmured, turning to lead us to the front. "I'll give you a good deal since you are getting two now."

  He named a price that Sven agreed to immediately. I'd noticed that Sven wasn't a haggler. I supposed if you had as much money as he did, haggling felt unnecessary.

  The man watched us without being rude about it while he completed the transaction and wrapped up the dagger and the katana, his fingers moving carefully on the pieces. I got the impression that he loved every piece in here. He certainly treated both weapons with care.

  When he handed them over in the neat boxes, my guess about why he was staring was confirmed.

  "I'm sorry, I've just never had phoenix customers before," he confessed with a self-deprecating smile. "Let alone the Phoenix King himself. Along with his lovely Consort," he added, inclining his head at me.

  "And we've never shopped at a dragon's store," I replied, smiling back. "We appreciate the service."

  "We do," Sven agreed. "Perhaps we'll come here again next time we visit. You certainly have an interesting collection here...I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

  "Micah," the man provided readily, with a slight smile. "How rude of me. And I'd be honored to have you back any time." He gave us a little bow.

  We left the place a little lighter in the wallet, but the interaction had given me more than the pretty dagger. It gave me renewed hope for future relations between phoenixes and dragons. If we could be civil and friendly on an individual basis, it gave me hope. And with so much to worry about, it was nice to have a little hope as well.

  To break down those barriers, we'd have to find a way for more one-on-one interactions to happen between our people and the dragons. I made a mental note of it. I didn't have a concrete plan on how to accomplish that, but I was sure we could think of something when we had a moment.

  Sven took my hand in his as we walked down the sidewalk, his palm sure and steady against mine.

  "Thanks for the gift," I murmured, raising o
ur interlaced hands to kiss the back of his.

  He grinned. "You're welcome. And thank you for mine. I wonder if this is what kept men feel like," he pondered out loud.

  I chuckled, leaning against his arm. "If you were my kept man, you'd have to obey all of my orders."

  He raised his eyebrows, looking intrigued. "That doesn't sound so bad."

  My chuckle turned into laughter. And, for that moment, I felt just like a normal woman enjoying a day out with her man. I was glad he'd pushed me to do this. We'd really needed the normalcy of it.

  Hands interlocked, we wandered the city some more, enjoying the cafes, the architecture, the people watching. The people watched us right back, but that was okay. Nobody was rude about it. It was difficult to miss Sven with his head of bright blond hair, let alone the distinctly copper sheen to our skin when the sun hit it, contrasting with the dragons' gold reflect. Nobody bothered us, and our guards stayed at a large enough distance that I could pretend we were alone.

  I didn't want the day to end.

  But finally, after I felt nice and tired from the long hours of walking, we turned back towards Ashur's building. Mia had invited us to have dinner with them on the rooftop at what turned out to be the perfect time—I was starving.

  When we walked back into the entryway of the tall building, I was struck by the grandeur of it all over again. From the grand staircase to the chandeliers, it was just as impressive as the palace, but in a more modern way. I appreciated that about it, just as I appreciated the history of the palace.