The Last Dragon King, page 1

LEIA STONE is the USA Today bestselling author of multiple series. She’s sold over three million books and her Fallen Academy series has been optioned for film; her novels have been translated into five languages and she even dabbles in script writing. She lives in Spokane, Washington with her husband and two children.
Copyright
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
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London SE1 9GF
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HarperCollinsPublishers
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Dublin 1, D01 C9W8, Ireland
This edition 2023
1
First published in Great Britain by Leia Stone LLC 2022
Copyright © Leia Stone
Leia Stone asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © April 2023 ISBN: 9780008638528
Version 2023-04-03
TRIGGER WARNING
Infant loss/still birth is spoken of but not shown or described in detail. The dragon king has lost children in the past and it affects his character deeply.
Contents
Cover
About the Author
Title Page
Copyright
Trigger Warning
Map
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
The Broken Elf King (Chapter One)
Acknowledgments
About the Publisher
ONE
I hauled my kill over my shoulder and grunted under the weight of it. The cougarin had been a full-grown adult male and was my largest kill to date. He would bring enough meat to feed my mother and little sister for at least two moons, as well as give us something to trade at the market. Winter wasn’t for a while but I wanted to get new furs for both my mother and Adaline.
Stalking the beast over the last week had proved fruitful and I couldn’t help the lopsided grin that drew the corners of my mouth up as I walked into my hometown of Cinder Village.
Being at the base of Cinder Mountain, and the coal mines inside of it, meant that the fine dust from the mountain coated everything in the village, and today was no exception. The rocks that dotted the village road held a thick layer of ash, as did the tips of my hunting boots. I barely noticed anymore; you just got used to it when you lived here. It was in our ears, nose, teeth, and other places not spoken of.
In Jade City, the capital of Embergate, you could spot a Cinder Village resident from a mile away. We puffed dust with each step and we were damn well proud of it. The people of Cinder were a hardworking people. We didn’t sit on our butts all day.
“Nice kill, Arwen,” Nathanial called from his post at the top of the guard gate entrance to Cinder Village. Nathanial was one of the most handsome guys in Cinder Village. Sandy-blond hair, hazel eyes, and a sharp jaw… just looking up at him now made my stomach warm.
I gave him a goofy grin. “Come for dinner later? Bring your parents.”
He nodded, pursing his lips. “Would love that.”
We were twenty winters out from the Great Famine but my parents remembered such a time and trained us younger ones on how to hunt and grow food, and to skin and prepare a kill. Usually it was the men doing the hunting and the women doing the growing, but with my father dead, I didn’t have that luxury. They also taught us to show kindness and give a meal when you had plenty. Times were a boon now, and this cougarin was much more than we needed.
The weight of the animal was starting to cause a sharp pain between my shoulders, its blood dripping down the front of my shirt from the arrow wound in its neck. I couldn’t wait to drop this off to my mother and then wash up.
I passed the market stalls, giving nods to the men and women working them, and marveled at the pretty garlands of flowers that had been hung up around the village for May Day. I’d worried that I wasn’t going to make it back for the beloved festival of love. I’d made my kill just in time, and if I washed up quickly I might even be able to join the kissing tent.
Pushing my legs faster, I turned the corner to the row my mother’s hut was on. We were a simple people who lived a simple life. Thatched huts, fresh river water, potato fields, and coal mining—that was Cinder Village. The ash from the coal mine made the soil fertile and so we were known for our large potatoes and sweet tubers.
I once visited our capital, Jade City, when I was fifteen winters old and my jaw had unhinged the entire three-day trip. It was the most beautiful city in all of Embergate, which is why our king lived there and all of the kings before him. Jade City was full of such opulence and splendor that had I not seen it with my own eyes, I would not have believed it. More jade, gold, and ruby than I’d ever seen in all my life. The roads were all brick, the buildings white stone, the city lit up at night like a jewel. The mead was flowing, the food stalls were stocked, and the streets were full of dragon-folk.
I had never been around so many powerful dragon-folk in my entire life, but Jade City had been crawling with them. The dragon-folk were linked to their king, Drae Valdren. He gave them power through himself, and so it made sense they wanted to live near him. Dragon-folk with enough magic had the power to heal, to breathe fire; they had extreme strength. But fully shifting into a dragon’s form, that was for the king alone—the most powerful dragon-folk to ever live.
Here in Cinder Village we were a bit of an anomaly. Technically, we were in Embergate territory and ruled by the dragon king, but we were mostly a mixed bunch. Humans, dragon-folk, elves, fae—even a few stray wolven ended up here. Anyone who was of mixed race or of diluted magic was usually outcasted from their territory and wound up here, making a colony of sorts. A mixed breed society. My mom was fully human. Her parents defected from Nightfall City when she was little, and my dad was a mix of human and one-tenth dragon-folk. It wasn’t enough to have any cool fire powers, but he was able to lift large rocks in the mines and provide a good life for my mom and me. Until he died when I was nine…
“Bless the Maker, look at that kill!” my mom shrieked from the doorway of our hut, and it pulled me from my thoughts about my father. Every muscle in my body hurt. I was tired, I stunk, and I was covered in blood, but seeing my mom so happy caused me to grin goofily at her.
“We’ll need to take out the waistband of my trousers by next week,” I joked. My little sister Adaline popped her head out from the doorway as her eyes grew as wide as saucers.
“Cougarin stew for dinner!” she shrieked in joy.
That got a chuckle out of me. The baked potatoes and greens were filling, but nothing like Mama’s cougarin stew.
I stepped inside our home, shuffled across the freshly swept floor, and passed the kitchen which led to the back porch. Mother already had the butcher table and knives out. She knew I wouldn’t come home empty-handed, and her faith in me made me proud.
After slamming the beast down on the table, I groaned, rolling out my neck.
“You did good, Arwen.” My mom smoothed my hair and then wrinkled her nose. “But you smell like death.”
Adaline broke out into a full-on belly laugh and I sprang from where I stood and ran after her with my arms out like a bloodsucker from Necromere.
She gave a genuine shriek of terror. Now it was my turn to burst into laughter.
“Alright, don’t scare your sister. Go and wash up, it’s May Day!” my mother scolded me.
May Day.
I sighed. All the single girls and single boys of age would stand in the village square blindfolded and then start walking towards each other. Whoever you reached first, you kissed.
It was a long-held tradition of Cinder Village, and as terrifying as it sounded it was kind of thrilling as well. Legend said whoever you kissed on May Day would become your spouse. At eighteen winters old, this would be my first May Day. I was eligible last year but had been sicker than a dog from eating some bad berries, so I was unable to attend.
I reached up and touched my lips, wondering if Nathanial would kiss me—you weren’t supposed to peek, but some of the boys let their blindfolds slip so that they could gravitate towards the girl they wanted.
I wanted Nathanial.
I slipped into the bed room I shared with Adaline and grabbed a clean tunic and trousers. My mother had long since given up trying to get me to wear skirts and dresses. Ever since my father died nine winters ago, I’d had to become the hunter of the family, and hunting in a dress was just downright stupid.
Adaline was hiding under her bed furs, probably afraid I’d rub cougarin blood on her. I walked towards her and hovered over her. After a moment, thinking I was gone, she slowly pulled down the covers, but when she saw me she screamed again, yanking the furs back up. I burst out in delighted laughter.
“Arwen!” my mother snapped.
“Fine,” I groaned, the laughter dying in my throat.
Sometimes I just wanted to mess around with my little sister, but my position in this family required me to grow up faster than I would have liked had I been given a choice. We had a roof over our heads and food in our bellies, so I knew better than to complain.
“Oh,” I called back to my mom as I was walking out to the community bathhouse. “I invited Nathanial for dinner,” I said casually.
A dinner invite on May Day was no small thing.
The corners of my mother’s lips quirked up into a conspiratorial grin.
“To be nice! To share the bounty,” I told her, heat creeping up to my cheeks. It was customary after a good hunt to invite a guest to the feast. Good luck even. She knew that. But it was also encouraged to invite potential suitors over for dinner on May Day so that the families could meet and start getting used to the idea of a potential marriage.
“Of course, dear,” she said in a sugary sweet tone, and I scowled at her. I was eighteen winters old. I’d be expected to take a husband soon. Nathanial would be a good choice. He had a prominent job in the village, and he was one of the only boys in town who didn’t seem threatened by my hunting trips with the other men in the village. Even when I married off, I’d still have to provide for Adaline and my mother. He understood that.
Brushing my mother’s weird smile out of my mind, I headed down the alley between Mr. Korban’s apothecary shop and Mrs. Holina’s bakery, and stepped into Naomie’s bathhouse.
“Oh, child!” Naomie plugged her nose when I strode inside. “You smell like a dead ratin! You’ll need your own soaker tub with extra sandalwood oil.”
I grinned.
Naomie was like the village grandmother—with a sharp tongue. She took care of us all and hit us with the truth no matter how much it would hurt. For daily washings I would just use the heated bucket of water in our hut, but for washing after a week of hunting I needed Naomie’s soaker tub and soap stone.
I followed her into the women’s washroom and past the group soakers, nodding to the women I recognized. Mrs. Beezle and Mrs. Haney were currently enthralled in the town gossip. I caught a snippet of Bardic needing to cut down on his drinking, and Mrs. Namal needing to tend to her husband so his eye didn’t wander. The top layer of their bathwater was black from cinder soot.
When Naomie stepped into one of the private soaker rooms, cordoned off by a thatch wall, I set my clean clothes down on the stool beside the small one-person soaker tub. Cinder soot and dirt was okay for a group soaker, but blood and hunting guts were not permitted.
Naomie was at least sixty winters old, her fingers gnarled from the winter bone disease. Her silver hair was always tied into a tight bun on top of her head. She spun the tap and the water gushed from the faucet, filling the tub as steam rose up to the ceiling. Naomie was one of the few people with running water in the village. Her shop was directly situated over a natural hot spring. Her great-great grandfather had been a metal worker, so he’d welded the pipes and built everything so that the water would be pulled up from the ground. Her family had owned this bathhouse for as long as anyone could remember.
“I’ve had to raise my prices,” Naomie said, looking at me with a bit of pity. “This war the Nightfall queen has started at the border is affecting my ability to get the soap stones and perfume oils from the elves in Archmere.”
I nodded. “How much?”
“Two jade coins or an acceptable barter,” she said.
Two jade coins? It used to be one. I’d heard a little about the Nightfall queen causing trouble with shipments coming into Embergate but hadn’t thought much about it. That evil woman was always starting wars.
I nodded. “I can give you the jade coins, or I just brought down a full-grown male cougarin. You can see my mom after closing to pick the best cut.”
Her eyes lit up. “I’ll take the meat instead, thanks kindly,” she said, and I nodded as she slipped out of the room.
Cougarin was gamey but delicious, with very little fat or gristle on it. Elkin was the only more desirable meat around, so I knew I could barter some good stuff with this kill. Maybe I’d get mother a nice new dress for the changing of the seasons festival in fall.
Stripping off my clothes, I let them drop into a dusty blood-crusted pile at my feet and then I stepped into the water.
A groan of pure joy and relief left me, and some of the ladies outside the thin thatch wall snickered. I didn’t care. It was too good. As I slid deeper into the water, I felt a few parts of my back sting. At one point in the hunt I’d tumbled and hit my back on a rock. There must be a scratch or two there.
The water continued to rush out of the tap as I daydreamed about having running hot water in our hut. I would take a soak every single night. I’d wash the clothes in hot water, and the dishes, and just for fun I’d stick my face in hot water in the mornings to revive myself.
I sighed in contentment.
“Coming in,” Naomie announced before she stepped into the small enclosure.
I didn’t bother to cover myself. Naomie had seen me naked hundreds of times. I’d been coming here since I was a babe with my mother. Besides, she didn’t look; she was a professional. She poured a stream of oil into the rushing water and the strong scent of sandalwood hit my nose.
Another sigh.
Cinder Mountain was known for its sandalwood grove trees, so the oil was plentiful here and the scent always reminded me of home.
A soap stone plopped into the water and slid under my back but I ignored it. I’d soap later, I just wanted to soak. Every muscle in my body was screaming out for joy right now.
“Got any cuts?” she asked.
Naomie tended to the men after they came in from a hunt, so she knew what the body sustained after such a trip.
I nodded and sat up, showing her my back.
She whistled low. “The bigger one looks infected. I’ll get the neem oil and add it to the bath. The cougarin meat is still a good trade.”
Neem was expensive, so it was kind of her not to charge extra or ask for more meat.
She disappeared and shuffled back in with the neem, pouring it into the bathwater as well. She then reached in and grabbed the soap stone as I sat up and hunched forward. She ran it along my back in the parts I couldn’t reach and I hissed when she lightly grazed it over the cut. Must have been bigger than I thought. I’d been so excited to kill my first cougarin that I’d lost all sense of pain and just wanted to make it back home.
After getting my back tortured by the old woman, she dropped the soap stone into the tub again and left.
Finally, I can relax.
I leaned back against the angled tub and slid as far down as I could go before drowning. My hair snaked out around me and I was shocked and slightly ashamed to see it looked brown and not blond because it was so dirty. The bathwater had a slight reddish tinge to it from all the blood, so I closed my eyes and just breathed in and out slowly, letting the scent of neem and sandalwood fill my nostrils.
Seven days of stalking the beast and sleeping on rocks and leaves was all worth it now. Gone were the days of hunting small game like rabbits and possums and being ridiculed by the males. I was a respected hunter now—Hades, the men might even let me join the hunters’ guild—
“The king’s men come this way!” a female voice shouted into the bathhouse and my eyelids snapped open, jarring me from my daydreaming.
The king’s men? Were they drafting for the war or something? Why else would they come here all the way from Jade City? Normally, we brought coal or sandalwood to them to trade; they never came to us. We were the dirty forgotten village of Embergate that the king tolerated but never visited or paid any mind to. There were no powerful dragon-folk here for him to draft into his army or be of any use. We were a bunch of mixed breed mutts.












