Of Heart and Wings: The Dragon King Series, #1

By Debbie McQueen

Raiden is the firstborn son and heir to the throne. When his father is injured, the weight of the crown is heavier than ever. At seventeen years old, Raiden isn't sure he can live up to the king's legacy.

 

Egan is a dragon who appears human. He works for his family as a blacksmith. The secret he must protect keeps him from getting close to anyone.

 

After a chance encounter, Raiden discovers Egan's secret. They form a friendship forged by trust, it soon blossoms into something neither of them expected. The strength they find in each other may just help them rise up to meet their destinies.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Debbie McQueen
• Release date: Oct 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393974314

Debbie McQueen

Debbie McQueen has been married to her loving and supportive husband for eighteen years. They have two amazing kids that share her love of musicals, singing, fairies, dragons, and superheroes. Debbie is an avid reader and loves to read YA/NA, PNR, Urban Fantasy, Thrillers, LGBTQ stories, and more. Debbie is an affirming Christian who is proud to continue learning and serving as an LGBTQ+ ally and advocate. She has learned more about God’s love through the beauty of a diverse creation and strives to support her friends and loved ones, as well as the broader LGBTQ+ community. She proudly gives out Free Hugs at Pride events, and also works with a service organization that helps support LGBTQ youth in Southern California.

Book preview

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Prologue

Raiden

The realms were born of fire and blood. Centuries ago, with no ruler to lead them, tribes and villages were at constant war with each other. The people were sheep, herded around without any control, led to the slaughter by the wolves whose hunger was only satiated by blood and land.

Peace was a myth, spoken of only by prophets. Fear was the hand that beat the people into resignation and cast out all hope for change. The prophets were all but ignored. The hope they offered was poisoned by the world they knew.

Legends told of a young warrior who bravely fought and protected his tribe. His village had nearly been overrun but he forced the hordes back, saving not only his family but all those who shared their village. Word quickly spread to the surrounding villages that the warrior, Daigre, controlled a great beast. Stories continued that Daigre, with the aid of a powerful dragon, led a brave team and defeated the warmongers. His name and reputation quickly spread throughout the lands.

With the cruel bloodlust and greed cleansed from the lands, Daigre called for unity. The people who had been living under fear’s oppressive thumb suddenly felt a spark of something they hadn’t dared to feel. Hope grew and Daigre’s name was praised.

The people named him Dragon King; King Daigre was greatly revered and respected as he led the people justly.

As Daigre grew older in years, he feared the newly formed kingdom would fall into instability following his death. He worried that his children would fight amongst each other for the throne. His final decree had been to split the kingdom of Daigria into seven realms, one throne for each of his sons.

Over time, the realms became more independent of each other; the kingdom divided. A prophecy was given that one day a dragon king would rise again, uniting the realms into one kingdom as King Daigre had ruled. Centuries passed since King Daigre ruled the land, the prophecy long since forgotten.

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one

Raiden

Iwas not ready to be king. As the first-born son of Rodick, King of the Sixth Realm, it would fall to me to take his place if anything happened to my father. For all of my seventeen years, I have been training and preparing for the responsibility of the crown. I just thought I would have a lot more time before I was supposed to take the throne: it was too soon.

My father had suffered a grave wound from King Tarjak of the Fifth Realm. Tarjak was a greedy leader who ruled his people with fear. He had been after seizing the land of the Sixth for as long as I could remember. Our land was abundant and fertile, rich with rivers, forests, and good soil for farmland. Tarjak’s land had been poisoned by his tyranny. The people were over-taxed to line the storerooms of the wealthy, while the rest struggled to eat. It was a realm that profited on the blood and sweat of the poor so that the richest among them could live in luxury.

My father abhorred the leaders of the Fifth, especially King Tarjak. They stood against everything my father strove to be as he was a firm but compassionate leader. Yes, we still had people of all standings within the Sixth and taxes were a necessary part of running a realm. He understood that people with lower earnings needed to keep more of their wages to live decently than those who were wealthier; all our people were taxed accordingly.

He also saw humanity in all people no matter their position. My father told me that even beggars should be treated with compassion and dignity. He said sometimes they were in their position because of a series of bad choices they made but sometimes they had merely been dealt a terrible hand. Sometimes bad things happened to people and they didn’t have the tools they needed to help themselves out of it. I remembered asking him when I was younger, and a little more full of myself, that if they had done it to themselves; why should we care what happened to them? My father reprimanded me harshly, he had never been so angry with me. He told me that the way we treat others has less to do with their character and more to do with our own.

My father knew that he couldn’t interfere with the laws of the Fifth unless he had permission from the Council of the Realms; which was made up of the seven kings and queens. Tarjak had a few friends among the Council, ones that he had been plying generously with gold, jewels, and various other gifts; ensuring he would have their support.

Knowing he couldn’t take bigger action to help the starving people of the Sixth, he had offered to make a deal with Tarjak for a small parcel of farmland within their border. It would be worked by people from our land, providing food to the neediest in Tarjak’s land, but Tarjak would not be able to collect taxes from it. The farmers working the land would be able to keep enough to support their own families, but everything else would go to the people of the Sixth Realm. Essentially, he was offering to help provide food and resources, but barring Tarjak from being able to gain from it, even though it was on his land.

My father remained firm in his demands, even as Tarjak rebutted with varying amounts of payments or taxes he would collect from the land. Instead, my father amended it to include a promise of safety for those that would work the land. Tarjak’s messages to my father were increasingly irate, his disdain for King Rodick dripped off of the letters. The king of the Fifth was too hard-headed and stubborn to accept help. He would not let himself appear weak or needy in front of anyone, but especially Rodick. Even still, Father was surprised, though suspicious, when the last message he received completely reversed direction. Tarjak accepted his offer for a truce, so they could meet and discuss the deal in person.

I attended the meeting at my father’s request. He told me I needed to learn how to conduct myself in a negotiation. Everyone was cautious and alert. I could see the tension in my father’s shoulders and the way he stood. He had warned me ahead of time that even though a truce had been called, one should never let their guard down.

My father and Tarjak sat across the table facing each other. I stood at my father’s left side. A scroll of parchment was rolled out onto the table between them. I watched how my father seemed to track Tarjak’s every move as the details of the deal were being read aloud. As soon as Tarjak hit his fist on the table, Father had drawn his sword. It all happened so fast. The table was knocked down towards Tarjak as a loud burst sounded and glass had blown in from the window.

Suddenly, I was thrown to the ground, my body covered by one of my king’s guards. Noise erupted all around me. I tried to push up and draw my sword but the guard would not let up. I felt myself being pushed and dragged toward the door. Through the arms that entangled me, I saw another guard dragging Father’s limp body.

The clang of swords and grunts of fighting filled the room. I fought with all my strength to get to my father but the guards held me back.

I can help, let me fight! I struggled to get free.

No! I’m sorry, my lord. It is my duty to see you safe. You are to be protected at all costs, Prince Raiden, especially now with the king compromised. I heard the unsaid meaning; especially if my father was dead.

We made it out the door and into the stairwell; the door pulled closed behind us and barricaded. The guard loosened his grip on me and I shoved away, pushing harder than was necessary, and ran to my father. He was pale and his coat was soaked with blood. I nudged one of the guards supporting him out of the way, placing my shoulder under my father’s arm, and gripping him around his waist.

I leaned in and whispered in his ear, Father, can you hear me? It’s Raiden, I’m here with you. We’ll get you tended to. You’re going to be okay, Father. I paused and took a breath, fighting back the tears that tried to break free. You HAVE to be okay.

I straightened, bearing my father’s weight, and bit out an order to one of the guards, Send word ahead for the best medics to meet us immediately! One took off ahead as we all started moving together. I moved with the guard who stood on my father's other side, supporting him; the rest of the guards took up formation around us.

I had heard that Tarjak had been developing weapons. So far, all the reports that came back showed they weren’t fully operational. I didn’t know what had been used against my father, but it had been shot through the window and left a gaping wound in his chest. We were lucky to have gotten out of there without further incident. Either the weapon only had one shot, or it had malfunctioned after the first one. The Sixth’s guardsmen were highly trained warriors with keen instincts and had been able to act swiftly to fight back to get us out relatively safely.

The medics were ready and waiting at the doors of the castle. I tried not to think too much as I helped carry my father’s listless body into the nearest bedroom. Medics were shouting orders for hot water and clean towels and went to work quickly. I winced as my father’s ceremonial clothes were cut right down the middle and his bloodied chest laid bare.

My eyes blurred at the frenzy of movement. I tried to watch my father’s chest to see if it was rising and falling, but I simply couldn’t focus. I stepped back to get out of everyone’s way. I vaguely heard someone speaking to me, something about calming my nerves. A cup was placed in my hand and I drank it without thinking. A sharp, bitter liquid slid down my throat. I stared into the cup unable to determine its contents. Everything was in a haze.

I felt an arm reach over my shoulders and gently guide me around and out the door. I was lightly pushed down into a chair in the hallway. A body knelt in front of me so that a face lined up in my vision.

He’s going to be okay, my lord. We have the best in the land working on him. They said it missed his heart. That’s a blessing. King Rodick is strong, not only in body but in spirit and mind as well. If anyone could pull through this, it’s him.

I nodded and muttered my thanks, completely unaware of who had been speaking to me. My head fell forward and my eyes closed. I prayed to God. I hadn’t done that since I was a child, but the pleading words came flowing through me without any thought.

I had no concept of how long I sat there. Time had ceased. Had it been minutes, had it been years? A hand fell on my shoulder, squeezing gently.

The king is resting, his wound has been closed and looks good. The medics are hopeful. You may come in and see him if you wish.

I shook my head to clear the fogginess and pushed more strength into my words than I felt. Yes, of course. Thank you. I stood, straightened my shirt, and walked back in. Father lay on the bed, covered with blankets, and appeared to merely be sleeping. His eyes, though, were pinched tight as if in pain. I sat in the chair that had been placed at his bedside. I lifted the blanket to see his chest. It had been cleaned of all the blood and a bandage was wrapped around his chest and over his left shoulder. I replaced the covers, tucking him in.

What is your report? I asked, a little more sharply than I intended, of the female medic that remained in the room. I inhaled deeply and let it out, speaking more softly than before, What do you expect of his recovery? Do you think he’ll make it? Is he in a lot of pain?

The medic had a youthful appearance, she looked to be only a few years older than me. She was small in stature, with short cropped blond hair. She responded in a calm voice that spoke to her skill and experience, despite her young age. You and your father’s men did very well bringing him in promptly. He lost a good deal of blood, but we were able to get in there and stop the bleeding. We managed to dig out the projectile that hit him and closed the wound up nicely. We gave him something to aid with the pain though he may likely still feel some. Now, sleep is the best medicine for him while his body recovers. One of us will be with him at all times, ready to tend to him.

Thank you for everything you have done. Can you give us a moment please?

The medic bowed her head, Of course, my lord. I shall be right outside if you need me. While my eyes stayed locked on my father, I felt the medic’s presence move out of the room. I dropped my head next to my father's. My forehead rested on the edge of the pillow, my long dark hair forming a curtain around my face.

The pillow dampened from the tears that escaped as I listened to my father breathe. It seemed as though each breath was a struggle, his body shuddering as his chest moved up and down. The medics say you are going to be fine. Please let them be right. The words poured out, barely a whisper. You can’t leave me, Father. You can’t leave Kairn. He’s too young to be without a father. Your people need you, we need you.

I lifted my head, scrubbing my hands over my face. I reached for my father’s hand and grasped it. I felt him squeeze my fingers and saw his eyes flutter, as though trying to open. It was enough to sense his strength and will to recover. I blew out a deep breath that had been stuck in my throat. I kissed my father’s cheek and rose, composing myself once more.

Don’t try to wake, you need to rest. I am alright, and I’ll make sure Kairn is too. You don’t need to worry about us, just get yourself better.

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two

Raiden

Isighed with relief as I walked out of the room. I knew in my heart that Father was strong enough to overcome his injuries. I figured it was time to find Kairn and update him. My brother was five years younger than me. He had not yet begun his training with the guard, still caught up in childhood games. At times, I almost envied my brother for that age of innocence. I had had so little time to simply be a child. My training had begun much earlier. As the firstborn of the royal family, I was expected to be trained as a leader. By the age of twelve, same as Kairn was now, I had already been proficient in the ways of the sword, the bow, and even hand-to-hand fighting.

I didn’t know if the news of our father had traveled through the castle yet. We had snuck him in through the back gate to avoid the possible on-lookers. Not having known what his condition was, we didn’t want word to spread before it was known what that news would be. I needed to get to Kairn and tell him before he heard it from anyone else.

I walked through the halls, acknowledging those that bowed or lowered their heads as I passed by. I held my head high and walked with purpose, as I was taught to do. I kept my eyes and ears open, observing how people were reacting, to see if they gave any hint of sympathy or concern, anything to indicate that they knew what had happened. So far, everyone appeared to be acting as they normally would.

I made my way out to the courtyard, where the young boys were often found playing. At the sound of a yell, I swung my head sharply to the left. My hand was already on the handle of my dagger, ready to draw. A ball flew across my vision and a boy was hit squarely in the back with it. Immediately, I relaxed as the side of my mouth pulled up. I ran in a crouch towards the fallen boy, his eyes widening when I drew near him. I put a finger in front of my mouth and winked at the boy. Grabbing the ball, I ducked behind a nearby cart. I snuck around the side and spotted another boy creeping around the statue of my grandfather. He was going in the direction of the boy that had been hit, likely to retrieve the ball. I pulled my arm back, took aim, and released the ball, catching the boy right between his shoulder blades. He went down with a howl.

Hey, no fair! Who threw that? You’re not supposed to get your own team! The blonde-haired boy stood back up, hands on his hips, looking around to see who had thrown the ball. I straightened from behind the cart, wiped my hands on my pants, and walked out from my hiding spot laughing.

You know, you really should be aware of everything around you, not just what’s in front of you. The boy froze when he saw me coming towards him. He bowed his head.

I’ll do better next time. The words mumbled out in a hushed tone.

I bent down, grabbed the ball, and put it in the boy’s hand. See that you do, I chuckled. Now, tell me where I can find my brother and you can go back to your game. The boy looked up at me again, and relaxed his stance, relieved at the amusement on my face.

He’s on marksman duty, up there. He pointed up to the battlement wall that surrounded the castle. I followed the direction the boy pointed and saw a glimpse of black hair, like my own, sticking up over the top of the wall. My grin widened and I took off toward the side of the battlement. I ran to the far side and scaled the wall, quickly and stealthily. I pulled myself up and over the side of the wall, landing quietly on the balls of my feet, absorbing the impact in a crouch. I saw my brother stooped down, his head barely above the short wall. He had a ball loaded in his hand, ready to launch at some unsuspecting boy below. I darted towards him, crashing into my brother, and wrestled him to the ground. I pinned his hands behind him and sat on his chest.

Get off me, you brute! Kairn wriggled and bucked beneath me. I was just about to get Rafel, he was in my sight! I snickered and climbed off him. It felt really good to let go of the weight of the day, even just for a moment, and have a little fun. Kairn scowled at me. Suddenly, the reason that I came to find my brother rushed back to me. The smile I had just seconds before fell.

Brother, I...I need to tell you something. I pushed my hand through my hair and swept my eyes around. "Listen, Kairn, let’s go somewhere else to