“The Sentinel Brotherhood has jurisdiction over the Consilium so Alaric, that’s all you,” Conley said.
“We can certainly try. If we find him, there’s not much else we can do but interview him and hope he cooperates.”
“Call me when you find him, I can teleport him back here,” Dre’Kariston demanded.
“Is that a good idea?” his mate, Somerly asked.
“No, and I’m not bringing the Grand Summoner to the Consilium. This could be a trap for all we know,” Alaric countered.
“There’s a chance the creator of the potion may be able to give us some clue where to start to reverse this,” Renny argued.
“What if we made a D’Vaire stone? Only instead of healing, we tied a single teleportation spell with a predetermined location embedded in it? Perhaps to the Sentinel Brotherhood Headquarters?” Idris suggested.
“Brilliant idea, you and I can work on that,” Dra’Kaedan said. “Everyone else can focus on stopping the spell conversion. Let’s get to work. I want Wesley’s head on a pike if he’s responsible for this.”
“My vote is still to rip his heart out,” Chander growled.
“That’s not exactly the way humane executions work,” Drystan countered.
“How humane would you be feeling if it was your mate trapped in his gorgeous golden dragon? For an eternity you get to gaze upon his beast, but you can’t touch him. You can’t even talk to him. In your life he’d be nothing more than a specter. We aren’t merely trying to save His Majesty, one of the Emperors of our Council. Each one of us is fighting to save a matebond.”
Conley pulled Chander into a quick hug. “That’s one hell of a pep talk. Let’s get to work, everybody.”
Alaric grabbed Chander and tongued him thoroughly. It allowed Chander to fully wrestle his demon into what passed as submission.
“I love you,” Chander murmured once his lips were free.
He got a wink and grin from his other half. “Love you too.”
“We’re going to go talk to Their Majesties. Thank you for reminding us what’s at stake, Chand.” Drystan walked to the door, then looked back. “I’m still not going to let you rip out anyone’s heart, though.”
“Fucking overly noble-ass fallen knights,” Chander griped.
“That’s hilarious coming from their creator,” Dra’Kaedan quipped as he too headed for the door.
“Obviously my resurrection spell needs some work.” As Chander said good-bye to Alaric, Conley’s laughter filtered in from the hallway. The Reverent Knight apparently didn’t agree.
Chapter 18
Wesley wasn’t sure what was going on, but he refused to allow himself to get nervous. He was working hard, as he always did, when he got a call from Damian telling him Chrysander wished to speak to him. His Majesty was headed up to the office directly from Council session and Wesley didn’t mind postponing his lunch to accommodate him, but he couldn’t figure out what was so important that Chrysander would disrupt his tight schedule. After all, he figured the dragon would have teleported to D’Vaire to fawn over the stupid elf stuck in his beast.
It was difficult for Wesley to understand why Chrysander wasn’t over Ellery yet. The man was chosen by Fate to rule the dragons and had taken ownership of the Council; it was time for him to stop mooning like a boy over Ellery. The elf was never coming back, no matter how hard Sorcery D’Vaire worked, and Wesley was grateful. Though he detested the irritating wizard who’d created the potion, the man had done an impeccable job.
When a frowning Imperial Duke stalked through the doors of the office, he was immediately followed by an almost savage-looking emperor. His carriage was noble, his crown shining brightly, but his black eyes were livid. Not even the puffy bags under them took away from the fury on Chrysander’s face.
Behind him, Royal Duke Costas was wearing an angry expression as well. Wesley wasn’t sure why they were so incensed, but he would be lying if he said there wasn’t fear in his heart. Quickly he reminded himself—if they knew anything about what he’d done, it would be the Lich Sentinel along with the Reverent Knights marching in instead of these ferocious dragons, which calmed him down.
“I need to speak with you,” Chrysander stated.
“I’ll follow you into your office.” Wesley popped out of his chair and gathered a notebook along with a pen in case he needed to take notes.
Normally Chrysander would remove his crown the minute he was in the privacy of his workspace, but he left it on. Instead of sitting behind his desk, he leaned against the front of it and waved Wesley into one of the guest seats. Wesley asked no questions and promptly sat but was a bit perturbed by Costas and Damian standing just behind him. He didn’t appreciate the feeling of being caged, though he was smart enough to keep that thought to himself.
“You’ve worked for me a long time, Wesley.”
“I have, and I can’t imagine working anywhere else. I love my job and I truly believe I was called to do my job by Fate herself.”
“I believe we’ve developed a good relationship over the centuries, haven’t we?”
