Crux

Chapter 2

2

Prince Crux grinned at his brothers, Saber and Ranger, and beckoned them forward with the claws on his hand. His armor was up and fire raged inside of him, ready to burst free.

He wouldn't use it, of course. Calling on fire during a sparring match was bad form and he'd never hear the end of it.

No, he was going to beat his brothers fair and square.

Saber and Ranger were equally distant from him, and both were breathing hard. The fight had been going on for nearly half an hour, and they all knew Crux was winning. He always did.

And his brothers weren't about to change that.

He tipped his head back and laughed with the joy of the fight. Battle called to him, and he wanted to charge.

If he was in his other form, he would bat his wings and soar, raining fire down on his enemies and clashing in the sky with whoever opposed him.

But Saber and Ranger weren't defeated yet. Crux was too busy laughing to see his brothers exchange a look or read the plan that formed silently between them. The two of them charged, and Crux had to dart away to avoid being taken down to the dirt.

It was on.

And now he felt the challenge.

Working together, Saber and Ranger were an actual threat, and as the minutes ticked by, Crux began to worry his winning streak might be coming to an end. His face was smudged with dirt from a lucky hit, and his muscles were starting to cry out from heavy use.

He wanted more.

But before he could make a counter move and show his brothers exactly where they stood, a gong sounded, calling the sparring session to an end. Ranger skidded, colliding into Crux, and they both tumbled to the ground.

Saber punched a hand in the air. "I'm victorious. Last dragon standing."

"The stars deceive you, brother." Crux and Ranger got to their feet, and judging by the look Ranger was shooting him, the two of them were ready to team up against Saber.

Last dragon standing. Ha!

A servant stood beside the gong, holding onto the mallet, a worried look on his face, as if he wasn't sure he should strike it again.

Crux checked the time. "Our session is not scheduled to end for another turn of the dial, Yotar. What is it?" He wanted to fight more, but Yotar wouldn't stop them for something trivial.

"The king has requested your presence, my prince," Yotar said with a slight bow. "He instructs me to inform you that the younger princes are welcome to continue to train."

Crux didn't like the sound of that, and his first instinct was to let Yotar know it. But Yotar was a servant and merely the messenger. Crux leashed his anger and let his form bleed away so that he was fully a man. In peace time, it could be seen as an act of aggression to approach the king in warrior form. And he didn't want his father to think that he was scheming to take the throne early.

No. Crux was more than happy to leave his father to rule while he lived his own happy life.

"I shall attend him once I've showered off this muck," he said, gesturing to his face.

Yotar's lips flattened into a thin line of disapproval. No doubt the king wanted to see Crux immediately.

There was no winning. If Crux didn't wash, his father would censure him for being dirty. If he did, he'd be censured for making the king wait. So rather than take a relaxing dip in the royal baths, Crux wiped himself off quickly and splashed scented water on his hair to cover most of the scent of sweat.

It would have to do.

Not ten minutes later, he was presenting himself in the throne room and its empty throne. Still, Crux bowed. Who knew if his father was watching?

A side door opened, and his father stepped out as Crux stood. He beckoned Crux over to his private office, and once Crux was inside, closed the door behind him.

So it was to be a private upbraiding. Crux tried to think of what he'd done wrong recently, but nothing came to mind. Well, there had been the prank with the water bucket over Saber's door, but that was nothing.

"Sit," commanded King Venin as he took a seat behind his giant desk. This was where most of his work actually happened. Here and at the desks of the countless clerks and advisors who made the kingdom function.

Crux sat. He kept quiet, waiting for his father to name his grievance.

He didn't. "You were sparring with your brothers."

"Training comes along well," Crux confirmed. "They will honor the army one day as true dragon warriors."

King Venin nodded in agreement. "That is not why I wanted to speak with you."

Of course not. But Crux wasn't stupid enough to say that out loud. "Is that so?"

The king steepled his fingers in front of him while resting his elbows on the desk. "You've stalled for long enough. It's time you took a mate. I'm sick of having two sons who refuse to do their duty. At least your youngest brother has taken my advice on the matter."

Crux had known this was coming. His thirtieth birthday had just passed. His father had sired all three of his sons by the time he was Crux's age. It didn't make Crux any more eager to find a mate for himself. "Have you chosen a woman for me?" It had always been a possibility. Crux was the crown prince and his father's heir. Choosing his own mate was not necessarily his right.

Surprisingly, his father shook his head. "This is your final chance. You have until the next full moon to present your desired mate to me for my approval." He stared at Crux for a moment, daring him to make a challenge.

His father no doubt wanted the challenge. If Crux complained, his father would rip the condition away and present Crux with someone who would make the aristocracy happy.

Someone Crux couldn't stand.

It wasn't that there was anything wrong with the ladies of the kingdom. It was that Crux was a warrior and had nothing in common with them. And the ladies who fought in the army were not the kind of ladies his father would approve of.

Crux didn't argue. He could feel his choices beginning to slip through his fingers, but he refused to ruin his chance so early. There had to be at least one lady out there who he could stand to mate with.

Perhaps his fated mate.

He couldn't let the hope show on his face. It was the kind of fancy his father would scoff at.

"Be gone," his father finally said. "I am busy."

Crux left. He headed back towards the training grounds, and his brothers attempted to summon him back for another match. Crux considered it for a moment before turning abruptly and heading out of the palace and down into Dragon City.

He thought of every lady he knew, and he knew many, but none of them had managed to spark his interest. They all knew he was a prince and what mating with him would mean. He'd never felt like so much meat as when he attended parties with scheming ladies intent on the Dragon Crown.

That was the problem of his position. No one wanted him for him. They wanted his rank or his coin or his favor.

But there had to be someone.

The streets weren't too crowded as he walked. Dragon City was not the largest settlement in the kingdom, despite the castle. Or perhaps because of it. The king's guard liked to make sure the city was safe for the royals who lived there and could make things… uncomfortable at times for the residents of the city. But it was why Crux was safe enough walking alone and no one gave him a second look.

He didn't know what made him stop. He was on a market street full of shops. Some sold weapons. Others entertainment devices. And if his nose did not deceive him, he was near food stalls of some kind.

But that wasn't what caught his attention.

He read the sign on the window: Royal Matchmaker.

He could question the validity of the claim. As far as he knew, his father and brothers had never approached a matchmaker in their lives. There were other ways to find mates.

But Crux had heard of this matchmaker. It was said she wasn't just good, she was unnaturally good. A psychic.

If he had a fated mate out there, perhaps she could point him towards her.

It was crazy. Crux was a prince, he didn't need a matchmaker.

But he only had until the next full moon to make the choice on his own. And a true leader knew when it was time to ask for help.

He looked at the door for several long seconds and almost continued down the street. It was madness to even consider it.

But his father had driven him to madness, and he was running out of choices.

Crux reached for the door, ready to greet his fate.