Title: The Dragon's Devotion
Series: Chronicles of Tournai,
Book Five
Author: Antonia Aquilante
Publisher: NineStar
Press
Release Date: September 4, 2017
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 108100
Genre: Fantasy, fantasy,
paranormal, shifters, dragons, magic users, bisexual, family drama,
abduction/kidnapping, political intrigue, royalty
Synopsis
Corentin is a scholar with a
secret—his magical Talent allows him to turn into a dragon, and he isn’t alone
in that ability. Long ago, dragons were hunted fiercely, until they went into
hiding, becoming things of legend. Corentin has traveled the world with one
aim—to protect his people and keep their secret safe. Drawn to the principality
of Tournai by news of someone close to discovering that secret, he hopes to
avert suspicion. His attraction to the too-serious Bastien isn’t convenient for
his purpose, but it isn’t something he can ignore either.
Lord Bastien, Earl of Ardesia, inherited his title unexpectedly
when his parents were killed in a sailing accident along with the parents of
his cousin, Prince Philip. Since then, Bastien has devoted his life to the
obligations of his family and estate—so much so, that it has caused tension
between him and his siblings. His world is further shaken when he receives an
anonymous letter informing him that the tragic boating accident may, in fact,
have been murder. Bastien throws himself into investigating whether the allegations
are true and finding out who killed his parents.As Corentin and Bastien become closer, the mystery of Bastien’s parents’ death draws him further into danger. Corentin feels compelled to protect Bastien, but the threat is closer than they know. Now, Corentin must decide whether preserving his secret—and potentially his people’s safety—is more important than saving the man he loves.
Excerpt
The
Dragon’s Devotion
Antonia
Aquilante © 2017
All
Rights Reserved
Chapter
One
In
the privacy of his small office, Corentin circled his neck and rolled his bare
shoulders and back, trying to loosen the stiffness there—impossible because his
muscles weren’t really stiff. But he did it anyway. It was just that he hadn’t
changed and stretched his wings in far too long. Whether real or imagined, it
had always been this way if he didn’t use his Talent regularly. Only how was he
to accomplish that in this place?
There
wasn’t anywhere in the capital city where he could change unseen, and few
places close to Jumelle where a large dragon would go unnoticed.
But
while he was in Tournai, he’d have to deal with it. He’d managed a few night
flights out over the sea when there wasn’t much moonlight. He’d have to get
away for another as soon as he could without rousing suspicion. Not that he was
being watched, or that anyone suspected what he was, but if a foreign scholar
slipped away too many times with no explanation and someone were to notice… He
didn’t want to take the risk. He’d come to the principality of Tournai to make
sure no one knew of dragons; he wasn’t going to risk anyone finding out from
him.
With
a sigh, he reached for a fresh shirt from the cabinet in the corner. It wasn’t
entirely appropriate for the university, but the more formal shirt and tunic
he’d been wearing for this morning’s early lecture had been ruined when he’d
walked into a sorcery student’s experiment out on the lawn. The lack of
formality of his new attire wouldn’t be a problem since he’d only be working in
his office.
He’d
just lifted the shirt over his head and was letting it fall over his shoulders
when he heard the creak of the floorboard a step inside his office, warning him
too late that he wasn’t alone.
His
own fault. He’d gotten complacent about pushing the door closed since he was
usually the only one on this corridor. And he’d just been chastising himself
about not giving away his secrets.
He
whipped around, and the man who’d caused the creak froze just inside the room.
His tall frame was elegantly and expensively attired, his pale blond hair
perfectly styled, his exceedingly handsome face brimming with shock and
curiosity. Corentin’s stomach sank. He knew what this man was—he’d made a point
of avoiding him because of that knowledge. Master Savarin, the most powerful
sorcerer in Tournai, stood just inside his office. He’d obviously seen the
markings on Corentin’s back, the faint, shimmering scale pattern that marked
him as one with the Talent to become a dragon.
Corentin
froze as well, a litany of curses running through his mind. Anyone who saw the
pattern would know what he was. Or, anyone at home would know, at least. He’d
come to Tournai because there were whispers of the prince’s cousin Etan looking
into dragon legends. Lord Etan, a young scholar who often lectured at the
university, was well-respected, and his interest was enough to worry Corentin.
But Etan had only theories—some quite close to the truth but nothing proven.
The
question was: what did Master Savarin know? He was a powerful sorcerer, and a
scholar as well, which was why Corentin made a point of avoiding him. Corentin
had already displayed too much of his power by using it recently to help find a
kidnapped child, but it could still be passed off as merely a powerful fire
Talent. Dragons were myth and legend these days. He could bluff his way through
this… as long as Master Savarin didn’t know what the markings signified.
Corentin
forced himself to relax, to present a casual demeanor he didn’t feel. He
reached for his spare jacket, shrugging into it as he spoke. “Master Savarin,
isn’t it? What can I do for you?”
Silvery
gray eyes focused on him. “What are those? On your back.”
Corentin
buttoned the jacket, keeping his movements unhurried. He would not look as if
he was trying to hide anything. “On my back? You mean the tattoos? I suppose
they’re not quite genteel, but…” He shrugged.
Master
Savarin’s gaze sharpened. “Those are not tattoos. I’ve never seen tattoos that
look like that.”
“Have
you seen many tattoos?” Corentin asked, keeping his voice mild.
“Some.”
“I
wouldn’t think they’re very common in the circles you move in. Or at least I
haven’t seen many tattoos during my time here at the university.” Was this argument
going to get him anywhere except into more trouble? He needed to divert
attention from the markings, not discuss them interminably.
“Perhaps
I know different people than you think.” Master Savarin’s attention never
wavered even as Corentin used his most forbidding stoney mask.
“I
got these on my travels. Perhaps they’re different from the ones you’ve seen.”
Maybe that would be the end of it.
“I’m
rather well traveled myself. I still haven’t seen anything like that.”
“You
can’t have seen everything.”
When
he saw the suspicious glint sharpen in Savarin’s eyes, Corentin wondered if
he’d gone too far. Was it the words or the smooth tone with just a hint of
flirtation that took him a step further than he should have gone? The question
was what would Savarin do. And what did he know?
Savarin
laughed, a smooth, practiced laugh probably not out of place at the court of
Prince Philip and his consort Amory. “No one could, but I’m certainly doing my
best.”
Corentin
propped a hip on the edge of his desk, letting out a laugh of his own and
fixing a charming smile on his face. He could still divert this conversation.
“A fellow traveler. I’m doing my best to see everything as well. Insatiable
curiosity, I suppose.”
“A
thirst for knowledge and new experiences.”
“Yes,
I’m always eager to see and experience new things on my travels.”
“I
am as well.” Savarin tilted his head slightly, regarding Corentin in a way he
couldn’t decipher. “Of course, sometimes I don’t have to leave home to find new
experiences.”
For
a moment, he wondered if Savarin was flirting. “A true scholar is always
learning.”
“Yes,
exactly.”
“It’s
why I came here, why I travel in the first place.”
Savarin
nodded. “I don’t think I ever heard where you’re from.”
Corentin’s
guard went back up. “Far from here. A small place in the foothills of the
Nashira Mountains.” Not exactly the truth but close enough. “No one’s ever
heard of it. A reason to travel, yes? If you come from somewhere so small and
isolated?”
“I
suppose it is. I grew up here, so I didn’t have the same experience.”
He
hadn’t heard much other than that about Savarin’s vague origins. “No, you
wouldn’t have. Jumelle is a vibrant, busy city from what I’ve seen. So many
people from so many places. So much knowledge here at the university.”
“Yes.
And with all that, and all my travels, I’ve never heard of magic of the kind
you performed.”
Corentin
forced himself to remain calm, to appear calm at least. “Magic I performed?”
Playing
dumb to stall would probably get him nowhere, but he did it anyway. And of
course Savarin proved him right, because the man wasn’t stupid. “Yes, the magic
you used to help recover Master Tristan’s baby daughter when she was kidnapped
earlier this year.”
Since
the incident, he’d been kicking himself for using the magic, and he’d done his
best to avoid Savarin’s attempts to question him about it. But what could he
have done? He hadn’t met Master Tristan, who was a merchant in Jumelle, before
that day. He’d gone to have lunch with Etan and found the palace in an uproar
because his infant daughter was missing. As much as he wanted to not draw
attention to what he was, he couldn’t have lived with himself if he hadn’t
offered to help.
And
his help had aided the royal guard and Savarin in finding the baby. Both Etan
and Master Tristan had been extremely grateful, and Etan, who was soon to marry
Tristan, had said he was in Corentin’s debt.
“It
was no great or special magic, but I was happy to be able to help. Horrifying
that a baby would be stolen from her home,” he said.
“I
have to disagree about the magic being special. I’ve never seen anything like
it.”
“You
didn’t see it, so I can’t imagine how you would know.” His words came out
sharper than he intended, and he regretted it immediately, but there was
nothing for it now.
“It
was described to me in detail,” Savarin said, showing no reaction to Corentin’s
slip in tone. “You told Lord Etan, Master Tristan, and Lord Flavian that you
have a fire Talent, but I’ve never seen someone with a fire Talent do what you
did.”
“I
doubt you’ve met every person with a fire Talent in the world.” He tried to say
it lightly, almost joking, but annoyance at the questioning was layering over
his worry.
“No,
but I’ve spent my life studying magic and the different Talents people possess.
I have a touch of a fire Talent myself. So I know something about it.” Before
Corentin could decide what to say next, Savarin continued. “At first, when I’d
heard what happened, I was simply curious. I wondered what you’d done and if I
could learn how to as well. But when I asked to talk with you, you put me off.
And soon I realized you were avoiding me. That’s when I got suspicious. Because
you had no reason to avoid me.”
“Perhaps
I didn’t feel the need to be interrogated about an uninteresting bit of magic
used to help someone recover his child.”
“But
the magic wasn’t uninteresting to me. And it wouldn’t have been an
interrogation. It would have been two scholars—two men with Talent—discussing
magic. From what I’ve heard, you have no problem engaging with scholars here.
You and Lord Etan meet often to talk about your respective work. Given that,
surely you can see how I might suspect you’d done something you wouldn’t want
anyone to know about? Something that might even be dangerous to Tournai or its
royal family.”
“I
resent that implication. You’ll remember I used the magic to help Tournai’s
royal family.” Corentin kept his voice steady, but he silently cursed himself.
He hadn’t meant to become more conspicuous by putting Savarin off, but he’d
needed more information, and a plausible story. Keeping away from him had
seemed best if the alternative was giving away who and what he was. Now he
wasn’t so sure.
“I
haven’t forgotten.” Savarin’s tone wasn’t anything other than what could be
termed condescending. But Corentin expected arrogance from him. “Neither does
that mean you don’t have bad intentions. A smart man knows to bide his time, to
gain the trust of others, before—”
“Before
what? Betraying it? I do have some loyalty, and whatever you think, I helped
out of the desire to see an innocent child brought home to her father.”
Corentin regarded Savarin steadily, not giving him a flicker of anything he
might twist into more suspicion. “I assume you used your magic to help for much
the same reason.”
“I
did. But it’s your behavior afterward that reflects poorly on you. You’re lucky
I haven’t alerted anyone else to my suspicions.”
Corentin
forced himself not to react to the threat in those words. He’d heard rumors,
whispers, of spies being found in Jumelle, sent to ferret out information by
the conquest-mad emperor of Ardunn. The Ardunn empire had been conquering and
absorbing countries to its east for years, and it was rumored that its emperor
had his sights set on Tournai, which was wealthy and strategically located on
the western half of the continent. He had no love for Ardunn himself—the
empire’s borders had expanded far too close to his home, which remained safe
and hidden only due to the impassable mountains—so he could understand that
there might be an air of caution. Would vague suspicions be enough in Tournai’s
current climate? Savarin was trusted. Would his word be taken without any other
proof?
“I
don’t know what you think I’ve done, or am planning to do.”
“My
suspicions might be nebulous, but my concern is for the safety of my country
and its royal family when they are in such close proximity to an unknown and
potentially dangerous magic.” Savarin seemed about to say something else, but
at that moment, the university bells chimed the hour. He cursed under his
breath. “I have to go to the palace for a meeting with the princes.”
Corentin
nodded, glad for the reprieve. “Of course. We’ll finish our discussion at
another time.”
A
time long in the future, if ever.
Savarin
hesitated and then seemed to come to some sort of decision. Dread flooded
Corentin. “No. I’m not going to chance you getting away from me again.”
“Excuse
me?”
“I’m
going to make sure you’re here waiting when I return from my meeting,” Savarin
said as he stepped back through the doorway.
“I
say again, excuse me? I might agree to wait for you, but I can’t see what you
can do otherwise.”
Savarin’s
lips curled into something that was almost a smile, but very definitely smug,
and Corentin’s dread grew stronger. Corentin strode toward Savarin, not sure
whether he would throttle the man or stride past him and away, putting an end
to an infuriating and nerve-wracking confrontation. Before he could make the
decision, he hit an invisible barrier in the doorway and stumbled back a step.
He
put a hand up, flattening it against the magic that barred his path, a wall he
couldn’t see. “What have you done?”
“Ensured
that you’ll still be here to finish this,” Savarin said, as if it made complete
sense for him to trap another person against his will, as if it was all right.
“You
think I’m going to run away?”
“I
think you’re going to go back to avoiding me, and I can’t have that. We’ll
continue our discussion when I return.”
“You
can’t do this,” Corentin bit out, but the sorcerer had already turned away, and
a moment later he had disappeared down the stairs.
Purchase Links
NineStar Press: https://ninestarpress.com/product/the-dragons-devotion/
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/742628
Meet the Author
Antonia Aquilante has been making up
stories for as long as she can remember, and at the age of twelve, decided she
would be a writer when she grew up. After many years and a few career detours,
she has returned to that original plan. Her stories have changed over the years,
but one thing has remained consistent—they all end in happily ever after.
She has a fondness for travel (and a
long list of places she wants to visit and revisit), taking photos, family
history, fabulous shoes, baking treats (which she shares with friends and
family), and of course, reading. She usually has at least two books started at
once and never goes anywhere without her Kindle. Though she is a convert to
e-books, she still loves paper books the best, and there are a couple thousand
of them residing in her home with her.
Born and raised in New Jersey, Antonia
is living there again after years in Washington, DC and North Carolina for
school and work. She enjoys being back in the Garden State but admits to being
tempted every so often to run away from home and live in Italy.
Author Links
Twitter: https://twitter.com/antoniaquilante
Email: antonia.aquilante@gmail.com
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