enough to fry the ruler. Just as the flames reached the monarch, who struggled to stand and escape them, Michael pulled the fire back into himself.
It slammed back into him with the force of a tornado, but he managed to stand.
The lessons with Xavier had served him well.
And just as King Falmouth collapsed back onto his makeshift throne, shaken but unhurt, there was an enormous surge of white, brilliant light.
Clouds of gray, crimson, silver and white smoke.
The surge of energy made the dragons fall from the sky, snarling as they tumbled downward. Most managed to land on their feet, but a few hit hard, making the earth tremble.
And then all the dragons turned to Skin—all clothed in garments with black and red stripes so they were all equal.
Michael marveled at such powerful magick.
All four wizards of the Brehon stepped out of the cloud. They faced the snarling clans. Xavier, the Crystal Wizard, judge of Earthers such as trolls. Gideon, the Crimson Wizard, judge of Fae. Caderyn, the Shadow Wizard, judge of Mages. And his judge, Tristan, the Silver Wizard, judge and guardian to all Shifters.
They were lined up like old-fashioned gunfighters he’d seen in a western on television. All four glowing with power, broad-shouldered, and each standing more than six feet tall.
And very, very pissed off.
“You interrupted my honeymoon, my precious time alone with my beautiful bride…for this nonsense?!” Tristan roared.
“You are dragons! Brothers in the sky, and you squabble like children of humans! There will be NO MORE BLOOD SHED HERE TODAY!” Xavier’s deep voice sang out over the mountains and his eyes glowed a fierce white.
Michael shuddered and held Anna closer. He had never, in his time in Tir Na-nog, heard his master use that thundering tone of voice.
“Please, my liege, it was a fight to defend our lands.” Munroe’s voice cracked and he glanced at his king. “King Falmouth approved of it.”
“I cannot leave my people undefended, Tristan. I will not pass into the next life knowing they are vulnerable to night attacks from the sky as they sleep.” The king stood on shaking, thin legs and Michael felt a ripple of pity. The ruler of Clan Tyrith’s White Mountain compound was kissing death’s door.
“If you would stop raging at Clan Fury and strive for logic, you would see the black dragons never did have, nor will have, any intention of taking over your lands,” Gideon said in a deep, authoritative voice.
“Or that the seeds Michael took were for me, and that I intend to use them to aid you,” Xavier growled.
“Or that Michael, the one you accuse of stealing away one of your females, is Anna’s true mate,” rumbled Caderyn.
Tristan nodded, his eyes glowing a fierce blue. “They are destined to be together and no war, not even dragon flames, can keep them apart. I will end this, here and now. I call for a formal endorsement of this union of dragons from Clan Fury and Clan Tyrith, for Michael, son of Neal, and Anna, daughter of Barlow, to be forever mated.”
He looked at his fellow wizards. “So sayeth I, Tristan, the Silver Wizard. What sayeth the Brehon?”
“I approve this union,” Xavier said. He held out his right hand, which glowed bright white.
“I approve,” Gideon echoed. He held out his hand, glowing a deep crimson.
“I approve,” Caedryn agreed. The Shadow Wizard’s right hand shone like mist sparkling in the sunshine.
“I approve.” Tristan held out his hand, which pulsed with a silver glow.
All four wizards laid their hands atop each other and suddenly there was a tremendous whoosh, as if the very air shredded. Incandescent flames of many colors burst out from their joined hands, such power that Michael could not look at the wizards.
The surge of energy made his ears hurt and his eyes water. Several dragons gasped, and stepped backward. The flames died, and the wizards dropped their hands to their sides.
An endorsement by the four wizards of the Brehon.