Waking the Dragon (33 page)

Barron laughed. “Leaderless?” His chilling tone pierced me with cold hatred, his voice a viper’s sting. “She tried. But failed.”

My heart plummeted. I couldn’t read Kieren’s expression from this distance, but the silent pause told me he digested the truth of the statement. Barron wasn’t bluffing.

“Your king lives?”

“Oh, yes.” Having circled around, Barron was now opposite Kieren in the clearing, facing me. Arrogance and triumph dripped from his voice. “Poison has no effect on my lord and master. Unfortunately, the sedative she dosed him with did. Even so, he no longer wants her for just a breeder.”

Relief washed over me until he spoke again.

“He wants her for much more.
After
he punishes her.”

My heart sank, stomach clenching tight. Barron’s black eyes found me in the gloom. “And I intend to help him do just that. As soon as I dispatch you”—he glanced upward—“he’ll be along shortly, so let’s get this over with.”

Barron lunged, lightning-swift with the aid of his wings, slicing a concealed dagger across Kieren’s chest. Kieren cried out. The two grappled and fought, steel swinging, wings flapping. I cringed, watching the two fall to the ground. A crunch of wings. Barron bellowed, blowing a line of orange flame, singeing Kieren. Another cry.

I glanced up through the barren trees, fearing I’d see the monster, looking for help, finding no one. A panting struggle. Blood gurgling in someone’s throat. The two Morgons collapsed, one on top of the other.

Both still as death.

Terrified, I tip-toed into the open, crunching fallen leaves beneath my feet. Kieren splayed unmoving atop Barron, whose staring, black eyes showed no spark of life. Careful of Kieren’s wings, I pulled him by the shoulder, rolling him off of Barron. Kieren’s short-sword was buried to the hilt under Barron’s ribs, blood pouring a dark pool into the ground.

The front of Kieren’s shirt was burned away, his entire chest a mass of seared flesh. But his chest rose and fell. Alive.

“Oh, Kieren.”

I didn’t dare touch him further, knowing the pain of the burn probably knocked him unconscious. I curled into a trembling ball next to his body and waited.

No one came. Time stretched. My shivering grew more violent, wracking my body from teeth to toes. So cold.

I heard nothing but a night bird in the tree above me, a scurrying animal in the fallen leaves, the wind singing a solemn tune through silvery branches. My fingers stopped stinging. My breath grew shallow.

Singing Wind Woods.

Petrus said there was magic in this place. That it clung to the Moonring Morgons because their clan was first born in these woods. Would it protect me because I was beloved by Kol? Would it keep me from dying?

“Please protect us,” I whispered to the woods, voice broken.

My thoughts hazed. My mind drifted. I wasn’t cold anymore. I couldn’t feel my fingers or my feet. I couldn’t feel much at all.

Something slunk close to the ground along the trunks of trees, drawing closer. A flash of orange-gold light, then it vanished. Or so I thought. It reappeared among the roots of the closest oak. Thin, spindly limbs, like these branches. Feline. Familiar.

“Hello?” My voice was hoarse, hardly making sound at all.

It meant me no harm, slinking nearer. Round, golden eyes peered close to my face.

I smiled. “Seerie.”

Petrus’s pet, the necrominx. She lowered her black nose and touched it to mine, shocking my body with a spark of vibration. Warmth spread into my blood, flowing into my chest, my limbs, fingers, and toes. I began to shake, my teeth chattering.

She burrowed into the curve of my abdomen, radiating mystical heat straight into my body. I could feel the blood pumping faster into my cheeks and nose. Soft fur brushed under my chin.

There was no doubt now. Magic did live in these woods, and I was favored. Blessed. I wouldn’t die. I would have the chance to see my love again. Such a precious gift made me weep with joy. Seerie shifted, licking the tear from my cheek, tongue rough but tender. I laughed, chest aching from the slow thaw of my body.

“Th-th-thank you.”

The necrominx snuggled under my chin, a rough purr rumbling against my neck.

I wouldn’t waste this gift. I must swallow all fear, all pride, and tell Kol what he truly meant to me. That even without the bond of soulfire, he was everything to me.

The wind blew a sweet melody, whistling and singing through the trees, as if angels lived here, carrying their ethereal song to those it loved best. Silver branches waved in the wind, brushing and rustling, making their own music of the night. I felt cradled in warmth and safety, the necrominx close to my heart, wind-song caressing my soul. I whispered again to the spirits here, lips trembling. “Thank you.”

Seerie lifted her head and pricked her ears. She stepped lightly to the edge of the tree line, staring back, imploring me with orange eyes to follow. She was right. We had to find Kol and the others. With warmth in my limbs, I moved to follow, touching a hand to Kieren’s cheek. “We’ll bring help. Hold on.”

He appeared lifeless, though a pulse still beat in his throat. I forced myself to leave him, knowing Seerie would lead me to Petrus’s cabin.

Seerie slipped through the woods more urgently, stopping every few yards to glance over her shoulder. Her fey eyes darted in all directions. She hopped over a protruding root from a thick-trunked tree. These evergolds were old, branches hanging thick and heavy, their knotty and gnarled roots protruding high out of the earthen floor.

Seerie paused, her gaze shooting straight into the sky. Hissing, she implored with her eyes for me to follow.

I stared up, seeing nothing, but obeyed anyway. A prickling of fear crept up my spine. She crawled into a deep groove between jutting roots. I did the same, crouching down, back against the trunk, curling my legs into a ball. Seerie pressed her body against my legs. The familiar spark of necrominx magic enveloped me, darkening the shadows around the tree to deepest pitch just as the sound of great wings beat overhead.

Sucking in a breath, I froze, watching the monster king land a short distance away, folding massive black wings to his back. I felt a growl quiver in Seerie’s belly. The beast-like Morgon pivoted his head in all directions, lifting his nose into the air, inhaling deep. Then he swiveled his head toward us and stepped forward.

Trembling in the dark, I prayed that whatever magic this little feline had, it was enough to hide us from the creature stalking closer. His voice rumbled when he spoke, like boulders rolling down a mountain, sending a shiver through my frame. “I can smell you.” The crooked grin creasing his sharp-angled face made me cringe. He opened his arms, clawed hands extended. “Come to me.”

He laced those three words with a pulse of dominance, which rippled outward from his body. It beat against my chest, snatching my will and forcing me to move forward. I was no match for Morgon magic.

“No,” I whimpered, tears pricking, unable to withstand the compulsion to obey.

Seerie hissed when I moved out of her supernatural shadow, bounding away into the woods, leaving me alone…with him. I stood, my back ramrod straight, my body yielding to his will as it had done before.

With a feral gleam in his eyes, he puffed up his bare chest and moved toward me—controlled, powerful—with slow, purposeful steps. His prey caught, there was no hurry.

Wrapping his fist around my braid, he gave a tight yank, tilting my chin upward. I yelped. He curved his other hand around my waist, claws digging into my back through my clothes.

I trembled under the scrutiny of his serpentine eyes with slit pupils gazing their fill. He bent his head and inhaled my scent. “You’ve fucked him again.”

I couldn’t respond. His eyes narrowed, mouth drawn in a tight line. “I’m not accustomed to my servants defying me.” His voice grated against my skin, claws piercing my skin.

“I’m n-not your servant.”

His grip tightened in my hair.

“Ah!” I gasped.

“No. You are not a servant.” His mouth cut into an obscene smile, revealing a row of canine teeth. He relished my pain. “You will be my queen. There is only one way to scrape your lover’s scent from your skin.”

Heart hammering, I pushed against his shoulders to no avail. His grip held hard, his motive sure. He wanted…

“Soulfire,” I whispered, nearly choking on the word.

“Yes.”

I kicked and fought with my arms and legs, the rest of me pinioned against him.

“Be still!” His voice thundered with Morgon dominance. I bowed my back, the torture of defying his will paralyzing me. “Succumb to me, and the pain will go away.”

“No.” I shook my head, frantic.

“You must.” His beastly features contorted to reveal the savage monster he truly was. “If you do not, everyone you know will die.”

Captured in his fiery gaze, I saw the crumpled bodies of Lucius and Jessen in a pool of blood. I saw my parents ripped into pieces on their living room floor. I saw Lucius tossed off the roof of a high-rise with broken wings. I saw Kris, Macon, Sorcha, Lorian, Valla, Kieren, Kraven, Conn—all of them—glassy-eyed and lifeless. Finally, across my mind flashed an image of the one I loved most, stretched on a floor, beaten beyond recognition with the cool, void expression of death frozen in place. I didn’t know whether he put those images in my head somehow or whether I conjured them myself. The impact was the same.

I swallowed the lump swelling in my throat. I had no choice.

“Yield to me,” he commanded. His eyes flickered to the medal dangling at the hollow of my neck. “Be what she never was. Be my queen.”

Saint Portia.

Oh, God. This beast, this abomination was…Larkos? It wasn’t possible, and yet I knew it as surely as the stars hung in the sky, as the wind whispered through the trees. Larkos Nightwing, the first Morgon who wiped out all of dragonkind, held me pinioned in his arms, demanding that I be his queen, be what Portia never could.

I
could
be what she never was. The death of him.

Something had happened between them. Their heartbond wasn’t strong enough. She killed herself in vain, unable to seal his fate as well.

But I could.

I could bond him to me, accept his horrific embrace, his barbaric body, his heartless heart. I could wind him around me in a way where my death would unequivocally equal his. I could kill this beast clutching me in his arms as if I were already his possession.

Kol would never forgive me. But he would live. As would my family and friends.

“Yield,” he growled, tightening his grip on my braid, my scalp pulling in pain.

“Yes.” Pulse pounding a death knell, tears streaming in hot protest, I gave him my consent. “I will be your queen.”

Triumph spread across his face as he lowered his lips to mine, a growl vibrating from his chest. The moment he sealed our mouths, something slammed into us both. We tumbled sideways. I rolled out of his grip to the cold ground.

Kol loomed over the beast, rage vibrating an electric current in the air, sword slashing forward. The king flung his weight upward, knocking Kol to the side, but not before his sword lanced across his shoulder.

He yelled, swiping a sharpened claw through the air, just missing Kol’s face. Ready for him, Kol swung, silver glinting, catching the tip of the beast’s hand.

The creature screamed, clutching his bleeding hand. Three shadows swept into the clearing—Valla, Conn, and Lorian.

The beast’s face contorted into a dark mask before he skyrocketed up into the night, breaking branches of trees as he spun upward. Lorian and Conn trailed in his wake, cracking more branches. Twigs and leaves falling like rain.

Kol flew to my side and scooped me off the forest floor.

“Kieren.” I pointed the way I’d come. “He’s hurt.”

“Bowen and Kraven found him already,” said Valla, gaze fixed on Kol. “You get her out of here.” She vanished into the heavy darkness above.

Clinging tight, I pressed my cheek into the curve of his neck and shoulder, sighing at the instant warmth of my heart, safe in his arms again. But the tightness of his jaw, the steely glance of his gaze, and the iron-clad embrace nearly stopped my breath. He knew what I had nearly done. What I would have done, willingly, had he not come.

We flew under the treetops, not over. I closed my eyes and waited, hoping we didn’t have far to go. Somehow I knew where we’d end up. Sure enough, when he landed and I opened my eyes, we stood within sight of Petrus’s cabin. A square of yellow light glowed in the near distance.

He set me on my feet with a violent jolt, gripping my shoulders, eyes blazing like a madman. I felt his agony, a visceral lash in the air against my skin.

“You would have
bound
yourself to him?”

“Kol—I—I—”

“
No
.” He clutched me in his arms, an embrace of desperation and longing and sheer panic. One hand cradled my nape, fingers firm. The other spread against the small of my back. “Never.” His words ground low, like a stone wall sliding open. “Never will you sacrifice yourself for me, for
anyone
!”

“I could’ve stopped him if you’d let me. I could’ve killed him.” My ire rose with his, my fingers curling into fists against his chest. “He threatened to kill everyone—”

“I don’t give a fuck if an entire
city
burns to the ground. I would have
died
without you. Don’t you understand?” His hands came up, cradling my face, fingers spreading into my hair along my scalp, his hold too tight. “This is no longer your body, your heart, or your soul. It is
mine
.”

A sob escaped. “But it’s not, is it?” Voice shaking, I have no idea how I could challenge such a man with the undeniable edge of insanity filling his eyes. Even so, I pushed him to the brink. “Not without soulfire, I’m not. I never will be.”

The old fear skittered across his face.

“Someone once told me to never let fear lead me.” I swiped the back of one hand across my cheek. “But you do. How long will you let fear lead you?”

I knew the second he snapped, the moment he took what fate had offered. I caught a glimpse of possession, obsession, and devotion from the piercing blue. Then he made me his, once and for all.