“With Corrin’s death comes change on a greater scale than you realize, my beloved. More than I can tell you, I am afraid. You must trust me in this.”
Cait moves to kneel next to me, and I fear I have pushed too far again, only so much she willingly accepts as necessary that I keep from her. This transformation taking place, Cait transcending humanity to become the North Star of the Dracopraesi Goddess Houses, places me in a difficult position, still a great deal I cannot tell her of her destiny to come. Pulling myself up to sit against the headboard, I expect another argument regarding this subject far too many questions she has that I cannot answer yet.
“Do not tell me I’m going to be Queen in Corrin’s place.” Her eyes dare me to tell her otherwise.
“I cannot explain. It is your destiny, Cait, and it is quite complicated.”
Wildly gesturing in the most entertaining way, how she always seems to get when truly worked up about anything, she nearly screams at me, a reminder how young she truly is, how much she has yet to experience and understand. “Complicated? Again with the complicated. Do you have any idea how much I despise that word the way you throw it around?”
Careful not to grin at her reaction, not wanting to tell her that I specifically avoid using that word with her unless necessary, I nod and take her hands in mine. “I know. This is not what I want for us, to be unable to tell you these things, to hold back. I swear to you, once this comes to pass, the necessity of doing such will be no more. Once the Goddess blesses our union and performs the rites, we can have a normal marriage, no destiny-affecting secrets between us.”
“Normal. Yeah, as normal as any dragon married to a woman he’s in love with who’s becoming some all-wonderful, eternal, dragon catnip North Star.” She maintains a straight face, slightly raising a brow as if questioning my sanity. “We will be so normal, Theo.”
Laughing, I tug her hands until she curls up with me. “We will find our normal, Cait.”
A hard knock rattles the bedroom door, and she shakes her head, quietly growling in typical fashion of her irritation. “Theo,” Liam calls in his brusque way. “Sorry to interrupt, but we have an urgent matter of security that needs your attention.”
“Please tell me this is not our normal,” Cait demands, scowling up at me.
I do not have the heart to tell her that to be needed by many may be an unchangeable fact of our existence together. “Not having a single night without some form of interruption? I certainly hope not. It seems quite impossible we could live eternally and not find at least one night of peace.” I maintain a calm voice, not wanting to engage in a deeper argument, slipping off the bed to pull on a pair of shorts. Leaning back over, I kiss her gently. “Put on clothes and keep your knife at hand.”
Grasping my hand once more before I can walk away, her blue eyes meet mine, capturing my heart just as she does each time she looks at me such. “Be careful,” she warns. “I love you, Theo.”
“Love is a small, weak word for the depth of what I feel, Cait. You are mine, and I am yours until this world returns to dust.”
Chapter 2
*Theo*
“Recon scouts.” Liam’s face is stony as I close the bedroom door behind me. “They’re attempting to blend in, dressed in street clothes, but Oliver and I both noticed there are far too many elves for this neighborhood.”
“How close?” My brother’s expression tells me enough. “I do not care for this position; feeling cornered, Liam. A top floor penthouse in the city is less than ideal. Eventually, the collateral damage of innocents will be unavoidable, something we cannot allow and far more than Cait should bear on her conscious.”
He nods, exhaling slowly. “Agreed, but count me out for telling her we’re looking to move her away from home again.”
Entering the kitchen, I take my water bottle out of the refrigerator, too distracted by Cait earlier to be mindful of my own needs. “If I become dehydrated again, shifting indoors this time instead of on her balcony, Cait may have no home left in which to remain.”
“Theo, Liam,” Claaron addresses us, rushing in from the front hall. “We have a breach of the perimeter. Two elves entered the lobby, not residents according to facial recognition.”
“Have they made any effort to gain access to the elevators or stairs?” I ask, hoping Clifford’s security measures hold to his usual level of impervious effectiveness.
“No. There’s been no attempt to bypass the codes; no alarms tripped. Should I go down and pay them a visit?” Claaron’s mouth turns up in a threatening smirk, quite keen on taking lethal action.
“Liam and I will go. Tell Oliver to mind the monitors and join us if the situation gets out of hand. Put everyone on alert then remain with Cait until I return.” Claaron nods before disappearing back to the office, his disappointment at the lack of opportunity to kill elves easily replaced with pride at being tasked as Cait’s protector in my absence. Turning toward Liam, I gesture to the balcony doors. “Shall we?”
Diving off the balcony railing, I shift smoothly into my natural dragon form. The night is overcast, black as obsidian, moonless, starless, and the deep green of my body blends into the dark. Just above the sidewalk, I roll, landing feet first, human again, dressed in jeans and boots with a hooded gray Harvard University sweatshirt. My brother lands nearby, similarly dressed. Not wishing to draw attention as we walk to the front of the building and stroll into the lobby, we motion for the doorman to remain quiet and step outside.
Neither elf loiters in the main lobby, but I can sense their presence, the darkness in their souls, the desire to harm, to kill, no concern for the effect of such actions. “Stairs,” I say, too low for anyone other than Liam to hear, standing next to me. He nods. Moving toward a hallway to the left of the elevators, we keep close to the wall, each footfall stealthily silent.
Approaching the corner, the first elf stands guard as lookout, prepared to warn his comrade. His blackened soul fills my mind, revealing his exact position. With the speed of a dragon, I reach around the corner, covering his mouth, picking him up, bringing him to face us against the wall. Our silver-eyed enemy grabs at the dagger he carries sheathed on his belt, yet the effort finds no ultimate purpose. A sudden twist of his head, breaking the elf’s neck, I drop the lifeless body to the ground slowly, determined not to notify the other of our presence quite yet.
A quick signal to me, Liam moves first, suddenly across the hall, waiting at the opposite corner. I peek around, assessing the situation to find the elf busy, focused on the Sky Book in his hand, hastily tapping at its touchscreen. The security panel, requiring an access code to enter, hangs open, wiring exposed, one rigged to connect to the Sky Book. Leaning back against the wall, I nod to Liam, and we both step into the hall, blocking any exit as we approach, making no effort to creep quietly.
He spins on his heel, attempting to show no fear, unsheathing the dagger at his side. “You cannot stop this. My death shall change nothing. Another will come.” He speaks with an air of confidence, but his iridescent eyes tell a tale. A singular gold band of victory on his braided black hair, he is no battle-hardened warrior, likely not seventy-five years old, still a youngling.
But I recognize him—Zhahan, Z Von Yalfayr’s nephew. The rogue Minister of Defense clearly wants the greatest of victories for his own legacy. “Your brother kin-father holds little regard for your life, willingly sacrificing you to further the reputation of Von Yalfayr blood,” I declare, watching him anxiously grip the dagger tighter.
“I am Zhahan Von Yalfayr, son of Valoin, and I shall die with honor for my legacy.”
Lunging at me, he wields the fae-forged steel dagger high, yet I grasp his wrist, twisting, hearing the bones snap under the force, and jab his gut with his own weapon. “No honor lies in vengeful bloodshed. Noble is the defense of innocents.” The youngling’s eyes roll upward to meet mine, mouth gaping open, filling with the crimson of death, and I bury the dagger to the hilt, splitting him wide to the sternum, expediting t
he darkness of his soul descending to the Underworld.
“Well, that was quick and painless.”
“Painless for us.” I drop the boy into a heap at my feet. “I doubt he would agree.” Inspecting the security panel, I shake my head in frustration. “Have you any idea how to repair this?”
Snorting derisively, Liam takes a quick look at it. “I simply watched him install these things. You’d have to ask Clifford how it works. I’m your tactical advisor, Theo, not your damn tech support.”
With a low growl, I turn to walk away. “Then we must hope my tech support has recovered enough to be of use.” Stopping once I pass the elevators, I look to my brother beside me. “Do you sense that?”
“Hm. So much for quick and painless. Seems there’s more excitement to be had tonight.”
He signals to the nearest security camera, indicating our current situation to Oliver as I slip toward the front of the lobby, scanning the surrounding area. “They were part of a kindell. Another ten outside, closing in.” I drop the hood of my sweatshirt down, and Liam follows suit. “To protect the innocent.” I solemnly weave the mark of the Goddess on my chest with one finger.
“To protect the innocent.” My brother signs the triquerta over his heart as well.
Bursting forth from the doors, we meet the elves on their approach. Swiftly ducking to miss a sword aimed at my neck, I remove the attacker’s head from behind in one fluid movement. Immediately, one comes at my side, armed with a bow, but he’s far too near to aim well, and I’m on him, removing the arrow from his possession, jabbing it completely through his neck. Turning, I pull the arrow out again, stabbing another attacker in the eye as he wields a short knife, driving the fae-forged steel in to penetrate the back of his skull.
Hearing Liam swearing loudly, I glance to my right, seeing him tear one elf’s arm from his shoulder, swinging it as a club, smashing his enemy’s head with his own bodily limb. Moving at an incredible speed, Liam tackles another warrior, crushing the elf’s hand in his, causing him to drop his spear before my brother throws him to the ground, stomping a booted foot into his head, spilling its contents onto the pavement.
Yet another comes toward me, and I drop to one knee, knocking his legs out from under him with one motion of an arm, gripping his neck as he falls, ripping his head from his body. Picking up a sword from the ground, I swing around, slicing through the next elf as he tosses his spear at the place I stood previously. The last warrior of the kindell takes aim at me with his bow, the arrow narrowly missing as I step sideways then lunge toward him, running the sword into his chest to its hilt, meeting his black eyes for a moment before tossing him to the bloodied ground.
“Is that all of them?” Liam tosses an elf head onto the ground.
“I believe so. For now. They’re infiltrating the city in much larger numbers.” Liam nodded, the same concern weighing on both our minds. “Forcing innocent humans into a centuries-old desire for revenge is unacceptable. … The collateral damage would be catastrophic.” We remained silent for a moment. “Bring the other two out here. They may collect their dead, but they may not enter the building again.” I watch my brother disappear through the lobby doors as I gather all the fae-forged steel weapons from the ground. Shifting again, I blast them with dragon fire, melting them into an indistinguishable mass.
Once Liam retrieves the two bodies, he shifts, and we launch into the air, flying a perimeter search yielding results of minimal immediate concern then return to the balcony. Back in human form, we enter the apartment, Cait exploding out of our bedroom, running toward me. “Hades’s fire, Theo, please tell me none of that blood belongs to either of you.” Fists clenched and furious, I almost believe she could have taken down a few elves herself. Behind her, Claaron shakes his head. He likely spent the entire time with her this feisty.
“We are fine, Cait.” I try to reassure her, not that it makes a difference in how she worries after us all, her dragons, her family. She makes a face as I lean down for a kiss, the smell of elf blood displeasing her recently developed heightened sensory abilities. “I kill elves to protect you and am refused a simple kiss of appreciation?”
Relenting, she stretches up on her toes, touching only her lips to mine, avoiding contact elsewhere. “Now go shower. You reek.”
I frown. “Will you not join me?” So little time we find alone of late, I find it disappointing to know Cait would deny such an opportunity.
“Sorry. I can’t. Evan called, saying he’s on his way. I don’t want to be rude.”
Claaron laughs at her explanation. “Evan Gilroy is a married man. I’d imagine he would understand the desire to be with Theo, Cait. More so, as a man, he would understand Theo’s desire to be with you.”
Turning on him, Cait unleashes her all-too-familiar temper. “Oh, yes, because I’m sure me fooling around with Theo while he’s here visiting his dying brother seems as perfectly reasonable to a gentleman like Evan as it does to a pervy dragon like you.”
“I can be a gentleman too; however, being a ‘pervy dragon’ is far more fun,” Claaron replies with a smirk simply to aggravate her.
*Corrin*
Opening my eyes, the soft light of the reading lamp by the chair in the corner draws my attention, and I loll my head in its direction, blinking as I try to focus. “Did I wake you?” His voice remains ever familiar, though it is his tone that remains alien to my ears, unlike that used toward me for centuries.
“No, Dante. Grandfather,” I correct myself, still finding his change of heart difficult to comprehend. “I feel rested well enough.” Slowly sitting up on the bed, I see him marking a page in the book he holds, setting on the side table. “To atone, I must fulfill my promise, assist in guarding Cait. That is quite impossible while slumbering away each day and night.”
He stands, crossing the room, perching on the edge of the bed, near me. “Caitriona understands, Corrin. She holds no expectations of you in such a condition as you are now.”
“It is not the expectations of others with which I concern myself. It is my own.” I wish the words came out with more force than they do. “Theo granted me rites of atonement. Cait permitted me to remain here, earn the touch of the Goddess under Oliver’s watchful eye. However, they are my regrets, my sins to make peace with before I die.”
“Of that, I am aware, yet it changes nothing given your state.” Lowering his head, he whispers, “I cannot save you now, but I could give you more time.”
Taking in his words, I stare hard, willing him to look at me, though he does not. “Cannot save me now. Do you mean to say you could have at a previous point in time?”
After some silence, he answers. “Yes.” Meeting my gaze, his vibrant blue eyes appear dulled by sorrow and pain. “My own blood can heal the illnesses of vampires. Although I do not know if it is a matter of being the original of the species or being the son of the Mother Goddess, perhaps both. I cured your father of the same affliction quite long ago, deeming Cedric worthy of survival, yet I passed judgment on you, refusing to do the same.”
“You judged me rightfully; nothing had I done to prove otherwise. A simple cure would have led to an existence continued on in the matter I lived before Cait.”
“That is the argument I use to assuage myself of guilt, Corrin, but watching you lie here, to see you dying before my very eyes, all reasonable logic fails to provide peace with my decision.”
“Know you watch me die a far better man than I lived, Grandfather. Your choice did not decide my fate, my own have.” Reaching over, I take his hand, gaining some measure of comfort in an action disallowed by him a matter of weeks ago. “You bear witness to what I have become and claim me as your grandson. I could not ask for more than to know you no longer look upon me with disdain and disappointment.”
He covers our joined hands with his other, nodding with a weak smile. “Any
disappointment I hold is not with you, merely with the lack of time to admire who you have become.”
A sof
t knock at the door precedes the entrance of my brother, and Dante moves to allow Evan room to sit between us. “Grandfather,” he addresses the demigod who has long refused to acknowledge such familial attachments. “You are well?”
“All things considered, yes. The elves attacked again, attempted to breach the security codes at the stairwell.” Regretfully, I knew nothing of this, forced by my illness to rest far more than I wish. “Caitriona will not desire to leave her home, but I do not believe her safety can be assured here. We are little more than caged birds, waiting upon the feral cats to attack.”
“Indeed,” I add. “Our position provides minimal, if any, opportunity for a proper offensive counter, not with this population density. It forces our hands to remain tied, demanding we sit, waiting to defend ourselves yet again.”
My brother shakes his head sorrowfully. “After the related human death reported from the first skirmish … you know their code. A single innocent life taken is one far too many … Liam mentioned they are debating viable options, though no one wants Cait to know.” Evan speaks with an eye toward the door, as if he fears she may come charging through it. I daresay she would if she overheard. “What would they need?”
Trying to think clearly, it takes me a few moments longer than I like to answer, calling upon years as a warrior, both as a human and a vampire to clarify the necessities. “Space for housing Cait and her dragons, of course. Somewhere outside the city, preferably with a defined perimeter to monitor. A place distant enough from a surrounding population to reduce collateral damage, and room to launch effective offensive and defensive strikes on their forces.”
“Somewhere like the clan estate?” Grandfather turns to my younger brother when I nod in agreement. “The Dracopraesi have protected your clan, our clan for nearly a thousand years. I believe it quite reasonable to offer something in return, regardless of the state of affairs with your brother. Do you not, Evan?”