With a sharp laugh, I slap him on the chest, and he grins. “Like Hades’s fire I can’t!”
“Oh, no.” Claaron sighs. “Do not do this again. Theo. She nearly clipped our wings over yesterday’s fiasco.”
“And I’m not sure it can be said enough, Claaron… and the rest of you. You’ve pledged your loyalty and sworn to protect me, at least to some degree.” I toss a harsh glance in Oliver’s direction, a dragon with the good grace to look chastised for his indecisiveness. “Theo’s trying to do everything for everyone and be everywhere, holding too much responsibility on his shoulders when you’re all supposed to carry some of the weight. Clipped wings will be the least of your worries if I ever find another arrow stuck in my husband again. I’ll fillet your precious scales off.”
Theo laughs. “And you call me crazy.”
“I’m not talking crazy, just territorial. You are mine, and I will protect what is mine.” I meet his eyes, unrelenting, daring him to challenge me.
“Cait has heart of dragon,” Jai says softly.
A smirky grin creeps across Theo’s face. “Indeed she does.”
“Yes. Indeed,” I agree. “What would you do if any one of them failed you, allowed anything to happen to me?”
There’s a collective breath held in the room, silence falling with a deafening thud, and despite six furnace-like dragons crowding my kitchen, the ambient temperature plummets to an Arctic climate as Theo’s expression darkens.
“I have lived over ten thousand years, twenty maybe, perhaps longer. I do not know. Too long… but long enough that I know many ways of torture and killing. They do not want to know. They do not need to know. It is enough I know they fear my wrath should they do so.”
I hear a slow exhale and glance at Dante, receiving a mild look of amused innocence. “Many times I felt some jealousy of the Dracopraesi, yet in this moment, I am quite glad not to be one of your brothers, Theo.”
Theo doesn’t even look away from me. “You made a promise to protect her as well, Dante. Deities may be eternal, may not die, but you feel pain. You still bleed. You can suffer. Do not believe I hold you any less accountable to the honor of your word than my kindred brothers.”
Any amusement shrivels up and dies on his face. “Very well then, Theo. Consider your warning dually noted.”
Every one of their heads jerk upward, attention alert on something above us, something on the roof, and Corrin comes running in the room. “Beloduvae,” he announces, tone tinged with anger. “I saw them approach through my window. They’ve wasted no time.”
I recognize the word but can’t place where from or what it means. The expressive responses on the eight other faces in the room tell me whatever it is or they are, I should be displeased by this turn of events.
“It seems they wish to bring the battle to us.” Theo states this with a valiant air of satisfaction, which doesn’t make me feel any better, keenly aware these damn dragons enjoy a good fight well beyond a healthy alpha male appetite for conflict. “Then it is excellent I am healed and hungry for the blood of my enemies.”
“Oh, please… can we not say that?” I find it more than mildly disturbing that I kiss that mouth.
His broad smile shows brilliant white teeth, and for once, it does look just as scary as I think it’s meant to. “You cannot say that. You are not a dragon. I am. I can say that. I do. I will.”
Claaron and Liam head out the balcony door, no orders needed, and I can see them shifting at a full run, taking to the sky, some horrid, giant, reptilian-esque hawk-like creatures soaring through the air toward them with elves on their backs, guiding them by harnesses, prepared for battle. Engaging the dragons, one barely avoids Liam’s tail lashing out in attack. Another takes a fiery blast from Claaron, a few monstrous crimson feathers floating down to land in my pool, the only remnants left of the hideous beast… or its rider.
Walking toward the windows, the cloudless sunny sky darkens to a stormy deep gray as Dante raises his hands, lights in the apartment flickering wildly, an electrical charge surging over the surface of his exposed skin, crackling like static electricity across his clothing. Thunder booms and rumbles louder than cannon fire, rattling everything within my home, a few pictures falling from the walls, and the sharpest blue lightning I’ve ever seen begins striking from the clouds. The power of the unnatural bolt incinerates one leathery, feather-tipped wing of a nearby warrior bird, sending both the animal and its rider plummeting to the ground in the midst of our picturesque waterfront view.
A nod from Theo sends Clifford joining Liam and Claaron, barely getting out the door before shifting, not even in flight yet when the first massive fireball goes up in the air with a roar. An arrow grazes past him and hits the glass of my balcony wall, shattering it.
“Jai, stay with Cait,” orders Theo, his voice resonating with the reminiscent tone used in the conference room at court.
She. Is. Mine.
Words I will never forget. Strong, confident, commanding—everything I expect my dragon to be. Everything I want him to be.
Jai is at my side in a puff of smoke, fingers stroking my arm, offering the calming peace of his touch, wide eyes and impish grin on me. “No harm come to Cait.” Soft and self-assured, I imagine I’ve not even had a taste of the little Mage-dragon’s capabilities and the reason Theo prefers him at my side.
“If I may, brother,” Oliver dares to speak, earning a glare from Theo. “I wish to guard Lady Hayden. Allow me this honor, that I may prove myself noble. I have not forsaken our house or the worth of the title I bear.”
Theo leans in, burying his nose in my hair, breathing my scent, and kissing me on the temple before replying. “If you fail, I will take pleasure in your reincarnation, taking your life for the loss of hers time and time again until I no longer feel the pain of my loss, brother.” He lifts me off the counter to the floor, holding me against him for a moment, then allows Oliver near me.
“Her bathroom is the most defensible position. One point of entry, and a small linen closet with room for her to hide inside if necessary. My sword is stowed under the bed, my knife under my pillow.” He says this with such nonchalance, as if sleeping with weaponry is completely normal. For dragons, it might be. I can’t manage shock or even surprise at this revelation, though I muster a significant amount of curiosity at what he has stashed under his pillow.
“What of me?” Corrin asks, approaching my dragon, and I’m surprised he’s still in the kitchen. “You may feel you have no reason to trust me, but I wish to assist in some manner. Surely if you believe I have brought this about, you agree it is my responsibility to fight as well.”
“But if I order you to fight, how can I trust you will not cower in the face of danger or turn on Cait like a traitorous bastard?” questions Theo in a deep growl, grasping the vampire so hard by the neck, he lifts him off the ground. “Do know, if you defy my command, Your Highness, I will remove your head from your body and test Newton’s Second Law, tossing them both off Cait’s balcony to see if they truly do hit the sidewalk at the same time.”
There isn’t the tiniest hint of sarcasm in Theo’s voice, and Corrin does his best to nod, despite limited mobility in his position, somehow earning the right to stand on the floor again at least. Rubbing a hand across his throat, he raises his other hand, eyeing Theo. He casts a hopeful glance at Jai, possibly the only one he trusts does not have any interest in decapitating him. “I will not betray you. My death is well earned and most deserved, be it carried out by the Dracopraesi or in battle. I only ask for the opportunity to atone for my sins, to shed the light of the Goddess on the darkness of my soul.”
Theo says nothing, his expression stony, then he nods. “So the soul pleads, so the Goddess grants it be.” He turns to Oliver, eyes matching the somber tone of his voice. “Dante told me of your request, and I do not grant yours, brother. Should your ward defy me, he is mine to destroy. It is my wife he endangers should he do so. Your fate shall be to face an eternity endu
ring the knowledge of his failure, knowing your ward snuffed out the shimmering light of our North Star.”
Finally, he turns to me, matters of my protection settled, a battle ongoing outside, with thunder, lightning, roars, screams, sounds of victory and sounds of defeat ringing in our ears. He must go, must join the fray, and I don’t want to say good-bye, to let him go, to risk him. But I can’t risk the rest of my dragons and not be willing to risk my dragon, my Theo. He doesn’t kiss me good-bye. He kisses me with a passionate promise to return when he must answer this call of honor as a dragon. He isn’t walking away or leaving me behind, only keeping me safe.
*Theo*
I do not wish to leave her side. I want to believe Cait is in the hands of the brother I have always trusted more than any other when I turn away, but Oliver’s recent actions leave me relying on his loyalty to her destiny more so than his loyalty to our brotherhood. The taste of her kiss remains on my lips; I recall her face, her body, her touch, our embrace, our passion, our love, and I know for what I fight as I launch with one powerful, running leap from the balcony, Jai forming a billowing plume of camouflaging smoke around me.
Bursting forth from the cover, fully shifted, I release a bellowing roar and a blaze of spewing fire, decimating three unsuspecting elfin warriors atop their battle-hardened beloduvae, hideous, in-bred atrocities to nature. I have not fed in too long. Using far too much energy in healing, I choose my next target, a rather stout, white-haired, rogue archer atop the next building, aiming an arrow toward Clifford. Careening around in a wide circle, working to gain maximum speed, I catch him from his blind side, arm lifted in aim, unaware of my approach, and snatch him up. The arrow goes askew, far off target from my brothers, and as I swallow my prey, wondering why Liam swears elves taste better with barbeque sauce, I spot Jai.
He blends into Dante’s storm like a mist of fog, creeping up on a half dozen of Z’s soldiers who are preparing a zipline from a neighboring building to Cait’s, giving their forces greater access. Swirling around them, the elves are confused by the blinding heaviness of the fog, the unusual power of Mage sorcery, and one-by-one, they walk off the edge of the building, falling to their own deaths with no visible provocation. Leaving the final soldier unharmed by the mist, Jai takes dragon form again, not a roar or a small flame as warning before ensnaring the elf in his jaws, always preferring a ‘raw whole-food’ diet.
Assured that the troublesome lot is dispatched, I go in search of another target, hoping to find an elf still on a beloduva. For all they are ugly creatures, their meat is tender and flaky, much like fish, though they do not have a repugnant scent.
I hear their approach, the loud flapping of wings, the warrior’s battle cry anticipating his desired kill, and I maneuver with a graceful motion, turning onto my back in the air. Neck outstretched toward the attacker gaining on my position, wings holding me powerfully in place, I let out a thin stream of fire in a direct hit to the warrior, toasting his bird just the way I like them, and I snap it up before it falls from the air.
Healed and now fed, I can better focus on the battle at hand, and fly far higher, better assessing our tactical status. Two arrows miss me by less than a few meters, leaving me little time to view the situation before I must rejoin the others, though I am satisfied we are well in control. Though I cannot attest to Z’s desired outcome, I do not believe he intended to win, but rather intended to determine our defensive strengths, including my personal ability to fight again… or to see if I even survived from yesterday.
“Theo, watch out for that sniper,” warns Liam.
In a corkscrew nosedive toward the obvious location of the stealth-cloaked sniper, I take a deep breath, releasing a long steady blaze, incinerating everything in the vicinity. “Yes. Thank you. I hadn’t noticed the arrows grazing past me, Liam.” I mock his tendency for stating the obvious during battle.
Swerving around, Cait’s balcony comes into sight just as Claaron swoops down and gnashes his teeth through an elfin swordsman dangerously close to the door. “My bad. I blasted a couple down on the street and left the balcony unguarded for a few moments. I don’t know how he got here so fast.”
Clifford swallows a mouthful, shaking his long neck, working down the unappetizing meal. He hates elves, and claims they have a repulsive aftertaste. “I’ve been on the roof. Should have had an eye on the balcony too, Theo.”
“If I see another one make it to her balcony, I’m letting her paint every one of your talons,” I declare, gliding between the buildings at an angle, the street too narrow for my wingspan, picking up speed when I zero in on my target, a kindell. Twelve more warriors wait in the shadows of a nearby building, prepared to attack when we believe the battle has ended.
“Cait wish to paint dragon talons, Cait may paint mine.”
“Jai… I will tell her.” I do not have the heart to tell him it was meant as a threat. I certainly did not intentionally include him in the threat. Were Jai spiteful or vengeful, he could turn me into an eternal crocodile for such a thing, or far worse. “I found their kindell.”
A superb flier, Claaron dives, skimming along the side of the building where they hide, and should reach them near the same time I do. In a puff of smoke, Jai appears below me, and I slow, allowing him a slight lead. He pushes ahead, disappearing into a cold misty vapor as we reach the kindell, just before their hailstorm of arrows would hit us, but they hit the cold of Jai’s mystical gift instead, turning them to ice so they shatter on impact with my hardened scales, doing no harm. Reverting to dragon form, Jai, Claaron, and I engulf their kindell in dragon fire, setting them alight like kindling.
“We see nothing more from up here.” Liam reports in our status, and I look up in the sky, seeing both he and Clifford encircling the area, doing an aerial sweep for further danger, additional enemies. “That seemed far too easy, Theo.”
Flying up and joining them, Claaron and I glance at one another, knowing we both agree. “Your enemy will never be predictable, Liam. Z had a purpose for this, whether we know what it is now or not. Do not be so foolish to believe he behaved without calculating the perceived value of the move made.”
The sky clears once again and the clouds part, the sun shining over the city as we reach far above the rooftops, soaring through the air, five dragons in flight. I see Dante watching us from Cait’s balcony and wish to see her as well, but I know Oliver will keep his word. He will not allow her out until I return and say it is safe.
Oliver does not understand the way I love her, nor do Liam or Clifford. To love a female ward is the only concept of love they know as dragons. Dante understands his mother’s purpose more so than I—why she desires this change in me, in us. Claaron sees a different view, having once loved a ward, married her, and lost her, though Rainelm was not to him what Cait is to me. And Jai. Jai knows more than any of us understand, more than he will ever speak of in our lifetimes.
“Go to your North Star. You need her.” I hear Jai’s soft voice in my head, and I nod, letting out an exhale of smoke and quiet growl in agreement. I do need her, need her in ways I did not believe I could need someone.
*Corrin*
“I do believe when Theo explained the defensive nature of your bathroom, he did intend you would remain inside there until he says otherwise, milady,” states Oliver in a rather patient manner, quite unlike his general manner toward me whenever I’ve chosen to be difficult over the centuries.
Cait simply glares him down with the steely nerves of a seasoned Celtic warrior, not so different from me in my human days. “I’m not staying in the bathroom, not for some unknown length of time, and not with you. It may be big, but it is not that big by any stretch of the imagination, Oliver.” She walks around the side of the bed, slipping her hand under the pillows, and pulls out a significantly large, sheathed knife. “Well, well, this must be what he’s been hiding. How does he sleep with that under there?” Cait pulls it out from its leather sheathing, revealing a quite sizeable, Fae-forged steel blade
, guard of scrolled Avalon gold, its handle elegantly designed with deep walnut and green-speckled sprite stone.
“We do not concern ourselves with luxuries of comfort, Lady Hayden. Protection of our wards is paramount to all else.” He steps toward her, reaching out for the weapon. “My brother meant me to hold that, not allow you endanger yourself.”
She laughs. “For a dragon, a Goddess worshipper, you have a low opinion of my abilities.” With a flick of her wrist, she tosses the knife, recapturing it, holding the blade flat along the underside of her forearm where it would be hidden from view if it were a smaller blade. “The handle is larger than what I’ve practiced with in the past, and it’s not quite as balanced, but I’m not unfamiliar with some armed hand-to-hand combat techniques. My uncle taught me a lot more than manners, propriety, and all those high-society social skills women need. It probably saved my life when I was attacked.”
Oliver says nothing, but I recall the reports from court in detail, each word. “I saw no mention of a defense against your attackers.”
Cait approaches me, anger in her eyes, the knife still in her hand. “No. There couldn’t be, my king.” Complementing her sardonic tone, she gives an exaggerated curtsy, bold blue eyes challenging me to reprimand her for the disrespect. “I broke your precious laws. A vampire wanted me. He wanted to feed on me, wanted me to submit to him in every way, and I refused. I fought back. I wasn’t willing to be the perfect submissive human female you desire, Corrin, the one that you’ve tried to cultivate us all to be.… It nearly got me killed, and if Mr. McCurdy wasn’t such a good attorney, I would have been in your courtroom for far worse charges than failure to comply with the gender-specific laws regarding dependent welfare.”
I cannot look at her, cannot meet her eyes, shamed by what I have done and by the failings in my leadership. No king. Unlearned. A child.
“I have harmed you in many ways, unknowingly, yet as your king, your care ultimately falls to my responsibility. A true leader considers the ramifications of their actions upon their people, the good done, the harm caused; however, my reign has been for my own benefit, to see my subjects fall prostrate before me, to succumb to my power… and to submit to my desires.”