They heard a screech above them as the ground shook. Bran had scored a hit on Brian, driving his head into the rocks. The two massive forms wrestled across the slope without looking their way.
Catori frowned. Leland was right. They could never outrun a dragon in human form. She could morph, but Leland couldn’t. How would they escape? An explosion sounded off to their right, and their eyes swung toward a mass of people fighting nearby.
The Paladins.
They’d advanced around the side of the small mountain, no doubt looking to surround the underground cavern and cut off any escape routes. Dragons swooped up into the sky to escape. Every now and then, one wouldn’t make it and fall to the ground, too injured to continue its flight. Dozens of them filled the sky and jetted off in all directions. Some even went north, but there was no predictable pattern to their flight.
“Leland, we have to go. The dragons are retreating. It won’t be long before the Paladins make it here. When I morph, you must ride on my back. Hold on as hard as you can, because I’m going to have to book it.”
They fell to their feet as another sonic boom shook the ground. The yelling Paladins had spotted them and were coming in masses to attack them and the two dragons wrestling behind them.
“Okay!” Leland urged her to hurry, and she let out a breath. She had never morphed fully before, not even before she’d been taken. She didn’t think now was the time to tell Leland this. She had never breathed fire or flown on dragon wings either. It was now or never. For her, it literally was fly or die.
Her skin glimmered as scales began to form. The cracking of bones and stretching ligaments made her tense and drop to her knees, screaming in agony.
“Catori!” Leland approached her, but she held her hand up as her body changed. She shook her head, and he waited, watching her achingly slow transformation into a moderately sized, bright red-orange dragon.
A moment later, panting and weary, Catori stood with her wings stretching out and her long, pointed teeth flashing in the moonlight.
“Catori? Are you okay?” Leland asked, afraid to approach her. This monstrous beast was frightening but also the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life. “You’re… wow, you’re really a dragon.”
She bowed to him and moved a wing down while glancing back toward the brothers fighting not too far from where they were standing. A snort reminded him to hurry, and he carefully closed the distance between them and pulled himself onto her back. He found a gap between her long, sharp spines and sat. He held onto the spine in front of him for support; there were ridges all along it that pressed into his palms, but they did not break through his skin. Once he was straddling her, he tightened the straps of the backpack, made sure the messenger bag was still secure across his chest, and leaned forward.
“Okay, ready!”
She turned, began to run the rest of the way down the hill, and spread her wings. The span was impressive, and the roar of the wind hit Leland as she ran, flapping them roughly. Her feet floated off the ground for a few seconds before she touched down again, hard, nearly tumbling from the speed. Leland felt the force ripple through him, digging into his bones. He grunted but held on for dear life.
“Come on, Catori! You can do it!” He turned to find the red dragon pinning the green one down but eyeing them. Gaining speed once more, Catori finally managed to shoot off the ground and into the air, flapping her wings to gain altitude. They climbed and climbed, and every beat of her large, leathery wings took them farther and farther away from the mountain.
Just as the red dragon on the ground was about to deliver a fatal blow to the dragon under him, one more blast shook the ground, and the entire mountain exploded in a spray of boulders and fire, high into the sky. The shockwave flung the red dragon off his brother. Bran managed to get a hit on Brian, knocking the red dragon down before jumping into the sky to follow them.
Brian didn’t move until the Paladins were merely feet away. Upon awakening, he shook his head to clear it, finding he had just seconds to escape. One Paladin flung a spear at the red dragon, embedding into his shoulder. He roared in pain before jumping into the air and flapping his mighty wings and disappearing behind the far side of the mountain.
Leland watched as a cloud of dust covered the group of Paladins. The explosion rained dust and debris across the desert, and they had barely escaped the blast. Bran had only been saved by his brother’s body. The well-armored back of the red dragon had taken the brunt of the explosion. Bran followed a good distance behind them, exhausted and possibly injured.
Leland watched as the last of the dragons shot upward and feathered out into all directions. A few headed their way but broke off before reaching them and disappeared in the clouds.
There was no sign of Brian. Leland wondered if he had survived or had fallen dead on the other side of the mountain. And what about Fenwick? Was he one of those dragons disappearing into the sky?
Soon they were alone, traveling at the cloud line to hide from human and dragon alike. They flew north until Catori could not fly anymore, and she touched down in the forests somewhere in what Leland guessed was Manitoba. The landing was rough; Catori was exhausted. She could barely move after transforming back into her human form.
They held on to each other for warmth. After patrolling the sky for another hour, Bran joined them and built a small fire to help stave off the cold until morning.
When the sun rose, they ate some of the rations from the backpack Bran had given Leland and gathered wild berries. While Bran limped as he helped, he never complained about the bruises and cuts peppering his face and body.
Another few hours and they would be in Alaska, searching the islands for the northern tribe. But what would they find there? A rival tribe bent on destroying them, or the open arms of an ally?
They kept their eyes on the sky to see if they were being followed, but nothing appeared on the horizon. They hoped to find some shelter, but as the snow began to cover the ground, Catori turned up her heat for the benefit of both her companions. Bran was depleted and would need time to recover. They knew not what awaited them in the frigid northern Draconis kingdom of Valdar.
Want more?
Book 2: Arcadian is coming soon in
A Legion of Dragons Anthology
Coming March 2018
Acknowledgements
I want to thank Michael K. Rose for all his input and help with Lucidium. I couldn’t get this story on paper without his constant support. Thank you! This also goes out to all my awesome readers again. I can’t do this without you! Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Every word, every story…it’s for you!
About the Alexia Purdy
Alexia is a USA Today Bestselling author who currently lives in Las Vegas and loves spending every free moment writing or hanging out with her four rambunctious kids. Writing is the ultimate getaway for her since she's always lost in her head. She is best known for her award-winning Reign of Blood series, and A Dark Faerie Tale Series.
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More books by Alexia Purdy:
Wicked Grove Series:
Wicked Grove
Renegades
The ArcKnight Chronicles:
ArcKnight
Sovereignty
Reign of Blood Series
Reign of Blood
Disarming (Reign of Blood #2)
Elijah (The Miel Chronicles):
A Reign of Blood Companion Story
Amplified (Reign of Blood #3)
A Dark Faerie Tale Series
The Withering Palace (A Dark Faerie Tale #0.1)
Evangeline (A Da
rk Faerie Tale #0.5)
Ever Shade (A Dark Faerie Tale #1)
Ever Fire (A Dark Faerie Tale #2)
Ever Winter (A Dark Faerie Tale #3)
The Cursed (A Dark Faerie Tale #3.5)
Ever Wrath (A Dark Faerie Tale #4)
Without Armor (A Dark Faerie Tale #4.5)
History of Fire (A Dark Faerie Tale #5)
Ever Dead (A Dark Faerie Tale #6)
Legends of Fire (A Dark Faerie Tale #7)
Guardians (A Dark Faerie Tale #8)
Other Stories
The Fall of Sky
Papercut Doll
Poetic Collections
Whispers of Dreams
Five Fathoms
The Dark I Keep
Anthologies
Soul Games
Faery Worlds
Faery Realms
Faery Tales
Lacing Shadows
Destiny’s Dark Fantasy
Once Upon a Curse
The Shapeshifter Chronicles
Once Upon a Kiss
A Plague of Dragons
Sneak Peek:
Hades: Modern Descendants
By: Elda Lore
fall-
the river
[Persephone]
“Jump in, Persephone!”
The scream hurled out of me long before my body hit the ice-cold river below. Anticipating the shock, my mouth released a noise somewhere between horror and laughter. The first bite of the river was so sharp, my breath caught in my throat. I instantly opened my eyes to a sea of darkness. Knowing I wasn’t upside down, I pushed toward the thin shimmer of light and broke the surface. Swimming in the river bordering our property late at night wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but the late summer heat was oppressive to us. “Us” being my cousin, Veva; my guy friend, Swanson; and me, Persephone Grace Fields.
I spun in circles, sweeping my outstretched arms through the river, letting the brisk shards of ice water nip at my overheated skin. Even the night air hung heavy and hot for late September. Swanson and Veva tread water a few feet away, near the steep embankment edging the river. Swanson Grant was the teaser in our group; lighthearted and easy going, it never bothered him his two best friends were girls. Veva, on the other hand, with her chestnut hair and turquoise eyes, was a striking beauty of curves and curses. She could turn a tease to a tempest in a heartbeat then return to a smile in seconds. Their laughter cut through the night noises of chirping cicadas and rustling leaves. To the east was my family’s property, to the west stood an imposing forest that my mother didn’t like us to play near when we were children. For all intents and purposes, we were practically skinny dipping, as our sheer undergarments hinted at what lay beneath and it felt a little naughtier since we were no longer children. At twenty-one, a late night swim with my two best friends didn’t seem dangerous. A bit risky maybe, but we were too familiar with this section for any real concern.
However, as I made my way back to my friends, I had the strangest sensation of someone watching us. No, me. My skin prickled and my laughter faltered as I peeked over my shoulder toward the forest side of the river. Suddenly hyperaware of all that could be seen through my wet bra and underwear, I lowered back into the cold stream, swimming slowly toward Veva and Swanson, when the pull to look again stopped me. I froze. My back hunched. My head tilted to listen. The hairs on my neck were suddenly dry and tickling. I scanned the tree-line again.
My mother warned about the evils that lurked within the forest. As a child, I took it as a means to frighten Veva and me, making certain we steered far from the temptation to cross the river for the woods. As a result, when I grew older, I never believed her tales, although I’d heard rumors of a youth who wandered among the trees on the darkest of nights. There was even one story of how a group of local kids caught the creature. I always felt a bit sorry for this strange being. If he wished to roam the dark forest, let him be. A tingling awareness of being observed stopped my rambling thoughts.
There. Among the thicket of trees, I vaguely made out the shape of a being. An outline of someone tall and lean. My body twisted to face this intruder. My mouth fell open to scream, but something stopped me. A sense that I wasn’t threatened. My eyes squinted, trying to make out the form. Was it a man? As I didn’t believe in fairy tales or mysterious creatures of the night, it had to be. The size was too large for a woman, too straight-lined to be feminine. The possibility of a hood led me to rule out a bear or other type of animal. Shaking my head at the idea of a bear, I stepped forward in the cool water. It was only waist deep where I stood, and this exposed my wet-bra covered breasts to the potential peeping Tom. I didn’t worry that he would see anything he shouldn’t in the dark of night, despite the thin material clinging to my firm, rounded skin.
My advance seemed to give him permission to step forward. For the briefest moment, he stood clear of the trees that hindered his shape. On the edge of the river stood a figure dressed entirely in black. I was correct that a hood covered his head, and his hands reached to remove the covering. His hair was so dark it blended with the night, but his eyes nearly glowed in the span of distance between us. My breath caught at their piercing inquisition.
“Persephone, come on.” Swanson’s call broke the bond between me and the dark figure, who instantly stepped back into the woods, shielding his outline, but his presence still clear to me. He definitely continued to watch me. My skin shivered and I spun back to my friends, sensing the weight of unseen eyes. The need to turn back tugged at me, and my eyes shifted left and right as I slowly trudged to our side of the river. My body felt like it struggled against an undertow, yearning in opposition to the direction I moved. Each step grew slower, heavier, as my feet fought the mucky bottom of the river. I hated touching that gooey substance with my toes, feeling the mud squish between them. My body squirmed at the sensation and the magnetic pull broke. I turned quickly, sensing my observer had vanished. My eyes squinted, searching for his form between the dark trees.
“Come on, Persephone. It’s almost midnight. You know your mom will freak if you aren’t home, and we need time to dry.” Veva’s lyrical voice teased despite her concern. Neighboring farms, her mother and my mother were sisters. Aunt Hera was practically a second mother to me, and nearly as strict as her sister, my mother, Demi.
“She’ll be fine,” Swanson argued. “She never gets in trouble. The princess can do no wrong.” He knew I hated to be teased with that royal title, and yet he loved to taunt me. Swanson’s family connection included working on our farm, monitoring the livestock, particularly hogs. His family had worked with mine for centuries.
Swanson’s tall length allowed him to easily exit the water. He turned to support Veva with an outstretched hand. Veva reached for Swanson and placed her other hand in a scrawny bush protruding over the water’s edge, as if it wished to take a drink. Her fingers caught in the twigs, so although Swanson tugged her upward, Veva’s trapped hand held her back. Releasing Swanson’s hold, she fell toward the river, her body scraping against the harsh bush.
“Veva!” I reached out in a belated attempt to catch her.
“Ouch!” Her cry echoed along the river and I rushed forward to inspect my friend. I noticed sharp scratches against her nearly naked back.
“Oh Vee, your back is all scraped up.” My fingers gingerly traced down her back.
“This is going to hurt,” I prefaced, before cupping water in my hands and rinsing down her shivering spine. Veva growled in response to the cleansing.
“My mother’s going to kill me if she sees these.” Veva made a fruitless attempt to peer over her shoulder at her own back then ignored the sting and reached up for both of Swanson’s outstretched hands. He pulled her effortlessly from the river and I took one last glance behind me. My watcher had disappeared from view, but the impression of him lingered in my mind. He’d haunt the edge of my dreams tonight.
I took the giant step necessary to leverage out of the cold water, bracing my feet
on a natural ledge of soil and rock. Pressing my hands on the hard, packed surface, I hoisted myself over the river’s edge. Refreshed, but nearly naked, my body trembled even though the nighttime temperature remained in the eighties. In the deep Midwest, summer held on, but the quiver was more than the air.
“My, you’re a sight, Persephone,” drawled the thick timbre of Tripper Grant, Swanson’s older brother, and someone suddenly vying to be a fourth to our threesome friendship. Tripper didn’t have interest in us as children, being three years younger than him. Newly returned to the farm at twenty-four, the arrogantly handsome flirt focused his attention on me. Shielding myself the best I could, one arm crossed over my wet breasts and the other cut across my stomach acting as a fig leaf to cover the area which held Tripper’s stare. I might have looked like Eve struggling out of the garden, the way my hands fumbled to cover me. The innocent intention to hide myself seemed to increase Tripper’s interest, enhancing his focus, making me feel exposed despite my feeble attempts to cover myself. While Tripper’s attention flattered me, it also unnerved me. My body shivered with distrust.
Off in the distance, lightning struck the field, illuminating upward in a crooked, fluorescent purple pitchfork. Moments later, thunder clapped. I bent for my jeans, struggling to slide my damp legs into the still-warm denim.
“Don’t cover yourself on my account,” Tripper’s voice oozed as he approached me.
“She needs to get dressed and get home,” Veva worried, but she had more to concern herself with if Aunt Hera saw those scratches. Still fighting the denim of my jeans, I didn’t bother to button the waist. Another bolt of light shocked the earth. A gentle vibration under foot rocked the ground.