Loving Two Dragons (Awakening Cycle Part 3) (BBW Dragon Shifter Paranormal Romance) (6 page)

Chapter thirteen

Archer

The dragon is in control. I know what I'm doing. I see it. I feel it. I can't stop it because I don't want to. We don't talk about this state. It's taught in whispers, never out loud, never in public.

We are creatures of two natures, our human side and our dragon side. Control is taught to us from the moment we exit our mother's womb. It's ingrained, reflexive, the natural state. No one wants to admit that we can lose that control. That the animal side, the dragon, can take control. Then the human side, your conscience, is trapped. Lost inside yourself.

I snap at Marathe, massive teeth closing, almost I have her but she disappears just as my jaws close. Frustration roars out of me shaking the walls.

Pain. Something hits my flank. My long neck allows me to look behind without turning around. Remy stands with his hands thrust forward as another purple bolt shoots from them.

"ARCHER! NO!" he yells.

My roar pushes him back against the wall then I'm running at the windows crashing through. Falling. My wings spread out seeking the currents, flapping, gravity pulls hard as they beat against the air trying to find purchase. Muscles strain to overcome the laws of physics until an updraft catches under and I'm flying. In moments I'm above the clouds and soaring south.

I bend the space between my destination and myself. An instinctive ability in dragon form, inherent to our magical nature and part of how we avoid discovery. I'll be over South America and my target in moments instead of hours.

Our Queen!

The dragon speaks to me conceding that small respect. Or I think it. No one has lost control like this in my lifetime. It's a rumored state, mystical and mythical at the same time. Am I the dragon? Are we one or not? My purpose is his purpose. I will rescue Jennifer. I don't care about philosophical questions.

I let the fold in space go and my target is below. The pyramid hidden deep in the jungles. They run as I approach. The time for subtlety is over. Inhaling I gather air then exhale a long stream of blazing fire. It hits the running men and they ignite as well as large sections of grass and the jungle. A Gold's breath weapon is a thousand times hotter than napalm and just as adhesive.

Alarms are sounding. Parts of the temple slide aside and guns emerge from the new openings. One is bigger than the rest, that's where the defenders will come. The guns aren't meant to stop me, they're a distraction, putting flak into the air but not able to pierce my scales.

Banking around I inhale again melting one of their turrets. Positioning will be key, when the first defender emerges I'll need to attack him before he can get airborne. Block their exit and keep them from achieving overwhelming numbers which is their best hope. I climb higher and higher. Wind whips against my face, shrapnel explodes against my flanks, my wings push me up.

There's movement in that exit just as I judge I'm high enough. I fold my wings in and drop, gravity takes hold relishing its grip on my body pulling me down fast. A defender's head, neck, and front legs emerge. He looks up at me just before I hit and there’s fear in his eyes. I spread my wings wide, the force of the air slamming against them creates a popping sound. My teeth clamp down on his neck and I tear, shaking my head side to side as hot blood fills my mouth. He screams but there's no hope for him.

Another defender behind him tries to force his way past his compatriot but is blocked. I let my grip go and breathe into the opening. Hearing their cries makes my heart sing. They took Jennifer, they took Logan, let them feel my wrath!

I climb back up into the air leaving the dead soldier to block their exit. As I gain altitude, some of the defenders leave the temple in human form and shift. Four of them are climbing into the air. Now a true battle will be engaged.

A song plays in my heart, singing of battle and of death. If I cannot save her this time then I will end this cycle with my own blood spilled. Let this be my final stand if it must, but my wife and my friend will know freedom before I fall!

The roar of my challenge causes my attackers to pause. Seeing their hesitation I drop towards one of them. Extending my claws as I drop, I pull up at the last minute raking across his back but the other three are a well-trained unit. While my attention is on one, they come at me from all sides.

Burning pierces my scales and the first drops of my blood fall to the ground. It does nothing to slow me only further infuriates the fire inside. Where my blood hits the ground it sizzles and ignites any tender close to it, causing small fires to start around the earth below us.

My four opponents retreat and begin a game of feints and dodges. If I extend myself to catch one of them the other three connect with tooth or claw. Small wounds begin adding up so I climb higher retreating. They follow as I climb higher and higher. The air grows thinner and two of them are unable to maintain their ascent but still I fly. My wings grasp at the shreds of air. The sky around us darkens as I continue the climb and then there's only one well ahead of the others. I whip around, folding my wings, dropping towards him like a bullet.

The shock on his features is apparent as I slam into him. I hit with such impact for a moment everything is black with a dim awareness of falling. Shaking it off I attack, claw and tooth, seeking any purchase. He's frantic, scrabbling. My ears fill with the rush of air going past and the sound of scraping on scales, then my teeth find purchase at the base of his neck and he's mine. One twist of my head and a satisfying crunch. I spread my wings catching the air and my enemy falls broken to the earth below.

"ARCHER!"

A voice booms through the air cutting through the dragon, the rushing air, the pounding of my fiery heart in my chest. I wheel around and come face to face with Dracul in his full dragon form. A giant red dragon only slightly smaller than myself he is covered with the scars of thousands of battles. He's one of our greatest warriors. Flying up beside him is all of the Council and they surround me.

"You must stop, now, this is unauthorized and a breach of territory!" Dracul says.

I roar. "They killed her!"

I don't wait for him to answer. I have one chance only. The Kings of Dragons surrounding me are not run of the mill soldiers. Against one or two of them I might win but not the full assembly. Fast as light I whip towards Dracul, if I can get his neck, I can force the others to stand down.

Pain - stabbing - shocking - my muscles won't respond. Everything stiffens refusing my commands. Everything is going gray.

I whip around, writhing, trying to find my way free but the shocking sensations tighten around my body forcing me into a smaller and smaller space. My wings close and I'm falling. The ground approaches closer and closer until I slam into it creating a crater around my impact. Still the shocking and stabbing pain continues until I have no choice but to shift forms as it continues to squeeze me.

As I shift, bolts of purple electricity play over my form. The smaller I grow inside the bolts they begin to take on a shape until at last I'm a man in a cage made of glowing purple energy. I'm at the mercy of the Council.

***

Failed.

Silence reigns as I'm wheeled into the Council Chambers, bound in chains that wrap around my torso. Others bind my arms together and there's a hood over my head. I'm on a cart to allow them to move me easily. One wheel squeaks breaking the quiet.

Acid builds in my stomach, replacing the warm fire with a sick ache.

Close. I was so close. It doesn't matter. She's dead. Again.

This will break the cycle. If I can negotiate Logan's release, he will be there for her when she returns. My chest constricts at the thought but my mind opens with the idea. He'll care for her. They'll be happy. Maybe they can have a child again. A family.

The cart comes to a halt as a smile spreads across my face. The hood is ripped from me. I blink at the bright lights assaulting my eyes after the darkness. The Council is seated before me. I look down at the chains I'm bound in, purple magic crackles along the links, I'm on my knees before them. Something breaks inside.

"Archer Ddraig, King of the Golds," King Dracul intones. "You have broken your trust. The trust given you by this Council, by your people, by the nature of what you are and through that the trust given us by the Founders.

Your actions brought us to the brink of war. This Council is assembled to pass judgment on you. Discussion has been held. Before there is a final verdict, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

I snort then try to rise to my feet. The crackle of magic rips through the air as the chains constrict pulling me down to the cart forcing me to bow before the Council. I strain against them but only hints of my inner fire flicker refusing to be fanned into life. I cannot break free. I stop struggling and the chains relax allowing me to straighten but not stand up.

"This Council is being played. Some among you know it. Some among you are more than a pawn in this game. White is trying to awake the Ancients. Green is working with my half-sister. The only question is where do the rest of you stand? Will you tolerate being pawns in a bigger game or are you Kings and Queens?"

They stare at me with poker faces. The Kings and Queens of all the Clans except White. I stare at White's empty chair. Are they behind all this? Is Marathe working with them? Or is it Green?

"Archer Ddraig," Dracul says. "There is no reasonable defense presented for your actions. You stand accused of betrayal of your oaths. To this Council and to your people. If you are found guilty, you will be stripped of your crown and banished. Council, a vote is required."

I look to each one of them. Do I have any allies left here? They refused me before and now they stand in judgment. No face looks friendly.

"Green?"

"Guilty!" Manco says the word with relish, his green eyes flashing with inner fire as he smiles.

"Silver?"

"Not guilty," Cyrus says softly, his Queen nodding beside him.

"Black?"

"Not guilty."

Two no votes? If they tie then Dracul will have the deciding vote, he's an ally. I might get out of this! I look to Blue, pleading with my eyes.

"Blue?"

"Guilty."

"The Council is in a tie. The Chairman votes," Dracul says standing up as he prepares to deliver his vote. Hope springs in my heart. I'll have to find a way to rescue Logan but once that's done I'm going to kill Marathe. She's done this to me for the last time.

The door to the Council chambers slams open.

A short man with a taller woman next to him walks in. A stride behind them is Marathe. I try to leap to my feet intending to charge but the chains immediately constrict pulling me back down. They don't ease up until I relax. I rise back to my knees to stare.

The shorter man has crew cut hair that's pure white. His skin is so pale as to be albino and his eyes are pinkish. Sharp pinched features nod to each Council member as he passes. The taller woman has long, snow white hair that flows to mid back and an hourglass figure. Her face is perfectly symmetrical with a small nose and wide, pale gray eyes. Her skin is so clear that it seems translucent.

They make their way to their seats sitting down before the White banner. Marathe stands to one side of the table by White. No one speaks or moves, staring as if this might be an illusion or a trick. White has not attended the Council nor been heard from in over three hundred years. The man leans forward in his chair.

"White votes guilty."

Dracul looks at me with surprise evident on his face. The hammer in his hand rises and falls in slow motion.

"Archer Ddraig, you have been found guilty. You are hereby stripped of your Crown," Dracul says. "You will be set free once the Mark of Binding is set. You will be bound for one thousand years from assuming your dragon form. At that time you may petition the Council for removal of the Mark."

"Esteemed Chairman," Marathe says stepping out.

"Marathe?" Dracul makes her name a question.

"By right of blood, I lay claim to the throne of Gold as Queen Regent in the name of my son Mateas."

The Council mutters softly. Dracul stares at her and I leap again, the chains force me down once more. Everything in me burns to kill her. Dracul looks to one side then the other for any dissent but none comes.

"So be it," he says slamming down his gavel once more.

Marathe turns towards me slowly sashaying her way closer. She reaches out one hand and touches my nose with her finger. Pushing down the urge to snap at her I stare into her eyes.

"Check-mate," she says softly before turning back toward the desk and making her way to the Gold Queen's chair. She settles herself in smiling at me.

The cart jerks into motion. As the doors to the chamber close that smile is the last thing I see.

Chapter fourteen

Jennifer

I can barely force my eyes open. Why did I? The room is barren. My hands are cuffed with massive iron manacles as are my legs. The weight of them makes it hard to move my arms. Silence. All around me is quiet.

Rolling over is hard but I get to my knees. Logan is wrapped completely in chains and a purple energy plays along them. He looks up at me, starts to rise upright but the purple energy flares brighter and he's apparently forced back to a bent position. He grits his teeth and tenses his jaw.

Tears well up behind my eyes. I swallow hard and try to push it all down, away from me, but the moment I do I see Marathe standing behind Elise. The knife moves in slow motion and the flood gates open as my tears stream down my face pooling on the floor. Logan tries to move again but the chains tighten forcing him back down.

Blinking to clear my eyes he's straining to get closer to me but is unable. I can't seem to stand up either so I crawl over. I can't embrace him but I place my manacled hands against his face. Tears well in his own eyes. He tries to open his mouth and the purple electricity rips up from the chains across his face. As it passes through my hands they immediately go to sleep with a pins and needles sensation. Painful, but not debilitating. Logan's face though shows another story. His mouth opens and he cries out his pain without sound.

Click. The door swings open. I turn towards the sound and Marathe strides in with two men, one of them Brant. The grizzled veteran who had stopped some of Marathe's men from raping Elise. I don't think that makes him a friend though, he still works for her. I wait, letting her come closer.

She walks boldly up to us like she doesn't have a care in the world. I remain bent over next to Logan. Her feet come just inside my line of sight.

"Get a cart for him, I don't want those chains off until the Mark of Denial has had time to set to keep him from shifting again," Marathe says. "This one," she kicks at me and I move.

I grab the foot coming in and pull with everything I've got. It works! She goes down and there’s a very satisfying crack as her head makes contact with the floor. She makes a sound then is silent. I pull forcing her closer to me while also scrambling to move higher on her. Raising my manacles I swing them at her head wanting to end her.

My hands impact with something, not her head. I scream, struggle, trying to finish my blow but I'm tossed aside as if I'm nothing more than a rag doll. I land on my ass hurting my pride more than my body but the two men close with me. One of their feet hits into my gut and all the air is out of me in a single whoof. I gasp, my lungs scream for air but are unable to take any in. The need to breathe overrides any pain.

Another foot lands hitting my thigh, then my gut again. I double over bringing my hands up to cover my head. A thin wheeze of air slips into my lungs relieving the burning but allowing the pain of the blows to come through.

"Stop!" Brant says.

I can't straighten up. A stabbing pain in my ribs, burning with every breath I take. Curled in a fetal position I look over at Logan. He strains against his bonds, the veins on the side of his neck bulge, the chains move of their own accord, tightening more and more. I shake my head at him as tears flow. I can't see him in so much pain.

"It's okay," I whisper.

"It very much is okay," Marathe says lowering into my view.

She smiles as revulsion fills my stomach with acid. Bile rises in my throat, so close and I'm helpless.

"Get them all ready to move. I can't open a portal in the Green's temple. It's time to go home and claim my throne."

Her throne?
Panic floods through me and I look at Logan. There’s confusion in his eyes and he shakes his head.

I'm pulled to my feet and Logan is loaded onto a four wheel cart not un-similar to a wagon for a child but scaled to hold a man. Brant wraps an arm around me keeping me on my feet. He follows the wagon and we're led through the dimly lit tunnels of the Green temple.

Stone grinds on stone and a massive door slides down into the ground. Sunlight streams in as its seal is broken. My eyes burn at the brightness of it causing me to see stars. I blink rapidly trying to clear my vision. Each breath hurts, each step jars me, my eyes burn, and none of this overwhelms the emptiness in me. This pain is nothing compared to what I deserve for failing to protect my daughter.

I stumble. The ground races towards me but Brant catches me. I can't get my knees to lock and hold me up. There's no point in going on. As soon as he sets me up right I fall again. He grabs my legs and lifts me easily into his arms to carry me. I try to struggle because I feel like I should but I can't summon the will to put out that much effort. I just can't see the point in fighting anymore. The bitch has won.

We're marching across a clearing in the jungle. Large sections of the ground are charcoaled as if recently on fire, even some of the trees we march towards are burnt. The odor of the recent fire is heavy in the air. I note everything without really processing what I'm looking at. There’s a loud pop. Marathe must be opening a portal to take us where ever she wants us to go.

"STOP THEM!" Marathe screams over the sounds of battle engaging.

I lift my head to see what's happening. Brant sets me on the ground and draws his sword. He turns one direction and another but doesn't leave my side. I try to find out who is attacking who but all I can hear are the sounds of steel on steel and the occasional pop or fizzle of magic. Brant looks down at me then back at something.

He bends down and picks me up in a single motion and runs. I scream feeling my throat tear as I pour out all my pain and rage in that single, primal sound. He doesn't stop, bending his body over me and running. Suddenly everything is black and we're falling then he stumbles and I'm falling for real landing hard on a cold stone floor.

Shuffling sounds as I roll over to my knees. I force myself to rise up, to face whatever new threat is here. There’s the portal we must have just come through. From it comes flying Logan, cart and all, still bound in his chains. He's followed by Archer, then Remy, Sarissa, and then Lou!

As soon as Lou steps through Remy motions and the portal closes with a pop. Archer steps towards me, his sword still drawn, and puts it straight to Brant's throat. A trickle of blood flows.

"Who are you?" Archer says his voice low, dangerous.

"Brant," he says his hands up in the air, palms open.

"Why are you here?"

"Time to switch sides. My Clan is being used by the witch. I don't know why, I don't know how, but I know it's not right."

Archer's arm trembles making the sword point move up and down. At first I think it's exhaustion then I look in his face and see he's resisting the drive to kill Brant.

"Archer, he's okay," I say.

Archer looks at me. His face is solid for one moment then tears fall from his eyes. The sword clatters to the ground and he runs over and wraps me in his arms. Our lips meet in a bruising kiss but I don't care, I want to devour all of him. I want to wallow in his arms, finding any solace that he might offer.

"I thought you were dead!" he cries.

I shake my head, my throat tight. I force the words. "Elise," I choke. "She killed Elise!"

Archer pulls me tight and whispers soft words to me. Reassuring but unable to bring her back. I break down in his arms sobbing and gasping as the pain of it all washes over me once more.