Werewolf's Way [Chronicles of the Shifter Directive 1] (Siren Publishing Epic Romance, ManLove) (2 page)

Still, he’d never been one to give up easily. As one of the dragon-shifters flew closer to the ground, ready to sweep Stuart up, Graham threw himself into the air, landing on his opponent’s back. His momentum almost made him fall, but with an angry snarl, he dug his claws into the draechen’s back. The beast’s thick hide protested, but Graham was angry and determined. When he managed to get a better grip, he dug his fangs into the dragon’s neck. Suffice to say, it was like biting onto, well…dragon scales. He had no chance to actually tear off the creature’s throat, like he’d have done by now with any different shifter. However, he did manage to distract it, and Stuart escaped. As the draechen began to soar, obviously meaning to incapacitate Graham in a way he couldn’t possibly combat, Graham leapt off the beast’s back and onto the ground. Sadly, the distance between him and freedom was higher than he’d hoped. A werewolf he might have been, but he couldn’t expect to have his skin and bones nearly indestructible, like certain other shifters. He ended up falling against a hard rock, and pain exploded through him as he actually heard the bone of his leg snap.

Stuart ran to his side and nudged him with his snout, whining slightly. Graham shifted back into his human form, trying to force his bone back into place. The agony that rushed through him nearly made him black out but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to withstand it.

As he got up, though, a black dragon landed just within view. He had a wolf in his hold, trapped and seemingly unconscious. With one single glance, Graham identified the shifter in question as Taryn.

He couldn’t allow his brother to suffer the same fate. “Go,” he told Stuart. “Protect the pack. I’ll get out of this somehow.”

Stuart obviously didn’t want to abandon him, but there wasn’t much choice. They were severely outnumbered, but that wasn’t surprising in the slightest since the very first laws the draechen had passed had aimed to control the then-increasing population of the werewolves and vampires.

It had worked far too well, and now, here Graham was, standing alone and surrounded. Through the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Monroe disappearing into the woods. For a few moments, he hesitated, obviously wanting to return to help Taryn, but as more and more draechen appeared, he finally melted into the undergrowth. Graham was thankful for that much, and for the fact that his brother had seemingly obeyed him. At the very least, someone would be there to look after his pack until he could return.

As if guessing his thoughts, the large draechen holding Taryn placed him down. Once several other dragons landed around Graham, Taryn’s captor shifted into his human form. “I have to say, wolf,” he commented idly, “you’re more optimistic than I would be in your situation. Don’t make your people promises you can’t keep.”

Instantly, Graham recognized him. He should have probably done so sooner, as the man had been the bane of the werewolves’ existence since before Graham could remember. Prince Shtamakarein Tersain, the most important military figure of the Ornozian Empire, other than the draechen emperor himself. Graham’s people called him the Dog-Catcher because he was so very dedicated to rounding up each and every werewolf and controlling them at all costs. Vampires avoided the man like he was sunlight. He almost seemed to have a personal vendetta against the lower castes, as he proved time and time again.

Still, Graham refused to cower. “I suppose you think you’re very clever. Well, you might have caught me, Prince Shtamakarein, but my people will endure.”

The draechen snorted. “I’ve lived to see the day a werewolf holds speeches. I tire of your barking. Grab him.”

Upon his order, all the other draechen fell upon Graham. He tried to fight them, but somehow, one of them managed to jar his still-wounded leg. It took everything in Graham’s power not to cry out in pain, but there was nothing he could do to keep himself aloft.

As he fell to the ground, Shtamakarein crouched in front of him and pulled Graham’s hair, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Oh, and rest assured that I have no plans to kill off your people. Just to put them where they belong. In cages.”

Graham knew he shouldn’t have let Shtamakarein get to him, but he couldn’t help it. Howling in fury, he attempted to launch himself at the draechen prince. He didn’t get far before the draechen soldiers subdued him once again. The last thing he heard before he succumbed to the darkness of unconsciousness was the sound of Shtamakarein’s cold words. “Round them up and take them to the mansion. My father will be pleased.”

* * * *

A few days later

“Do I really have to go, Mother? You know how much I loathe it there.”

“Don’t whine, Caelyn.” Britanni
Sutharlainn brushed the kohl-rimmed tip of the stick she was holding over Caelyn’s eyelids, lining them with the substance. “
It’s not an attractive quality in a young man your age. And yes, you have to come with us. Your absence would be considered a grave insult by the draechen. Besides, you’re at the ideal age to find a mate. We can’t waste this chance.”

Caelyn grimaced as she finally finished applying his makeup. He really had no desire to visit the draechen. It wasn’t that he didn’t respect the most powerful shifters in the world. Of course he did. In some ways, he admired their strength. But he also disliked their treatment of the lower castes. Whenever he went there, he was always struck by how much worse the situation had become since the previous visit. Unfortunately, he could do next to nothing to change things, and while he realized it was cowardly to just look the other way, he truly hadn’t managed to come up with any other solution.

Besides, his mother’s ongoing quest to elevate their position in paranormal society could very well force him into a mating with a draechen who wasn’t his other half. Caelyn dreamed of marrying his true mate, and the last thing he wanted was to lose that dream because of his family’s hunger for power.

Before he could even try to explain this to his mother, the door burst open and his sister stalked inside in a flurry of silk skirts and strong perfume. “How much longer is this going to take?” she asked in a huff. “We’ll be late.”

“Patience, Deidre,” Britanni said. “Your brother is nearly ready. We’ll be off in five minutes.”

The rest of Caelyn’s family slowly started to trickle into his room. First came his two brothers, Iasan and Cormac. “You look beautiful,” Iasan told Caelyn. “You’ll sweep them off their feet.”

Cormac grinned and wiggled his brow. “But then, we already know how popular Caelyn is with the draechen.”

They probably meant it as a compliment, but Caelyn winced. He didn’t want to draw attention onto himself in any way, but knowing his luck, one of the draechen would try to bed him again. It was another reason why Caelyn hated visiting the dragon-shifters. Each and every time, someone tried to seduce him. He knew he was almost uncommonly pretty, even for a sprite, but it still made him uncomfortable.

“Thanks,” he told his brothers nevertheless. “You’re very handsome, too.”

As if their comments hadn’t been enough, his father,
Pádraig, showed up as well, already scowling at his mother. “Would you stop fussing, woman? He looks fine. If he were any prettier, the draechen will think we cast a spell on them. He’ll find a mate the moment he steps through their door.”

“Well, I’m sorry for wanting my son to make the best possible impression.” Britanni huffed. “All right. Come on, everyone. We’re going to be late.”

Caelyn could do nothing but to reluctantly follow in their tracks. A helicopter was already waiting for them outside the mansion they were using for their stay in the United States. In all honesty, Caelyn would have much preferred to remain in Europe, where they usually lived. Hell, even the Great Krites’ court would be better. But Caelyn didn’t have a choice. He never did, and it horrified him to think that one day, he might have to submit to their decisions and actually mate someone they picked. But no, in that regard, Caelyn wouldn’t budge. He was merely picking his battles. There was no point in fighting with his family over a mere visit to the draechen prince’s home.

Caelyn and his family slipped into the helicopter and found seats inside. As the aircraft took off, Caelyn was spared of any further conversation by the noise of the engine. Absently, he glanced outside through the window, wondering what he’d find at this famous party.

His mother claimed the draechen emperor himself had thrown it in celebration of a certain, unknown triumph. The idea actually unsettled Caelyn, because whenever the draechen won something, it was a bad sign for the rest of the world.

As sprite nobles, Caelyn’s clan often received invitations to important events for the paranormal community such as this one. For good or ill, the sprite nation of Elusia had remained closer to the draechen than other magical creatures, fae included, so Caelyn was used to it. Nevertheless, for some reason he couldn’t fathom, butterflies started to flutter their wings madly in his stomach as they approached their destination. He blamed it on his mother’s earlier behavior, but for some reason, he couldn’t be sure it was the case.

Finally, the imperial residence of the
Tersain family loomed ahead. Well, one of them at least. The draechen had countless homes all over the world. Unlike humans, paranormal creatures weren’t limited by geographical borders. Their domination spread out through each and every person, surpassing the artificial limitations humans had created.

This particular mansion was located in the United States of America, very close to Sacramento. There were countless other residences the Tersain used, some of which they never opened to guests. As the helicopter landed in the courtyard of the house, the sensation of anxiety and discomfort solidified inside Caelyn. He didn’t want to be here, and yet, he did. He had a feeling there was something very important he had to do here.

His father opened the door to the helicopter and hopped out. As his brothers followed, they assisted his mother and sister in their own descent. Caelyn came last, still lost in thought. He felt like something or someone was calling out to him, but he couldn’t fully open himself to that call.

“Caelyn,” Iasan told him, “come on.”

Snapping out of his trance, Caelyn followed his family out of the vehicle. Outside, he saw that several draechen had gathered to meet them. His father was greeting a woman Caelyn recognized as the oldest draechen princess, Akarawem.

“Welcome,” she said, smiling. “My brothers extend their apologies for not having been here to greet you in person, but they have a great deal of responsibilities that keep them away from most honored guests.”

Was it Caelyn’s impression or did her gaze linger on Caelyn more than on the rest of his family? What did it mean? And why did his mother look so put out? Of course the princes were involved in many other activities. It was an honor that their sister had come to greet them. Why wasn’t she pleased?

“We understand,” his father said nevertheless. “We are, as always, very grateful for the invitation.”

Akarawem gestured them toward the entrance of the building. “As you know, a very important date is coming up, the commemoration of the Great Sacrifice. Normally, we hold a private ceremony as a reminder of the terrible battle that day and the great warriors who gave their lives so that we can have freedom and order. Today, however, my father believed it best to organize a little gathering, both to honor that day of mourning and as a celebration for a recent military success.”

The entire paranormal world marked the Great Sacrifice, although Caelyn did wonder sometimes if the men who’d died for them would have been happy with the end result of their actions. Still, he had no way of saying that without sounding rude, so he remained silent.

The princess led them into a large waiting room, decorated with items that, in one way or another, made a reference to the Great Sacrifice. Of chief importance was a painting depicting the two warrior princes who’d made all the difference in the world in the fight against the original vampires and werewolves, Talrasar and Kaelezrin. There were many illustrations of the two men together, but this one was particularly daring. Speculation still abounded as to whether or not they had been lovers, but the painting in question left no room for debate. The draechen prince, Kaelezrin, was holding the fae Talrasar in his embrace, their figures rapt with love and agony.

As his parents spoke with the draechen princess, Caelyn continued to look at the painting. He wondered what they had been thinking at that time. He wondered how many other men had died in this war, and would never be painted. Most of all, he asked himself why a love like he saw in that painting had to die.

“Do you like it?” a sudden voice said behind him.

Caelyn turned, only to find himself facing draechen prince Shtamakarein. It wasn’t the first time he had met the other man, and while he could always acknowledge Shtamakarein’s handsomeness, he’d never quite felt comfortable in the prince’s presence.

Shtamakarein was renowned for his cruelty and ruthlessness in the treatment of the lower castes. He was the commander of the Ornoz armies and General of the Chrysalidian Wyverns, a unit specialized in hunting down rebel werewolves and vampires. The idea of what that job implied made Caelyn shiver. He didn’t like judging people because of rumors, but this time around, he suspected that they were, at least, partway correct.

Even so, the draechen prince didn’t scare Caelyn. It might have been because he looked so similar to the man in the painting, his ancestor, Prince Kaelezrin, or something else entirely, but Caelyn found himself replying honestly, “Yes and no, Your Highness. It’s very sad.”