Unexpected Mate (Dragon Goddess #2)

Chapter Thirteen

M y magic warned me seconds before a soldier tried to tackle me from my left side. Without slowing my run, I ducked, sending the assailant sailing over my head. I thrust my blade upwards, slicing across the top of his thighs to sever his tendons. He screamed in agony, but he would live.

I sprang back to my feet, only to have another attacker rush me from the right, his sword drawn and raised as he prepared to bring it down on my neck. Tucking my wings against me, I rolled and slammed my body into his knees. He tumbled to the ground, trying to keep his grip on his weapon; a wasted attempt since moments later I slammed the hilt of my sword into the back of his head. He went limp under me as I shoved his body off me and blurred toward Draven again.

He wasn’t trying to get away; he wanted me to reach him, but he wanted me tired and weakened. I didn’t want to admit how drained I was feeling after dividing my energy. I was keeping my magic trip-wires around me as a warning system, but I could only spare enough to alert me about the few feet around me. Hopefully, it gave me enough of an edge to survive this day.

I braced myself as two men tried to tackle me at the same time. Ducking and dodging, I managed to avoid the bulk of their impact, but the force still sent us all hurtling into the ground. I had lost a sword in the collision, but I still clung to the other. I rolled to the side, trying to get myself out from under the soldiers’ crushing weight. Flinging out my hand, the hilt of my sword connected with a sickening thud against the one man’s temple, and he dropped like a box of rocks.

The second man wrapped his hands around my neck, cutting off my air supply. I thrashed under him, trying to kick his family jewels, and when that didn’t work, I clawed at his hands with my pointed nails. His face tightened in pain, but he didn’t let up. Out of options, I stabbed him with my sword, it’s thin edge cutting through him like jello. His hands left my neck, and he groaned as he clutched at his side. Warm blood flowed across my hand and my stomach heaved. I hadn’t wanted to kill Draven’s followers; I wanted to hand them over to their leaders for trial.

Stop being an idiot. The fantasy world you have created in your mind doesn’t exist. These men made their choice; they’re not innocent. Your mission is to defeat Draven before his evil spreads, at whatever cost necessary. Stop wasting energy trying to disable these goons with non-lethal injuries .

I staggered back to my feet, stumbling for a moment as my ankle wobbled again with my weight. Darting my gaze around, I realized that twelve men were circling me, while Draven moved toward me, no doubt waiting to jump me once I was subdued by his mercenaries.

Not today, Satan. Not today.

A blade sang as it flew through the air. Spinning, I kicked out with my boot, sending it hurtling into one of the men. Two more blades were thrown at me in rapid succession. I whirled, spinning as I jumped again, slamming my boot into the blades and lodging them in my attackers. I winced as I landed, but thankfully my bone was healing and the pain had dulled.

One of the mercenaries rushed forward, throwing punches with his meaty fists. I was surprised at his speed given his size, and he managed to catch me in the ribs and my shoulder as I dodged and kicked. I gasped for air as he knocked the wind from my burning lungs. A second man used that moment of distraction to rush forward, grabbing my wing. My stomach churned in disgust. No one touched my wings except my mates.

I roared in outrage, trying to yank it free, but he held on and moved to grip the bones above and below the last joint. A sickening crack was followed by pure agony ricocheting through me.

I had been trying to conserve as much of my energy as possible for my showdown with Draven, but at this rate, I would be too weak to fight him. We had worked so hard, and it had been for nothing. I was strong, and I could easily take down several highly-trained supernaturals in a fight. But these odds would have been impossible for any supernatural, male or female, and especially one who wasn’t at full power.

It was time to put out or shut up. My parents had helped me escape the night this monster murdered them, but I would not run or cower this time. Never again. I was a goddess - a baby one with very little control of her powers, but a freaking goddess nonetheless.

I screamed out every bit of fury, feeling the ground quake under my boots, and the dragon fire in my chest began to spread through me. My tattoos began to pulse, the sapphire color changing to the colors of fire. Heat began to swirl around me, creating a spinning vortex that kept me in its eye as I moved.

The surrounding men had frozen, either in fear or awe. Draven’s lust-filled eyes locked with mine. It wasn’t a lust for me; it was a lust for the power he craved. I released my hold on my energy, and allowed it to merge with me, knowing I had precious little time to finish this before it was expended completely. It would replenish with rest and time, but that wasn’t going to help in the middle of a battle. This was basically the equivalent of powering up in a video game and rushing to finish the level before the extra ability’s time ran out… except this was real life, and the fate of the world was kinda hanging in the balance. No pressure.

I lifted my fists into the air, and then quickly brought them down to my side as though smashing a table. The men around me found themselves tossed onto the ground like rag dolls, the force creating craters around their bodies. Not a single man groaned or moved; I wasn’t sure if they were alive or dead, but I couldn’t allow myself to care about that right now.

Draven remained standing, apparently the only supernatural besides me to be able to use magic right now. I focused solely on him. Moving my palm, I held it between us in the universal sign to halt, quickly slamming my other palm against the back of the first. Energy shot from my palm, striking Draven with a force that flung him to the ground. A smile made its way to my lips as I heard the crunch of bones.

Staggering back to his feet, his lips moved as he spoke under his breath. The ground beneath my boots shook and shifted, swiftly turning from parched dirt to quicksand. Ignoring this impressive trick, I continued walking toward him, my vortex lifting me up with care and setting me down smoothly on solid ground. Draven’s eyes widened in shock for a moment, and then he began whispering again.

Wind ripped across the clearing, gathering dust and debris into the air as it circled like a predator. I knew the instant it found me; the wind changed from a dust cloud to a spear as it shot toward my chest.

My fingertips slid along the side of my personal tornado, petting it like a beloved dog. It danced between my fingers and I let my energy begin to flow out into the vortex, the two swirling around me like playful dolphins. The spear impacted against the side of my windy cocoon. My energy sizzled along the length of the spear, my vortex whipping it around before hurling it with the accuracy of a sniper. All this happened in the blink of an eye. Draven was expecting me to fall; he didn’t even realize the spear had been redirected until it pierced his chest.

This time, he did not get back up. His hate-filled eyes glared up at me as I accessed his injuries. The spear had dissipated, but the gaping hole in his chest remained. Blood pumped out at a rate that even I knew spelled certain death. He struggled to breathe, each breath making a wet suction sound.

“I may die today, but so will you.” He began choking, his blood soaking into the ground.

Lightning crackled and time seemed to slow as the bolt shot toward me. When I was fully powered, nearly everything seemed slow to my dragon, but weakened as I was in that moment, the lightning had already grazed my skin by the time I reached out and grabbed it. The last remaining dregs of my power wrapped themselves around my organs, protecting me as much as possible as the electricity sizzled through my body. It singed a path through me and then bounced around like a pinball in a machine, damaging everything that wasn’t encased in my waning energy.

When the smoke cleared (actually, it didn’t clear since I was literally still smoking) Draven was staring at me in absolute shock. I was still standing, and I was holding a lightning bolt. The latter happened more by accident, rather than being a conscious decision..

“Such power is a waste on you,” Draven mumbled. “I could have done great things with such a gift.”

I snorted. “You would have released more evil upon the world, and destroyed the humans and the supernaturals.” Leaning closer to him, I whispered: “My heart is not my weakness, it is my strength. You will not kill me today.”

I felt myself growing weaker, my body struggling to repair the damage - a challenging task without my magic to assist. This had to be finished. Slowly, I shifted my grip on the lightning rod and then brought it down. Draven still managed to garble out a last few words before the rod pierced him.

“You may not die, but it is too late for your mates.”

The rod slammed into his heart and electricity jolted through him, not stopping until the ground beneath his body was charred and black. I fell to my knees, unable to stand any longer. It should have been a moment of elation; Draven was no more, the evil was defeated. Instead, I was frantically searching the clearing for my mates.

For a moment, relief welled up inside me. They were still alive, scattered around the clearing and covered in blood, but alive. Only three or four of Gregor’s men still stood, and my heart ached at the losses the wizards had been dealt.

A cruel voice echoed across the clearing to where I was slumped on the ground: “Finish this and then burn their bodies!”

A bloodcurdling scream tore from my raw throat as the soldiers lifted their weapons.