Chapter Twenty-Four
Farren
“R ight, let’s get you healed,” Loki states, looking down at the wound as the others surround the two of us protectively. “If he smells your blood, fresh like it is now, and linked with the pain you’re in when he shifts fully, I have a feeling that all hell is going to break loose.”
I just watch Reaper, completely fascinated and not wanting to take my eyes off him when Loki’s words filter through though I get the instinctual feeling that he’s right, and Reaper would lose his shit even more.
“Okay,” I reply simply.
“Good, guys. I’m going to need two of you to help her stand so I can get to both sides at the same time and heal her quicker. Is that okay, Farren?”
“Yes, that’s fine. Is Reaper going to be okay?”
“He’ll be fine. It’s everyone else I’m worried about,” Mayhem replies ominously.
Storm and Rival help me stand up, and I’m only vaguely aware of Loki healing me.
The only thing I notice is the pain level dimming.
Suddenly, Reaper bursts out of his skin with a growl that can surely be heard for miles and standing in the place where Reaper once was is an absolutely ginormous fucking dragon.
He towers above the trees, taking up most of the clearing.
The talons on his four giant feet have to be the same length as me and at least as wide as I am.
The purple, red, orange, and black scales glitter in the light and cover his entire body, all except the enormous leathery wings extending from his back.
Without any hesitation, he lets loose a stream of fire, and I can feel the heat from all the way over here.
The purple flames hit the nearest assassins and burn them to ash, the act knocking some sense into the others as they start to scatter.
The next stream of fire, he lets loose his red, and this one seems to wrap around the victim and hold them in a slow burning, and torturous death.
“We better go further back. He's focused on them at the moment, but he won’t recognise us in this form, and we don’t want to get in his way.” Storm orders grimly, and I find myself gently moved further into the forest and I stay peeking my head around the nearest tree so I can still see.
His dragon is clearly bored of playing with fire and is now swallowing the retreating assassins whole or stomping on them.
“How?” I ask, “The dragons stay in their realm, they don’t mix with the rest of us, and all the information we have on them suggests that they only come in certain solid colours. I have never seen the colours of Reaper's dragon depicted anywhere.”
Storm sighs, “I suppose I can share this much with you. He’s a hybrid.
I’m not sure between which species because he’s never shared that, but I have a good reason to believe that he’s a mix of the stronger and more dangerous dragons.
Hybrids are extremely rare and are not only frowned upon but persecuted and treated worse than slaves.
Somehow, he escaped, and Killian and I found him. ”
“Fucking hell,” I mutter.
“Last time he transformed, we barely got him back, he rampaged for days, and many people died,” Rival sombrely adds.
“And his dragon is angrier this time, he’s protective over Farren, and he’s seen her hurt and collapse,” Loki adds.
My gaze moves from the rampaging dragon for the first time, “So you’re saying we could not get him back?”
They share a look, and then Killian nods once sadness seeps from his end of the bond.
My attention goes back to Reaper like a magnet, something I can’t control, “There’s got to be something that we can do.”
“We won’t leave him. That’s about as much as we can do for now. Hopefully, he’ll just tire himself out, and we can reason with him,” Mayhem suggests, but I can hear the scepticism in his tone.
“That might’ve worked if he had let his dragon out regularly, but it’s been years. He’s got a lot of energy and most likely anger to work out,” Loki grimly answers.
They carry on talking around me, each of them trying to suggest different things that might work and coming to the same conclusion that it will fail every time.
I won’t let it, I won’t let him get lost in his beast. So, I carry on watching as his dragon stomps and eats his way through our enemies hoping for something to jump out at me on how I can help.
My magic nudges me, slowly replenishing itself.
I follow my instincts and let my magic out to play.
It immediately rushes towards Reaper, but instead of coming into contact with him, it pauses and takes him in.
Through my magic, I get the feeling of profound sadness coming off of his dragon.
I know it's his dragon and not Reaper because he feels different. I don’t know how, I just know that.
He's also angry, and I feel my eyes start to water at the overwhelming loneliness he feels.
I call my magic back to me, and it reluctantly leaves him.
I’m going to help him even if it kills me, and he’s capable of that, but considering how angry he is that someone hurt me, I don’t think he will.
I glance back at the others, all of whom are in deep conversation.
I twist slightly, checking my stomach muscles and back from the wound, finding myself entirely healed.
Before any of them can stop me, I race forward, aiming for the rampaging dragon.
“Farren, he’ll kill you!” Storm yells after me, the panic loud in his tone.
“Let her go. I have a feeling he won’t harm her,” Killian replies calmly, and I pause, looking back.
“You know, like a feeling, or you know?” Loki asks, looking like he’s seconds away from grabbing me.
Killian just smiles knowingly, “Trust me.”
“And trust me, I know, I don’t know how, but I know he won’t hurt me.”
Storm crosses his arms, frowning deeply, and all of them look the same.
They hate this, but I will not lose him, and I will not let his dragon remain so lonely.
Knowing that they’re seconds away from stopping me, I rush forward again, trying to avoid the bodies scattered on the ground.
Reaper's dragon still hasn’t seen me, and I need to get his attention somehow so he doesn’t accidentally stand on me or hit me with his giant tail.
I have every faith that he won't kill me on purpose, but accidentally is another thing.
It turns out I don’t need to worry about getting his attention. Since, as I go to step over a body, one that I thought was dead, it reaches out and grabs my ankle, sending me to the floor with a thump and a yell of surprise and Reaper’s head snaps in my direction.
I hear one of the others groan from behind me, and I have to admit that probably could’ve gone smoother than it did.
Quickly jumping to my feet and sending my magic into the guy that grabbed me to kill him, I watch as the dragon stops stomping his feet and destroying things and then starts lumbering towards me, his heavy feet shaking the ground.
I quickly raise my hands, trying to show him that I’m okay. “Whoa! Whoa there, handsome, I’m okay, not hurt, see?” I hold my arms out so he can see all of me, “But I won’t be okay if you don’t slow down, you’ll squish me.”
“Did she just call him handsome?” I hear Loki ask incredulously.
“Of course, she did. It’s Farren. When faced with a murderous and out of control dragon, why wouldn’t she call it handsome?” Rival replies drily.
I tune them out, ignoring that they actually have a point, and at the very least, I should be feeling nervous, but I’m just not.
Thanks to my magic that has sent feelers out at the still approaching dragon, I can feel his confusion that I’m not running away and that I don’t seem to be scared of him. He doesn’t quite know how to handle it because he keeps bounding towards me.
“Farren, he’s not going to stop!” Mayhem yells, panicking when I don’t move.
“For fuck sake, Farren, move your gorgeous arse!” Storm yells.
I ignore them, planting my feet and refusing to move.
He comes skidding to a halt just in time.
He blows a hot smoke filled breath at me in a single huff, and this time I have to use my magic to stop myself from being blown over by the sheer force of it.
When the smoke clears, and I’m still standing there, grinning like a fucking crazy person, he tilts his head, studying me like I’m the rare and unusual creature, not him.
My smile broadens, “Are you done trying to scare me off? I think we both know you won’t hurt me.” I take a gamble with my words and raise my eyebrow, and I almost laugh out loud when he huffs and glances away. “That’s what I thought.”
He lifts his lip in a slight snarl, and I chuckle at the lack of real anger behind it.
When it’s clear he’s not going to frighten me off, he huffs again like I’m exasperating him and flops down, so he’s lying down.
He still towers over me, but he puts his head on his massive feet like a dog would and watches me.
“He’s laid down. The fucker has laid down,” Loki exclaims, utter bewilderment in his tone.
Incredibly slowly, I move closer to him. He doesn’t move, but watches me cautiously. So he’s not surprised by anything I do. I talk to him while I’m moving.
“Is it okay if I touch your nose?” I ask, and when he doesn’t do anything, I add, “I’m going to take that as a yes.”
I slowly reach my hand out, placing it on his snout right between his huge nostrils.
He tenses slightly, and then his eyes widen as I just gently stroke his nose, marvelling at the silk-like texture.
It occurs to me that if he’s only been free a couple of times in his life, and some of those were while he was still in captivity, then he won’t know what soft touch feels like, and that breaks my heart.
“You’re beautiful. You know that?” I say softly, “And so sad, I’m so sorry.”