Chapter 22 #2
Esme took the knife from Hannah and tucked it into the side of her dress against her ribcage. “It must always touch your skin to keep you safe. You must always keep it with you.”
“Thank you.” Hannah gave Esme a solemn smile, then turned back to Taggart.
“Taggart, reveal the mark for all to see.” Isla tipped her snout toward her son.
Reveal the mark? What mark? Hannah arched a brow at Taggart. She didn’t know if she liked the sound of that or not. Just what did revealing it entail? After a glance at the expectant faces, she backed up a step. “Reveal what mark?”
“Shh, easy now, m’love. Watch.” With a reassuring smile, he caressed her cheek with his thumb, then bent closer and blew a warm breath along the base of her throat and bare décolletage while tracing his fingertips along behind it.
Dark whirls and icons of an intricate, ornate script appeared across her skin.
Much like a tattoo. Black-patterned writing.
It felt as though it started at the base of her left ear, flowed down her throat and collarbone, and ended right between her breasts.
Another mark, a black outline of a Draecna in flight, appeared on her right upper arm close to her shoulder.
She eyed the markings, blinking twice at the artistry appearing on her skin. “What is that?”
“My mark.” He opened his shirt to reveal identical symbols on his chest.
“I never saw this before.” She touched his markings, then ran her fingertips across hers, frowning at the raised edges running across her flesh.
“It is only visible if we wish it to be. Like today,” he explained.
“Beloved Guardian and now my daughter, this sacred mark of joining is Draecna tradition,” Isla said.
“We Draecna only mate once. That is why it is called Eternity’s Mark.
This is how Taggart implanted his DNA into your system so all know you to be his.
It is irreversible. There is no question of fidelity with him.
” Isla expanded her chest with pride and smiled at her son.
Its meaning made Hannah feel more loved than she ever felt before. She eyed Taggart, suddenly wondering what else he hadn’t told her. At least with her extended lifetime, she had an eternity to discover all his secrets.
He looked more pleased and proud than she ever remembered.
Isla looked over the couple’s heads to the gathered Draecna. “Do those gathered here accept the proof of Taggart’s mark?”
In unison, each Draecna in the room lifted their snout and blasted a brief burst of flames.
“Taggart of the bloodline of Cair Orlandis, your proof has been accepted.” Isla nodded in his direction and raised a golden brow when he failed to move. “Taggart?”
“William!” He hissed to the young Draecna sitting on the pew closest to the platform.
“Now?” William jumped as though Gearlach had just elbowed him in the ribs.
“Yes, William, now.”
William stumbled up the steps and planted a good-sized rock in Taggart’s outstretched hand. “Sorry,” he mumbled, turned back around, and tripped back to his seat.
“Bless him.” Hannah inwardly cringed as his scales flashed a bright shade of red. Her poor little Draecna, younger and more innocent than all the rest, he was having such a hard time growing up.
Taggart crumbled the rock and revealed two polished bands of a dark, lustrous metal. He slid one of them on her ring finger, smiling as it fit perfectly. “Draecna steel. Indestructible and pure. Just like my love for ye.”
The metal warmed around her finger and sent a surge of energy pulsating through her.
Fingers trembling, she blinked back the tears as she reached for the other ring and slid it on Taggart’s finger.
As the ring settled in place, she lifted her gaze to his.
“I never thought I would ever be happy again. I don’t know how you found me. But I am so very glad you did.”
Taggart leaned forward and accepted the gift of her kiss just as the ceiling exploded.
Taggart pushed Hannah to the floor and covered her.
“Septamus!” he roared as chunks of the cavern rained down all around.
He couldn’t see through the clouds of exploding crystals.
Another blast shook the platform as he assumed his Draecna form.
Wings outspread, he shielded her from shards of gemstones pelting down like hail.
“How did they get into the caverns? I thought we were safe here?” She clung to him, cringing as debris bounced off his wings and covered the floor.
He flinched as a large cluster pegged him right between the wings. Enraged fury filled him. Sloan would die as painfully as possible for choosing this day for a reckoning.
“Taggart?” She thumped his chest, then hugged him tighter.
“I canna say how he found the stronghold, but I ken verra well why he chose this day.” He arched his back, lifted his head, and released his blaze.
With a sweeping arc of blue flames, he welded together the loose bits of what was left of the ceiling.
“That should hold long enough for William to get both of ye to the shelter.”
“I am not leaving you.” She bared her teeth and wriggled her dagger out of her dress. “I owe Sloan big time. Do you think I’m leaving here without a fight?”
“William!” he bellowed without taking his eyes from the furious gaze of his wonderful mate. By all the gods, she would go to that shelter with young William even if he had to paralyze her with a catatonic spell and toss her across the lad’s back.
“I am here.” Panting and glancing all around, William ducked as a boom echoed from a lesser cavern deeper to the north. “I will not fail ye. Tell me what ye wish me to do.”
He placed Hannah’s wrist into the curl of the youngling’s front claw, then closed it.
“Take your mother to the shelter. Dinna come out until I come for ye, ye ken?” He paused, staring down at her tiny arm swallowed up by the lad’s clawed hold.
His heart clenched. She was so delicate.
So fragile. She had to be protected at all cost. He refused to contemplate living a moment without her.
“Keep her there, William. One of us will come for the two of ye. Make certain ye dinna open the door for anyone lest ye know ye can trust them, aye?”
“The others have gone to fight the intruders.” William looked toward the tall narrow doors dangling halfway off their hinges.
“I know.” He gave the boy a proud smile. “I am glad ye stayed here as ye were taught. Ye did well. It is yer duty to lead the sacred Guardian to the shelter. Keep her safe. I must join the others to fight off the intruders.”
“No,” Hannah said. “William, you to go to the shelter, but I intend to stay and fight at Taggart’s side. Release your claw. I promise I will be just fine.” She squirmed, trying herself free, then scowled when William shook his head.
“No, Mother. Taggart has given me a direct order, and it sounds as though ’tis for yer own good.
” William tugged while encircling her with a wing as he tried to edge them toward a curtained off alcove in the room's side.
“Come, Mother. The shelter is safe. We must make the passage before another volley hits and seals off the corridor.”
“Good lad, William. Take her there no matter what she says.” Taggart urged him onward, waiting to ensure they made it to the passage.
“I said I am not going!” She planted her feet and latched hold of Taggart’s wing with her free hand. “I can stay and help you fight. I am an immortal now, remember? I am not leaving here without you.”
He touched her forehead with the tip of his claw and rendered her limp as a child’s rag doll.
“I love ye, my dearest one,” he whispered.
He caught her up and draped her across William’s back.
He closed her eyes and pressed a tender kiss to her temple.
“I will come for ye when it is safe. Until then, ye must stay with William.” He hated to leave her, but he couldn’t bear the thought of her facing Sloan.
With a nod to William, Taggart rose up and spread his wings. “The spell will render her motionless and silent for but three days, lad. Hopefully, I shall be back to save yer poor hide before she recovers and regains her speech.”
“I will take care of her. I swear it.”
“I ken ye will, lad. May the gods and goddesses be with ye.”
“How many still live?” Sloan pressed a finger hard along the rim of the crystal wineglass, relishing how much the squealing sound mimicked the whimper of a victim in pain.
“Gearlach is the only confirmed Draecna dead, my lord. The Waerins placed his head on a spike outside the tents as you ordered. I have not bothered to count the villagers. I figured you didn’t give a care about them.
” Corter ran his thick tongue across his bulging lower lip while ogling Sloan’s glass of wine.
The blood-red liquid swirled in the long-stemmed glass.
Sloan studied it, frowning as he pondered Corter’s report.
“You mean to tell me we have only killed one of those bloody beasts? What seems to be the problem?” They had blasted the caverns for a solid three days.
They should have mangled more of those monstrosities than that.
“Are those abominations truly that difficult to kill?”
Corter didn’t answer. He stood hypnotized by the ruby-red temptation swirling in Sloan’s glass.
“Corter!” Sloan threw the wine in the man’s face. “There. Now that you have enjoyed your wine perhaps you can answer my question. Why is Gearlach the only Draecna casualty?”
After swiping the back of his hand across his face, Corter sputtered while licking his lips. “Draecna are not the easiest beasts to kill. We can only end their lives by sending one o’ their own to do it. Has something to do with that friggin’ magic what flows through’em.”
“You promised me the power of the Waerins was just great. Assured me their abilities would secure the safety of my throne.” Sloan tired of this bothersome game.
His castle lay in absolute ruin. And the tent he used while following battles was less-than-adequate.
He enjoyed his luxuries and was utterly done with the constant noise and grime of this mess.
It was high time they all gave up and died so he could return to his accustomed standard of living.
“A Waerin is no match for a Draecna, m’lord.” Corter backed closer to the flap of the tent and ducked as Sloan lobbed the wineglass at his head.
“Then you had best figure a way to trap more Draecna to use against each other. Must I tell you every step to take? Remind me why I allow you to live?” Sloan paced across the length of the tent, scuffing his slippered feet against the thick carpet.
“I am bored with this battle. I want Taggart filleted and gutted and the Guardian impaled on the poles in front of Tiersa Deun. Is that understood?”
With a cowering nod, Corter edged his way through the heavy flap of the tent. “Understood. I shall see that it is done.”