Chapter 7 #2
The dragon turned, its attention locked on the old man. In four massive strides, the monster crossed the clearing and plucked Marcel off the ridge with a taloned foot. He bellowed, beating his fists against the dragon’s scaled skin, but the winged monster’s grip was iron.
I yanked the bloodstained arrow from my quiver and drew. I knew it was hopeless. Knew there was nothing I could do against the beast, but it didn’t matter.
A cold breath of wind kissed my cheek as I found my target. “Make it count.”
The arrow hissed through the air and sank between the red scales on the dragon’s neck.
It roared and jerked its sleek head around, its golden eyes locking on to me like twin suns.
Fuck.
I leapt over the ferns and raced down the slope toward the basalt outcrop. The dragon tossed Marcel aside, then lurched forward, cutting me off from the crevice in a few thundering strides. I shuffled backward, but it cornered me slowly and deliberately against the base of the slope.
The beast raised a claw, then snapped off the arrow, glaring at me in challenge. All my instincts screamed to run, yet something unspeakable held me there.
Every inch of the beast exuded raw power and wrath, but it didn’t strike. A haunting intelligence burned behind its golden eyes, and it tilted its head, watching me with lethal curiosity and—if I wasn’t mistaken—annoyance.
The king commands it. Would it be able to understand me?
I slowly raised my hands. “Killing the beast was a mistake.”
The dragon let out a low, threatening growl that trembled through me.
Oh, yes. It understood me.
“Please—”
The dragon took two steps forward and leaned in close, the heat of its muscular body warming the air between us. Beads of sweat pearled on my chest as it tilted its head and slowly opened its mouth as if it were tasting the air, deciding if devouring me was worth the trouble.
Gods help me.
A low rumble built in its chest. Not a growl but a purr born of fire and want that left me breathless and shaking as I waited for its jaws to snap shut around me.
Instead, the dragon nosed me as it drew in my scent, the damp heat of its breath enveloping me as its mouth moved close to the exposed expanse of my neck, and then down my body, its movements gentle and precise.
It was—sniffing me.
I let out a whimper, and the dragon drew back with a low, smoky chuff, as if it found my fear amusing.
A musket shot rang out, and the beast recoiled. Its head snapped around to the ridge above the clearing, and for a second, I saw Gregoire ducking behind the trees. The dragon released a sharp, reverberating snarl that rocked through my bones and took a single step in his direction.
The Fates slapped me to my senses, and I darted forward, slipping under the dragon’s belly and sprinting toward the outcrop, terror driving me on.
A thundering reverberation shook the ground beneath me, but I didn’t dare look back.
The crevice was just five more paces, and the closer I got, the narrower the opening looked.
Please, Gods, let me fit.
Heat grazed my back, but I kept going, lungs screaming and feet tearing into the ground. Without slowing, I angled my body sideways and slipped into the crevice. The rough stone scraped my chest and behind, and my backpack wedged between the rocks.
Panic flared as I tore my arms out of the straps. It slipped free, and I shuffled further into the crevice where it widened into a larger space. Chest heaving, I glanced back at the opening as an ear-splitting roar rumbled through the stone.
A flash of scales and black leather moved, and then a single golden eye appeared, watching me.
I glared back at it. “Begone, you bastard!”
A low, rumbling chuff escaped its throat. Not only did it understand me, it was toying with me. If only I had another arrow.
Turning, I searched for an escape, but the narrow crevice offered only a single exit. If the dragon decided to send a stream of flame into the gap, I’d be dead.
I scooted backward until my spine hit the far wall, my lungs burning. The dragon released a snarling hiss, then pulled away.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Please go. Please let us live.
The ground shook, and wings thundered overhead. My breath shuddered. Had it really gone?
Suddenly, Marcel screamed.
“No.” I lunged for the gap and pulled myself into the daylight.
The monster was aloft on black wings, Marcel clutched in its claws.
“Come back!” I shouted, but the dragon flew on. I hauled myself hand over hand up to the top of the basalt outcrop. “Marcel!”
The dragon banked west toward the fading light, its ebony wings billowing like sails. For a heartbeat, it slowed, then plunged into the canopy. Trees thundered as they crashed to the ground, and seconds later, the beast rose again, another body writhing in its clutches. Gregoire.
A scream boiled up from my aching chest. “Come back, godsdamnit!”
The dragon released three sharp, guttural barks, then soared up over the trees and toward the towering mountains in the north.
A sob broke from my throat. Marcel.
He was gone. Gregoire was gone. The rest were dead. I was alone in the cursed woods.
My jaw locked, and the tears that had gathered didn’t fall.
The dragon dwindled against the bleeding sky. Those golden eyes. That impossible power. The fire coiled within its jaws. How could it have been real?
I shielded my eyes, tracking it until it vanished. Why take them? Why not devour them where they stood?
My gaze settled on dark spires rising in the shadow of the mountains, and the truth came cold and merciless: the Dragon King.
They were his now.
Resolve settled over me like the shadow of winter, and my quaking hands stilled. I’d find his castle, and then, Fates willing, I’d get my companions back.