Chapter 14 #2
“Malcarion,” he spat. “The bastard tried to destroy the portal soft spot with curse-runes millennia ago. The magic backfired, scorching the entire saddle into a kiln and leaving a jagged opening that can no longer close. We are dragons. We don’t have the kind of ability needed to create gateways into other realms—”
“Then how did you?” Race bit out, barely sparing her a glance.
Koal shrugged. “Since the portal was already opened, we waited for the change of guards, except we camped out there, unseen, until it happened. It’s how we learned they work on rotation.”
“And your return?” Race demanded.
Koal glanced at Attor, then shrugged. “An old Fire-Scribe burned the portal runes into our flesh. Blood is the cost—every time it’s used. If Malcarion discovers the order still exists, he’ll take their heads.”
Race’s features remained stony, and Ash shifted on her seat, growing uneasy. With no idea what to do, she changed the conversation. “It’s still incredibly strange for my Earth-trained mind to comprehend a six-legged creature. Animals on Earth are all four-legged.”
Koal gave her a sideways look and smiled. “We have both here—”
“Yo, Koal?” Skaldr called, and Ash looked up.
She’d forgotten about that shifter, slouching on the mossy log, his back against a tree. She thought he was sleeping off his injuries.
“At least your efforts won’t go to waste, eh?” he drawled. “Your apology for the female is perfectly burned and just in time, too?”
Ash frowned. “What?”
Skaldr lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug. “Koal was a little deflated when you left earlier, female—”
“Shut up, Skaldr, before I draw and quarter you,” Koal grunted, shooting the shifter a quelling look.
“Skaldr,” Attor rumbled. “Caution would be wise.”
“What?” Skaldr raised an eyebrow, looking almost angelic. “I’m passing along what he said. Ash should know the hare was his way of apologizing for not moving his ass faster when she got scared and yelled.”
Then the cocky arse smirked.
Race’s jaw clenched, and Skaldr laughed.
If only he knew the truth. Race might have marked her, but there was nothing between them. He made that pretty clear. Skaldr was barking up the wrong tree.
So, she didn’t bother giving him the satisfaction of a response in his stupid game.
“You shouldn’t have, really,” she told Koal. “But thank you. It’s just as well, I am rather hungry.”
“Oh, good.” He turned the hare, the fat sizzling over the flames. “It’s almost ready.”
Race said something to Attor, then, without so much as a ‘I’ll see you soon or next century’ to her, he strode into the forest.
“He said to take care of you,” Attor said quietly, drawing her attention away from the trees. A furious warmth burned her face.
She kept her attention fixed on the roasting hare.
“And we will,” Koal added, his sharp features softening as he studied her. “Most would have crumpled after being dragged through a portal and released into this gods’ forsaken world. But you did well.”
Ash blinked at him, not sure whether to laugh or cry with her emotions all over the place. “Yeah, well, I’m not most. Stubbornness is about all I’ve got going for me.”
A faint smile tugged at his mouth then faded. “Just be careful where you point that stubbornness, Ash. Some fires can’t be controlled once lit…”
Did he mean Race?
“But stubbornness is what kept many of us alive,” he continued. “My parents had it too. Malcarion’s rebels raided and then burned our village to the ground—took them both. My brother was twelve. They cut him down before my eyes.” His expression darkened. “That’s the day I swore I’d never bend.”
Ash’s chest tightened at his pain. “I’m so sorry.”
“It might have been a long time ago, but you don’t forget that kind of brutal slaughter.” He shoved more peat into the fire, his copper eyes dull.
Trying to ease the tension, she said with a trace of wryness, “For the record, I don’t bend either. Just…occasionally, maybe, twisted out of form.”
Some of the shadows in his eyes lifted, and he chuckled. “Then maybe you’re stronger than you think.”
For the first time in days, Ash let herself breathe, and she even managed a little smile in return. But just as fast, the band around her chest cinched again, her thoughts straying to the vexing black dragon.
Where had he gone off to in such a hurry?
Race stalked through the forest, each stride harder than the last, as if distance could dull the fury clawing at him.
His dragon pushed under his skin, restless. Go back. She’s ours.
Jaw clenched, he raked both hands through his hair, snagging them in his braid, and exhaled hard, the taste of her still lingering on his tongue. Her blood. Her heat. Her damned defiance.
He’d bitten her, marked her—now she sat with Koal, her final choice.
A snarl ripped free, scattering birds roosting in the trees. He braced his hands against the rough bark of a trunk, his claws threatening to burst free. His body wanted violence, his dragon demanded blood—the whelp’s blood—and all he could do was stand here, choking on both.
Because she was right. He was just her protector.
He hauled off his clothes, tossing them aside, then released the beast within. Wings erupted, talons tore through flesh, and his roar shattered the afternoon silence. The urge for blood and violence consumed all thought except one. To kill.
The forest reeked of prey. A herd of long-horned stags bolted at the sight of his shadow, but his dragon was faster. He struck with his talons, then his teeth. Blood sprayed across the leaves and down his throat, hot and coppery, but it did little to cool the fire inside him.
He landed and fed, tearing through flesh until the silence of the forest settled heavily upon him again. Morphing back into his human form, Race stalked to the lake and dove into the icy water, letting it scour away gore and rage alike.
Much later, he waded out, braiding back the fronts of his damp hair from his face, the motions mechanical, but his thoughts never quieted. He dematerialized to where he’d dropped his clothes in the forest.
Dressed again, he returned to the cave, the pull to find Ash driving him hard.
He found Attor and Skaldr still seated outside, the former leaning against a tree trunk, eyes shut, the latter chipping at a piece of wood.
The pit’s fire was now banked, the roasted hare gone, and his gut clenched at the thought that she had eaten her meal with the whelp. But there was no sign of Ash or him.
Where the fuck were they? Did he take her back to the stream?
His dragon rumbled. She’s here—
“If you’re looking for the female…” Skaldr continued chipping. “Koal took her inside.” He nodded toward the cave.
“You just have to stir up shit,” Attor grunted, eyes still closed.
Race shut out Skaldr’s jab and strode for the cave’s narrow entrance.
He slipped inside—
A blinding red rage detonated through him, hot and absolute.
The whelp knelt over Ash, who was spread out, like a fucking offering, on her coat by the fire.
“You didn’t have to do this,” she said, her voice husky.
“I had to,” he responded.
Race saw nothing but the enemy he was about to tear apart.