Chapter 8 #2
I both flinched and bowed up. “Let me remind you, I have attempted to disable, destroy and hide the Chains of O. Once, I even dropped them inside a volcano after eruption. Always the shackles return to your family, perfectly formed, and always your family dons them. You included.” I huffed at him.
“Seems I’m not the only one too weak to resist their allure. ”
He worked his jaw. Well, well. Olyssa, finally on the scoreboard.
We reached the opening of the cavern, warmth pulsing from the enclosure, the air thick with sulfur and otherworldly power. Though we both bubbled over with anger, we peered inside as a team, ready to spring into action. Cloying darkness cloaked everything.
Taron dropped his pack and dug out two sets of earplugs, then handed a set to me. “If I recall correctly, the slightest noise can mesmerize anyone who dares enter. Better to hear nothing.”
And he knew this too. What didn’t he know about my world?
“According to our legends, any sound heard here does more than mesmerize. It warps minds.” As a child, my mother told me stories of those who entered and never exited.
“More than that, allegedly the warping traps a victim inside themselves, reliving an illusion of their greatest desire, so that they wish only to stay in the cave, uncaring as some dark force sucks the life from their bodies.”
He looked inside the cave, then at me. The cave. Me. “Shall I spearhead this mission too?”
“Why don’t we work together?” I grumbled. As much as I hated to admit it, he’d more than proven himself capable.
Stillness came over him, his gaze locked on me. He hadn’t expected my concession? Or was it the word “together” that made him hesitate?
Warmth spread over my cheeks as his stare heated. My breathing quickened, and I fought the urge to saunter into his personal space. “Quick. Tell me something terrible about yourself.”
He thought for a moment, never pulling his gaze from me. “I’ve been working to destroy the traveling stones in Ashmorra. Every door, really. That way, you can never enter my world again.”
I rolled my eyes. “As if I hadn’t already guessed that.” I mean, had the thought specifically occurred to me? Nein. But of course he worked to destroy the stones. “To get them all, you’ll have to grow wings.”
“Not if I can shoot a rocket into the sky.”
Oh. Ooooh. That was bad. Very bad. And smart. Diabolical. Yet my awareness of him only intensified. “Give me something worse.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. “I acquired an ancient rift cutter and with it, I can create a small opening into your realm, no matter where I am. It only lasts for an hour before I’m pulled out, but I’ve used it to take…” His words trailed.
“Take what?” I swallowed. “Who?”
“Three berserkers. Names Lorik supplied. Their deliveries were payment for certain weapons, but also…” He dragged in a deep breath, then met my gaze. Steady. Unafraid. Unrepentant. “But also practice. Preparation to face off with you.”
Ding, ding, ding. We had a winner. I knew the three men he referenced. Those who had vanished without a trace. I’d deal with the rift-cutter bombshell in a moment. “They were good men,” I grated.
“They were berserkers and dragons. Enemies to all humankind,” he grated back.
At one time, ja. “We haven’t invaded your land since the death of my father. Haven’t been a danger to humankind for centuries.”
“That’s not true. You were a danger to the men in my family every day of their lives,” he stated flatly.
I deflated. He wasn’t wrong. But he wasn’t right either. Maybe we should just address the other shocker, then end the conversation. “Where did Lorik get the cutters?” Something I hadn’t known about. And did the shifter king have another pair? I whipped out my phone to text Adelaide a command.
More security throughout all of Ashmorra! A team sent to raid Lorik’s armories.
“Those, I made using parts from different artifacts. They are one of a kind.”
Okay. I relaxed, but not much, and stored my phone in my pocket as soon as her agreement came in. If Taron had made the cutters, someone else could, too. If not now, later. They’d have to be dealt with. But one battle at a time.
“Your turn,” Taron muttered, his attention now fixed on my mouth. “Tell me something terrible.”
Easy. “Every minute since we’ve met, I’ve wanted to douse you in my fire.” The words slipped out without thought. At least I didn’t utter the rest: and make you my firebrand.
His eyelids dropped to slits, menace spilling over him. He shoved in the earplugs, snapping, “Let’s get this done.”
Good. That was good. Exactly what I’d hoped. An end to our little…whatever this had been.
Trembling, I stuffed the spongy plugs in my ears as well and peered into the darkness once again.
I might be a mighty berserkatrix, and a queen to boot, but I would not be walking in there without some visibility.
After a quick scan of the ground, I found a fallen branch.
With a huff and puff, I doused the tip with pink fire.
A blaze of illumination chased away shadows.
Like most dragons, I could produce a wide range of fires, each burning at different temperatures and hues, generating distinctive results.
Taron stiffened, tension settling over him like a second skin, but he made no comment.
Just entered the cavern with me. The scent of sulfur grew heavier in the thick, humid air.
Firelight pushed back more gloom, revealing walls curving in and upward.
Broken rocks littered the uneven stone floor, with stubborn patches of moss tucked here and there.
Veins of gold lit up in the onyx rock, glowing with a fire of its own and illuminating an ancient mural spanning over two yards across one wall of the cavern.
The ancient pigments stubbornly clung to the rockface where the damp stone hadn’t leached the colors away.
I stepped closer, trying to decipher the meaning of the images.
Flowing bands in greens, blues and purples rose and fell in waves, trapping men and women inside.
At the mural’s edge, one image had been scoured away, the damage clean and new, obviously not nature’s doing.
My stomach sank with realization. This was Lorik’s work.
Hiding a clue? A warning? Or simply demonstrating that he’d been here and knew exactly what we planned?
The treasure hunter pressed ahead, but I couldn’t follow.
The place felt smaller now. I remained rooted, unable to make my muscles move or take my gaze off the mural.
Or stop my riotous thoughts. This isn’t right.
Dragons weren’t supposed to be in tight, enclosed spaces.
We belonged in the air, our wings spread wide.
Taron tapped my shoulder. My attention whipped to him, and he mouthed, “Come.”
The heat of his touch severed whatever odd trance the mural and Lorik’s threat had placed me under, and I nodded.
Understanding flickered in his honeyed eyes, and it did something to me.
Left me vulnerable. He saw past every emotional block and barricade I’d erected over the years and broke through to the heart of me.
Maybe it was the Yrnblade bond. Possibly his seeing into my dreams. Or that our bloodlines had been tied together for centuries. But in this moment, I felt seen.
He reached out his hand toward me, palm up.
Without hesitation, I placed my hand in his, needing connection. He answered with a gentle squeeze that said: You’ve got this.
That firm, steady grip anchored and strengthened me. I did have this.
With the professor in the lead, we ventured deeper into the winding corridor, no longer holding hands, yet still I felt him.
Here and there, we had to slip between the damp cave walls sideways.
The heat intensified, drawing beads of sweat to my skin.
Dragon light chased more shadows away, revealing bones encased in stone.
Shattered sword blades crunched under our feet like broken teeth, and worst of all, full husks of withered berserkers propped here and there, their expressions frozen with ecstasy.
We took an abrupt turn–
Something small with many legs skittered across the way and lowered, landing on my cheek.
Not a big deal. I reached up to knock it off, but it moved fast, scrambling to my neck, where it bit.
Hot acid flooded my veins, and I admit, I did not remain cool, calm and collected.
With a hiss, I dropped the torch and flailed about, swiping at my neck, hair and face.
Taron grabbed me by the shoulders and forced me to still. The fire continued to flicker on the rocky floor, casting golden light upon him. Concern etched his features as he scanned me. Then he met my gaze and arched a brow, as if he’d spotted nothing out of the ordinary. “Are you okay?”
Wait. I’d heard him.
Are you okay?
Areyouokay?
Arrreyouuuokayyy?
His voice reverberated throughout the enclosure, growing creepier and more menacing with every repetition. The plugs! I’d dislodged one when I’d flailed, leaving myself vulnerable to the “dark force” in the cave.
I slapped my hands against my ears attempting to block any further sound, but a whisper caught my attention. I released my head and gripped Taron’s wrists, eager to hear. My heart jumped as I stilled and listened.
It came again, louder. A suggestion. A command. Kiss…
The thought was mine, and that terrified me more than the desire itself. Because I wanted to do it.
Kiss, kiss, kiss.
I slid my gaze to Taron. Such a rough, dangerous warrior. Loyal to his family. Willing to do anything for those he loved, whether they lived or had died. Ferocious. Undaunted. Glinting with sweat. Gorgeous. Powerful. Eager to slay a dragon queen, but maybe more eager to kiss her back?
A dreamy haze altered my vision, the world suddenly softer. Sweeter. What would a kiss hurt?
Desire clawed at me. If I didn’t feel his lips on my—I needed to feel his lips on mine.
Stalking closer, I rasped, “Taste me, Taron.”
He stiffened, but he didn’t pull back, allowing me to thread my fingers through his silken hair. His pupils spilled over his irises, a thrill to behold. No protests sounded as I traced the seam between his lips. Mmm. Was there any man more tantalizing than this one?
Rising on my tiptoes, I lightly ran his earlobe through my teeth. “Kiss me,” I beseeched.
A tremor rocked him. He reached up and removed a plug, as if he wanted to hear my voice more than he wished to survive. “Olyssa.”
Olyssa, Olyssa, Olysssssssa.
“Mmm.” Mmm, mmm, mmm. The sound of my pleasure echoed between us, each rendition an auditory caress. “Kiss me,” I repeated, nuzzling against him. My cheek against his.
Kiss me, kiss me, kissssss me.
“Please, Taron.” Taron, Taron, Taroooon.
The fire snuffed out, and darkness rolled in. I didn’t care. Maybe he didn’t either. Sudden silence reigned. The whole world stilled, as if holding its breath.
With a growled, “Kiss,” Taron agreed, whipping one hand to my nape and the other to my hip.
For a heartbeat, his grip loosened, as if he fought something unseen. The enchantment? Me? Both?
Then whatever restraint he clung to shattered, and he yanked me closer, dipping his head to mine.