Chapter 36
Finally.
The dragons had finally entered the battle, and seeing them in action had Loren’s chest swelling with excitement.
He had waited far too long to see what they were truly capable of with his own eyes.
After all, once he put them down, he would have the opportunity to figure out where they came from and gain one for himself.
Perhaps he merely needed to lay claim to one of the large beasts that flew over the armies.
Such fierce beings would most certainly find the King of Valenul worthy of their power.
Until then, however, he needed to make the calls for his military force that would be most advantageous.
The goal was to dispatch of as many of the dragons as possible, and the only way to do so was to bring them closer to the Hub.
They stayed far too distant to make that work with the artillery he had mounted on the battlements overlooking the battlefield.
There would be only one way to ensure he controlled the flow of the fight, and that was by making tactful decisions.
“Sound the retreat,” Loren commanded of the soldier nearest him. “I want every soldier back inside the Hub.”
Beside him, still refusing to watch the battle, Camilla Dodd scoffed, then leered at him through the snow. Despite her shivering, she spoke with a clear, strong voice. “Are you frightened, Your Majesty?”
Heat flushed Loren’s cheeks, and he curled his fingers into fists. “Retreat does not mean one is scared, you witless bitch.”
“Hmph.” Camilla rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth quirking. “Running away from one’s problems—in this case, a cavalry of fire-breathing beasts—is often associated with a deep-seated fear and desire to save your own reputation.”
“The only reputation that will need saving,” Loren snapped, “is yours when I am through with you.”
She stuck her lower lip out in a false pout that was aggravatingly attractive despite his fury at her. “You cannot risk ruining the visage of your future Queen.”
Loren scrunched his face in disgust. “My Queen is Ariadne.”
“Your Queen,” Camilla hissed, dropping the innocent look for one far more aggressive, “hates the very air you breathe. If you survive the night, you have but one option in order to keep the Lords on your side: me.”
The horn blasted from the top of one of the wall’s towers, two long notes that echoed across the field. Calls of retreat rose up from the soldiers below, and the crimson furthest back turned to make their way to the Hub. As Loren suspected, their enemy followed.
And as he planned, the dragons moved in as well.
“Come, Miss Dodd,” Loren said and held out his arm. “It is time for me to prepare for battle and for you to prepare to ascend to the throne—if what you say is true and if my men fail to bring me back my wife alive.”
Camilla barked a harsh laugh and shouldered past him without a word, but Loren caught her arm in a tight grip and dragged her back to him. She glared, but did not spit in his face as she had so brazenly before Nikolai. So the bitch could learn. Good. Perhaps she would make a fine Queen after all.
“Your father is likely dead because of them when they defeated my army in Monsumbra,” Loren snarled at her. “Your mother would be no more than some horn-head’s whore as a result. I suggest you tame that tongue of yours and learn your place.”
At least she had the good sense to pale in response to such a declaration.
Of course, Loren could not know for certain the outcome of the Lord Governor of Eastwood or his wife, but he could assume.
Dhemons were nothing but monsters with no sense of moral right or wrong.
They would have done precisely what Loren claimed.
“If my parents are dead,” Camilla said with as much venomous sweetness to her tone as she could muster, “then your precious Court will find me to be the last of a legacy. You will have no choice but to marry me.”
“And you believe that will keep you safe?”
“I believe that will keep me alive.” Camilla lifted her chin and stared him down. Despite her short hair and risque past, she looked like everything a Queen should.
Loren opened his mouth to respond, but shut it again when a massive form swept up from the outer wall.
Wind rushed by as the dragon shot into the sky mere feet from them, a blast of fire crackling through the air.
He ducked low and, given some sense, Camilla did the same with a high-pitched gasp that almost curdled into a scream.
“Man the ballistae!” a soldier shouted, and a dozen moved around them to get into position. “Fire at will!”
The violet dragon dove back down, raining fire from above on the battlements in front of Loren and Camilla. His heart thundered from the dump of adrenaline, and he watched in furious wonder as his soldiers went up in flames.
“Shoot the fucker down!” Loren cried over the sounds of his men screaming, standing back up and pointing to the beast as though no one else could see the thing.
A massive ballista flew through the air, missing the dragon by a mere breath as it arched backwards and flipped right-side up to roar back down the length of the wall—straight towards Loren.
“Protect His Majesty!” The command came from somewhere behind him, yet he did not flinch as he glared at the wild beast. Whether the creature knew of his importance or not, it did not matter: he was alive, and he was considered an enemy. Therefore, he would be a direct target.
Well, let it come.
Behind Loren, Camilla screamed, and he heard her slip as she took off running towards the tower where the staircase to safety lay.
In front of him, inhaling deep, the dragon prepared to breathe its fire again, only to choke off its plan in favor of rolling out of the way of yet another ballista as it flew by.
“Net!” Loren called.
The dragon righted itself and hurtled back toward him and the other soldiers not yet dead by its fire.
No sooner did it pass the tower ahead of Loren than a silver net was shot out over it, heavy weights on its outer circumference buckling the beast’s wings.
It wavered, sinking lower than it no doubt desired, then slammed belly-first into the battlements a stone’s throw from Loren’s boots.
Stone crumbled down from both sides of the wall as the dragon shrieked in protest to the sudden entrapment.
The strong scent of sulfur came before a feeble blast of fire that Loren side-stepped with ease.
With the weight of the metal net on its face, turning to cast its vitriol at him was no easy feat.
Soldiers hurried in as the dragon floundered, trying to find its footing on the collapsing wall with pikes and spears ready. As one such vampire moved around Loren, he stepped forward and took hold of the pike in the soldier’s hand. He relinquished it only at the acknowledgement of his King.
A beastly roar echoed from the thing as the first pike was driven under the violet scales.
The dragon twisted, trying to swing its barbed tail at the attacker and snapping its jaws at anyone who came too close.
Still, another huge spear was rammed into the softer underbelly of the creature—followed by another and another.
Again and again, the dragon screamed from the onslaught, its blood soaking the stones beneath it as it tried to stretch its wings beneath the heavy net to no avail.
Loren stepped in after watching the beast writhe, waiting for the opportune moment. When at last the dragon stretched its head high, Loren struck, driving the sharp end of the pike into its head from its soft palate.
Blood rained down on Loren as the dragon ceased its thrashing. Only then did he rip the pike back out and toss it to the ground. The thrill of killing a dragon had his hands shaking while he turned away from the violet corpse of what was, mere moments before, a true threat to all their survival.
Across the battlefield, cries of dismay echoed from the dragons that flew over the armies. Did they know of this dragon’s death? Could they feel it? The sounds they made—those he knew to be from creatures on the brink of death—had Loren wondering just how deep their connections went.
But Loren did not have time to ponder it.
He nodded to the soldiers around him before wiping his face on his sleeve and finding Camilla in the spiraling stairwell that led down from the wall.
Her eyes widened at the sight of him before he once again grabbed her arm and hauled her down the rest of the steps.
“Is it dead?” she asked as they neared the bottom. Her voice quavered, as it should, yet she shed no tears for the creature.
“Killed it myself,” he confirmed, exiting the tower at the ground level. “But there will be more, and we must be prepared.”
Camilla picked up her skirts to jog alongside him in an attempt to keep up through the drifts of snow inside the Hub. “Where are we going?”
“To the tower, of course.” Loren eyed the massive building at the center of the walls. “It is the safest place to keep you and where my new armor awaits.”
To her credit, Camilla said nothing against his plan.
She merely followed like an obedient cur into the tower, where he dragged her along as he took the stairs two at a time to the second floor.
After all, despite all his talk about making her his Queen in the event of Ariadne’s death, her first and foremost reason for being present at the Hub was to act as bait.
Though she had more than likely sussed that out, it was still a viable way to ensure Ariadne’s cooperation once he took control of her once more.