Chronicles of the Four: The Complete Series

by Marissa Farrar

  “Ah, fuck, Dela,” Orergon groaned, and he held himself deep as he gave in to his own pleasure.

  She couldn’t hold off any longer, releasing herself around him, her inner muscles milking every last drop out of his cock. She felt him so deep, his hips giving short thrusts as he released himself inside her. Her head swam as her orgasm sent sparks jolting through her. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her body, until her orgasm finally released her and she was able to breathe.

  They fell together, both breathing hard. Their naked skin shone with sweat in the light of the fire, the furs they lay upon damp with their perspiration.

  Orergon lifted himself up to look into her face and swept the damp hair away from her face. “By the Gods, Dela, I love you. I’ve never loved another woman since my wife, and I swear to you that I’ll never love another woman but you for the rest of my life.”

  “I love you, too, Orergon.” Her heart swelled with emotion for him.

  They lay in each other’s arms, both waiting for their heartrates to return to normal.

  “We’ll go back to your people,” she told him as they lay tangled together beneath the same furs they’d made love on. “Back to the Vast Plains. It’s what you need—to be in your homeland again, to connect with who you are—a warrior. A leader.”

  His arms tightened around her, and the heat of his breath warmed the top of her head. “Sounds good.”

  “I’ll need you to help your people see what we’re trying to achieve for Xantearos. They’ll listen to you.”

  “They’ll listen to you, too,” he replied. “The Moerians have only ever wanted to roam free. They’ll want to have the freedom to travel and live right across Xantearos. The Plains are vast, but they still feel as though we’re being contained.”

  She nodded against his smooth chest. “I hope you’re right. It would be good to have at least one race who doesn’t want to fight me on everything.”

  “The Elvish won’t want to fight. They’ll be happy to be able to do magic again.”

  She looked up into his dark eyes. “You’re wrong. Vehel’s father and brothers won’t be happy to see me. I suspect they’ll put up as much as a fight as King Crowmere.”

  He frowned. “But you don’t want to take their kingdom away from them.”

  “No, I don’t. They can keep the Inverlands, but they will have to acknowledge that their son will be ruling over them, at my side, together with you and Warsgra. And they also have to accept that their people will be allowed to leave the Inverlands and that other races will be allowed to move there. From what Vehel has told me, his father and brothers aren’t exactly the accepting type.”

  “And what about what Warsgra told you about your own brother?”

  She took a shaky breath. “I know it’s unlikely he’s still alive, but I can’t just forget about him.”

  “You mean to go into the catacombs?”

  “I don’t think I have any choice.”

  “You’re wrong, Dela. You do have a choice. You can choose to put your responsibility for your people above the responsibility you feel for your brother.”

  The truth of his words stung. She didn’t want to listen to him, but wasn’t that the reason she had the men around? They didn’t just protect her physically, they also offered her guidance when she needed it. Maybe the reason she didn’t want to listen to what he had to say was because she knew he was right. The thought of abandoning her brother to a possible lifetime of terror and torture as he wandered the catacombs beneath the Elvish castle made her sick to her stomach. How could she live with herself, ruling over Xantearos, while knowing what he might be going through? It would be on her mind every second of every day, torturing her. And she needed to face up to Vehel’s brother as well, and find out what Ridley had done to get himself captured.

  “Maybe Vehel’s brother will be able to do something to get Ridley out again,” she said, clinging to hope. “Perhaps I can offer him something for Ridley’s freedom?”

  “Dela, when people go into the catacombs, they don’t come back out again. And that would include you, too.”

  She slipped into silence, not wanting to continue the conversation. She knew Orergon was right, and didn’t hold it against him in any way, but it was still impossible for her to accept.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dela

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Dela called a meeting between her, Seth—the new leader of the human army—and Mudurt, the Norc who would be taking up position of clan leader now that Warsgra was by her side. They gathered in Warsgra’s hut, while Warsgra, Orergon, and Vehel made themselves scarce, giving her the privacy to speak with the others alone. Though she hid nothing from the three men, she also needed for her authority to be recognized and didn’t want the others thinking she could only speak with them when the leaders of the other three races were present.

  Already, she sensed the tension had melted between the two races. Though lives had been lost, and they would be treating the injured for some time to come, the battle had brought them all together.

  She laced her fingers behind her back, the act pulling her shoulders back and straightening her stance to one of authority.

  “I need to leave to visit the Moerians,” she told them. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be gone, but I hope to unite the Moerians to our cause.”

  “And the Elvish?” Seth asked, his eyebrows raised.

  “The Elvish may be a different matter. I’m expecting some resistance from them.”

  She didn’t mention that part of the resistance she was expecting would come from Vehel’s brother when she demanded to know what he’d done with Ridley.

  She moved away from the topic of the Elvish. “I’ll send those Moerians who support our cause for freedom to meet you all here, at the Southern Trough. Where we go from there will depend on what happens with the Elvish.”

  Seth’s lips twisted. “And what do you think King Crowmere is going to do when he hears of all this?”

  “A large portion of his army is here. His main supporters are dead. And he’s aware of the existence of the dragon. I suspect he’ll try to barricade himself in his castle, rather than fight. If he tries to fight, he will lose. He doesn’t have many allegiances. The common man may fight for him, but they will fight out of fear, not out of love. I hope to show them they are on the wrong side rather than be forced to kill them.”

  “And when King Crowmere is dead,” asked the Norc, “what happens then?”

  “Then I will break down the walls of Anthoinia, and you will all be free men, to live and roam across Xantearos however you wish.”

  “And you will be on the throne.” The way the Norc said it was a statement rather than a question.

  The very idea made her mind spin, but it was the truth.

  “If that’s what the people want. I won’t be alone, however. I’ll have a representative of each of the races by my side to advise me.”

  Seth caught her eye, a spark of interest in his. “Not a human man.”

  She recognized that look, and found herself catching a smile between her lips. But she held his gaze. “I am human.”

  That amusement didn’t leave his eyes. “You’re a Dragonsayer.”

  “Still human,” she insisted, tilting her head slightly to one side.

  Flutters of possibility danced in her chest, but she couldn’t entertain them now. She had work to do, and handsome, young, human men weren’t currently in her plan.

  SHE DIDN’T KNOW HOW long they’d be gone, but she couldn’t leave the dragon egg unattended all this time, and she didn’t trust anyone else enough to leave it in their charge. The possibility someone might use it against her remained fresh in her mind.

  Instead of leaving the egg, she hauled the furs off from where she’d covered it and carried it out of the hut and into the hazy morning light. Those who were already awake tended to the fires or prepared to break the fast for their families and the new arrivals—of which there were still many. Plent
y of lives had been lost during the battle, but the human army was still vast, and now, combined with the Norcs, their numbers were far greater than normally occupied the Southern Trough.

  Men, women, and children all gawped openly at her as she carried the egg, winding her way through the huts until she reached the spot on the outskirts where Vehel, Orergon, and Warsgra waited beside the dragon.

  She shared a special glance with Orergon after their night together, and then acknowledged the other two males in turn. Each of the men was too respectful of her and each other to share a kiss or any other kind of affection in public. What happened between them, behind closed doors, was no one else’s business.

  Seth’s cheeky grin and twinkle in his eye flashed through her mind. Dela briefly wondered how they’d react to her bringing a human man into the group. Would they accept him as they accepted each other?

  Did the human population of Xantearos need a human man at her side to feel they were properly represented?

  One thing that concerned her was a battle for dominance among the males. So far, she hadn’t seen any—they all supported each other—but dynamics changed.

  Dela went to the dragon’s head and presented him with the egg. She hadn’t dreamed of the dragon last night, and she took that to be a good thing. Calm was a rarity lately, and she took the moments of peace when she could get them. The dragon exhaled through his nostrils, puffing circles of white smoke around the shell. The heat warmed her hands and caught in the back of her throat so she had to stifle a cough.

  Beneath her palms, something kicked.

  “Oh!”

  She glanced down in surprise. The movement beneath the shell happened again, and a smile broke out across her face. Something had tapped against the inside of the egg. The baby dragon was still alive, and, by the feel of it, wanted to break free of its prison soon.

  She looked up into the adult dragon’s face. “He’s going to hatch soon, isn’t he?”

  The dragon blinked his amber eyes and lifted his head, puffing out more smoke. She took that to be a ‘yes.’

  “A baby dragon,” she mused. She looked back down at the egg, wondering how tightly he or she was curled up inside the shell. From the size of the egg, she assumed the dragon would be the size of an average dog when he or she hatched. How quickly did they grow? Would she be able to make a connection with this dragon as well?

  “Are you ready to go?” Warsgra asked her in his low growl.

  She nodded. “Yes, I think so.”

  “How long will it take us to reach the Vast Plains?”

  “It’s several days by horse,” Orergon said, “so I assume it will be at least half a day by dragon. Of course, then we’ll have to find my tribe. The Moerians don’t stay in one place like the humans or Elvish. Our lives are dedicated to roaming the Vast Plains.”

  “We’ll spot them from the dragon,” she replied.

  Orergon nodded, and she was thankful for his trust in her and hoped she wouldn’t let him down. Dela smiled at Orergon. “Are you excited to see your homeland?”

  “Yes, but apprehensive about what I will find, and how I will be received as well. Dark magic is greatly feared among my kind.”

  “You’re their leader, Orergon. They love you. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you’re alive.”

  His lips twisted. “I’m not the same man I was when I left them.”

  “You’re still a good man,” she assured him. “Dark magic or not, they’re bound to see that.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  She went to the dragon’s side first of all, and climbed up to take her position against the side of his body, reaching up to hold onto one of the huge spines running down the length of his back. The others respectfully waited for her to take her place before climbing on as well. The respect was more for the dragon than for her. None of them quite knew how the dragon would react if they attempted to climb on first.

  A group of both humans and Norcs gathered to watch them take off. It was still a wondrous sight, seeing a dragon in the flesh after all this time.

  The dragon got to his feet, and people moved out of the way as he took several steps forward and then launched into the sky. The mountainous backdrop meant he was quickly at a high altitude and didn’t need to climb upward like he had when they’d been back in Anthoinia.

  They left the mountains of the Great Dividing Range behind them, until the peaks appeared as no more than shadows on the horizon. It was full daylight now, the sun not with the strength it had when they’d been in the north, but increasing with every passing minute. They were heading north again, she realized, the Great Diving Range on their right now instead of behind them. Like the mountains, the Vast Plains had a climate all of its own—hot and dry most of the year, but with a wet season that lasted for a couple of months and gave the lands enough water to get them through the rest of the year. The winds were also strong here, and some said that when a certain hot wind blew, it had the ability to drive sane men mad.

  They flew over the green canopies of forests, of the lush stillness of blue lakes, of the patchworks of fields. When they hit clouds, Dela lost sight of the ground below and was lost momentarily in a world of white. The damp coolness of the cloud hit her lungs, and she gasped, gripping tighter to the dragon’s spine, barely able to make out even Vehel sitting across the dragon’s back from her. In those moments, it was easy to believe she was the only person alive in the world, and Anthoinia and the mountains and the Vast Plains no longer existed.

  The hours passed, and gradually the landscape below them began to change. The sun grew stronger, the presence of clouds vanishing from the sky. Heat burned her shoulders, and she found herself squinting against the new strength in the light.

  “We’re close!” Orergon called out to her, his voice threatening to be caught by the wind whipping past their faces and carried away unheard.

  But she did hear him and nodded to show she’d understood. She’d noticed how the countryside had become sparse with trees, the grasslands stretching on, more yellow than green now. She leaned over the side of the dragon’s wing, watching more closely for any signs of Orergon’s people. She wasn’t expecting to find them right away. He’d said they could be anywhere, and it was easy to see from up here just how far into the distance the Vast Plains stretched.

  “We’ll keep going until we see something,” she called to the men.

  Vehel frowned at her. “Night will fall soon. We won’t be able to see anything then.”

  “It’s still several hours until nightfall. The dragon can cover plenty of distance in that time.”

  Despite her words, she tried to ignore the niggling feeling that he might be right. There appeared to be nothing but grasslands as far as the eye could see. She felt as though she was in a desert of sorts, but with grass instead of sand. This wasn’t a place she could ever see herself spending much time. Perhaps there was a beauty in it, but she preferred the mountains over the plains. Maybe Orergon would be able to show her what he loved so much about his homelands, but right now she was struggling to see it.

  They continued to fly, covering mile after mile. The ground passed below, all of it looking the same. They spotted the occasional herd of animals—wild deer, buffalo, the occasional boar. But no sign of any Moerians. Was this how they kept themselves safe? They simply didn’t allow themselves to be found.

  Dela was starting to wonder if they’d ever come across any of the nomadic tribes, at least not before nightfall, but Orergon’s shout made her jump.

  “There!”

  She leaned out to peer down. Numerous horses ran across the yellowed grasslands. On their backs, without the aids of saddles or reins, were men, women, and children. Small children, no older than five or six, rode confidently, while the toddlers and babies were strapped to their parents’ backs. All shared Orergon’s coffee colored skin and shiny black hair.

  The tribespeople looked up as the dragon soared above them, some of their horses rearing up
in fear, the riders skillfully staying on the animal’s backs. Birds with long white wings and even longer legs burst from the tall grasses just beyond the horses. The wind rippled through the grasses, the movement like waves on the ocean.

  Where only a moment ago Dela had been thinking the place looked like a dry wasteland, she suddenly saw the beauty in it. Everything about the scene before her spoke freedom to her, and it occurred to her that the Moerians may not need her in the same way the other races did. They weren’t trapped between city walls or banned from doing something that came naturally to them. There was the chance they would neither need nor want the chance to roam across the rest of Xantearos, content to be left alone on the Vast Plains. But then she remembered how, despite the appearance of freedom, they still struggled to feed their families in this place. The lack of rainfall made growing and harvesting crops near impossible, and though they were nomadic people, relying on hunting and scavenging rather than farming, they must sometimes wish for an easier way of life. No mother would ever want to see her child go hungry, no matter what traditions surrounded them. Besides, she wasn’t telling the Moerians to change who they were or their culture. She’d never dream of doing that. She was simply giving them the options to roam farther afield, should they wish.

  She urged the dragon lower, planning to land a little way ahead of the tribe. She’d half expected the Moerians to run at the sight of the dragon, but instead they banded together, pressing the weakest of their people—the young children and older members—in the center of their circle, while those who were armed surrounded them to keep them protected.

  The dragon hit the ground, and she braced herself as his momentum threw her backward, clinging tight to his spines and to the egg she had nestled in her lap. She hadn’t felt any movement from inside the egg again, but she would be brokenhearted if it cracked now.