by Lola Gabriel
Contrary to what Brooklyn had hoped, her words had no effect on Audrey, who held her smirk, unmoved by Brooklyn’s proclamation.
“Well, fat chance of that happening,” she chuckled. “I’m going to be nosy and intrusive until you die, like it or not.”
Brooklyn stared at her, and for a second, all the annoyance and anger she felt toward Audrey disappeared. Instead, they were replaced by an immense gratitude that she had someone on her side—someone who cared about the choices she had made and whether she lived or died. Why was she pushing Audrey away? She only wanted to help her.
Tears welled up in Brooklyn’s eyes. Instantly, Audrey was at her side, pulling her into an embrace.
“I’m here, girl,” she whispered into Brooklyn’s blonde head, squeezing her shoulders tightly. “Whatever it is, I will always be here for you.”
The men in my life might be a royal disappointment, Brooklyn thought, holding onto her friend, but Audrey is always at my side, thank God.
She had barely finished her thought when another stab pierced into her side, causing a scream to rip its way out of her throat. Audrey pulled back at once, gazing at her with horrified eyes.
“What? What?” she cried as Brooklyn fell forward, clutching her stomach.
“Call… an… ambulance,” Brooklyn managed to gasp before she collapsed onto the floor, writhing in pain. Audrey wasted no time, rushing to her purse to snatch up her cell phone and running back toward her fallen friend.
“Please!” she yelled into the phone. “I need an ambulance to… to…”
She looked around helplessly, and Brooklyn rasped out the address. “1867… Orchard… Village…”
“1867 Orchard Village. My friend is… I don’t know what’s wrong with her!” Audrey cried. “She’s white as a sheet and doubled over in pain!”
Audrey listened, her hand trying to rub at Brooklyn’s back comfortingly. Even in her agony, Brooklyn could feel Audrey’s panic.
“I don’t know what happened!” her friend screamed at the dispatcher. “One minute she was fine, the next—”
Brooklyn grabbed her arm weakly, and Audrey stared down at her. “Tell them…”
Audrey stared at her, willing her to continue.
“What?” she shrieked. “Tell them what?”
“I’m… p-p-pregnant.”
Audrey’s face swirled with hundreds of different emotions, and she gaped uncomprehendingly at Brooklyn. After a few seconds, she regained her composure and spoke into the phone, the frenzy gone from her voice.
“Please hurry. I think she’s having a miscarriage.”
10
The brothers sat up late into the New York City night, talking about the insanity of their father’s desire.
“How? Why?” Cassius asked, a million questions wanting to spill from his mouth, but he knew his brothers were not likely to know more than he did. Even Maximus, who still lived within the castle walls, could not be held accountable for whatever madness King Rui concocted in his ever-faltering mind.
“He wants to start with America,” Maximus explained. “Wipe out the Pentagon, the White House, and Congress, sending their society into cahoots.”
“It shouldn’t take much to do that,” Cassius mumbled, though the looks on his brothers’ faces told him that it was the wrong time for jokes. “And then what?”
“He believes that once the world can see what we’re capable of, they will back down and succumb to whatever it is he wants.”
“First of all, Father doesn’t even know what he wants!” Cassius cried, exasperated. “And secondly, the world is not going to simply roll over without trying every method known to mankind to stop us!”
“We can’t be killed,” Anders reminded him. Cassius scowled.
“We can be killed,” he retorted. “We just don’t know how.”
Maximus seemed unconcerned about such a thing. “In seven centuries, we have been shot, stabbed, burned—”
“I am aware that there have been attempts made to kill us in various ways,” Cassius interjected. “But you have forgotten that Opal assured us there is a way we can be stopped? We just don’t know what it is.”
“I think she was lying to save herself,” Maximus replied, waving his hand as if the conversation annoyed him. “She felt we would keep her alive if we thought she had something else to tell us. There is absolutely no proof that we can be killed.”
“Consider this, then,” Cassius snapped. “There was no such thing as a nuclear warhead when we were cursed.” His words seemed to hang over their heads as Maximus and Anders glanced at one another.
“They would never start a nuclear war,” Anders said. “That would only kill them faster. They will succumb to our demands.”
“Our demands? You sound like you’re siding with Father!” Cassius growled, jumping to his feet. “Never mind what could happen if he goes out on a rampage! Think about how we can stop him. How did this come to be? What does he do all day in the castle?”
“Well, he has the new wife,” Maximus answered, and Cassius snorted.
“What number is this one?” he asked sarcastically. “I’ve lost track now.”
“Whichever number it is, she is not doing a very good job at keeping her husband amused,” Anders observed. Cassius turned toward Maximus.
“Max, what good is it to have you there if he continues to spiral out of control? You have to do something to distract him, to—”
“How many more years is this going to fall on me?” Maximus demanded, throwing his hands up in frustration. “You have all disappeared, carried on with your own lives. No wonder he comes up with these crazy plans! He has nothing else to look forward to!”
“Oh, so his insanity is our doing now?” Cassius challenged. “As if he hasn’t always been this way. Besides, no one has forced you to stay in Misty Woods, Max.”
“We can fight about this all night long,” Anders sighed. “But no one is coming up with a solution.”
“There must be a way we can confine Father,” Cassius thought aloud.
“Confine Father?” his brothers choked in unison.
“I mean for his own good!” he explained, shaking his head. “If we were mortals, we would hire a nurse to watch over him, put him in a facility that could deal with him full time, get him some help for his delusions! Since that isn’t an option—”
“How the hell are we going to confine him anywhere?” Anders exclaimed. “There’s nowhere we can’t escape, no cage strong enough to hold any of us!”
But Cassius wondered if that was indeed true. Everything had some kind of counter, some force that could stand against it. Diseases had treatments; poisons had antidotes; and dragons must have a way to be fought and defeated.
He suddenly realized what he was thinking, and the idea startled him, causing him to pause.
He could not kill his father, no matter how unstable the king was becoming… could he?
It won’t come to that, he thought firmly.
“I’m returning to my island in the morning,” he told his brothers. “In two weeks, we’ll be at Misty Woods. I expect that we’ll have a plan of attack by then. He needs something else to focus his attention, something gentle and soothing.”
“Like yoga?” Anders asked sarcastically.
Cassius simply ignored him.
“I don’t care what it is, but if he goes through with this, he’s going to end up dead or cause some mass destruction, and I want no part of it.”
Maximus’ lips parted slightly as he looked up at his older brother in surprise.
“Oh!” he gasped. “You don’t understand.”
“Understand what?” he demanded. “That Father is a nut case? Yes, I understand that.”
Anders muttered something that Cassius could not hear, but his brother’s face was fixated on Maximus. He shook his head. “It’s not just Father. It’s all of us.”
“What are you talking about?” Cassius demanded.
Maximus took a deep brea
th and released a pained sigh. “Father is not going to do it alone. He expects us all to join in an army against mankind.”
Brooklyn lives here in America.
That was the thought that overshadowed all others, and the more Cassius thought about what his father wanted to do, the harder his heart beat.
Would his other siblings agree to such a strange, unprecedented idea? If they succeeded, it would ensure their full reign on the world for generations to come. They would uncover the whereabouts of more dragons—ones they didn’t even know existed. Opal had died leaving them with far more questions than answers, but lately, it had not seemed so important.
Each brother had found a way to live his life without the constant umbra of who they were consuming them whole. Why couldn’t King Rui do the same?
I should warn Brooklyn to leave, at least temporarily, until this is resolved, he thought to himself, but he wondered if he was overreacting. Nothing had happened yet. In two weeks, he would meet with his father and dissuade him from doing such a drastic, unnecessary thing. Somehow.
Cassius was unable to rest that night, and he perched on the roof of Ander’s Park Avenue building, staring out into the restless lights of New York. When dawn broke, he was long gone, his wings spread wide as he flew back across the United States and over the Pacific Ocean, his initial exhaustion forgotten. Once he landed back where he had started, though, he fell into a crawl along the dock of his home, his body pulsating in pain.
I shouldn’t have done that, he chided himself. It was too much over such a short period of time.
He pulled his body up the long dock, his arms growing weaker as he did, until he finally forsook the idea of making it back to the house in his state. The moon was fully above his head, casting a mesmerizing glow about the sea. Cassius closed his eyes, allowing the gentle lap of the waves to embrace him as his form settled into the pier.
“Cass?”
His golden-green eyes flew open, and he stared at the woman leaning over him, her surreally teal eyes gazing down at him.
“Brooklyn!” he gasped, struggling to sit up. Brooklyn didn’t let him, shaking her head.
“Just relax,” she purred, lowering her lips to his, her head upside down to his.
Eagerly, Cassius reached up to taste her, his forearm snaking around the back of her neck to draw her closer. Her blonde hair fell over his face, catching in the bristle of his five o’clock shadow, and he inhaled the scent of her coconut shampoo. His tongue met hers through her parted lips, an electric shock covering his body as her hands reached to pull his shirt up. They pulled away from each other just long enough to allow for his top to come off, her mouth exploring his once more, an urgency overtaking them both.
Slowly, Brooklyn moved against his cheeks, her firm breasts sliding over his face. For the first time, Cassius noticed that she was naked, but as his arm slid down her back, he didn’t question how she had come to be there with him, his neck arching to pull her taut nipples into his mouth.
Her hands toyed with the buttons of his pants, allowing him to suck and lick at her swollen breasts while blood rushed to his groin. Brooklyn fell further down his wide chest, her own tongue marking every spot on his torso as her flat stomach glided across his nose.
The smell of her was intoxicating. The bulge in Cassius’ boxers grew as he realized her lips would be wrapped around his member in seconds. Brooklyn deeply inhaled his shaft, and even though he was expecting it, he was too consumed with her velvety center staring him in the face to fully absorb what was happening.
Cassius grabbed at her rear, his fingers sliding along the crack of her perfect cheeks as he pried them apart, yanking her toward him while she began to bob against him, deep and suctioning. The dampness between her silken thighs was unmistakable, and he dove inside her with his tongue, tasting the sweetness of her core.
Brooklyn yelped slightly, tensing as her own movements grew more frenzied, but Cassius held her in place, his hips bucking to fill her wanting throat. He could feel himself in her mouth, the realization causing his sack to tighten and his mouth to work faster. Her nub was throbbing, and Brooklyn struggled, her bare feet curling under his ears. She was about to climax, and as he moved against her, Cassius feared he was not far behind.
He nipped at her, and she released a muffled cry in a rush of desire. His tongue did not slow, his fingers grabbing at the soft skin of her rear as he dipped a finger inside to complete her orgasm.
Brooklyn trembled. Her hot breath continued to bring him closer to the brink, but Cassius wanted to finish differently. With earnest effort, he pulled her off his throbbing member.
She turned to him, and he spun her back, positioning her legs on either side of his waist. His hands splayed across the skin of her back as the tip of his shaft found its way into her entrance with one smooth motion.
Cassius thought about teasing her, about taking his time with her, but he was too far along for such games. Hard and fast, he threw his hips into her as Brooklyn fell forward, grasping at his well-formed calves for leverage. Her delicious wetness had driven him past the point of no return, and with each thrust, Cassius grunted louder and jerked harder inside her until he could take no more of her cries. His seed poured into her, still penetrating her with as much force as he could muster while she clung to him for dear life.
Brooklyn quivered, shaking with desire, and as he shrunk into her, she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes glittering.
“How did you get here?” Cassius asked her, his mind heady with pleasure. “How did you find me?”
“You can’t stay away from me,” she told him. “We have a connection; can’t you feel it?”
“But—but when you saw me at your house—”
Brooklyn waved her hand and slid off him, crawling to lay beside him, her nude form pressed into him.
“I overreacted,” she said nonchalantly, and Cassius studied her face, his mind beginning to clear slightly.
“You…” he trailed off, not wanting to say the words aloud. He knew, however, that they were true, despite his wishful thinking. “You’re only a dream, aren’t you?”
A tidal wave of disappointment filled him. As he brushed a stray strand of hair out of Brooklyn’s ethereal eyes, she began to fade away before him.
“Wait!” Cassius cried out to her. “Don’t go yet! I have to tell you something!”
Brooklyn floated toward the sea, shaking her head. “You can tell me when you see me. Now I have to go. They’re calling me back.”
She disappeared, and Cassius fell back against the wood, a loss not unlike grief flooding through him. Before he fell back into a dark abyss, the only thought in his mind was that she had only been a dream.
But he still could not stop tasting her on his lips.
11
The voices around Brooklyn faded in and out until they were gone.
She stood in the middle of a sparkling sea, the waters reminiscent of her own turquoise eyes. Blackness surrounded her, but the glow of a half-moon glinted off the waves, a billion stars twinkling above her head, and she looked around, trying to understand where she was. It was nowhere she had been before, a tropical paradise Brooklyn could only imagine was heaven.
She saw him asleep on the dock, a few feet away, his large frame sprawled out as if he was dead. Cautiously, she approached him, her heart hammering. Though, if she was dead, her heart shouldn’t beat, should it?
Kneeling at his side, Brooklyn touched his face, exhaling as she realized he was very much alive, his chest rising, a serene expression on his face.
“Cass?” she whispered.
His lids parted, and he gaped at her in shock.
She reached out to touch him, but she was jolted across the water.
“She’s back!”
Her eyes flew open, the white of a ceiling the first thing in her view before the doctors and nurses appeared on her radar.
“Brooklyn, can you hear me?”
She nodded slowly, wanting to slip
back to the utopia she had left, wanting to touch her lips to Cass’ once more.
“Look at me,” one physician instructed, and she shifted her bleary eyes toward him, focusing on him. His face registered great relief. “Follow the light,” he told her, holding a flashlight, and she did as instructed.
Suddenly, she remembered why she was there and what had happened. Brooklyn bolted upward, reaching for her stomach as the medical staff pressed her back to the bed. Instantly she was consumed by a feeling of lightheadedness.
“My baby!” she cried, her eyes wide with fear.
“Just stay down,” the doctor with the flashlight asked.
“My baby!” Brooklyn insisted, panic swelling in her heart. “What happened to my baby?”
The man’s eyes narrowed behind his wire rimmed glasses, and his gaze shifted toward a nearby nurse.
“Oh,” Brooklyn gasped. “Is he…?” Quickly, the physician shook his dark head.
“The fetus is fine, Brooklyn,” he assured her, keeping his gaze on her. “Everything is fine now.”
“Then why are you looking at me like that?” she demanded, again trying to sit up. Once more, she was kept down.
“You need to rest,” the doctor told her. “Your friend and your boyfriend are outside. They are eager to see you. Are you up for it now, or would you rather wait?”
Brooklyn stared at him uncomprehendingly.
“My baby is fine?” she repeated. “Are you sure?”
He visibly swallowed, turning his head. “Yes…”
There was something in the way he spoke that gave Brooklyn chills.
“What is wrong with him? What happened to me?” She had a thousand questions, but his lips pursed together, and he shook his head again.
“You need to rest first,” he told her firmly. “I promise, the fetus is fine. I will call your family in to see you.” He did not give her time to argue, slipping from the room, the nurse on his heels.
But Brooklyn was troubled by the way he had continuously referred to her baby as “the fetus.” What did that mean? Was she just reading too much into it? They wouldn’t lie to her about her baby, would they?