Claiming the Dragon King

by Amelia Hutchins

  They rushed from the room, sifting in different directions as Fyra remained with Ciara. Fyra lifted her blade once they were alone as she stared down at Ciara. Ciara lifted her arm to defend herself against the blow as she closed her eyes.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Something splattered her face. The blow she’d braced for never came and she opened her eyes, staring up at Fyra who held out her hand and then moved into action. She reached down, hefting Ciara up. She braced her against her side before she began moving them into the hallway, growling as she spared a look behind them at the creature she’d killed. She let Ciara rest against the wall as she caught her breath, wheezing as the iron continued to draw her strength from her.

  “I knew they wouldn’t have found us unless they were led to us,” she snapped angrily. “We’ve been under attack and betrayed since the fucking mountain pass,” she snarled.

  “The creatures are here?” Ciara asked as her stomach plummeted knowing her child was here somewhere, unprotected.

  “See for yourself, Ci,” Fyra nodded towards the room.

  Ciara wiped the blood from her face as she took in the crumpled form that was partially cut in half. She leaned her back closer against the wall as she used it to gain her footing as she pushed herself up. “How did you know it was in the room with us? Before, you couldn’t see them,” she questioned.

  “I felt it, which may have been from the wards. It doesn’t matter how I did, at least not right now. Let’s go get these assholes and make them pay for fucking with the dragons. Get over here, we’re going to Blane,” she demanded. Once Fyra reached her, they sifted into the middle of swords clashing and dragons screaming.

  She ducked and hit the ground as a dragon flew over them, barely missing them by inches. It sent fire and hot flames at someone close behind them. She looked over her shoulder to where a skeletal remain was all that was left of whoever it had been. Her eyes strayed to the dragon, and she sighed in relief as she realized it was Blane.

  “That’s not good,” Fyra warned as another dragon flew right at him. “If he’s in dragon form, it means the ones trying to take his throne are also in the form. Makes those fuckers harder to kill,” she hissed.

  Ciara screamed for Blane, but he couldn’t hear her over the other dragons screaming in the air. She sifted, landing on him as she glamoured a blade and sent it sailing at the other dragon that didn’t turn in time. She watched it fall to the ground with a thundering boom as it landed and transformed into a human. Adrenaline spiked through her; her strength grew as her anger and worry for her child increased. The iron sickness took a backseat to the fear that threatened to swallow her whole. It no longer mattered if she was sick or dying; her son was a defenseless victim, and her only thought was to get him back safely. She drew that knowledge to her, allowing it to fuel her strength as she clamped her thighs to the dragon’s neck and held onto him.

  She paused, clenching her legs even tighter as the dragon hovered in the air, flapping its wide wingspan, realizing he had an unwanted rider on his back that clung on for dear life. She closed her eyes and leaned against his scales, holding on. “They have our son,” she whispered as tears welled in her eyes. “They have Fury.”

  The dragon howled, sending other dragons racing to his location, and then they all hovered, forcing her hair to fly in the air as they hissed and sent ear piercing screams through the sky. She looked down, swallowing her fear as she took in her brothers and Fyra watching them from below, looking no more significant than ants on the ground. Panic threatened to consume her mind as she cried out as her grip slipped and the fear of falling slithered into her mind.

  “Easy, Ciara,” Blane’s voice sounded in her mind. “I got you. I won’t let you fall.”

  “My brothers are here; I called them because I couldn’t reach him. I was too weak to get to him and sent out a cry for help. I needed help,” she admitted. Tears constricted her words as her heart ached for their son who had to be terrified.

  “I knew they were here the moment they entered the castle. You did what you had to do,” he murmured, sending a comforting pulse racing through her. “Remy?”

  “In Faery, with Eliran,” she said as the dragons growled at her words. “They ran him through, and his head wouldn’t stop bleeding. I had to get him to help so I did the only thing I could do.”

  “You did well,” he replied. “Hold on, my little dragon rider, we have to find them before they get too far away with our son.”

  She glamoured on her armor and materialized swords that rested at her sides, and leaned against his neck as her legs wrapped around him. She closed her eyes, checking her system, and then opened them wide as the adrenaline continued to push her strength to the fore. She’d known about mothers getting superhuman strength when their child was hurt or in danger, but this, this was driven by her immortality and the need to save her own son.

  “I’m ready, Blane,” she uttered breathlessly as her heart raced with what she was about to do. She was riding a freaking honest-to-Gods dragon. She was riding her husband, and they were about to fly together.

  “You’ve ridden this dragon more than once,” he laughed as they sped through the sky.

  When they crested a large hill, she pointed at the creatures that held a blanket with a screaming babe. Not just any babe, her son. Those monsters had her baby.

  Once Blane was close enough, she sifted, swinging her blade through the large group of them as the dragons landed, shaking the ground. They picked them up, tossing them in the air as they caught them with their teeth, and crunched on the bones. They tore them apart as one, as if they sensed the other’s mind as they made short work of the small army which had taken one of their own. Those closest to her child couldn’t be easily killed by the dragons for fear of harming Fury, but she didn’t suffer their predicament. That was her son they were running away from the castle with. They wouldn’t make it over the next hillcrest alive, of that she was sure.

  She tore through them deftly without hesitation, not stopping until the one who held her son was all that remained standing. Blane and the dragons circled the other side of it. It hesitated, setting Fury on the ground as it withdrew its blade. Red eyes stared at her, and its horns dripped with poisonous barbs as it opened its mouth, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth.

  It prepared to fight her, but it didn’t get the chance. Blane didn’t hesitate; he crunched down, cutting the creature in half as Ciara rushed towards her baby. She picked him up, checking him for wounds as Blane thundered closer in dragon form, resting his bloody mouth beside them as his ancient eyes stared at them. The other dragons stared, waiting to see if the child was unharmed. Ciara stood, closing the distance between them, as fear abated and her body shook and trembled with relief.

  “He’s fine,” she sobbed as she allowed him to drop his wing so she could mount him with their son in her arms. “We saved him,” she cried as her body rocked with the mix of adrenaline and fear as it all crashed down on her at once.

  “He’s your son, Ciara. Of course he is fine, and of course we saved him. There’s no world where he doesn’t live in it for us.”

  She nodded as she tucked her son against her chest, glamouring on a pack that secured him to her as she held on Blane’s scales as he lifted off of the ground and took to the air. The other dragons followed his lead, flying beside them protectively. They landed next to her brothers, who had rounded up some men who looked none too happy about it. She slid from Blane and felt the air charge as he changed to his human form again. She turned, covering his nakedness as she glamoured him into a pair of jeans.

  He stared down at his half-dressed form and frowned. “Jealous?”

  “Possessive, there’s a big difference. You’re mine, Dragon King. I claimed that ass.”

  “Thank you, Ryder,” he said begrudgingly as he stood before her brothers. “Thank you
for coming to the aid of the dragons in our dark hour of need.” He swallowed as if it physically hurt him to say it.

  “You’re part of the family now,” Ryder admitted harshly, as if he didn’t want to say it either. “Fury?” he asked.

  “Sleeping; apparently the ride on his father’s back put him to sleep. But he’s good,” she said as a sob ripped through her. Blane pulled her close, burying his nose in her hair as she started to collapse.

  “Ciara,” he whispered as he lifted her in his arms, taking in the thick black lines that covered her face and arms. “Ciara?”

  “She needs a bed now,” Ryder demanded, grabbing them both and entering the room that had once been hers. It was in shambles. With a single thought, it was beautiful, filled once again with rainbow hues. “Blane, take your son,” he demanded.

  Blane accepted the sleeping child as Ryder glamoured off his shirt and his rippling muscles were exposed. His brands ignited, slithering over his flesh as raw power exuded and filled the room with a tangible hum. He held no weapons on his person; no one else had joined them in the room yet. Blane stared at the dragons that covered his torso and chest. He felt the hatred, the anger of being a helpless child all over again as he stared at the exposed back of the person he’d sought to destroy since he’d been a child.

  He placed his sleeping child into the cradle beside the bed and eyed the sword that rested against the wall, across the room. A few steps and he’d be to it. His heart hammered as his palms itched with sweat at the need for revenge.

  “You can fight me, or you can let me try to save her life, dragon. You cannot have them both. Choose,” Ryder’s tone rumbled thickly, sliding over Blane as his eyes held golden ones. Ones he watched so long ago as his mother and siblings were slaughtered.

  Memories flashed in his mind, but it wasn’t what Kerrigan had instilled in him from that tender age. He didn’t remember this creature ripping children apart or defiling the women that day so long ago. He swallowed hard as the image of this creature and the men who stood with him moved through the palace, shoving men off the women and pushing the children from the room. He had told the truth. He hadn’t been the one to slaughter the women and children; he’d tried to prevent it.

  Blane was no longer in the room with his wife and child. He was a lad, watching the terror of that event unfold. He had stood behind the tapestry with his nurse covering his mouth as he cried for his mother. Golden eyes had discovered him, holding his. Then, just like that he’d turned away from him, letting him remain hidden from those who sought to destroy them. Ryder had let them go; he’d allowed him to survive it.

  “You saw me,” Blane muttered as he scrubbed a hand down his face. “That day, you saw me in the tapestry, watching what was unfolding.”

  “I saw no dragon hiding that day. Just a young boy who was terrified,” Ryder grumbled. “I was told to kill dragons; you weren’t a dragon yet. I let you go because you weren’t who we came to kill. Now choose; she doesn’t have much time.”

  “Save my wife,” he uttered. “Save the queen.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Blane and Fyra sat beside the cradle where Fury slept, blissfully unaware of the chaos in the room. Ryder had climbed behind his sister, cradling her against his chest as his thick black brands pulsed, while others chanted. The entire place was tense, filled with Fae who all worked together like a well-oiled machine as they pulled the iron from Ciara’s system.

  More and more Fae continued to sift in, including the healer, who brought Remy with him, placing him beside Fury in a bed he glamoured. Remy shook his head with pain in his eyes.

  “I failed you, Blane.”

  “You couldn’t see them,” Blane exhaled. “We didn’t know they were here. You didn’t fail me, we were ill-prepared.”

  “You knew Kerrigan was turning against you and you didn’t confide in me until today, why?” he demanded as he tried to sit up.

  “Stay flat or bleed out,” Eliran snapped. “I will tend to my sister now.”

  He nodded as Fyra slid beneath him as she let him rest on her lap, holding his head as he spoke to Blane. “We’re your fucking family, remember? We’ve been family since I found you and Fyra in the forest as nothing more than fucking orphans. You should have told us sooner.”

  “You knew what was happening when you put Ciara in chains.” Fyra fumed and the room heated to an uncomfortable level. “You didn’t trust me.”

  “I didn’t know who to trust, and I had to make it believable to protect Fury and Ciara from Kerrigan and those who followed him. I needed you to be believable, and it had to be real. He was making plans to kill them, and I’d have abandoned my throne before I allowed it to happen. I’d have never married anyone else he chose for me. You all had to think it was real because he was the most conniving, cunning bastard among us. He’d have spotted it if a single facial expression was off, so no, I didn’t tell you because I knew I didn’t need to for you to stand with me. I didn’t know how far or deep his plot went, but when they sent us to the Horde castle to retrieve their children, we were supposed to die there so that he could take the throne for himself. This isn’t something he hasn’t thought through.”

  “I thought you didn’t trust me,” Fyra whispered. “You could have, you know. I’d die to protect you, Blane. You’re my king.”

  “I also married Ciara who was Fae. The same ones who slaughtered our families, Fyra,” he muttered as he dropped his head into his hands and shook it. “People saw it as a betrayal when I refused to cast her aside and remarry once we had secured peace.”

  “I like our queen, you dolt. She’s fierce and brave, and she is everything we need. She’s endured hell at the hands of the same monster who slaughtered our people. She understands our pain, and she doesn’t make light of it. You couldn’t have picked a better queen for our people, and I sure as fuck wasn’t marrying you. I love you, but we split up because I didn’t love you like that anymore and I never had. We grew up together, we are as close as any brother and sister could be, and that alone meant we were not meant to be. You and Ciara are perfect rulers for our people, and they agree. Kerrigan didn’t have the support he thought he did, or we wouldn’t have slain dragon warriors covering the floors of this kingdom again.”

  Blane lifted his eyes and stood, moving through the crowded room to reach Ciara’s side. He knew Fyra followed him and he was thankful to have the support among all the Fae who had gathered in the room.

  Ciara’s eyes were opened and focused on him as a weak smile filled her lips. His heart thundered as relief washed through him. His knees buckled beside the bed and an anguished cry left his lips as he thanked the Gods for sparing her.

  “I’m okay,” she whispered roughly, her lips dry and cracked as her hand extended for his. He reached out, holding it as he dropped soft kisses to her palm.

  “I’ve never been so fucking scared in my life,” he uttered as he lifted his eyes to hold hers. “I can’t do this without you.” Admitting it in front of the Fae wasn’t ideal, nor did he care. “You’re my world.”

  “I am?” she laughed but ended up coughing up black stuff that caused the room to move into action. Eliran was pushing people away as he pushed her down, pouring golden liquid down her throat. She sputtered, coughing and choking as they held her down, and then Ryder changed to the beast. He was incredibly tall, black iridescent wings unfurling as golden brands mixed with black. Synthia stood at his back, a golden Goddess who stared at Blane as if she assumed he would attack the beast as he worked on his sister.

  Blane held his palms up and shook his head. “Just save my world, she’s my fucking soul.”

  “I know, and he is mine. So while you are family, it will take a while to trust you,” she explained as her eyes changed from blue to glowing azure. “The beast is the only one who can withdraw the iron killing her. He’s the only one stron
g enough, but he has to be in this form to do it. Hold your son and pray to your Gods, Blane. We’re going to need them all to save her.”

  “She was just fucking smiling,” he hissed.

  “I know she was, because she’s stronger than most people. She’s endured torture and still smiles as if she isn’t haunted by the pain. She’s broken, and yet those cracks let the light in so that she loves selflessly. Those cracks let you in, they let her love slip through somehow. You need to do the same, so you can start healing. Use those cracks that monster created to let her in. She thinks you’re worth saving, so let her teach you how to love again.”

  He nodded as his heart clenched; he didn’t need the cracks to let her in. She’d wiggled right through them and stared him down in open challenge. She’d made broken look beautiful, as if it was what made her so damned sexy. She was a mess, just like him. Yet she smiled with a light that no one could snuff out. She smiled with pain in her eyes that she didn’t care to hide from him, showing him that broken wasn’t a permanent place to stay. It was a staging point, and where you chose to go from there was up to you.

  He moved to the cradle, picking up Fury, and knelt beside Remy as he placed him on the bed beside his best friend and brother in arms. Fyra knelt beside him, and they bowed their heads, praying Ciara survived this.

  His head dropped as he became weightless.

  He stood up, staring down at his body that was praying against the bed, and looked around the room as the Fae stood around the bed, peering and watching as the beast pulled endless iron from her blood.