Ash Bringer (A Storm of Fire: Paranormal Dragonshifter Romance Book 1)
Page 8
“Are you eating with us?” Ronan asked, looking up at me with the richest, blue eyes.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out for a while.
“No,” I finally said.
“Ronan.” Lukan waved the boy over, standing from his seat.
I glanced his way just as Keera joined him. She was tiny next to him, like something he could break in half with one flick of his wrist, but to my surprise, Lukan reached over and placed a gentle hand on her back. Bending, he whispered something in her ear. Keera gave him a nod and walked around the table, taking a seat beside him to eat. I would have thought the two were lovers by the way he touched her.
I took an apple from one of the bowls as well as three pieces of toast. I would have taken a pastry, but Draven was too close to the tray for my comfort. Pity, since there were some chocolate raspberry scones in the arrangement that I could have devoured in one bite. I salivated at the thought of popping one of those in my mouth, but Draven’s presence was enough to sour any pleasant thought. I shot him a sharp stare before marching out of the room in a direction I hoped was a way out of the building. I was in desperate need of fresh air. Keera called after me, but I ignored her gentle voice and retreated into the hall and down a flight of stairs.
Once I came to the bottom floor, I found my way to the front door and stepped out into the cold morning air of the courtyard. I took a deep breath, reveling in the freshness of it as I bit into the dry toast. I was in such a hurry to get out of the manor that I hadn’t taken time to get jam or butter, but then again, food was just there to keep me alive until I could figure out a plan.
I stopped on the porch atop a flight of grey, stone steps that widened as they descended into the yard. There were hedges surrounding a large, cobblestone circle where the fountain and the rearing horse made the centerpiece. I’d barely noticed when I was brought to the manor. It was a stunning sight to look at now, but once more, the thought of where I was made it less appealing. I sighed loudly and walked down the steps, one heavy step after the other. Gods, I wasn’t even hungry once the disappointment hit again.
Walking slowly, I began to go over possible futures in my head, wondering which one would hurt me the least in the end. I always wanted to go out in a way that meant something, although that seemed like a far cry from reality now. Now all I could see myself doing was dying in an attempt to kill Draven. That didn’t mean much. It would be for revenge and Taurus had taught me better than that. Things that caused me pain weren’t worth dying for. That’s what he always said, but killing Draven was all I could think about at the moment.
Sitting on a stone bench, I took another bite of toast and gave it some thought. They were killable. Otherwise, slayers wouldn’t be such a threat. I just had to figure out how and since Taurus never shared that part of his life with me, I was stuck thinking about rumors. Cut off the head. That’s what most people said. Stab them through the heart. Some said that, too, but Draak hearts weren’t always so easily located. Their whole biology was still somewhat of a mystery. I was willing to learn about it if it meant getting a step closer to ridding myself of Draven.
Fantasizing about driving a knife into Draven’s chest only made the day marginally better. Closing my eyes, I imagined how it would feel to see his face twisted with pain and regret and it woke a bit of sadistic pleasure in me to draw out that feeling in my head. I watched the whole thing play out in many different ways, slowly eating my toast. I could have been there for hours and I wouldn’t have known. I even laid down on the bench, apple still whole and resting on my stomach, as I dreamt up creative ways to murder him in my mind. Every scenario became more violent until I began to scare myself with the length of my imagined tortures. Skinning him alive. Cutting off his limbs while he watched. It was all tempting, but completely impossible, of course. Draak, especially Ash Bringers, were complicated.
When I heard a small shuffle behind me, I opened my eyes and craned my neck to see what it was. Only six feet from me, where the stone turned to lush, green grass that extended into a wall of trees, was a small deer. I had never seen one so close before. She was a delicate looking thing with skinny legs and large, alert ears that turned toward every sound like antenna trying to pick up a signal. The rest of her herd was a ways away, but this one braved a venture inward where there were flowers to eat at the edge of the courtyard. I slowly sat up, trying not to startle her, and stared with awe until a slight smile began to shape my lips. Watching her quietly nibble on the flowers, graceful and pure, I suddenly forgot most of the dark thoughts in my head.
When my feet touched the ground, the deer’s head shot up to look at me. I paused, trying not to frighten her away, and continued to watch her graze. The daring doe put her tiny hoof on the cobblestone, moving in for more flowers, and as she did I looked down at my apple. Bringing it to my lips, I bit into it and tore a small piece of the fruit off between my teeth. The sound caught the doe’s attention again, but I could see her black nose twitching with interest as the sweet scent rolled through the air. Scooting slowly off the bench, I lowered myself into an unthreatening position closer to the ground and carefully extended my hand with the apple piece between my fingers.
“It’s ok,” I whispered.
The deer stretched her head forward, timid at first, but when her lips touched the apple she pulled it into her mouth and chewed it. Once she was done, she took another step forward, sniffing for more. I bit another piece off and handed it to her. She took yet another step inward, growing more comfortable with me by the second until she was nibbling on the apple straight from the source. I smiled, letting out a gentle chuckle as I placed my other hand on the top of her neck, stroking it lightly.
“I’ve had a rough few days,” I said to the deer. “You just made it a little bit better.”
When the deer had finished eating the other half of my breakfast, she trotted off toward her herd, a bounce to each of her dainty steps.
“I’ve been trying to get that one to eat from my hand for weeks,” I heard Keera’s voice behind me. Suddenly my smile was gone as I stood from my crouch to face her. She was smiling innocently, making her cheeks rosy with joy. “She’s the only one that comes close to the house.”
“Maybe you smell too strongly of Draak,” I said. “What do you want, Keera?”
Her grin flattened and suddenly I felt like I’d slapped her across the face.
“I just wanted to talk to you. We haven’t spoken much since—”
“Since I was branded and enslaved?”
She looked defeated by the statement, but in her own, shy way she prepared a little retaliation and straightened her posture to continue.
“I know you don’t like them,” she said. “But you don’t fully understand them.”
“I don’t need to understand them,” I said, walking away from her and into the grass.
Across the grass lot, I could see wood fences, behind which was a small group of horses grazing on the dewy grass. I made my way toward them, distancing myself from the building where those foul men were probably still sitting at the table without a care.
“The brand isn’t just a means to bind you to a Draak,” Keera continued. “It’s more than that.”
“So you’re telling me that it won’t hurt me if I get too far from him?”
“That’s a myth. It will only hurt you if your Draak wants it to.”
“And you really think Draven won’t want to hurt me?”
“There are unwritten rules to the bond. Inflicting pain is against them.”
“Somehow I don’t believe Draven plays by any rules.”
“Well...the bond can also give back, too. Unbound women, for instance, can’t give birth to Draak. The fire consumes them and they die. Their children become—”
“Pikes. I know. I was raised by one, remember? The one Draven shot in the head. As for being able to give birth to Draak children, I would rather die.”
“If you’d just listen to me. I want things to b
e better for you. I was hurt when Draven killed your mentor. I don’t like that you’re in pain because of it.”
I arrived at the fence and grabbed the top rail, squeezing tightly to keep from slamming my fist into it.
“What’s your story, Keera?” I said, expecting her to spew some bullshit about how she worshipped her Draak masters like some sad little priestess on her knees in a temple. “What’s with you and Lukan?”
“He saved me,” she said. I rolled my eyes, preparing for a story that would make me want to hurl. “My home was plagued by sickness when I was little. The outbreak killed hundreds. To save surrounding towns, the Draak decided they had to burn the place to the ground and the sickness with it, but before they did, my parents handed me over to Lukan, begging him to spare me. They pleaded with him, asking that he not kill me with the others. He didn’t, but that night my home and everything I knew was burned to ash. It was a long time ago. Much longer than you would think.”
I looked at her, searching for age lines now where there were none. She was as youthful as a girl just out of her teens, but she spoke as if the event happened ages ago.
“You age well,” I said. “One of the perks of being bound to your lords and saviors, huh?”
“The marks are more complicated than you know. I became a servant in this very estate all those years ago. I was indebted to Lukan and his brothers for sparing me and protecting me. Admittedly, Draven was against it. Valerio vouched for me, though, and I was welcomed into their family. When I turned nineteen, I realized I had affections for Lukan. I didn’t think of myself as worthy, but Lukan assured me I was.” She slowly turned around, taking down her hood and showing me the bare skin on the back of her neck where a faint handprint was stamped on her soft flesh. “It’s where he put his hand when he kissed me for the first time.”
“So...you’re together?” I said, furrowing my brows at the girl as she turned once more to face me.
“I’m his,” she said. “And I wouldn’t want it any other way. This mark gives me life. Keeps us close. Allows us to understand each other in ways that no one else ever could. He protects me and I show him the affection he needs. And…” she lowered her head momentarily to conceal a faint smile. “I gave him a son who lights up both our lives every day.”
I tilted my head. “Ronan? He’s your son? He said his brother—”
“He refers to all of them as his brothers besides his father, Lukan. They all do. At least around here.” She paused for a moment, her eyes becoming solemn as she dropped her gaze briefly to the ground. “We had another son. Vyctor. He...he disappeared many years ago. He was the head of Ares’ security force.”
I nodded, the pain in Keera’s voice hitting me, but not hard enough for me to weep over her loss. I didn’t even know her. I took a deep breath and diverted from the subject of her missing son.
“No desire to have a daughter, huh?” I asked. “You bind yourself to a Draak and all you get is sons. And don’t tell me that sliver of a chance you have to birth a daughter is worth anything.”
“You’re right. I accepted I’d only have sons.”
“So you’ve abandoned your people.”
“To me, the Draak and humans are one in the same. We share a world, don’t we?”
I shook my head, tossing the ideas around in my skull, and turned toward the pen just as a massive, grey stallion was approaching to greet us. The animal was a marvel to look at, its broad neck and braided mane like a piece of art in the form of a living beast. I extended my hand to brush the backs of my fingers against the stallion’s velvety nose, trying to find peace again before I hurt myself expressing my anger.
“This is Jericho,” Keera said. She hesitated, watching as my hand slid up the length of the horse’s head to its long forelock. “He’s Draven’s.”
My hand stopped on the beast’s forehead and I slowly drew it away, my jaw muscles pulsing at the idea of Draven riding such a gorgeous animal.
“So he owns you, too, huh?” I muttered softly at the stallion. “Guess I have one creature to relate to in this hell hole.”
“Jericho was lame when he was born,” Keera said, stroking the horse’s cheek as it hung its head over the top of the fence. “He couldn’t stand and everyone said he’d be too weak to survive. Draven refused to put him down and now he’s the biggest stallion in the heard.”
“Stop,” I said through my teeth, throwing Keera an irritated glower. “Stop talking about him like he has a soul. Like he’s not a cruel monster.”
“I’m—”
“Stop,” I demanded again, turning to face her, shoulders squared angrily. “He’s not human. He’s not good.”
“He lost a brother,” Keera said quickly. “He’s just as angry as you are.”
“Taurus didn’t do it. Draven took someone that meant everything to me, so don’t try to humanize him. He’s a killer. He’s Draak. He doesn’t care about humans. He doesn’t care about Pikes. All he cares about is himself. Someone who can destroy a life so easily has no remorse. No compassion and I’m going to escape this place and him. Even if it’s the last thing I do.”
I stormed off before Keera could say anything more, eager to distance myself from anything or anyone that would try to convince me that Draven was anything but awful. Escape or murder. It was all that was on my mind now.
12
Draven
. . .
After assessing Everly and her presence at the estate, I left again, unable to stay in one place too long after recent events. I stood on the outskirts of the sector upon a sharp rock cliff that hung over the ocean. A cold mist rode the air around me, pulling a hazy veil over the tree-lined coast. I was alone in quiet nature. I could think. I could plan and reflect, and today, with only the hushing calm of the ocean sliding against the rocks below, I stood over a mistake.
The mistake lay at my feet, a burly, lifeless corpse that had been alive not long before. A Pike with a grey beard and a menacing frame. A slayer. Looking down at the body, I grew irritated that the woman, Everly, cared for this creature. Then again, I was more irritated at myself for acting rashly. I had never been known for being level-headed. That was always Valerio’s area of expertise.
This Pike, Taurus Black, was no angel. He’d been a known rebel with the Falcons for decades. He had numerous Draak slayings under his belt and aided in some of the most disturbing attacks known to the Draakir. Yet somehow he’d earned the love of a human. And I was to believe she had no part in his activities? I wrinkled my nose, part of me feeling pity toward Everly. If she really had fallen for Taurus’s lies, she was just a poor, naive girl.
I crouched down beside the Pike, staring at his bloodied head where I’d put a bullet in his brain. He smelled like smoke and fire. They all did beneath the pretense of their humanity. Reaching down, I moved the neckline of his white prison jumpsuit aside and found a tattoo planted on the left side of his chest in the shape of a falcon’s head. I grimaced, hissing at the mark, and stood again, looking out toward the vast, open ocean and the low-hanging sun perched on the horizon. This place was peaceful. This place was home now. There was nowhere else for the Draak to go.
I breathed in the salty, fresh air, cooling the fire in my lungs for a moment before I let it ignite in my veins. It coursed through me like a tree taking swift root and flew through every limb and crevasse of my body. I willed it outward like a hunter ordering his dog to attack.
Glancing down at the damp ground below my feet, I watched a wave of orange flames rush from me to the Pike’s body. In a matter of seconds, the corpse was consumed in a cocoon of fire. The smell of his flesh cooking under the heat stung my nose. I’d never been one to enjoy the odor of burning corpses, despite the fact it was the one scent I knew better than all the rest. I stepped away from the growing blaze, watching as the flames ate away at Taurus. In moments, he would no longer exist. Soon, his memory would be the only thing that lingered, and it lingered in Everly. Still unsure exactly what I wanted with her, I l
et my eyes wander back toward the horizon in search of peace. There was none for me. I knew that, yet still I looked. In truth, who and what I was meant I would never find it.
I stayed to watch Taurus’s ashes drift away with the last remaining flames. Once all that remained was a black shadow on the soil where he once lay, I took a few steps toward the edge of the cliff, my boots crunching on the burned ground. Taurus’s scent was still in the air. That ashy, rotten smell of old flesh that had been charred just seconds earlier. I let the breeze carry it away and then took in the fresh air that followed. I needed to relieve some of the tension that had built inside of me. I closed my eyes, trying to will it away, knowing that if it festered too long it would end up destroying a lot more than one Pike. More than a few rebels.
Yours will never be a peaceful path, a sweet, calming voice whispered across my mind. Because of what you are.
It had been a while since I’d heard her voice. I opened my eyes again and wished I could see her. I could still remember what she looked like, but it was just an image now. Just another stain that wouldn’t burn away. One that I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
Taking another step toward the cliff, I let the fire consume me again. That comforting, agonizing heat was a burden and a gift, and every time it truly took over it was a release and a prison all at the same time. The beast was like another soul imprisoned in a man and when it flooded outward, the man became himself imprisoned. In all my centuries of life, I hadn’t yet found balance. Perhaps there wasn’t any. When the dragon broke free, part of my mind fell away. Action took priority over thought.
I traveled far from the sector. South, where the trees and humidity turned to sand and warm air. The outer territories were a mostly unorganized stretch of scattered population and anarchy. No formal laws, no formal leaders, no control. Part of me enjoyed the idea of a society without guidelines, but the outer territories were far from the freedom most expected when they left the sectors. They were filthy, loud, violent, and filled with people claiming to be rebels. In reality, they were just looking for personal gain. A reason to harm. I found myself walking down a street that had once been paved, but neglect turned it to a cracked and uneven asphalt covered with dirt. Buildings had not been maintained. Cars were old and rusted. People were loud and obnoxious. This was not a place for people that stood for something. It was for people who stood for nothing.