Ash Bringer (A Storm of Fire: Paranormal Dragonshifter Romance Book 1)

by Courtney Leigh

  “Thinking about Everly?” Lukan said gently. I looked up at him. “She’s going to be ok,” he assured.

  “This time,” I said. “The whole world knows she bears my mark. The whole world, including the rebels and the Zephyre, know that I have a very big weakness.”

  “And if you out yourself, the whole world will also know you’re the Archon,” Valentyne said. “Your reputation was a menacing one even before this new development. If you ask me, the safest place for Everly is as close to you as she can be.”

  I breathed steadily, trying to imagine explaining that to Everly when I’d already promised to remove my mark if she chose to request it after the gala. I found myself wishing she wouldn’t want that when she woke. After everything that had happened, the idea of letting her go made my heart heavy.

  “Well,” Valentyne exhaled. “I’d like to do some digging to find out more about our elusive Zephyre guest. I’ll be returning to Wrenhil.” He bowed his head as he stepped away. “It’s been exciting, gentlemen, as always,” he said as he departed, leaving Lukan and I alone in the quiet dining hall.

  I was deep in thought when Lukan cleared his throat. I looked at him, waiting for the question I could sense on the tip of his tongue.

  “So?” he said. “About Everly.”

  “What about her?” I asked flatly, trying to control the reactions the mere sound of her name inspired in me.

  “Draven, you gave her your blood to bring her back from the edge of death. You can’t deny things anymore. I saw you holding her in the foyer. It’s been over a hundred years, but I’ve seen fear on your face before and that was fear. You were afraid to lose her. Are you really going to deny that?”

  I waited a few breaths before I spoke, hoping I could say something more intelligent to counter Lukan’s accusations, but it was no use. Instead, I simply spoke on a sigh, the one word that I could muster.

  “No.”

  37

  Everly

  . . .

  When I woke, I wasn’t in bed. I wasn’t lying on a floor. Instead, I was in a burnt field that smelled of charred flesh, coal, and dirt. Draven stood in the field of ashes, smoke and embers floating on an angry wind. Flames had ravaged an entire valley and left only dust and the blackened skeletons of trees and buildings in its wake. Matching the mayhem, Draven was dressed in black leather, a dark grey fur draped over one shoulder and held on by chains. On his back was a bow of black, metallic material scattered with almost glowing veins of blue energy.

  Like a ghost unseen, I stood in front of Draven, my bare feet buried in fluffy ash. His copper hair was longer than I remembered, tied in a heavy braid. The look on his face was that of hardened fury and disdain like I’d never seen. I only thought I’d seen the extent of his rage before now. The way his eyes glowed with fire, red and gold veins framing them, was demonic and terrifying.

  Behind him appeared three men, almost as frightening. Almost as angry, but not quite. One was a tall, silver-eyed, menacing creature with thick muscle, hair closely shaved to his tattooed scalp, and black leather much like Draven’s. It took a moment to realize it was Lukan, having never seen his tattoos.

  Beside Lukan was a man I didn’t recognize. He had a slightly leaner build, with long hair in a golden-red shade that seemed to change color as he turned.

  The third man caught me by surprise. He stepped up beside Draven, a mirror image of him in every way save for his fury, and this man’s copper hair was pulled back into a bun rather than braided. Valerio.

  “We can’t keep doing this,” Valerio said in a beautiful, graceful language that wasn’t English. Somehow, though, I understood him as if it was. He stepped forward, placing his hand on Draven’s shoulder. “This war is destroying us.”

  “It already has destroyed us,” Draven said with a feral growl, shrugging off his brother’s touch.

  “Draek’vehn,” Valerio said with more force. The name was different on his lips. The pronunciation was so much more rigid. “As the Archons, we can’t just let our people die.”

  “So we run?” Draven glared, baring his fangs when he spoke.

  “We live. The Leviathan are killing us. Every time we fight back, our numbers are cut smaller. The Kumirians are cut smaller. We’re destroying this world, just like Draakon.”

  “You started the war on Draakon! You angered those who should not have been trifled with. You failed to kill the one woman whose death could have changed everything. You began this for us, and I will finish it.”

  “Don’t feed my mistakes, brother.”

  “I won’t stop until every one of them, and the witches that control them, are dead,” Draven hissed, marching off through the ash and throwing up dust in his wake.

  The others remained, silently thinking, until Lukan finally shook his head and paced toward Valerio.

  “The witches have already destroyed too much,” he said in a much rougher voice than I was used to. “Our families. I can’t abandon him before this is over. None of us should.”

  Lukan gave the other two men a fierce look before he stalked off after Draven, leather-wrapped hands in tight fists.

  “Well,” the long-haired Draak said with a sigh, resting his hands on his belt. “That went well.”

  Valerio seemed troubled beyond what his expression could show. “My brother is going to get himself killed, Saak’zen.”

  “He’ll take a lot of enemies down with him.”

  “We need to find a way to get off world or we’ll just burn with it.”

  “Where we go, worlds fall. Perhaps we’re the World Enders.”

  Valerio looked Saak’zen in the eyes, sorrow and anger marrying in a storm within his gaze. “Not forever.”

  The air was cold on my skin when I slowly opened my eyes to the sliver of sunlight coming in through the velvet curtains. My body felt spent, my joints stiff like they were filled with sand. I turned my head carefully away from the blinding daylight, taking a deep breath into my chapped lungs.

  I sat up carefully and let the cotton sheets slide off of me to reveal a loose knit shirt and shorts. I swung my legs over the edge of the mattress, fighting through the stiffness in my bones, and began a slow attempt to stand. I failed, falling back down on the bed before I could straighten my legs.

  The door clicked, drawing my eyes, and through it came Keera with a tray of tea cups and hot water. When she noticed me, her feet stopped mid-stride and a beaming smile lit her face.

  “You’re awake,” she said, setting the tray down on the bedside table. She began to examine my condition with the cool tips of her fingers, feeling the warmth of my face and looking into my eyes. “How are you feeling?”

  “A little like I’ve been rolling in a cement mixer,” I grunted. “How long has it been?”

  “Two days.”

  I almost choked when I heard that. “Two days? What happened?”

  “You don’t remember?” She blinked. “You were shot. Draven brought you back.”

  Suddenly the memories came rushing in like a splash of cold water on my face. The compound. The multiple blows to my head. I remembered the unexpected, desperate feeling I had when I realized Draven was hurt, and the mixture of fear and astonishment when he broke free and lit the holding chamber on fire. My body jolted as if re-experiencing the moment when the rifle went off and the bullets plunged into me. I must have gasped, because Keera quickly grabbed hold of my hands and held tight, staring with concern.

  “Everly?” she said. “You’re ok now.”

  The words exchanged between Rikard and Draven flashed through my thoughts, the word “Archon” reverberating louder. Looking at Keera, I searched for explanation, though I wasn’t sure what she could say to me that would make any difference. I watched her, waiting for her to put my mind at ease with some kind of comforting words, but instead I saw brief, unclear images. Ronan. Lukan. A small town I didn’t recognize. I turned my head down, rubbing my brows and pulling my hand free of hers in an attempt to block them out. />
  “Everly?” she said again, concerned.

  “I’m fine,” I dismissed. “Just a little disoriented.”

  Keera pulled up a small chair and sat down, situating herself as if she was about to give me a serious talk. I drew up my legs onto the bed, taking long, steady breaths to calm the anxiety that was festering inside me.

  “I think you should see Draven,” Keera said. “You two have some things to talk about.”

  “I was planning on it,” I admitted. Keera’s stared like she was waiting for me to say more. “What?”

  “When you came back to the manor,” she said, keeping her voice calm like she was trying to break bad news to a child, “You were almost dead. Draven closed up your injuries, but you’d bled out.”

  She stopped, clearing her throat as if she was nervous to go on. I looked down at my hands, palms loosely facing up toward me, when I felt more memories rush back into my head like a shower of arrows. Panic and confusion swept over me. I saw the white floors of the foyer covered in red. A jumbled sound of muffled voices whirled around me like my ears were pressed behind pillows. I felt a cold, sharp eeriness slide across my skin and burrow deep into my chest where the thump of my heartbeat was almost unnoticeable. My body was a hollow vessel where warmth was slowly slipping away.

  “Everly,” Keera’s urgent voice pulled me back, yanking me into what I could only guess was the present. It was hard to tell with the way my mind was jumping from place to place.

  “I bled out,” I said, the words more weighty on my tongue than they were on Keera’s.

  “Draven saved you,” she explained. “He gave you his blood.”

  “He what? That’s...what?”

  Keera nodded, looking at me like she was expecting me to jump up and toss the tray across the room, but I didn’t feel anger. Why would I? It saved me. He saved me. Again.

  I leaned forward, standing once more from the bed in an attempt to rid myself of the aggravating weakness in my muscles. I was unsteady, but I didn’t fall.

  “I should talk to Draven,” I said. “Is he ok?”

  “He’s fine,” Keera nodded. “He’s been trying to find answers since you’ve been resting.”

  The information about Draven’s wellbeing affected me much more than I expected it would. Though I didn’t have any real doubt that he was ok physically, I was wondering how he was after finding out about Valerio and about Rikard. I knew I certainly wasn’t too stable after the things I’d found out about Taurus. All the candles in my mind had been snuffed out in my sleep, but knowing I was going to see Draven again lit up the darkness. My breath trembled from my lips.

  “Are you really ok?” Keera asked, taking my shoulders lightly in her hands.

  “I’m ok,” I nodded. “I’m hungry and I smell, but I’m ok.”

  “Well,” Keera smiled. “I’ll draw you a bath and then take you to find something to eat.”

  Keera helped me to the bathroom and aided in undressing me. As she filled the in-ground tub with hot water, she added a few oils that made the room smell like lavender, rosemary, and tea tree. They melded together in the steam and when I slowly sank into the water, the warmth engulfed me like massaging hands leaching the sting from my muscles. Keera rolled a towel and placed it at the edge of the tub so I could rest my stiff neck on it as she combed the knots out of my hair.

  “The oils will help with the soreness,” Keera said. “Even as an Ashling, Draven’s blood is a lot more potent than you’re used to.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Hmm,” she searched her thoughts for a way to explain. “Lukan explained a blood exchange to me once. It’s like lifting weights that exceed your limit. Your muscles are torn and your bones are a bit more dense than you’re accustomed to. For the time being, anyways. You were superhuman...but of course you were an unconscious superhuman.”

  I huffed. “How much blood did he give me?”

  “Well...your heart stopped beating,” she said softly. “He gave you as much as you needed.”

  I hesitated to respond to that information for a while, slowly raising a hand and resting it over my heart beneath the water. I could feel the beat thrumming against my palm. Stronger than usual, like any small sprint would make it burst out of my chest. Swallowing, I tried not to think about how exactly it all worked. Knowing there was Draak blood flowing in my veins was enough to make my head explode. Knowing it was Draven’s was almost too overwhelming to bear.

  “We’re all glad you’re alright,” Keera broke the silence.

  “Thank you,” I sighed heavily, closing my eyes to let my body absorb the relaxing caress of the bath.

  I could have fallen back to sleep in that position were it not for all the nagging voices in my head that I was unsure were even my own.

  “Draven hasn’t left the grounds,” Keera said before the silence could lull me to sleep again. I opened my eyes, staring across the room at the wall by the separate shower. “A lot has been going on, but he stayed here. Last I checked, he was at the archery range. If you want to speak with him, that is.”

  “There’s an archery range here?”

  “In the backyard. He needed to blow off steam. He and Lukan have been trying to find Ares since he disappeared from the gala. Mr. Valentyne’s been pulling some of his sources to help them, but there’s been no progress yet and Draven isn’t a very patient creature. He’s getting frustrated. Maybe you can calm him.”

  My mouth slanted with an amused snigger. “When have I been known to calm him?”

  After bathing, I dressed in an olive-green sweater and some leggings. I felt almost refreshed, but the growling in my stomach kept me from being completely restored. Keera walked me to a smaller dining area on the first floor and had me sit at a rustic wooden table surrounded by leather stools. She pulled out a few apples, bread for toasting, and jars of jam that looked homemade from a fridge that was disguised in the wooden wall. While she prepared a meal for me, I heard Ronan’s little voice from the hall and looked up to see him walking in to find his mother. When he noticed me sitting at the table, his face lit up brightly.

  “Ever!” he said, rushing over to wrap his arms around my waist.

  “Hey, kid,” I chuckled, placing a hand on his head.

  “Careful,” Keera said to him. “She just woke up.”

  “I thought you were going to die,” Ronan said.

  “Really? After all this time, you think I would die that easily?”

  Ronan shrugged and hopped onto the stool across from me. Keera pulled out an extra plate for her son and filled it with slices of apples and jellied toast. In that smaller dining room, with just Keera and Ronan, I almost felt like I was back in Greyport, comfortable and safe. The idea hit me like a brick. While most things didn’t seem real anymore, my current state of mind felt real enough to treasure.

  Finishing my tea, I thanked Keera for the meal and tried not to seem too anxious, but the only thing on my mind now was Draven. It had been two days since I’d seen him. Two days since the two of us had crashed into that storm of discovery together. Before everything happened, I already felt like I’d been cut off mid-sentence with him. Things had gone unsaid and now all I could think about was being in his presence.

  As if the thoughts were splashed all over my face in vivid paint, Keera gestured for me to follow her, a quaint smile on her lips. Ronan stayed at the table, licking the sweet jam off his bread so he could apply more and repeat the process. I ruffled his hair as I left, accompanying Keera to a door at the back of the manor that led out into a large yard. It was surrounded by giant trees and a few stone sculptures of gargoyles along a wide, brick path. Keera stopped at the head of the path and pointed up ahead where the brick narrowed and led into the trees. I’d seen that area of the yard before, but hadn’t ventured into the woods up the walkway.

  “He’ll want to know you’re awake,” Keera said. “The archery range is in a clearing right through those trees.”

  “I’m not go
ing to get shot by a rogue arrow am I?” I joked, suddenly nervous over the thought that I was going to see Draven again. I wanted so badly to tell him exactly how I felt and I had no idea how to go about putting it into words.

  Keera let out a sweet little laugh and shook her head as she turned to go back inside. Alone now, I ordered my feet to move on the slow, quiet trek along the path. My skin began to prickle with anticipation as I neared the treeline and crossed over onto a more rugged stretch of walkway made of raw-cut stone with tufts of grass growing from the cracks.

  The tree canopies cast shadows, but when I rounded a small bend, the clearing came into view, sunlight washing over the grass. In the center, his back turned, was Draven, nocking an arrow on a heavy recurve bow of red wood with copper detailing. Gods, why did he have to be shirtless

  He had on a pair of dark brown pants that hung low on his slender hips. His hair was gathered in a loose braid, strands hanging around his face and clinging to his sweat-damp neck. The sun glistened off his form, bringing out the slight gold hue of his skin. His muscles twitched when he drew the bow and loosed the arrow toward a stone statue with five arrows already buried in the torso. What looked to have once been a man in a suit tipping his hat was now a chipped heap of stone with holes in the body.

  Draven pulled another arrow from the upright quiver on the ground beside him, but before placing it on the bow, he paused as if his senses had finally kicked in. I stopped breathing when his gaze drifted my way, his warm eyes seizing me with an irresistible pull.

  He hesitated for a moment, his lips parting slightly with surprise before he slid the arrow back into the quiver and dropped the bow to the ground. When he started walking my way, my feet turned to concrete. I couldn’t move, as much as I wanted to. Part of me was afraid to. Another part of me just couldn’t handle the overwhelming feeling of attachment I suddenly got when I saw his face again.

  Draven closed the distance between us with a few long strides and my heart was sprinting in my chest. He wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting me off the ground with a deep, relieved sigh that shot down over the top of my shoulder and through my hair. I coiled one arm around his neck, relaxing my other hand on his chest. Every fiber of my body soaked him in, devouring the heat of his presence. The feel of his strong arms locking me tight against him. The beat of his heart tapped against my palm and all through my veins I was alive with that unique awareness he aroused in me.