by Julia Mills
A shrill howl, so full of defiance and wrath that it hung above them, assaulted the Seer’s every sense. Pushing through the pain, he took another step forward, roared in return to mask the cloud of ash and smoke he blew at the demon.
“NOW!” Fury bellowed, the huge feet of his dragon decimating all in their path as he and the others moved forward, everyone chomping at the bit to tear the hairy legs from the abomination before them and rip the black heart from his grotesque body.
The disturbingly wonderful crunch of the octopods’ bodies was the serenade to the battle that solidified the connection between the dragons and the shiften. A toothy grin spread across Fury’s dragon’s face as every one of Khain’s horrific eight eyes opened wide, the realization that he was not only outmanned, but about to be overpowered, finally dawning on the demon.
Spewing acidic fire as he backed across the meadow, the Great Destroyer wailed, “ATTACK! ATTACK!” Coating the air with deadly black magic in a bid to reenergize his army of spiders.
Kayne countered the demon’s deadly mysticism with blasts of sunlight, allowing the others to continue their forward assault. Balls of fire flew from Fury’s dragon, combining with Pippa’s flames, incinerating as many of the eight-legged freaks as they possibly could.
Narrowing the distance between himself and Khain, Fury leaned the long- neck of his dragon forward, forcing the demon onto two of his back legs, his torso flat against the massive trunk of a sycamore. Blasts of venom flew from the humongous arachnid’s mouth as he shot fire in every direction from his other six legs that looked as if they were floating in midair.
“Hold on, Pippa!” Fury commanded, once again wrapping his tail around her waist, but this time laying her on her stomach upon his snout between his eyes and nostrils. Showing her his plan telepathically, he added, “When I give the word, you know what to do, aye?”
“Oh, hell yeah,” she snickered. “Let’s barbeque this piece of evil shit.”
“Anything for you, mo ghrá.”
Swerving left, then right, maneuvering his large body with ease, Fury came at the demon from the side, bellowing, “NOW, PIPPA! NOW!”
Flames shot from his mate’s hands a split-second before Fury opened his mighty jaws, reigning dragon-magic-filled-flames on his enemy. Crisscrossing his fire with Pippa’s, the power of their connection morphed the red blaze to burnished-gold inferno. The electrical charge of their bond shot through his massive body, lifted him from the ground and propelled both the dragon and his mate forward with no more than a thought. Demonic screams of terror rang through the forest as a golden, dome-shaped net of the couple’s combined fire dropped to the ground, closing Fury, Pippa and Khain within its perimeters.
The screams of his brethren and of the shiften seemed miles away as Fury refused to back down. Making absolutely sure his mate was shielded from the demon’s caustic venom, Fury conjured a bubble of his own magic around her, then advanced, bringing his wings forward, aiming the deadly claws lining their edges at the horrific torso of Khain’s spider.
Slashing through the leathery skin of the spider’s body, Fury forced the pain aside, refusing to abandon the fight even as the deadly poison of Khain’s black blood ate through the delicate connective membranes of his wings. Summoning every molecule of power, not only from himself but his brethren just beyond the enclosure, the Seer thrust it into his flame. He watched, mesmerized, as his and Pippa’s combined fire morphed into a dazzling burnt orange, igniting the gruesome hair covering Khain’s mammoth spider body.
Inhuman shrieks tore at the magical fabric of the net, Fury’s body shook from the magnificent power flowing through every fiber of his being as flames shot in every direction, incinerating anything and everything around it. The air was sucked from his lungs a split-second before an explosion sent the dragon’s massive body flying backward, black blood, along with bits and pieces of spider and acidic venom covering the entire clearing in a hail storm of death and destruction.
Landing with an agonizing whap! against a large, impenetrable rock formation. Fury laid his dragon head on the ground and called to Kayne and Zachary with his failing breath, “Protect Pippa!”
With his vision narrowing to a single pinpoint, he wheezed, “Khain is not dead, but he’s gone for now,” as Pippa cried out, “I swear, Fury if you die on me, I’ll kick your ass!”
“I love you, too, mo ghrá,” he slurred as the last glimmer of light bled from his vision.
Chapter Thirteen
“He’s gonna be okay. You have to know that, Pip, no matter how scary it is right now,” Kayne patted her shoulder for about the hundredth time since they’d carried a bruised, blistered, battered and unconscious Fury into the home of Dr. Remington Gilman, the shiften’s physician.
Wade, who’d shown up right after Fury passed out and Khain had once again disappeared, explained that Remington was a felen, aka cat shifter. Pippa didn’t care if the guy shifted into a hummingbird as long as he could help Zachary get Fury back on his feet. A muffled chuckle snuck from her lips at the smooth voice and suave demeanor of the felen. There was no doubt in her mind that the tall, good-looking man, complete with an earring, turned more than a few female heads.
Nodding as a way of answering Kayne, her mind’s eye glued to the bond glowing a brilliant lavender deep in her heart and soul, pulsing with the love she and her dragon shared, Pippa thought about Zachary’s comments as he consulted with Remington… “We only have to monitor his progress. I’ve done a complete check-up and there is nothing he and his beast cannot heal. Thank the Heavens, that bloody demon didn’t use silver.”
His gravelly chuckle had been reassuring as he continued, “We dragons go into a Healing Sleep, a type of magical coma that gives both man and dragon time to rest, repair and recharge. Fury is one of the strongest Guardsmen I have ever known. His strength along with that of King Amarock’s soul should be more than sufficient to heal his wounds and restore his magic.”
“How are you doing? Having dragon scales and some fire to throw around had to be fun, even if we were dealing with a demon.” Kayne’s laugh pulled Pippa from her thoughts.
“Yeah, it was,” she grinned. “And I know Fury’s gonna be okay, really I do.” She sighed. “I just hate that he was hurt defending me.”
“Girl,” Kayne shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Guarding one’s mate is the highest honor for us crazy old dragons. It’s what we were made to do. Don’t ever let old hothead in there hear you talk like that.” The demi-god chuckled and slapped his leg. “He’ll get all Celtic on ya’, speaking the old language and pacing about. It’s quite a show.”
Pippa nodded, giving Kayne a half-smile as her eyes remained glued to her hands clasped tightly together in her lap. Biting her bottom lip, she sighed, “It’s just that it’s been four days and he hasn’t even moved, not one single muscle. How long does this whole Healing Sleep thing last?”
“It’s different for every dragon,” Zachary answered, walking into the room, and taking a seat opposite Pippa and Kayne. Laying his hand on her knee, the Elder Healer smiled, “I could heal him and wake him up, but he and his dragon need this time. No matter how frustrating it is for us.” Winking, he added, “Go on in and sit with him. I know he’d like that. I checked all his vitals, and he’s doing fine. It’s just up to Fury and Amarock now.”
Thanking both Guardsmen, Pippa stood and walked out of the room, repeating the prayer Sister Mary Margaret had taught the girls of St Frances of Assisi to pray when they were visiting the wards at the County Hospital.
I never wanted the old nun to be right about God answering prayers any more than I do right now…
Entering Fury’s room, she gazed at the man she knew with every atom in her body was made just for her. Even resting comfortably on his back, covered from the waist down with a thin, white sheet, her dragon was an unstoppable force, one to be reckoned with any day of the week. The eyes of the deep purple dragon tattoo covering most of his chest, an exact copy of the on
e she’d seen him transform into, seemed to follow her every movement, winking the closer Pippa got to his bedside.
The need to hold him in her arms, to be close to him, to have the skin-to-skin contact her body and spirit craved, overwhelmed Pippa. Giving in to her desires, she crawled onto the oversized hospital bed, curled into his side, and gently positioned herself until his arm was draped over her shoulders. The electricity of their connection, sparks of wonderfully magnetic energy, skittered up her arm and down her spine, landing in the center of her being, making her heart beat faster, and her soul cling to its other half.
Laying her hand on his chest, smiling at the synchronicity of their hearts beating as one, Pippa let out the breath she’d been holding, her eyes slowly closing of their own volition. It was the first time since the males had brought Fury to Remington’s house/clinic that she’d dared to relax. Everyone, dragon and shiften alike, had assured her he would be all right…and she believed them, she really did, but if he didn’t open his eyes, move a finger, give some damn indication that he was coming back to her soon, Pip was prepared to dance on his chest, yelling and screaming his name to get her man up and at’em.
Fighting sleep, telling herself she needed to stay awake, to watch over her dragon, Pippa lost the struggle, and from one long, even breath to the next fell fast asleep. Her dreams flitted by on fast forward, finally stopping on a pitiful recollection of a place she’d visited many times when she was a child, the Tarrant County Fair. Because all the proceeds went to the St Francis of Assisi Home for Girls, Sister Mary Margaret insisted everyone attend, in full school uniform and smile at all the patrons who were spending their hard-earned money.
Looking through the eyes of a much younger version of herself as she turned in a circle, Pippa’s gaze landed on the dingy, striped tent of the Fortune Teller… Looking down at her black, leather Mary Jane’s shuffling through the sandy dirt, Pippa could hear the fake Romania accent of the woman resembling the half-off rack at Walmart with all her scarves and beads.
Running her fingers along the thin, woven fringe of the tablecloth covering a rickety, secondhand card table with a large sign announcing, ‘Madame Antoinetta, Renowned Seer of All Things’, Pippa’s special power to see a person’s past kicked into overdrive. Madame Antoinetta was actually Annette Rizzoli from Brooklyn, New York who drank too much, had horrible taste in men and owed every loan shark on the east coast more money than she could or would ever earn, even if she lived to be some hundred-and-fifty years old.
The tall, lanky girl with navy-blue ribbons hanging from the ends of her French braids, with no past and no future, an orphan from the moment she’d popped into the world, who only wanted to see her own past, have some bit or crumb of a clue where she came from, ran into the woods crying. Diving behind a hollow log, Young Pippa pulled her knees tight to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs and with her head buried in her skirt, let the tears flow.
“It’s just not fair,” she sobbed to herself. “These people are frauds. They lie and cheat, take people’s hard-earned money and make up stories of messages from loved ones who’ve passed. Which is bad enough, but then they get the poor suckers as they walk out the door, with bottles of olive oil packaged to look like love potions and tonics to ward off evil.” She pushed her face farther into the rough polyester of her school uniform. “It’s just not fair. I…”
And that’s where it stopped. There was no getting caught by Sister Agnes and no getting a month’s detention. No laughing and scoffing from the other girls…nothing…just the warm, wonderful scent of an open fire combined with the cinnamon sticks she loved to put in her hot apple cider. In that moment of clarity, Pippa finally realized that with Fury by her side, the bad memories were gone, washed away, never to return unless she wanted them to. No more scary recollections of a man who happened to bump her arm in line to get a cheeseburger or having to walk a damned mile in the shoes of the woman in the drive-thru at Starbucks. Her dragon, her miraculous mate, made everything better just by being by her side.
Gentle kisses like tiny raindrops on the petals of the roses in the prayer garden behind the chapel where she’d prayed every day until she was eighteen, touched Pippa’s forehead making her feel cherished and unconditionally loved for the first time in her life. Never wanting to leave the cocoon of her dreams, but needing to see her dragon more than she needed air to breathe, Pippa slowly opened her eyes looking directly in the deep, gentle brown depth of Fury’s.
“There ye are,” his deep rumble set her heart aflutter and her pulse to pounding.
“Me?” She teased. “I wasn’t the one sleeping on the job.”
“Sleeping on the job, was I?” His arm wrapped around her ribs pulled her onto his chest and just before his lips met hers, he added, “Let me rectify that right now.”
One simple brush of his lips, a tease really to anyone who saw, but so very much more to Pippa and her dragon, set into motion a hot, fiery, passionate kiss that seduced her senses and muddled her brain. She was lost to the love of her dragon, lost in the perfection of the spectacular moment in time they wove together…lost in a paradise that only their hearts beating as one could create.
“Pippa, mo chroi,” he whispered, savoring each syllable like a fine wine. “Will you be my mate, as the Ancients intended, together in this life and the next, forever and always.”
Clasping her hands on either side of his face, Pippa smiled, letting her tears of joy run freely down her cheeks and nodded, “Oh, yeah, forever and always and then some, my honest to God dragon man.” She kissed his cheek and winked, “And I love you, Fury MacTavish, more than I ever thought I could possibly love anyone.”
Chapter Fourteen
Pippa wanted a real Dragon Guard mating ceremony and in Fury’s world, what his mate wanted…she got - no if’s, and’s or but’s about it. The problem was, he didn’t want to wait the week or so for his dragon to be ready to fly again to get back home. So, after a lengthy, long-distance discussion with Rian, the Leader of his Clan and Carrick, the Leader of Zachary’s Clan, everyone agreed they could have an official ceremony in Serenity. Deciding to have Trevor, Graeme and Wade attend what was usually a completely closed, completely dragon celebration, well, that was all on Fury. He decided it was better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission.
In a true dragon mating service, the male was responsible for all the planning, even creating the design and commissioning the making of his mate’s dress. He also got to decide what color surcoats the Guardsmen in attendance would wear. Since, Fury was not in the Lair of his kin…he improvised the best he knew how in order to make everything perfect for his Pippa.
One trip to Chicago for an impromptu shopping trip where the sight of he, Kayne and Zachary had saleswomen tripping all over themselves to get their attention, and he secured a magnificent gown for his mate, as well as shirts and pants for all the men.
“Fury, I have to hand it to you, ya’ done good,” Kayne praised, holding up one of the shopping bags he was carrying. “I was worried you’d lost touch after all those years on your mountain, but ya’ surprised me.” He barked out a laugh. “I guess that satellite dish Declan and Brannoc hooked you up with has kept you in the swing of things.”
“Leave it to ye to reduce my Mating Day to some sorta commentary on fashion,” Fury rolled his eyes.
“Hey! Take a compliment, will ya’, ya’ old crank.”
“Boys, do I have to separate you?” Zachary added as they climbed into Pippa’s Jeep Cherokee to head back to Serenity.
“No,” Fury and Kayne chuckled in unison, filling the rest of the trip back with talks of how to help the shiften defeat Khain.
Passing the large bear statue, Fury called out to Pippa, “Are ye ready, my love?”
“So ready, dragon man” came her excitedly nervous reply. “Get on over here, and we’ll make it official right now.”
“Ha! Ye said ye wanted a real celebration and that is exactly what ye will get,” he sm
iled. “And that means we’ll no be seein’ each other until seven this evening.”
“Okay, okay, I know you’re right,” she chuckled. “I’ll behave…for now.”
Laughing out loud, Fury teased, “See that you do.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” He could see her mock salute with his mind’s eyes right before she added, “I love you, Fury MacTavish.”
“I love you more, Pippa Marie Sparks.”
The rest of the day was a blur of preparations and decorating, all of which Fury demanded he supervise. After finding the perfect spot, a meadow in the east corner of the forest, the farthest spot from where they’d fought Khain that he could find, the Guardsman, with the help of his brethren and the shiften, prepared to make his union with Pippa official and blessed by the Universe.
At exactly one-minute til seven, with the last rays of the sun shining over the hills behind him, Fury listened as the hooves of the horse he’d left for Pippa to ride, clip-clopped ever closer. Holding his breath as the scent of sea aster and blue-eyed grass from the cliffs and meadows of his homeland reached right into his chest and wrapped around his heart, the Guardsman breathed a sigh of relief when Pippa came into view.
She was nothing less than a vision in the pale lavender, silk sheath dress he’d purchased despite the saleswoman’s protests that it was a party dress, not a wedding dress. His eyes roamed Pippa’s seductive curves, taking in the sparkle of the tiny, multi-colored crystals decorating her plunging neckline and dancing like fairies to the hem that revealed her bright-red polished toenails.
With her long, red curls up in some type of gravity-defying style Trevor’s mate had fashioned, with soft wisps of hair framing her face, Fury had full sight of the lovely column of her neck. His mouth watered with the need to kiss and taste every delectable inch, preparing her silken skin for the mark from the Universe that would be indelibly branded upon Pippa at the conclusion of the ceremony. He touched the base of his neck, the spot where it met the top of his shoulder, smiling at the thought of his matching mark, the sign of true mates for all the world to see.