Dragon's Fire: A Reverse Harem Romance

by Lili Zander

  “Not the trusting kind?” He turns to the silent woman. “Fetch the wolf.”

  She disappears without a word. I stay where I am, my pulse racing. My head is dizzy, and my mouth is dry. A powerful sense of wrongness overtakes me.

  Every path has led to destruction. In every iteration of the dream, Silas has died.

  There has to be a way to save him. I’m missing something. Something important. Something huge.

  Steps approach. I look up to see Silas walk toward us. His hands are tied in front of him, and there’s a chain between his legs, preventing him from running free. One eye is swollen shut, and dried blood is caked on his face. Anger rises in my breast, sure and swift. “What the hell have you done to him?”

  Zyrian’s expression turns mocking. “Those small wounds?” he laughs. “That’s nothing. Not compared to this.”

  He slashes with his right hand. The air turns into a ruthlessly sharp blade.

  One that slices my father’s throat.

  A thin line of red appears on Silas’ skin. As I watch in horror, blood starts to gush from the wound. My father makes a strangled noise and falls to the floor.

  I run to his side and drop to the floor, cradling his head in my lap. Tears fall unchecked down my cheeks. “Silas,” I whisper. “No. No. Please…”

  “I’m not a fool, Aria.” Zyrian’s voice is hard. “You see, I know you. You’re the heroic type. I’m sure you’ve walked in here, absolutely prepared to die. Ready to sacrifice yourself, ready to purify the magic inside the Bloodstone with your blood. You think that it’s a worthwhile trade. Your life for mine.”

  “What have you done, you psychopath?” I lace my fingers in my father’s. Hold on, Silas. Just hold on.

  “There’s only one way to save him.” Zyrian’s eyes are bright with anticipation. “In my castle, I reign supreme. Give me the magic of the Bloodstone, and I will heal the wolf.”

  So much for my half-formed plans. So much for my willingness to die. The Dark Dragon has always been one step ahead of me.

  Fuck.

  Zyrian’s powerful, smothering magic is winning. My own magic, a warm flame inside me, flickers. There’s just an ember of flame left. Just one tiny, hopeless spot of persistent fire, buried deep inside me.

  I have to give Gideon Zyrian the Bloodstone. It’s the only way to fix the damage I’ve caused.

  There’s no way out. No path to success. The Dark Dragon has won.

  107

  Erik

  I feel her despair as if it were my own.

  Her pain blankets my mind. Her anguish clouds my vision. I move on auto-pilot, cutting through the wolf-shifters.

  Lift. Parry. Thrust. Repeat.

  But we’re weakening.

  The magic innate to the dragons not only gives us speed and strength. It’s responsible for our extended lifespan.

  And without it…?

  Separated from our powers, we can’t last. Soon, we’ll reach the point of no return.

  Bastian, Casius, Rhys, and I form a wall around Mateo, shielding him from the battle. In the normal course of things, Valentini’s perfectly capable of defending himself. Ruthlessly skilled with a sword, he doesn’t even need to access his magic to dispatch his enemies.

  But right now, Mateo needs to do more. He needs to throw off the shackles Zyrian’s placed around his magic. He needs to break free and help us do the same.

  There are too many wolves. We can’t fight our way through them all. And as my eyesight blurs with Aria’s tears, a fist closes around my heart.

  She needs us more than ever, and we’re not at her side.

  I’m failing her, the way I failed Gisele.

  Bitter history is about to repeat itself, and there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it.

  108

  Aria

  Slowly, I straighten and get to my feet. My hand grips the hilt of my sword, my knuckles white. It takes all the restraint I possess, every single bit of self-control I have, to keep myself from lunging at the hated mage.

  “You can’t hurt me with that blade, Aria.”

  He’s right. I can’t. But the moment my fingers close over Endellion’s hilt, something happens.

  Something magical.

  Casius looked up the history of Endellion back in Maija’s library. “Endellion is an ancient Celtic word for fire,” he’d said to me. “I wonder why they named your sword that.”

  I know now. Because when I grip Endellion and pull it out of its sheath—as I have in every dream—something unexpected happens.

  My magic blazes in response and flares back to life.

  And with that, the last piece of the puzzle falls into place.

  You can’t defeat the Dark Dragon alone, the wraith had said. I had focused on the ‘you can’t defeat the Dark Dragon’ part.

  I should have been paying better attention. Because the ghostly woman had given me a valuable clue.

  I can’t do this alone.

  But together with my mates?

  I thought to protect them from this. But I was wrong. Going lone wolf was a mistake. We’re a team. We’re in this together.

  I have a split-second before Gideon Zyrian realizes I’m brimming with magic. A split-second to act.

  Use the vial.

  I give Silas one last agonized glance. His breathing is troubled. I have minutes to staunch the blood. Minutes to fix this mess that I’ve caused.

  I take a half-step toward Zyrian. “I have only one thing to say to you.” My fingers close over the bitchy head alchemist’s potion. I don’t like her, but I’m sure glad right now that she likes to brew dangerous poisons. “Go to hell.”

  And then, before he can react to my defiance, I fling the magic-suppressant at his face.

  It works. Zyrian’s face goes slack with shock, and he freezes in place.

  I have five minutes. Tops.

  First things first. I rush to Silas’ side. Closing my eyes, I feed my magic into him, giving him my strength and staunching the blood flow. He’s so pale. So cold. His breathing is faint, and I pray with every fiber of my being that I’m not too late.

  Zyrian’s moving now. I feel his thick, oily magic struggle to reform, struggling to smother me once again.

  I need my mates.

  Closing my eyes, I search for them and stiffen with shock. They’re right here. Just outside the castle. They’re fighting a pack of wolves. Bastian’s bleeding from a cut on his shoulder. Casius is favoring one side. Rhys and Erik look no better. And Mateo? Mateo is pale, weaving on his feet, his face strained with effort as he fights against the pervasive tug of Zyrian’s darkness.

  Warm pleasure blooms in my heart. They came for me.

  When I translocated Bastian and Erik a few weeks earlier, I needed to borrow strength from Mateo, Casius, and Rhys to summon up enough magic. Not this time. My magic blazes forth, blood red and hot. The Bloodstone flares to life as well, and then, with a whoosh of air, my five dragons materialize into the room.

  Mateo is the first to react. He catches sight of Silas and moves immediately to his side. He places his palm on Silas’ neck, and I watch with awe as the cut knits together.

  When he’s done, he looks at me. “Zyrian’s almost free,” he says. “Let’s get out of here.”

  But I’m in the grip of forces greater than my own. Some instinct guides me. Shapes my voice. “No,” I say quietly. “I know what to do now.”

  I’ve dreamed this dream many, many times. I’ve seen every permutation and combination of this moment, but every one of them has led to failure.

  And then Endellion amplified my fading magic, bringing it back to life. Then I knew what I had to do.

  “All our blood,” I say clearly, knowing the moment the words leave my mouth that I’m right. They’re my mates. My blood. And with our combined strength, we will prevail.

  I pull my sword free of its sheath and slice my finger on it. The Bloodstone pulses with awareness, straining against the barrier that binds it. “All
our blood,” I repeat. “Not just mine.”

  “Of course.”

  Casius takes the sword from me and grazes it against his bloodied side. Rhys goes next, then Bastian, then Erik and finally Mateo, who nods intently at me. “Now, tesoro.”

  Tesoro. Treasure. They’ve made me feel like the most precious treasure in the world from the moment I met them.

  I take the blood-splattered sword from Mateo. I know, as surely as my name is Aria Archer, that this last part has to be me. I close my hands over the hilt, and with a deep breath, I plunge the sword into the heart of the Bloodstone.

  The trapped magic inside the gemstone explodes free, dark and tainted. It rushes up the blade of Endellion, snaking around the steel, reaching for my wrist. I don’t fight back. I let the tentacles of darkness enter me. This is my destiny.

  Magic swirls through me, pulsing through my veins, draining the strength from my blood. My mating mark pulses to life, and I sink to my knees. It’s draining me. Too much, too fast. Rushing out like water from a fire hose, rushing into me, threatening to drown me in its wake.

  But in my mind’s eye, I can feel Mateo steady me. Casius behind him. Then Rhys, and Bastian, and finally Erik. All ready to ease my burden. All ready to lend me a shoulder, to catch me if I fall.

  They shore me up. Strengthen me. Protect me. Absorb the magic into their own bodies.

  I see Zyrian move. He turns toward us with his arm outstretched, tugging at the magic of the Bloodstone, trying to grasp it for himself.

  No! Not on my watch.

  I yank it back, hard, and the threads snap back into me. Zyrian screams with rage. “What have you done?”

  I don’t understand, but there’s no time to find out what he’s talking about. I’m bursting to the brim with power. It’s too much. It’s burning me up, and I can’t hold on. I can’t keep it contained.

  “Let it go, Aria,” Bastian says, his voice quiet but certain. “The world has long been starved of magic. It’s time to let it free.”

  It’s just as well. Because I can’t do anything else. My body feels hot, itchy, prickly, and overstuffed with dragon magic. As swiftly as it surged through me, it surges back out, and this time, not even their combined strength is enough to aid me.

  My vision goes blurry. My legs give way, and I fall in a dead faint.

  The first thing I see when I wake up is Silas. His expression is filled with fear, and he’s gripping my hand between his. When he sees that I’m conscious, he exhales in relief. “Thank heavens.”

  I sit up, wincing as I do so. I’m as weak as a newborn puppy. “You’re not bleeding,” I whisper. “I thought… for a minute there, when Zyrian slashed your throat…” I can’t continue. I never want to relive that dreadful moment when I thought Silas was dead.

  “You’re not the only one who was terrified,” Silas scolds me. “What on Earth were you thinking, marching in here on your own?”

  Ahem. I give my mates a rueful glance. “I’m sorry. I thought I had to do this by myself, but I was wrong. I needed you.” I draw a deep breath. “No, not needed, past tense. I need you. I love you.”

  Erik wraps his arm around my waist. “I love you too, princess.”

  The others murmur agreement. I fold my mates—Erik, Bastian, Rhys, Mateo, and Casius—into a tight hug. I’d stolen Bastian’s plane. For them to be here, they must have left Castle Jaeger almost as soon as I’d called. No questions. No hesitation. Just pure, unadulterated support.

  Rather belatedly, I remember the Dark Dragon. “Where’s Zyrian?”

  “He got away,” Rhys says, sounding remarkably unconcerned.

  “What?” I pull away and look at them, aghast. “Why didn’t you chase him?”

  Bastian makes a scoffing noise in his throat. “You fainted,” he says. “Do you think any of us could have left your side, mausezähnchen?”

  Mateo gives me a reassuring look. “You stripped him of his magic. He’s powerless and can’t do much damage. We’ll find him soon enough.”

  “I stripped him of his magic?”

  “Didn’t you feel it?” Mateo asks. “When he tried to steal from the Bloodstone, you yanked back.” His lips curl into a half-smile. “You’re more powerful than you know, tesoro.”

  I grope for the red ball of magic inside me. It’s still there, but it’s the same size as before. “Not anymore,” I reply. “The power’s gone. It drained out of me. I’m no more magical than I was before.”

  And that’s just as well. I have no desire to become like Maija Essen. I don’t want to be responsible for the fate of the world. I don’t need the pressure and the responsibility.

  “So Zyrian’s gone.” It feels like a weight is off my shoulders. “And the curse is broken.”

  Bastian’s sense of relief is palpable. “Yes. At long last, we’re free of the Dark Dragon.” He presses a soft kiss on my palm. “Thanks to you.”

  I feel myself start to flush and hastily change the topic. “What do we do now?”

  Rhys chuckles. “We go home, love. Go on more dates. Live our lives without the threat of dark magic. Find a new place to live. Drink beer. Eat spaetzle. We live happily ever after.”

  “Dragons don’t have to live under a shadow anymore,” Erik adds. “A new age is dawning. Maybe we’ll restore the Council of Thirteen.” He gives me a wicked grin. “And we still have to formally introduce you to the world as our mate.”

  “That part sounds like hell,” I respond, though I can’t keep myself from smiling back. “But the rest sounds pretty damn good.”

  Epilogue

  Aria

  Three months later…

  “You look beautiful, love.” Rhys nuzzles my neck, his lips feather light on my skin.

  “Hmm… so you’ve said.” I turn to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pulling him down for a kiss. “You’re looking mighty fine yourself tonight.”

  “Just tonight?” Rhys kisses me again, his hand sliding down my back until it’s cupping my ass. Cheeky dragon.

  “Enough of that you two,” Bea cuts in with mock irritation. “We’re going to be late.”

  “Are you sure we don’t have time for a quickie?” Rhys whispers in my ear, his eyes heated.

  I give him a smacking kiss on his cheek. “Nope, don’t want to miss the party.”

  “It’s my freaking party,” he grumbles. “I should be able to spend my birthday buried deep inside my mate…”

  Bea puts her hands over her ears. “La-la-la-la, can’t hear you,” she sings.

  I grin. I haven’t had a night out with my best friend in forever. This party is happening whether Rhys pouts or not.

  Our limo pulls up outside of Cellar, and I feel like we’ve come full circle. The curse is broken. Zyrian’s magic is gone. I have a feeling we haven’t heard the last from the Rogue Prince, but for now, we are all healthy and happy.

  “Nothing against Cellar, but remind me again why you picked this place instead of Lounge 88?” Bea asks Rhys.

  I laugh at her total disregard for subtlety. Lounge 88 is evidently the place to be right now. It’s a members-only bar, and Bea’s been dying to see what the fuss is about. Of course, Bastian happens to be a member.

  Rhys squeezes my hand. “This is where I met Aria,” he says. “This is where my life began.”

  Bea makes a gagging sound. “Oh God, if you’re going to sprout cheesy lines like that all night long, I’m out of here.”

  I brush a kiss on Rhys’ lips. “Leave him alone,” I scold her. “If he wants to drink cheap beer and eat greasy bar food for his birthday, then that’s what we’ll do.”

  We make our way inside. I can’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia. So much has happened since the night I first met Rhys and Mateo here. I never in a million years would’ve thought that I would be in a committed relationship with one man, let alone five dragons.

  Despite everything we’ve been through, or maybe because of it, I am happier than I’ve ever been.

  Bea sidles
up to Jesse, and he wraps her in a possessive embrace. She beams up at him, and my heart warms. Bea has a man who dotes on her and will do anything to keep her happy. She’s enrolled in beauty school for the fall semester. Life is good.

  Everyone’s here already. I see Silas and Sarina at the bar. I make my way there and hug them.

  “Little cub.” Silas beams at me. “I’ve missed you.”

  I laugh. “You just saw me two days ago at lunch.”

  “Don’t mind him,” Sarina says, giving my father a fond smile. “He’s had a pint or three already.”

  Bastian pulls me away from Silas and kisses me soundly. “Mausezähnchen, you look lovely.”

  “Don’t hog Aria,” Mateo gripes, reaching for me.

  I willingly go to his arms and hug him tight. “You’re not jealous, are you?” I tease, knowing full well that he’s not. This has become a bit of a game between the guys.

  “It’s Casius’ turn to be jealous, tesoro.”

  “What is this, ‘Pick-on-Casius’ day?” Casius grumbles, taking a drink of his beer. “It’s Rhys’ birthday, pick on him.”

  “Poor Casius,” I croon. I wrap my arms around him from behind, my chin resting on his shoulder. I nip his earlobe. “Tomorrow is date night… I was thinking maybe we could stay in and play a game.”

  “A naughty game?” Casius asks hopefully.

  “Soo naughty.”

  A throat clears. “No groping in front of your father,” Silas says, loud enough that it turns heads. Sarina claps her hand over his mouth, her eyes dancing with laughter.

  Gotta love shifters. Pretty much nothing can faze them.

  We fall into easy conversation. After a minute, I realize Erik’s nowhere to be seen. “Did Erik bail?” I ask the others. Things have been amazing between us, though he’s still less social than my other mates. I suppose spending so many years alone has made him more of a solitary creature, but I love him just as he is.