by Alexis Davie
Boss Dragon
Dragon Curse of Lunca
Alexis Davie
Boss Dragon
Text Copyright © 2019 by Alexis Davie
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
First printing, 2019
Publisher
Secret Woods Books
[email protected]
www.SecretWoodsBooks.com
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Other Books You Will Love
Thank You!
About the Author
Prologue
2981 BC
Lunca
Romania
Smoke rose up against the spiraled stone ceilings of the Lunca Palace and the smell of sulphur was putrid enough to suffocate even the strongest of men. Frantic orders were screamed over the sounds of explosions, shaking the grounds of the palace, but it did not deter the agile female figure from dashing through the hallways. Draped in a luxurious silver velvet hooded cape, her identity remained concealed only to those whom did not know her.
To those who did, she was Liris Veskovic, the Queen of Lunca.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she leapt over a large crevice in the floor, and as the floor crumbled behind her at a rapid pace, she knew what she had to do. There was no other way.
Out of the corner of her teal eyes, an unnatural movement caused her to turn around and her heart sank. Rhaena the Wicked, was closing in on the royal hatchery, and the Queen knew she had to stop her. There was only one reason – or four – why the witch had caused this much destruction to the palace, but the Queen would rather perish herself, than allow that fate.
The Queen leapt onto the stone ledge and threw herself into the air, her silver cloak glimmering behind her. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she raced after Rhaena.
The stone wall of the hatchery exploded into fragments of different sizes, flying by the Queen’s face, but she managed to dodge them every time. The determination and resilience coursed through her veins, and gained on Rhaena.
The Queen stepped into the hatchery, which was eerily quiet and scanned the cave-like room. Flames erupted from a corner and Rhaena appeared, her staff violently flashing bolts of lightning.
“You will not take them,” the Queen bellowed, her sharp voice edging through the room, through the echoes of chaos and turmoil which besieged the palace.
“There is nothing you can do to stop me, Liris,” Rhaena shrieked, as she raised her staff, aiming it at the crystal nest in the center of the room.
The Queen’s eyes flashed viciously as she leapt towards Rhaena, only to be deflected by the witch’s staff. She fell onto the marble floor but immediately rose to her feet.
“You cannot do this, Rhaena,” the Queen called out to her, but the witch did not acknowledge her.
A piercing yellow light spewed from the staff, directly at the nest. The Queen ran towards the nest with complete and utter abandonment, ignoring her sensible thoughts. Her instincts had overpowered her rational thinking, and now she would fight to the death if needed.
The Queen’s eyes flashed once more, and the stone wall behind Rhaena instantly crumbled. Stones fell onto the old witch and the staff broke in half, vanquishing the yellow ray of evil which descended onto the nest.
It was quiet for a moment as the Queen carefully and slowly approached Rhaena, cowering under a large rock which pinned her to the ground.
“I tried to warn you, Rhaena,” the Queen uttered, no emotions on her beautiful face, her golden hair whipping in the wind.
As she stepped closer, she heard Rhaena muttering words she knew too well, having heard them before many times. “Rhaena, no!”
Red smoke flowed from Rhaena’s fingertip and whirled towards the nest.
“Stop!” the Queen ordered.
With her final seconds of life, Rhaena flicked her wrist, and the red smoke suddenly vanished. Her hand went limp, followed by a low rumble under the Queen’s feet.
Then silence.
Deafening silence which shook the Queen to the core. She rushed over to the nest, glanced down at the four dragon eggs before her. Blue, red, purple and silver, they were all there, and unharmed.
Physically at least.
Footsteps, which were the same pace as her heartbeats, grew louder in the hallway, and Arlo Veskovic, the King of Lunca, and her beloved husband rushed into the hatchery.
“Are you all right, my dearest?” he asked as he touched her shoulders and his eyes trailed over her body.
“I am fine, Arlo,” the Queen insisted. “Rhaena on the other hand...”
The King looked to where the body of the witch lay on the floor, still pinned to the ground by a large boulder. “You killed her.”
“She was going to harm them,” the Queen said and motioned to the eggs.
“But they are unharmed,” the King stated.
The Queen bit her lip and shook her head. “I had to stop her, but I was too late. She…”
“She what?” the King asked. “What did she do?”
“She cursed them.”
The King glanced at the eggs and his lips snarled in anger, his brow furrowing heavily as he glanced back at the Queen. “There is no need to worry, my love. They will be strong and fierce. No curse can compete with that.”
The King gently wiped a tear from under the Queen’s eye, but a soft crackling sound made both the King and Queen turn to the nest.
“It has begun,” the Queen gasped and a tender smile formed on her lips. “Our children are ready.”
1
Present Day
Auckland, Australia
The exhilaration of flying was very much overrated. Flying through the clouds, seeing the world down below in its miniature form, was breathtaking to say the very least. It was even more exhilarating for Oryn, as he felt the wind on his face, and the clean fresh air filled his lungs.
His large green wings shimmered in the sunlight, a wingspan like no other dragon he knew of, stretched out at his flanks, slicing the clouds into multiple smaller specks. After reaching his desired altitude, he dove down towards the water, his speed increasing every moment. Close to the water’s edge, he swooped up, missing the water by mere inches. He lowered his head, his green eyes glowing contently as his scaly feet skimmed the water of the South Pacific Ocean.
Every other morning, he made a point of flying out into the blue skies, away from any form of human life. He considered this his private time, to reflect, to soothe himself, and to prepare for yet another day between the mortals. It was time where he could be himself, his true self, without being prosecuted or shot down.
Sadly, Oryn knew exactly what humans were capable of doing to dragons and to any immortal being. He had heard horror tales of immortals who had been experimented on and ultimately tortured to death. It was not a fate Oryn wished for anyone.
He did not despise the entire human race; that was completely irrational, and he was well aware that there were in fact honest and good humans. They were simply hard to find.
; His mother, the Dragon Queen, Liris Veskovic, had taught him to treat people with respect, and if it was not reciprocated, he would treat them as they treated him. Or better yet, he cut them out of his life without feeling a shred of remorse. Oryn was done with toxic people in his life, having had a vast experience with those kinds of relationships. He had also spent too many nights wondering what people thought of him, before he realized their opinions of him did not matter in the least.
Oryn was the oldest of the four Dragon Princes, and the most sensible as well. Overthinking was one of his favorite pastimes, but also his biggest vice. It seemed tedious to his other brothers, who were more impulsive than him, which made Oryn seem like the boring brother. Of course, he didn’t care much. He also didn’t understand why being steadfast, dependable, and responsible was boring. At least he didn’t set an entire village ablaze and burn it to the ground, leaving no survivors. That, of course, was a tale for a different day.
Oryn flapped his magnificent wings, boosting him a few feet in the air, and gazed out at the endless waves in front of him. The freedom he felt was indescribable, and a part of him wished he could stay in his dragon form. This, obviously, wasn’t possible, being the owner and CEO of one of the largest data storage companies in the southern hemisphere.
He recalled the days of his childhood flying across the Norwegian Sea, when there were no such things as radar and air control. It was just Oryn and his brothers.
The four Dragon Princes had been scattered across the world during the last war, crippling the dragon population down to only a few hundred, the equivalent to a mass genocide that had occurred in the middle of the twentieth century. Yet another tragic event which could have been avoided if humans didn’t think they were smart enough to rule the world and play God.
There were only a few remaining bloodlines left dating back to the Origin Era, when the princes had been born. Over the next five thousand years, their numbers had increased, but only three families had endured the First War. It was also the reason why Oryn and his family had had to leave their city, their home, and everything they cared about. They had had to go into hiding for a thousand years, and that experience had certainly humbled him.
When humans began to multiply in great numbers, they soon figured out where the immortals hid and hunted them down. The shifters began to assume the shape of humans more permanently as a means for survival. It was devious to hide in plain sight from those who hunted them, but it was the only way. The immortals had inhabited the lands first, and they would never give up their territory, or their world, for the humans, hence why they tried to live in peace with them.
Oryn descended closer to the water as a strange pulse echoed through his mind. There was a ship nearby, and Oryn knew he had to turn back. He most definitely didn’t want to get spotted by a ship, although most people wouldn’t believe the tales of a dragon flying around the Pacific Ocean at dusk.
The sun peaked over the horizon, setting the sky above him and the sea below him on fire, and he was drenched in orange and red. Again. Nostalgia hit the eldest prince like a tsunami, and he was overcome with emotions. He longed for his brothers’ company, even if they didn’t always see eye to eye. The four were very different, each one settled in their own corner of the world, for each other’s safety.
It was told that once the four princes united, their powers would magnify at such an alarming rate that all forms of life would not stand a chance against them. His two youngest brothers, Dax and Nyx, were all for it, but being the sensible one, Oryn had politely declined and moved to New Zealand, where he was not only happy, but had the freedom to take to the seas whenever he wished. His mother insisted these tales were true, although Oryn was naturally inclined not to believe the old tales, except for the most famous tale of all.
The curse of Rhaena the Wicked.
He and his brothers had been cursed by the wicked sorceress. The curse was meant to last five thousand years, and in that time, the four brothers would not fall in love or find their True Mates. Cursed with a lonely life, the princes seemed to handle it well.
Oryn was rather devastated when he had learned of this curse, as he felt comforted by the idea of spending his life with one person who was designed for him, and he for her.
As if the main objective of the curse was not damning enough, they were also doomed to possibly kill or harm their True Mate—if they managed to find them, of course. This was rather problematic to Oryn, and he didn’t want to risk getting close to anyone on the odd chance that they would be his mate, which he doubted.
Statistically, the chances of him finding his mate was very, very low, and in Oryn’s mind, numbers never lied. He also didn’t believe in destiny or chance, but that everything was a calculated path which ran its course as different choices were made.
Oryn was used to being relentlessly teased by his brothers, who were much more spontaneous and light-hearted than he was. Admittedly, he did get lonely by himself, which was why he threw all his energy into his business: a multibillion-dollar company storing and retrieving digital data for clients all around the world. He even had branches in the Philippines, Sweden, and the United States, which he visited on a regular basis, just to confirm that everything was running smoothly. He did not distrust his staff; he was just a control-freak who needed to see for himself that everything was going well.
Another vice, in his brothers’ opinions, but Oryn didn’t mind. He was content. There had not been an attack on his family for the past ninety years, yet as much as he wished it wasn’t so, something in his gut told him that he should prepare himself. Paranoia, though not a good trait to have, was better than being dead.
With that thought in mind, he changed direction and flew back home, still close to the water. His green scales blended in well with the water, especially in the dark, but the orange rays shining across his sleek body made it a little easier to spot him. He hadn’t realized he had been flying for such a long time. Usually, he’d make it back to shore just as the sun came up. He scolded himself for being so careless. He couldn’t slip up again or put himself at risk.
When he came close enough to shore, still about fifty miles away, his body jolted downward, and he dove into the water in a smooth and effortless manner. He descended into the depths of the ocean, ensuring he would not be detected. With his wings now curled up against his lean body, he cut through the water at a magnificent speed, leaving only a trail of bubbles in his wake. As the depth of the water began to decrease, the rays of sunshine occasionally broke through the water.
Oryn was in Coxs Bay, minutes away from his home and private dock.
His shoulders contracted as he effortlessly shifted into his human form like he had been doing for five thousand years. It was difficult at the beginning, when he was required to be in his human form most of the time, but Oryn was in complete control of himself. Without fail.
He broke through the surface and took in a deep breath of air, hoisting himself up onto the wooden deck beside the boathouse where his boat was kept. Naked but unfazed, he strutted into the boathouse and retrieved a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. After getting dressed, he made his way up the wooden stairs leading up to the backyard of his house and walked inside.
Oryn took a long, hot shower, washing the cold and salty water of the South Pacific off his skin, though it was far too deep to truly wash away. It was in his soul, and it was a part of who he was.
When he had decided to relocate to New Zealand, he had fallen in love with it instantly, and he felt at home, in the same way he had felt at home in Romania. Oryn was destined to be there, between the oceans and the green lush forests, to thrive and be himself, even if it was only for himself.
Oryn glanced in the mirror as he folded his tie—not that he needed to see what he was doing—and he pursed his lips. Dressed in a suit, as he always did, his shoulders appeared broader than usual, and no one would think that, underneath the suit and the polished businessman he appeared outwardly, there was a drag
on prince who possessed the ability to control earthquakes and end the world if he wanted to. Sometimes he did.
Oryn was quiet in his car on the way to his offices, but his driver, Jayce, didn’t speak a word or ask him anything. Oryn was better left alone in times like these. The pensive expression on his face was another sign that he wished to be left alone, and Jayce knew this too well. He had been Oryn’s driver for the past five years and knew exactly how to read him, which was no surprise, since Jayce was also a dragon.
Although some of his employees were also immortals, Oryn never felt the need to let them know he knew of their abilities, or their immortalities, for that matter. Most of the time, he kept to himself, pondering the mysteries of the universe while he soared above the clouds.
Oryn had been born with the gifts of the Earth—hence being an Earth Dragon—and it clearly showed: he loved being surrounded by nature. He was often found outdoors, especially when he was a child, frolicking around in the dirt, unearthing the mysteries in the soil. Climbing trees in his human form had been one of his favorite things to do while they’d been in hiding, and he was often the lookout. His radar helped him to detect any lifeform from miles away, and he’d notify his family right away.
His Jaguar came to a stop in front of his office building, and Oryn climbed out.
“Thank you, Jayce,” he told the driver. Jayce simply nodded.
Oryn felt as though he may have been a little rude as to not talk to his faithful and loyal driver that morning, but he had a lot on his mind. He had spoken to his mother last night and had a long and in-depth conversation about being alone. Of course the Dragon Queen was convinced that it was not the best idea for Oryn to spend his life alone. As he was the most family-orientated prince, he was most likely to seek out a mate first, but in all fairness, she also knew that Oryn thought too rationally, and he wouldn’t want to endanger anyone else for the sake of raising a family.