Dragon Lover

by Karilyn Bentley

  But he wasn’t her savior, now was he? If he ever saw his daughter, his only offspring, she would have nothing to do with him. How could she after the great loss he caused her?

  This little one didn’t know his failings, she only knew he saved her.

  Come. Let’s try to find...He almost said her parents, but thought the better of it in case her parents were among the dead. Let’s try to find someone you know.

  She nodded, still holding his leg with a death grip. Taking a deep breath, he transported them to where he last saw Aryana, in front of the village.

  Keep your eyes closed. Last thing he wanted was for the young one to see the destruction, the death. The stench of it was bad enough.

  Aryana stood in the middle of the town, next to the bonfire, surrounded by the villagers. What would his life be like now if he hadn’t avoided her as a hatchling? One thing was for certain, he wouldn’t be trapped inside a dragon’s body, living life with the cloistered males.

  A series of small pops sounded as a group of warriors, both Watcher and Draconi, appeared beside him. None of the males looked too happy to be there, especially the Draconi.

  “Do you know what happened?” one of the males asked.

  Tyne was attacked.

  “So you don’t know why either.”

  Would I be standing here if I did?

  The male snorted. “Let’s go.” He gestured to the crowd surrounding Aryana. Eyes narrowed, the warriors marched into the center of the confusion.

  Another pop to his right had him turning in that direction. Thoren and Enar. He made an effort to keep the snarl off his face.

  “Hey, Fafnir. What are you doing here?” Enar walked toward him.

  “Who do you have there?” Thoren asked, following the blond Watcher.

  “I’m Elspeth. Do you know where my mommy is?” Elspeth poked her head out, disobeying his keep-your-eyes-closed order. Young ones.

  “I do not. Why don’t you stay here and we’ll find out for you?”

  “All right.”

  Thoren patted the girl on the head and walked into the crowd, leaving Fafnir with Enar.

  “Where did you find her?”

  Fafnir pulled his gaze from Thoren’s retreating back and focused on Enar. In a storage shed.

  “When the bad people came in, Mommy told me to run and hide. So I did. Lief followed me to keep me safe, but a bad person attacked him before I could hide. Do you know where Lief is?”

  Enar looked at him. Fafnir shook his head.

  “I don’t know. I’ll go help Thoren look for your mommy, all right?”

  “Thank you.”

  Enar grinned and turned to follow Thoren.

  How’s Lily?

  Enar glanced over his shoulder at Fafnir. Good. She’s really good. Stop by sometime.

  Only if you aren’t around.

  Enar made a gesture Fafnir hoped Elspeth didn’t see. A chuckle escaped his lips. He might actually be learning to like that Watcher.

  Stranger things had happened.

  Like discovering he had a daughter.

  He shook the thought off. Too much going on to get caught up in his own thoughts.

  “Elspeth!” a female cried, her shout cutting through the cacophony of voices.

  Small arms loosened their grip around his leg. “Mommy?”

  The female took two steps forward, disappeared, and with a pop reappeared in front of them. “Elspeth!”

  “Mommy!”

  Fafnir backed away, giving the reunion space. He wished for the same thing Elspeth had, for his family to embrace him into their fold. For their forgiveness. For their acceptance.

  For a life that didn’t involve a youthful arrogant attitude.

  Good thing Elspeth and her mother didn’t know what a sorrowful excuse for a male he was.

  A touch on his flank knocked him out of his morose thoughts. Elspeth’s mother stood beside him, clutching her daughter to her chest, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I don’t know what I would have done...” Her words faded into sniffles.

  You are most welcome.

  As if she felt his sadness, she offered another stroke on his flank before walking to where the bonfire leapt into the air, disappearing into the crowd. His scales felt lighter from her touch, as if all his troubles vanished with the removal of her hand, a feeling that rippled across his hide, burrowing deep inside his heart.

  His prior actions might have branded him a failure, a coward, a poor excuse for a male, but he’d found Elspeth and reunited the young one with her mother.

  Maybe there was hope for him after all.

  Chapter Three

  Aryana stared at the tents erected in the Temple Courtyard. Temporary housing for the displaced villagers. Once the Council warriors arrived at Tyne, she had taken the females and children and returned to the Temple. Helped erect tents. Swallowed steam every time she thought about the ruined village.

  “Did you find out who did it?” Aryana jumped as Annaliese touched her arm. “Sorry. I thought you heard me behind you.”

  “It’s all right.” She loved the feeling of her heart jumping out of her chest. “No, I didn’t find anything out. You?”

  “I looked into their minds and only the elderly male saw blond hair. Everyone else saw males in black masks, no discerning features. Which isn’t to say it wasn’t the Watchers.”

  “But why would the Watchers attack? And attack a farming village at that. Why not attack a town if looting was the goal?”

  “Maybe looting wasn’t the goal. Remember how Enar said there was a plot to overthrow us?”

  Aryana took a deep breath on the off chance it possessed some calming qualities. “The plot was to overthrow the Draconi, not the priestesses, and establish Watchers as rulers. The Council is supposed to be working on the threat.”

  “Clearly they need to step up the program.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t Watchers. Most of Tyne’s Watchers were killed defending the village. Would you attack your own race?”

  “If my goal was to overthrow what I considered a dictatorship and you got in my way, then yes, I would kill a member of my race.”

  Aryana shivered. Note to self: Do not upset Annaliese.

  “I suppose you’re right. This fighting is all new to me.”

  “I know.” Annaliese looked around the Courtyard at the city of tents. “Where is the male dragon who took you to Tyne?”

  “He and the other cloistered males are guarding the perimeter of the Temple.” Because nothing says love like a dragon brigade breathing fireballs on intruders.

  “You never did say how you met him.”

  Aryana felt her cheeks warm. As the possibility existed someone could overhear their conversation, she projected her thoughts directly to Annaliese. Her complete failure at flying, her plummet into a berry bush, Fafnir’s discovery.

  Annaliese’s eyes flared wide. “Oh my. Did you wipe his memories?”

  “I tried. Trust me, I tried hard, but he prevented me. Never had that happen before.”

  A shadow flickered behind Annaliese and Ari focused on the movement. One shadow split into three.

  “Help! Someone please help us!”

  A female and two young glanced around the Courtyard, their faces wide-eyed with fear, even as Annaliese and Aryana ran to meet them. Aryana touched the female’s arm, willing away her fear. The female took a deep breath, her tension releasing into the air on a puff of steam, while the youngsters darted behind her, clinging to her skirts.

  Not again. What enemy existed who coordinated attacks on her people? “What happened?”

  “We were attacked! Our village was attacked!” She shook free of Aryana’s touch, and reached for her children.

  “Goleb?” Annaliese asked, her head cocked to one side. It might not be polite to read minds without permission, but sometimes it helped.

  “Yes, yes, Goleb. Please, you’ve got to help us!”

  “I�
��ll go.” Aryana took a breath and swallowed the steam rising in her throat. Who was attacking Draconi villages and why? Was it the Watchers? If not, then who managed to get past the wards?

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Annaliese snapped. “Call the Council. You aren’t trained to fight. It might be a trap.”

  “You think they want me?”

  Her friend narrowed her brows. “It’s possible.”

  “I was planning on calling the Council”—she wasn’t completely brainless—“but I’m still going. They are my people and I am sworn to protect them.”

  “You’re sworn to protect them religiously. Nothing in the vows mentions protection against an attack.”

  “I’m going and that’s final.”

  Annaliese’s jaw tensed, but she bit back her words and offered a nod. How could she consider not going? Not trying to help? She was the High Priestess, a repository of magic. And she knew a little something about Goleb no one else did.

  Aryana closed her eyes and focused on calling Thoren.

  What is it, Ari?

  Another village has been attacked.

  What! When? Where?

  Goleb. A female and her young just arrived. I’m going to see—

  You will do no such thing!

  Aryana cut him off. Past experience proved he’d come faster if she ended the conversation before he started ranting. She opened her eyes, looking at Annaliese. “Take care of them. I’ll be back.”

  Disappearing before her friend once again gave voice to going-is-a-bad-idea, she reappeared in Goleb. Another small farming village located miles away from the Temple, Goleb smelled of burned wood and freshly tilled soil. Magic thrummed beneath her feet, a music playing for only her ears. Unlike Tyne, the buildings had not been burned.

  At least not from the side she stood on. Her transport landed her behind a row of homes, between the village and the fields, not in the middle of the square. All the better to hide on the off chance Annaliese was correct and the attackers wanted her.

  Screams slammed through the open air, followed by the sounds of metal on metal. If any of those screams belonged to her people, so help her Goddess, she was going to charcoal every last one of the attackers.

  And she might get the chance. With a cry of “She came!” a group of black-garbed males waving swords ran straight toward her. Aryana sucked a breath through dry lips. She was the High Priestess. She could incinerate them all.

  She hoped.

  Aryana stood still as the intruders surrounded her, circling, entrapping. Maybe Annaliese was right, maybe she was the target.

  Aryana turned her lips in what she hoped looked like a you’re-about-to-die snarl as she drew power from deep inside the earth. Goleb sat in the middle of a magical hotspot, a well of power bubbling to the surface like an underground stream. A well few felt and even fewer knew how to use. Lucky for her, she belonged in that small group.

  “You want me? Come get me.”

  They moved nearer and she lobbed energy balls, bam, bam, bam, hitting the closest three in the chest, driving them to the ground. Here in Goleb with the magic coursing beneath her feet, powering her with the force of a gale wind, she was unstoppable.

  A pain ripped through her skull, clouding her vision, driving her to her knees. Virtually unstoppable unless hit on the head. Maybe she should have noticed those behind her instead of focusing only on those in front.

  Her vision wobbled, fading to gray with dancing black spots around the edges. She heard laughter, low and malevolent, and felt the air ripple as a weapon slashed toward her. Anger danced through her veins, mixing with the earth’s magic, changing her, invigorating her.

  She felt her bones lengthen, her skin ripple into scales, her head tilt back as her lips opened into a roar. The dragon filled her, exploding from its hiding place, scattering her attackers. If she hadn’t been so scared, she might have enjoyed their gasps of surprise and fear.

  What would she do if one of the villagers saw her change? Furthermore, how did she manage to change outside of the circle?

  A sharp pain pierced her front leg and she roared with agony. One of the intruders had clearly overcome his fright and was busy trying to poke his sword through her leg.

  Just because she had no idea how to use her wings, didn’t mean she had no idea how to use her new set of sharp, pointed teeth. At a snap of her jaws, the sword clattered to the ground and the male screamed as his arm joined his sword.

  The loss of his arm didn’t stop the others from attacking. No longer caring if any villagers saw her, Aryana said a quick prayer for survival and threw herself into the fight.

  ****

  Fafnir glared straight ahead into the darkness and saw nothing but the dark outlines of trees and grasses. Or was that grasses and trees? A glance to the right and left showed the other cloistered males who, like him, stood guarding the Temple, spread out around the perimeter of the walls. Although he doubted whoever attacked Tyne would dare to venture onto Temple grounds, he agreed with the guardian action.

  After all, Aryana stood inside those walls.

  He shook his head. One touch from her and a rush of emotions he didn’t want surfaced. As if she’d ever return his feelings. The days of caring and sharing rested in a past best left buried. If she discovered his crime, the best he could hope for would be banishment from Draconia. No I-care-about-you-too feelings directed at him. He didn’t deserve such niceties.

  Guilt swallowed him, soaking through until his bones ached with the onslaught. His mind slipped into the past, reviving memories best forgotten, spinning them like strands of yarn. He should have fought harder, tried to escape, insisted his lover obey his orders.

  They told him she’d died, their child along with her.

  He’d grieved. Released his sorrow over the years spent behind titanium bars. Until he’d been freed, he’d believed his captors when they said his child died.

  They lied.

  And the guilt had surrounded him ever since.

  A low-powered jolt twisted through him, as if an energy ball tore into his muscles, slinging him back into the present. What was that? Pushing his mantle of grief aside, he focused on the tingling stabs shooting across his legs, stabs that indicated an impending transport. Perhaps he would transport right out of his life and into someone else’s.

  No one could accuse him of not having an imagination.

  Since he remained in his same body, his same life, and transporting was the last thing on his mind, why did it seem—

  Before he could complete that thought, his body shattered into tiny, invisible pieces, pulling his essence across the land, transporting him a stone’s throw away from a fight.

  A small dragon, scales dark against the night, bit, clawed, and threw fire on five humans attempting to attack. Where was he? Why had he been brought here? More importantly, how?

  With a sweep of its tail, the dragon knocked the legs out from under one of its attackers, a roar of triumph bellowing from its mouth.

  Yes! The roar of glee slammed into Fafnir’s mind and with a shudder he realized who the dragon was.

  And why he transported against his will.

  He cursed.

  He still didn’t know where he was, but he knew he needed to get Aryana out of that fight and fast. Before a villager saw her in dragon form and did something dumb. Or, more likely, one of her attackers got a strike in. Casting a spell, he cloaked himself in invisibility.

  Aryana!

  She stopped moving and looked in his direction. A sword screeched against her scales and she screamed in obvious pain. He winced as steam began rising in his throat. They hurt her and they would die.

  Become invisible and transport to me.

  I’m not giving up.

  I know. I’m replacing you.

  Do you think I can’t fight? She swept her tail to the side, knocking down two of the attackers.

  As saying yes would get him nowhere, he stomped the word out of his thoughts. I think the High Prie
stess is injured and needs her wounds tended. Come to me and I will dispense with the attackers.

  With a final sweep of her tail, she vanished. He felt a stirring of air as she transported to his side. Breathing a sigh of relief, he transported into the circle, taking her place. He dropped his invisibility spell and roared. The attackers jumped back, but he didn’t give them time to escape.

  Taking a deep breath in, he put the steam in his throat to good use, letting it power a rush of flame and fire. Two charcoaled humans down, three to go.

  He clawed the nearest one, blood coating his talons. But when he looked for the last two, they had vanished. No, not vanished, ran off.

  Fafnir gave a hop, stretching his wings, readying to fly, when the two running-away humans dropped to the ground, courtesy of Aryana’s spell.

  Turning his head, he stared at her. No longer a dragon, Aryana stood in her torn gown, her features marred in the darkness.

  Are you all right?

  I’ve been better. You?

  Fine. Those two?

  Asleep. For awhile. We need captives to interrogate.

  Made sense, but he wanted to rip their intestines out and burn their bodies for the harm they caused Aryana.

  How did you know to come?

  Oh, right. As if he was going to play the share game and tell her the old Seer was correct all those years ago. She was his mate. He passed the mating test, which proved without a doubt she belonged to him.

  Not all Draconi knew who their mates were. Most Draconi had to seek them out. To help in their quest, a test had been devised, a test that took a potential mating pair and put one of them in jeopardy. If the other one transported against their will to the one in jeopardy, then they were mates. No automatic transfer meant it was not a true mating.

  A rather odd way to find a mate, in his opinion. It seemed to work with others, but he had always wondered if it would work with him.

  Now he knew.

  Not that it mattered. Aryana could never know she belonged to him.

  An ache took up residence in his heart and he shook it off.

  He shrugged and hoped she’d leave it at that. What about the villagers?

  By the Goddess, I got so caught up in the fight, I forgot about the villagers. She turned and ran toward the houses surrounding the middle of the village.