Hidden Dragon

by Harmony Raines

  He shook his head. “I have no memory…”

  There is someone approaching, a bear, his dragon alerted him to the presence of another male. A male who would threaten his mate.

  In a flash, he pushed Fleur behind him, placing his hard-toned body between her and the new threat. But she slipped around him and pointed her finger at his face. “At ease, buddy. This is my brother, Jax.”

  Jax slid down into Doran’s lair, dressed from head to toe in leather armor. Tight leather armor. A quizzical expression covered Doran’s face. “Where are your belt and sword?”

  “Oh, boy!” Fleur dragged her hand through her hair.

  “Oh, boy indeed,” Jax said, smothering a laugh as he looked Doran up and down. “Did this one get lost in the fancy dress store?”

  “He has amnesia, and doesn’t remember anything other than his name,” Fleur explained.

  “Or where he left his clothes.” Jax brushed the dirt off his armor and approached his sister. “Did you find him like this?”

  “Nope.” Fleur looked at her brother sideways. Perhaps they were a couple of adventurers from another land. That would explain the odd customs and their clothing. Maybe women from far distant shores wore pants just like their men. “When I first found him, he was a dragon.”

  Jax laughed again, this one a short, sharp laugh that lacked humor. “You are mates with a dragon!”

  “What’s so funny about that?” Fleur asked.

  “Because when we were younger, Mom used to read you stories about knights and round tables and magic and dragons.” Jax glanced at his sister. “You don’t remember? Your favorite toy was a stuffed dragon.”

  “It was not,” Fleur insisted.

  “Yes, it was…”

  “Are you calling my mate a liar?” Doran stepped forward menacingly, although his legs didn’t feel like they belonged to him and he stumbled forward, nearly falling face down into his treasure.

  Fleur rushed to his aid and grabbed hold of his arm, slinging it around her shoulders and taking his weight. “Hospital.” She glared at Jax. “Will you help me?”

  “Of course.” Jax eyed Doran curiously. “But we need to get our stories straight first.”

  “Stories straight?” Fleur asked and then looked down at Doran’s clothing. “Maybe we could stop by your place first. You could lend him some clothes. Then we can just say he’s a friend from out of town who has lost his memory.”

  “Do you have any ID?” Jax asked.

  “What is ID?” Doran didn’t understand many of their foreign words and phrases.

  “Something with your name and address on it.” Jax approached Doran, who was still resting on his mate’s shoulders. He held his hands out in a nonthreatening way. “Can I check your pockets? What’s left of them at least.”

  “I am capable of checking my own pockets,” Doran replied tartly. He wasn’t a child; he was a man. Although, as he patted his clothing, looking for clues as to who he was, he had about the same coordination as a two-year-old child.

  Doran’s hands nudged against something hard and he paused to remove a sheathed knife from the half-rotted belt on his hip. He gripped the knife handle and pulled it from the sheath, before holding it up to the light trickling in through the hole above their heads.

  “Nice blade, where did you get it?” Jax’s voice held a hint of suspicion. The brother of his mate did not trust Doran. And maybe he was right not to. Perhaps he’d been put to sleep because he was a danger to those around him.

  Was he a danger to his mate?

  No, his dragon replied. We never hurt anyone. It is not in our nature.

  “I have no idea where the blade came from or why it’s in my possession. But then I do not know who I am or why I am here.” Doran straightened up as he flexed his leg muscles. “Here, take a look for yourself.”

  He held out the blade to Jax who paused before accepting it from Doran. “It looks handmade.”

  Jax hefted the knife in his hand, testing the weight before he held the blade to the light and ran his finger along the tarnished edge. He flipped it over and used his nail to scratch off the dirt and rust. “Here is the maker’s mark. We might be able to take it to a specialist who could identify the maker.”

  “Another piece of the puzzle,” Fleur commented. “When we get you to the hospital, they might be able to help you piece together the rest of it.”

  “I don’t know if the hospital is the best place for Doran.” Jax took a step sideways and pointed behind Doran at the pile of treasure. Doran’s treasure. A wave of suspicion swept over him. Had his mate and her brother come here to steal their treasure? “We need to keep this quiet.”

  “Doran’s health is more important than treasure,” Fleur insisted, waylaying Doran’s fears. Unless that was their plan. Fleur would take him to the hospital so Doran could not stop Jax stealing his treasure.

  “Which is why we should go to a dragon expert. We need to take him to Fiona and Harlan.” Jax walked around in a circle as he examined the hole in the ceiling above their heads. “Getting out might be tricky.”

  “We can hoist Doran up.” Fleur took the backpack off her back and put it down on the ground. “I have a rope.”

  “We’ll give it a try.” Jax stood beneath a thick root that had penetrated the ground and the floor of the building above them. “This will be the easiest way. I’ll go first, then I’ll pull you out, Fleur, before we both pull Doran out.”

  “I can climb,” Doran insisted, but his arms and legs were weak. “What has happened to me?” He lifted up his hands. “My muscles are weak when they used to be strong.”

  Jax walked back toward him and stood with his feet hip-width apart and his hands resting on his leather-clad hips. “I think you were put under the Ancient Slumber spell and left here for a couple of centuries or more.”

  “What?” The air whooshed out of Doran’s lungs, while the blood drained from his mate’s face.

  Jax continued, “Look at your clothes. And the leather sheath from the knife. They are worn and rotted. They’re old. Very old.”

  “How do you know about the spell?” Doran asked, his fists clenched as the words Ancient Slumber triggered a sudden memory. He put his fingers to his temple, trying to make sense of the rush of images that swept through his mind like a tsunami. It was all a jumbled mess of sights and overwhelming emotions.

  “Are you okay, Doran?” Fleur asked with concern.

  “I’m remembering. Small pieces that don’t fit together.” He rubbed the heels of his hands into his temples.

  “Do you think Fiona and Harlan can help him?” Fleur asked her brother, her voice cracked with pain as she watched Doran fall to his knees. She rushed forward to help him, her touch giving him strength.

  Why was he so weak when he needed to be strong to impress his mate? Had the spell left him permanently damaged, unable to function properly? If he got his memories back that might all change, he might be the man he once was. Strong, resilient.

  Chosen. His dragon spoke the word in a hushed whisper.

  Why chosen? Doran asked his dragon.

  I don’t remember. Like you, I only have snippets of memories, but I know our brother, Edric, put us under the spell. And I know it was our choice.

  Doran reeled at that new piece of information. Why would he choose to go to sleep for centuries? Unless there was something he was supposed to do. Something he’d forgotten.

  With a groan of frustration, he dropped his hands to his side. “Take me to someone who can help me.”

  “Yes, my lord. I’ll get right on it if we can all get out.” Jax sauntered back to the hole above their heads, pulled down on the exposed root and tugged on it. When he was confident it wasn’t about to pull the whole tree down on their heads, Jax lifted his feet off the ground and swung on it, testing how much weight it could hold. “I’m going up.”

  “Be careful, Mom will kill me if anything happens to you.” Fleur handed him the rope and then kissed his cheek. “Than
k you for coming with me.”

  “What are brothers for?” Jax asked. The whites of his knuckles showed as he pulled himself up, hand over hand. His muscles bunched and strained against his leather armor as he hauled himself upward, leaving Doran alone with his mate.

  “He is a good man. I did not mean to offend him,” Doran said to his concerned mate as she watched her brother climb out.

  “He is. And you didn’t offend him. Believe me, you would know if you had.” Fleur clasped her hands together in anguish as a shower of dirt and stone fell into the room where Doran had spent countless years asleep. “Sorry about your treasure.” She glanced over her shoulder at the gold and jewels, now covered with a thin film of dirt. “I hope nothing is damaged.”

  “There is no need to be sorry. If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be asleep.” He shook his head and shook loose a memory of an urgent discussion with Edric, his eldest brother.

  They were locked together in a heated argument. Doran directed his mind to the moment in time, trying to listen to the argument when he had no perspective of time or place.

  “We have to act now, or it may be too late,” Edric told Doran.

  “I am not the kind of man who hides from danger.” Doran jabbed his finger at his elder brother. “I can look after myself.”

  “It’s what Mother wants,” Edric told Doran. “She cannot bear the thought of losing you to a dragon slayer. In the same way she lost your father, Lorca.”

  “I am not afraid of any slayer,” Doran insisted as anger crossed his brother’s face.

  “Don’t you care how she feels?” Anger flashed across Edric’s eyes and his face turned red. “Are you so selfish?”

  “And what of you and your mate? I swore to protect you both.” Doran’s loyalty to his brother was savage, primal.

  “You can’t protect us if you are dead.” Edric’s face faded away, the rest of the memory gone.

  A pain like a dagger to the heart sliced through Doran. His brother, Edric, and his mother, whose name he still could not recall, all gone. He was alone in this world.

  We have our mate, his dragon told him. Fate did not betray us.

  Chapter Four – Fleur

  “Doran.” Fleur touched her mate’s shoulder, trying to pull him back to her. Fear gripped her as his eyes remained out of focus as if he were looking into the past. She longed to see what he was seeing, to know everything about him.

  “I was asleep for a long time.” His brow creased. “What year is it?”

  “Twenty…” Fleur was silenced by a shocked look from Doran.

  “The spell was cast over six hundred years ago.” Doran paced the floor, even though he looked weak.

  He’s in need of a good meal if he’s been asleep for over six hundred years, Fleur’s bear stated.

  “We should get you to the other dragons. They might have more information for you,” Jax called down from the outside of the dragon lair.

  “This is the same spell used on Emilia and Magnus, isn’t it?” Fleur asked as she climbed out of the hole and joined Jax in the lingering late afternoon sun.

  “Yes.” Jax lowered his voice and continued, “But they didn’t have the same memory loss, did they?”

  “No.” Fleur shook her head in disappointment.

  “But I’m sure they can help.” He shook his head and laughed. “Fiona is the fiercest woman I know. Maybe she can scare the memories out of him.”

  “I hope so.” Fleur nodded, grateful to Jax for keeping the situation light when it looked so bleak.

  “Hey, flower, it’ll be okay.” Jax fixed his eyes on hers and she believed him. If her brother had a secret power, it was to lift your spirits and give you hope.

  “Shall we pull this dragon shifter out?” She looked down into the hole in the ground as the setting sun glinted off the gold and jewels scattered around her mate. “Will your treasure be safe?”

  “I don’t know, I’ve been asleep for the last six hundred years. I have no idea what is up there. Or who might try to take my treasure,” Doran answered ironically.

  “So you have.” Fleur looked questioningly as her brother. “I think it’ll be safe for a day or two. Don’t you? No one has been up here for years. I don’t think the owner is going to visit, and I’ll be showing any interested purchasers around. We can just avoid this area.”

  “What about Mr. Preston? Since we haven’t found the ruins, he might come out here to look for himself.” Jax took the strain of the rope and with Fleur’s help, they pulled a weak and disgruntled dragon shifter up from his sleeping chamber.

  “Mr. Preston won’t come out here himself. He’s not well, Jax.” Fleur focused on pulling her mate out of the hole. She couldn’t allow herself to become distracted.

  “I’m sorry, Fleur,” Jax said gently.

  “It’s not your fault. I doubt it’s anyone’s fault. It’s just one of those things.” Fleur swallowed down the lump in her throat. Life had suddenly gotten so complicated and she longed for the simple days to return. But she couldn’t wish away her mate. She couldn’t deny the connection between them. He was a part of her life now and she could never go back.

  “Come on, old man.” Jax reached out a hand to Doran and pulled him up.

  “I might have slept for six hundred years, but I am not old,” Doran replied hotly.

  “Really? Have you seen yourself in a mirror?” Jax winked at Fleur when she shot him a piercing look.

  “Behave, Jax,” Fleur warned.

  “Yes, Jax, remember that even a weak dragon can singe the fur off any bear.” Doran’s eyes flashed red as he brushed the dirt from his clothes. What was left of his clothes, at least. Which wasn’t much and the fabric disintegrated in his hands.

  “Here.” Jax ripped off his leather jacket and handed it to Doran. “It will give you some protection.”

  “Thank you for lending me your armor. If it we get attacked, my dragon will protect us.” Doran nodded in thanks.

  “It’s not armor,” Jax replied, then his brow creased. “No, maybe it is in a way. I wear it to protect me if I fall off my motorbike. I saw a man burn the skin off the left side of his body when he fell off his bike and skidded down the road.”

  “What is a motorbike?” Doran asked, unsure of the meaning.

  “It’s a…” Jax put his hands out in front of him as if he were gripping a stick then he twisted his wrists. Fleur giggled as he tried to act out the word motorbike. He reminded her of the rainy days when they were young, and they would play charades with their other siblings, Ronni, Cal, and Davy. “You have no idea. If you have been asleep for over six hundred years, there are no words to explain a motorbike.”

  “A mechanical horse,” Fleur ventured. But her explanation was met with a frown and a shake of Doran’s handsome head.

  “Mechanical?” Doran’s expression cleared for a moment and he wound his wrist around and around. “Like a wind-up music box? My brother had one made for a child once.”

  “Not really.” Jax struck off toward the gateway where they had left their vehicles. “You’re in for some surprises, Doran. But if we want your secret to remain a secret, then you’ll have to master the art of keeping your features straight. If you go around looking at everything with wide-eyed wonder, we’re going to be in trouble.”

  “We don’t want too many people asking questions,” Fleur explained.

  “How many are too many?” Doran asked as a prickly shrub snagged his threadbare woolen pants. There wouldn’t be much left of his own clothing by the time they got back to the car. Which was going to take twenty minutes or more since they were on two feet, not four.

  It’s getting dark, maybe he could travel on two wings, her bear chimed in.

  You sound star struck, Fleur told her bear.

  He’s a feakin’ dragon, what am I supposed to be? You don’t see a winged beast like that every day.

  You’re rambling, Fleur told her bear.

  I’d rather be rolling. Over and over with our mat
e. Her bear sighed with longing.

  A dragon who can’t remember his own name. I doubt rolling around with his mate is the first thing on his mind, Fleur cautioned her overexcited bear.

  We might help heal him, her bear insisted.

  What will help is a shower and some clean clothes, plus some of Mom’s cooking. Fleur’s mom, Tansy, was the best cook, she always had some tasty meal or special treat in the oven. She loved making sure all her children were fed and happy. A wave of longing swept over Fleur. She longed for her mom’s warm, comforting arms around her to tell her this was going to be all right.

  This will be all right, her bear told her gently, as slowly the shock of finding her mate hit Fleur.

  The adrenaline that had kicked in when she thought she was going to die under a mountain of earth had left her bloodstream, draining her energy with it.

  “Fleur.” Jax was by her side in an instant as she reached out and placed her hand on the nearest tree trunk. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Just a bit shell-shocked.” She looked over her shoulder toward the man who was her mate. “When Mr. Preston asked me to come and take a closer look at Woodacre, I expected to find ruins, not a dragon shifter mate.”

  Jax chuckled and pulled her into his arms. “Since Mom’s not here.”

  Fleur wrapped her arms around her brother and buried her face in his shoulder. “Thanks, Jax. You know out of all the things brothers are good for, this is what you do best.” She pulled away from him. “There’s a woman out there who has no idea how lucky she is that you are here waiting for her.”

  “I hope to get to meet her someday. Someday soon.” Jax winked as he turned his attention to Doran. “Not much farther.”

  She straightened up and took a deep breath before taking the pack off her shoulder. Opening the flap, she took out a water bottle and a couple of energy bars. “Here, I should have offered you something to eat and drink sooner.” She offered the water to Doran.

  “Thank you. Six hundred years asleep does make a man thirsty.” He gave her a weak smile.

  “Oh, you have to twist the top.” She reached out for the bottle. Her fingers brushed against his and a thrill of excitement passed through her.