by J. E. Taylor
Her smile slowly disappeared as her eyes glazed over like someone under a spell. I should know. I had dabbled from time to time in control spells. And she certainly represented the slackening faces of my victims. My heart dropped to the floor.
“Rory?” I asked.
She showed no signs of hearing me. She stood like a marionette and took a stunted step forward. There was nowhere to go, but that did not stop my pulse from racing, creating hot pain in my wrist as the cut reopened from the newly created force of blood.
“Aurora!” I yelled, struggling against the restraints.
No response. She took another step toward the door and like the magic that had gripped her, the door swung open on its own accord. It had to be that damn curse of my mother’s.
“Rory! No!” I bellowed and watched helplessly as she walked out the door.
I yanked the chains holding me in place and let out a cry that I was certain would alert the guards. But no one came. It dawned on me that the wall that kept Rory from me also muted my calls for help.
Still, I ranted until my voice failed and I slumped against the wall. “God damn it, Mother. Why?” I knew her reasoning. She had explained the glory of her revenge daily, poisoning my mind against humans since the day my father died.
“Fuck,” I muttered, and considered shifting, I didn’t have much to live for if Rory died. But if I took that route, there would be zero chance of saving Rory from my mother’s grim curse. I banged my head against the wall, inhaling the last of Rory’s lingering scent.
The air changed, like the days of the black death when the wind shifted to bring the stench of rot to the other side of the wall. I had gagged on it then and I gagged on it now, coughing and spitting so it didn’t take me along for the death ride.
But this was worse. It wasn’t just a random disease taking life. This was far more evil. It meant Rory was now in the grasp of my mother’s curse.
Chapter 10
“What have you done?” the king’s voice bellowed pulling me from my own near-death stupor.
I rolled my head toward him. “If you hadn’t chained me to the wall, I could have stopped her.” Even my voice sounded defeated.
He marched across the floor and rattled keys on a round holder, looking for a specific one to unlock the clasps at my wrists. He didn’t release the collar. Instead, he unclipped the end of the chain from the wall and started to drag me from the room. My muscles seized, and I dropped to my knees. But the king didn’t show an ounce of sympathy. He just kept dragging me across the floor until I found my footing and stumbled after him like an obedient dog.
When he pulled me into the ballroom, I stopped short at the sight of so many bodies. They looked as if they dropped in place and they smelled like death. The entire palace seemed to be in the throes of the curse. The king yanked me forward and pointed at his wife.
“Fix this!” he demanded.
I blinked at him and my eyebrows rose. I had as much power over this as he did.
I scanned the bodies, looking for Rory. I needed to find her. I needed to know whether she was alive or whether my mother had indeed killed her. “Where is Rory?” I turned back to the king.
He pulled out his sword and pointed it at me. “Fix this,” he roared.
His eyes were wild enough for me to understand there was no reasoning with him. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. All I could do was shake my head. “How?” I finally asked.
His entire face turned red. And he lifted his sword with the intention of using it. I tried to yank away, but he held the chain fast.
A dragon crashed through the palace doors, sending glass and cinderblocks flying over the unconscious, nearly dead patrons. Her timing was impeccable: the king had his sword at the ready and paused at the sight of my mother in all her fiery glory, flying across the expanse.
But what caused my eyes to widen was the limp body in her talon. I would know that shade of blonde anywhere. The dragon cackled as she tossed the body our way. I lunged to catch her, but the chain holding me in place stopped my progression. Rory’s body crashed down on the platform in front of us with enough force to break bones. I turned and yanked the chain right out of the king’s hands and fell to my knees by Rory’s side.
My mother’s talons had done just as much damage as the crashing fall. My hands hovered over her because I was too afraid to touch her and do more harm. At least she was mercifully oblivious of her fragile state, but that didn’t stop the sting of my own tears. I did not have enough blood to fix this. At least not while I was in human form. And even in dragon form, I did not know if it would do any good. But I had to try, consequences be damned. Maybe my blood could reverse the damage my mother’s curse had done. I would have one shot because as soon as the belladonna tainted my blood, it was no longer a viable option.
“Oh, Rory,” I whispered and leaned over, pressing my lips to hers one last time. My tears dripped on her face, baptizing her with what little emotion I had left. Then I glared up at my mother. “I loved her, and your damn curse killed her!” I growled and climbed to my feet, blocking my mother from Rory’s body.
My mother stared beyond me, and her face morphed into fury.
A moan yanked my attention behind me. Rory’s eyes fluttered open. I could not believe what I was seeing, nor did I understand it. If my mother cursed her to die, how the hell was she breathing? She gasped and wheezed, and her contorted and pain-filled face told me with her current condition, she wouldn’t be breathing for long.
Others stirred as well, including the queen.
The king glanced around and then back at me. “You? You’re true love’s kiss?” he growled in disgust.
I didn’t have time to answer. My mother’s roar demanded all our attention.
“Nooo!” My mother reared back. Her chest glowed with the building blaze.
It made my choice easy. She was going to blast us with her fire. None of us would survive that. I closed my eyes and forced the shift. At the same time, I raked my talons over the inside of my arm, spilling more blood than I intended, right onto Rory. She screamed in response.
I expected excruciating pain. I expected daggers to bore into my flesh. But it never came. I blinked my eyes open and glanced down. The metal collar lay at my feet. The clasp on the back of the collar had been sheared clean. I never heard the metal hit the wood. Not with Rory’s cries of agony filling my ears.
I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see the raven-haired fae set up another arrow. She gave me a nod and aimed in the direction of my mother. I spread my wings, blocking the royal family and the fae alike from my mother’s wrath.
My arm still dripped blood and spreading my wings wide made me grind my teeth together. I was not healing. Even my mother noticed, and her gaze softened for a moment. But then she looked beyond me again and that insane anger that had darkened her soul returned.
I stood fast. I would protect Rory from my mother’s wrath, even if it meant my own end.
“Move, boy,” she snarled as smoke curled from her nose.
“No.” There was no use in trying to explain to her that her killing Rory was worse than what the king did. The king’s actions were born of love and desperation. Hers were born of bitterness and hatred.
“He needs to know what true loss is!” She screeched so loud that people just coming out of their stupors covered their ears.
“Someday he will. But today is not that day. He did not kill Father out of anger or hatred. He made a shitty choice out of desperation. But his reasoning was more noble than yours. You want to kill for spite. He was just trying to save the woman he loved. I don’t condone it, but I understand it.”
“He has poisoned your mind.”
“You are the one who poisoned my mind. My entire childhood was filled with lies,” I bellowed at her. She had always told me humans weren’t to be trusted. They should be killed on sight. Luckily, very few slipped through the walls built around our land. But I did have blood on my hands
, too.
“Move or you will perish with them!”
I clenched my jaw. “So be it.” I refused to budge. “But know this. When you finally calm down and look around at the needless destruction you caused, it will not relieve you of your hatred. It will not bring Father back. And you will have destroyed the last piece of him that you have left.” I swallowed hard and steeled myself for her fire.
Rory fell silent behind me, but I couldn’t look to see whether the sudden hush was from the healing or whether my blood was not enough and she had perished. I could feel the weight of that on my already taxed heart.
“Please don’t hurt him.” Her small voice welled up from behind me as she slithered between my wing and my torso. Tears of relief blinded me. My blood had done enough to help her walk, but she still looked as though she had kissed death. She stood in front of me with her arms spread wide as if she could withstand the dragon flames if my mother let loose.
“Rory, get back,” I said softly.
She looked up over her shoulder at me with tired eyes and shook her head.
I wrapped my wing around her carefully, trying not to wince from the blood still flowing from my torn flesh. The movement created a spiral of agony through my entire limb and I winced, losing connection with my dragon form. The shift back to human form was immediate, and I sagged under the weight of it, dragging Rory to her knees along with me. The slam into the floor ripped a groan from my chest. I pulled Rory closer so I wouldn’t fully collapse on the ground.
My mother stared at us, blinking with her dragon maw hanging open. I don’t think she understood the direness of my situation until that moment and it shocked her motherly instincts back into her. At least for the moment. With her, I never really knew whether it would hold or whether she would turn back into that bitter widow again.
“Zachary?” she asked with a healthy dose of concern. She took a tentative step toward us, careful not to step on any of the humans scrambling out of her way.
I put my hand out to stop her and blood still dripped from my wrist. “She is my heart. Please don’t...”
“You’re... you’re hurt,” she gasped.
I bit my tongue on my initial reaction and just nodded. I didn’t think she would appreciate sarcasm right now.
“What did they do to you?” Her voice hardened.
“Nothing. It was my choice. Rory jumped in front of a sword meant for me. I couldn’t let her die.” I glared up at my mother. “But because of your damn curse, we were locked up in a cell where I couldn’t get the food or rest I needed to heal.” I shook the creeping cobwebs from my head. “This is all because of your damn hatred.” The world spun around me, but I grimly held fast.
She crept closer until she was within swatting distance. All around us, swords had been unsheathed and were directed at her. Archers had arrows ready to sail, but the king had his hand up, holding them all from attacking. I didn’t think he would attack. Not while Rory was still in my grasp. But my mother had been willing to kill her own son just moments before, so maybe King Henrick would be willing to sacrifice his only daughter, too.
My mother raked her sharp teeth over the palm of her talon and hurled a giant blood ball at us.
“Hold!” the king bellowed.
Her aim was impeccable. Her blood hit us with enough force to knock us on our back. It covered us from head to toe, seeping into my mouth and my wounds while stealing my breath from my chest. Rory whined against me. I clenched my fists and clamped my eyes closed as my mother’s blood healed me from the outside in, seizing every muscle.
“Damn it, I said hold!” the king yelled above my own panting breaths. The ground quaked with footsteps, but I was unable to open my eyes.
The wounds in my arm and my wrist stitched up in a symphony of raw agony.
When the pain faded, my heartbeat returned to my normal healthy rate and my muscles relaxed enough for me to draw a big breath. Now I knew exactly how Rory felt when I first doused her acid-burned feet with my blood. I glanced at Rory and was rewarded with a light coat of sweat on her forehead and rosy, healthy cheeks. Even her eyes looked bright, and her lips formed a small smile that shot straight to my soul.
I glanced back toward my mother, expecting to see her concerned look as we finished the painful healing process. Instead, her dragon form lay prone across the ballroom floor with at least a dozen arrows sticking out of her chest. Blood oozed from her mouth and her eyes had already taken on the glossiness of the dead.
I sat up and a wave of dizziness almost dragged me back down. Rory sat up next to me and gasped.
“Oh, Zachary.” She placed her hand on my arm.
The warmth of it did nothing to quell the building anguish. Blame started to form in my mind, but I squashed it. Rory certainly wasn’t to blame for my mother’s actions.
My gaze landed on the king as he rushed toward the fallen dragon. Fury encompassed me and I clenched my fists. If he hadn’t killed my father...
I glanced at Rory.
If he hadn’t killed my father, this beautiful woman who stole my heart would not be.
Besides, her father had been shouting “Hold” while we were in the throes of healing. I could not target this unmanageable fury at him. I hung my head and captured the emotions swirling inside me, locking them away so they didn’t get loose and create the kind of devastation I was trying to dissuade my mother from doing. I did not want to end up with a dozen arrows in my heart. Nor did I want to hurt the innocent, which was everyone in this room—save two. King Henrick, who moved toward my mother’s dead form, and the queen of dragons, who lay dead on the ballroom floor, were the only tainted souls here.
Rory’s hand gently rubbed my back, and her head nestled against my shoulder. I pulled her tighter against me in a quick hug, and then released her and climbed to my feet.
I crossed the room on legs that felt as if they were encased in rocks. The crowd parted, wary of me but still they bowed in a sign of respect. Whispers of “Dragon King” reached my ears and I nearly scoffed, but they were right. Now that my mother lay slain on the floor, that left me in charge of the Dragon Realm.
King Henrick stepped aside, giving a solemn nod. I stopped by his side and traded a glance with him.
“I’m sorry about your mother.” He even managed to sound sincere.
“I’m sorry, too.” I glanced over my shoulder at Rory. “My mother never should have taken out her anger on a child.” I met his gaze and then focused on my mother. Her scales had started the dulling process, bright colors bleeding into monochrome. I laid my hand on her cheek and leaned in close.
“I wish I could remember you before my father died.” My voice cracked and I cleared my throat, reining in the crumbling walls around my emotions. “I know you wanted me to toe the line. To keep your vendetta alive. But I can’t. I’m going to unite our kingdoms and hopefully bring peace to the region.”
A noise near me pulled my attention away from my mother. A few men with buckets in one hand and swords in the other approached. I stared at them and furrowed my brow.
“Not now,” King Henrick whispered.
I turned fully to face the king. Rory approached as well, with the same quizzical look I was sure I sported. The crowd closed in around us.
King Henrick splayed his fingers and motioned his hands in a calm down motion. I glanced at the buckets again and it all snapped into place. “Are you planning on harvesting her blood?”
King Henrick opened his mouth to speak and then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he just shrugged. “Dragon blood does heal the sick.”
“Absolutely not.” Rory beat me to the punch and took a position next to me. “There will be no harvesting of dragon blood. Period.” She looked right at her father. “Ever. Do you understand?”
“But she’s already dead.” One of the men with the buckets waved his sword towards the dragon.
“This is the queen of the Dragon Realm. Show a little respect,” I snarled.
“Fi
ne.” King Henrick waved the poachers away. “What do you propose we do with her?” he asked after the men disappeared into the crowd.
“I will bring her home to our people, and we will hold a proper funeral.” I glanced down at my bloody clothing. “But if I go like this, it will start a war.”
Chapter 11
I stepped closer to Zachary. He looked so lost and yet so in charge, and the combination of vulnerability and strength pulled at my heartstrings.
I glanced down at my clothing and winced. I looked just as bloodied as Zachary. “We both need to clean up and we need a change of clothes.” I met my father’s gaze and he nodded, snapping his fingers in the air.
Like magic, a man and girl skittered to his side.
“Take him to the guest quarters and find him something suitable to wear.” King Henrick addressed the man and then waved at the girl. “This is Anna, your lady-in-waiting, and she will take you to your quarters.”
Anna bowed. “My lady.” She waved toward the hallway beyond the throne.
“One moment.” I put up my finger while Marabel, Felicity, and Autumn came to me, doling out hugs. When Autumn wrapped her arms around me, I whispered in her ear, “Please make sure the dragon queen is not touched while we clean up. Okay?”
“No one shall touch a scale. You have my word,” she said.
I peeled out of her arms and stepped to follow Anna and the man my father had charged with making sure Zachary was taken care of. The two of them walked side by side, chatting as if they knew each other. Zachary kept in step with me.
We passed by the closet we had been in earlier and the memory ignited a heat inside me that rose to my cheeks. I glanced sideways at Zachary and his lips formed a sad smile when our eyes met.
At the end of the hallway, his man turned left, and Anna turned right. All the heat in my face faded and a chill gripped me as I took a few steps in Anna’s direction. I did not want to be away from Zachary. My heart jump-started in my chest and I stopped to turn back toward him.