It was stronger, running deeper than she knew.
Above her, a thin dragon form lowered to the ground. A human shape appeared where it should have been, launching into a run. Cameron closed the space between them, but stuttered to a stop when he saw she had things under control.
“They’re dead,” he whispered. His body wrapped around hers. It enclosed her in warmth. Protection. Her dark power faded. Malcom’s body dropped to the ground, Gwen’s magic snapping back like a hand in a flame.
It was over. Malcom was dead.
She was alive.
Above them, the still fighting white dragons, the ones that hadn’t yet realized their leader was dead, figured out that they were outnumbered. Some turned in the air, banking to get away. Others were caught in the clawed grip of red dragons. The fight was over.
Around her, red dragons touched the ground and their dragon forms folded away to reveal human bodies. A large male stomped towards a sleek looking woman with wine red hair. He was fuming, his body looming over the female. Yet, the female only tilted her head back to meet his eyes.
“What did you think you were doing?” the male growled. “You could have been hurt! You could have put our child at risk!”
“I wasn’t going to sit by and let everyone else get hurt.” She bared her teeth at him as she spoke.
Gwen and Cameron exchanged glances. His trembling hand reached out and his fingers entwined with hers. A breath escaped him and he seemed to deflate.
The huge male’s attention was caught by Cameron’s shaking form. He assessed the smaller male before nodding. Gwen didn’t know what she had missed. All she could think was that she had lived. She was alive.
But, there was a form still laying on the ground. Gwen pulled her fingers from Cameron’s grasp, ignoring his barks of protest. Liana needed help. Drystan scooped his arms beneath the young woman and carefully picked her up. Beside them, a red dragon whose name she did not yet know shifted from foot to foot, worry clearly engraved on his face.
The features that he and Liana shared told Gwen that they might be relatives, siblings even. His hand hovered over Liana’s bloodied arm, wavered, and then snapped back. He was afraid to touch her, to hurt her any more than she already hurt.
“This is my fault,” Gwen confessed. “Let me try to help her. It is the least that I can do.”
“Yes. It is your fault,” the red haired male dragon growled through his clenched jaw. The damnation in his eyes shot her through the heart, a dart that she freely took.
Drystan’s glare on her was hard. It said that he blamed her for this. She accepted the guilt and the shame, feeling it settle heavily on her shoulders. She could live with it as long as Liana lived. Without requesting further permission, she touched the bleeding female dragon’s shoulder.
Her green magic flared to life. Her desperation and need made it glow brighter than she’d ever seen. It was softer than the thorny whip of magic she’d summoned earlier. This was a gentle wave of healing water. It cascaded over the female dragon and Gwen could hear the unconscious sigh of relief slip out from between her lips. Wounds slowly started to knit back together, leaving behind only smears of blood.
“She will live,” Drystan said. “Her continued healing will be a long, uphill battle. I worry more for her dragon than anything else. I don’t know how extensive her wounds were before she gave in to the smaller form.”
Gwen swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I’ll work with her as often as you’ll allow me. I need to help her. I need to help all of you.”
Drystan’s eyes flicked to where Malcom’s body lay on the ground. “I think, in the end, you have helped us.”
Held captive between two dragons that she’d never seen before was a man with a shock of white blonde hair. A white dragon. He snarled at the people around him, still furiously trying to pull his arms from the dragons’ grip. He would sooner tear his arms out of their sockets than get free.
The sleek female dragon approached the white dragon man. Her fist drew back and collided with his square cut jaw. “That’s for my human family, you piece of shit. I can’t believe they let you out after what you did. You deserve to rot in hell.”
“Calm down, Rhiannon,” Drystan barked.
Her narrowed eyes spun toward Drystan. She was clearly not used to taking orders from him. Her cheeks were red with the heat of her anger. Gwen recognized her from the recent upset in Bangor. She was the girl that GOE apparently kidnapped and managed to convince that she was human. It seemed, she’d found her family after all, Gwen thought as the huge man that had been angry with her moved to wrap his arms around her.
“What are we doing with this one?” The dragon male holding the white dragon had an American accent. His brown hair was cut short on the sides and swept back on the top. The cut and the set of his spine gave him an air of authority. The arm that gripped the white dragon was inked with black designs that bled into one another, the lines never ending.
“GOE, or what’s left of the Guardians, is going to want him,” Drystan said.
The American dragon nodded. When had that happened? When had American dragons arrived?
“Can we drop him a few times on the way there?” the other, unfamiliar dragon asked. His long, mahogany hair was held back in a tight bun and a smirk rested at the corner of his mouth, a regular thing if the dimple in his cheek was any indication.
“Thank you,” Rhiannon whispered to the two American dragons. “You didn’t have to lift a finger for us, but you did and I thank you for that.”
“We came on a mission to build a coalition,” the tattooed dragon confessed. His green eyes scanned the battleground, his eyes lingering on Liana’s form in Drystan’s arms. “We’ve been separate entities for too long. If it was going to work, we needed the Welsh dragon war to end.”
“This isn’t over,” the white dragon said between clenched teeth. “Dinas Emrys is our home! It is our right. We have been homeless creatures for centuries. It wasn’t fair that you kept our homeland so selfishly for yourselves.”
“Did you ever think to ask if you could live here?” Gwen’s voice was soft. “The territory is big enough for two families. At least, I think it would be.”
Her words sent a domino effect around the family. Dragons agreed or nodded as they threw in with Gwen’s statement. The rage was taken out of the white dragon’s body, leaving him to simply slump between the American dragons. Not once had it occurred to them to ask for a home.
She glanced toward Malcom’s body again. Their leader had always taken what he wanted. Perhaps, with him gone, the white dragons could learn to become more gentle. They could take a few pages from the red dragons’ book.
Chapter Fourteen
Many of the white dragons that fought for Malcom had died or fled. They were scattered to the wind with no real leader to organize a retaliation. Raphael had been captured and the American dragons had taken immense pleasure in flying him back to the remains of GOE.
The organization was slowly putting itself back together again. Rhiannon managed to warn Everett of the white dragons’ false nature and that had given him time to lock down at least one of the GOE buildings, sparing a handful of agents and officials from the chaos the white dragons had wrought. That action had earned Everett a promotion, one that allowed him to reenact the sham department Malcom had once headed. He would make it real this time.
Rhiannon was put at the head of the new Welsh Dragon Embassy, an ambassador to the Territories that resided by the city. It seemed that the chaos with the white dragons managed to change the opinions of the city’s citizens. They still very much feared dragons, but the Welsh red dragons had defeated the ones that really hurt them. It gave them a second chance.
It gave Gwen a second chance at life, too.
Cameron watched her bask in the square of morning light that the sun cast across their bed. He couldn’t believe that she was in his bed. His breath still caught in his throat when she turned to look at him and
a slow smile spread across her lips. She wore one of his white shirts over her breasts, leaving her long legs bare.
The idea of losing her still made his chest tight. It drove his beast near madness. He now understood what Elgar felt when his mate died. He knew why the old dragon had done what he did, but he didn’t forgive him. He only worried about what he would have done if she had died. He, most likely, would have gone down with her.
Instead, she was alive. She had even moved in with him. It seemed that in the heat of the moment, Gwen had acknowledged their connection. She was happy and, he thought, in love.
“I should get going,” she said with no real motivation to get up. “Liana is probably expecting me.”
“Her human form is completely healed,” Cameron reminded her. “She can wait another hour or so.”
Gwen’s lips twisted into a frown, one that he couldn’t stand to see on her face. He closed the space between two of them, his hands moving to gently touch the tops of her knees.
“She’s being healed by the Witch of Caernarfon. She’s fine,” Cameron said.
The truth was, they didn’t know how Liana’s dragon form was doing. She blatantly refused to shift forms. Any insistence that she do so, made her wrap her arms around herself and snarl. Drystan had tried to force the shift out of her, but her screams had enraged Rhys so much that they’d been forced to hold her brother down.
They didn’t know what to do with the female dragon, how to help her heal. From the looks that the American dragon had been giving her, Drystan suggested that she travel home with them to start work as an ambassador.
What they were going to do with Rhys while Liana was away was another question. The man had lived for protecting his baby sister, for helping her to cause destruction on the Territory. With her absent, the male dragon was going to be restless and on edge. The normally jovial dragon was already being a cranky ass to begin with.
The look on Gwen’s face said that she saw through his lie. Liana needed more help, but neither of them were sure that Gwen could offer the kind that she needed. The dragon refused to talk about what happened to her in the forest. At least she refused to blame Gwen for what happened.
His mate carried enough blame on her own shoulders for all that happened, no matter the outcome. It made her sit at Liana’s side every morning, casting her blanket of healing over the dragon. Yet, as he pushed her knees apart, she let him. She gave in to him as his head lowered between her legs. Her hand fisted in his hair.
She was alive and she was his. It was more than he’d ever asked for.
I hope you enjoyed Books 1 to 3 of the Fated Dragons series!! If you’d like to find out what happens next, you can get books 4 and 5 here:
Fated Dragons Complete Boxed Set: Books 1 - 5
Don’t stop now, I’ve included some more bonus books for you to enjoy below!!
Adored by the Alpha Bear
Alpha Bears Book 1
Emilia Hartley
Chapter One
This sucks, Jo thought to herself, biting back a bored yawn as her boss prattled ceaselessly into her ear from the rickety headset she wore.
“You absolutely must get this artist on board,” Brian insisted. “If we want to keep my little gallery running, pulling in the big names is paramount!”
“Don’t you mean our little gallery?” Jo muttered back into the mouthpiece, taking small pride in the way her boss spluttered on the other end of the line to cover his tracks.
“I, well, of course. Though you do work for me, I try to make everyone I employ feel that they are… apart of something bigger,” he rambled, his voice taking on a horribly synthetic British accent. “Which is why I need to make sure you understand how important this prospective client is!”
“Yeah, yeah, I kno…”
“I certainly hope so, Jo,” Brian interrupted. “I don’t want your lack of experience mucking things up!”
Bastard, I’m your best scouter! Jo growled inwardly, barely stopping herself from saying the scathing retort aloud. “You do your job, and I’ll do mine,” she opted to say into the mike.
She could almost hear his empty head rattling in an arrogant nod. “And I expect nothing less than success.”
“You know,” Jo said, shifting her weight as she leaned against the side of her car, “it’d be easier to do a perfect job with a more realistic traveling budget. Just a thought.”
She could hear Brian’s heavy sigh over the phone. “We’ve been over this,” he replied, voice clearly annoyed. “The budget was meticulously crafted with all of the current expenses carefully taken into account! It’s quite nuanced in ways I couldn’t possibly explain to you.” Jo knew this was Brian speak for, ‘I’m a cheapskate who doesn’t care how you get the work done, as long as it’s on as little of my dime as possible.’
“Trust that if we had even a penny more to spare, we wouldn’t hesitate to put it towards your trip,” he finished in a mock sincerity that made Jo’s lip curl.
“Right.” Her tone clipped.
“Yes, right, right.” She could hear a bit of unease seep into Brian’s voice, and she knew the conversation was pretty much over. “Well… at least this way you get to see the sights! Keep me posted.” With a beep, the line went dead without either saying goodbye.
Jo groaned loudly, grateful that the gas station lot was nearly empty. She could let out her frustrations in peace without disturbing the general public.
Sights? What sights?! The drive to San Francisco, California was two slow-moving days of alternating forestry and farmland. Two days! Apparently that wasn’t long enough to warrant spending the extra dollars for a plane ticket, so here she was, a day into the trip, kicking herself—both in frustration for not standing up to Brian and just to keep herself from dying of boredom.
But hey, as least she would get to ‘see the sights!’
“Pathetic,” Jo spat. Brian just didn’t want to admit that he’d been caught pinching pennies at the expense of her suffering.
Taking a deep breath, she tried her best to ignore the agitation she had for her boss. Already a day into her two-day drive, it was much too late to stew about it now. We’re going to have a really long talk when I get back to Chicago, though. Brushing a stray lock of wind-tousled brown hair from her eyes, she strolled into the gas station convenience store to pay for a full tank of gas.
Jo welcomed the cashier’s peppy voice, allowing it to wash away some of her chagrin. “Heading anywhere nice?” the high school aged girl asked?
Jo shrugged. “Not really. San Francisco, for work.”
“Oh wow! Quite the drive,” the girl replied, holding out Jo’s receipt.
You’re telling me, kid. “That it is.” Jo took the proffered paper from the girl. “But at least I’ll get to see the sights!” she said in mock enthusiasm.
The girl smiled in response, but Jo could see her confusion underneath. Instead of explaining, she gave a half-hearted wave and left the store. She hadn’t expected the cashier to get the joke, anyway.
“Drive safe!” Jo heard the girl call, as the door closed behind her.
***
“At least it’s quiet,” Jo said, eyeing the empty road as she drove. It had been two hours since she departed from the gas station, and she hadn’t seen a single car, bus, or even a hitchhiker. “That’s probably because they had the common sense to fly,” she muttered, grimly.
Wallowing in her sadness once more, Jo let out a deep sigh. She used to love this job. Being an Art Liaison had always been her passion. She was good at it; she had a natural eye for potential, and when Liberty Art had scouted her for her talents, it had been like a dream come true. When did it all go south?
“Brian,” she groaned, gripping the steering wheel tightly. She’d been happy at her job until titles shifted hands about a year back and she suddenly found herself under the direct order of Brian Koenig, the cheapskate Gallery Manager. From that moment onward, trips that used to warrant a booked flight were made solely in her
car. Hotels turned to motels or whatever hovel Brian could scope out for a few scarce dollars a night. Food had been stricken from the budget entirely! Jo bit back another groan as she recalled the first time she had to dip into her own pocket for a gas station sandwich.
She’d tried to argue for a bit of leniency from Brian time and time again, only to be met with the usual placating words of, “We’ll get right on it!” and, “We’re doing everything we can!” Still, nothing had changed, and here she was yet again, driving insane distances in her tired car to the next big thing in art, hoping that maybe this time her hard work will warrant the tiniest bit of luxury in future travels. Fat chance.
“I could just leave. Strike out on my own.” She nodded like it was a good idea, but knew she’d never make good on it. As Brian never ceased to remind her, her job was to ‘liaise,’ and as much as she wanted to oppose him, she was inclined to agree. Being a liaison was what she was good at. She didn’t know anything about the ins and outs of the Art Galley business as a whole, nor did she have the skill-set necessary to start the business and keep it running. She couldn’t risk walking away from a good job doing what she loved on the very off chance that she’d be okay on her own. Tolerating Brian was preferable to being homeless.
On that depressing note, Jo decided it was best to move her thoughts elsewhere. As if on cue, something shot out of the tree line in a blur of brown, heading straight for her car. With a shriek, she slammed the brakes hard, swerving roughly towards the shoulder of the road. The brown blur slid to a stop in front of her car, narrowly missing direct impact with the hood.
“What the hell.” Her fingers gripped painfully at ten and two. She peered warily over her dashboard into the road beyond, fearing that she might have hit… whatever the heck that thing was.
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