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Origin Exposed: Descended of Dragons, Book 2

Page 17

by Jen Crane


  He must’ve chosen the latter.

  When Stryde extended his hand, Ewan shook it stiffly, his jaws trembling under the weight of their pressure.

  “I’m Stryde,” my cousin said. “You must be the wolf. Thank you for your hospitality.”

  Ewan took a deep breath. He tried and failed to find words, and nodded instead. We all stood awkwardly for several long moments. It was a close contest of who was the most uncomfortable, but I thought it was probably me.

  “Stella, may I speak with you for a moment?” Ewan finally said.

  I followed him to the side of the house. “What the hell were you thinking?” he gritted the moment we rounded the log structure. My eyes shot toward the party; I hoped we were out of earshot. The way Thayerians could hear, though, probably not.

  “He just showed up,” I defended, my shoulders ascending to my ears. “He begged to come. Promised to be good. I…I felt sorry for him. He just wants to feel normal for a little while.”

  Ewan said nothing. He held his head in his hands, rubbed his eyes. “Well,” he said after a beat and looked up. “There’s nothing to be done about it now. Might as well go back.”

  He kissed me softly, reverently, and pulled back to catch my gaze. “Let’s go join the celebration.”

  We found Stryde at the outdoor bar on his second shot of whiskey. That’s not good, I thought. I pasted on a grin for Ewan and left him to make sure Stryde didn’t get out of control.

  “Better save some for everyone else,” I said in a playful tone.

  “Oh,” Stryde replied. “Don’t worry; I brought more.” He produced a half-empty bottle from the back pocket of his pants. His fine black hair fell over one eye as he looked down at me blearily.

  “Did you drink the other half of that?”

  Stryde nodded pleasantly.

  “Tonight? Before you came here?”

  “Helps calm my nerves,” he said before pressing the bottle to his lips. “Stops the tremors.”

  “I see. Maybe you’d better cool it for a little while? Keep your wits about ya?”

  “You know what I’d really like?” he asked.

  “What’s that?” Please say to go home. Please say to go home.

  “To dance.”

  I forced a laugh. “They’re good, right? That’s my friend Layla. Band’s called Shiny Things. Go for it. They cleared a spot for a dance floor and everything.”

  “No,” he said with a frown. “I want to dansh with you.” Did he just slur ‘dance?’

  “Oh, I’d better not, Stryde. But thank you.”

  “Dance with me,” he said and reached for my hands. I pulled them back just in time.

  “I’d better go check on Timbra.” I turned to find her, but he was in front of me before I could blink.

  “Just one dance. I came all this way.”

  He wouldn’t be deterred, and I decided to make the best of the situation. Maybe he’d be satisfied and move on. “Sure,” I said tightly and followed him to the dance floor.

  Shiny Things was in the middle of an up-tempo song. Thank goodness, I thought. Slow dancing would be awkward. But instead of dancing according to the music’s tempo he grabbed me, holding my hand and clasping my waist so tightly I squirmed uncomfortably.

  “Let me go, Stryde,” I said, still holding out hope he’d listen to reason. Instead, he held me tighter, forcing my arms, my body to move with his like a string puppet. He danced us around the patio in stiff, jerky movements and the other guests eyed us warily.

  I caught Layla’s gaze as we passed her and put every bit of pleading I could into my eyes.

  She tried to help. Her efforts were just misguided. She stopped the band mid-song and switched gears, slowing the music down. A ballad.

  Relax, I told myself and willed toward Stryde. Relax. He slowed, and his grip on my hands loosened enough that the blood could reach my fingertips. I forced myself to breathe, to clear my head and find a peaceable way out of the situation.

  The weight of Stryde’s stare caused me to look up. He was too close. There was only room for the rank scent of whiskey between us. I wrenched back, but my neck could only extend so far. Stryde followed my head, his eyes intent on mine before he closed them. My stomach lurched with the realization he intended to kiss me.

  “Stryde, no!” I jerked to free myself from him, but he returned his grip on my hands. “What are you doing?” I rasped. Keeping my voice down was a losing battle.

  “I’m trying to kiss you,” he said, his wide brow tight with the stirrings of indignation and rejection.

  “Why the hell would you do that?”

  He shook his head dumbly. “I got no response to the flowers I sent, nor the candy. I tried to take you to dinner but you left.” He gave an unattractive grunt. “But you seem to be a woman of action. I’m hoping you’ll respond to me physically.”

  His words, the rationale was so shocking, so bewildering, that my breaths came out in soft pants. Eventually I found the words I’d been searching for. “That was you? But…why? We just went through this whole incest thing with Brandubh. Why in the world would you ever think it was okay to pursue me?”

  “Brandubh may be an evil bastard, but he’s right about one thing: you’re the only one there is for me, Stella. I knew it that the night in the crater. We’re the last. Don’t you see?” He squeezed my hands so tightly my bones ground together. “We must be together because we’re the only ones.”

  I wriggled my fingers to regain some feeling in them, but I had bigger problems than my blood flow. “Let’s…let’s talk about this tomorrow,” I said. “Okay? You sleep this off and we’ll get Granny and Uncle Eiven’s input. We’ll work it out. You can find someone—find happiness again.”

  He’d heard nothing I said. And despite his heavy consumption of whiskey, his tremors had returned. He’d worked himself into a frenzy. “And when I learned you were an omni, I thought nothing could be more perfect. We’ll never be at risk again. We can make offspring that have a defense against Brandubh. Just think, Stella. Because of your heritage, our kind can finally be free.”

  I looked around wildly for help, but who could solve this particular problem? No one but me.

  “The only reason I got away from Brandubh that day was because he didn’t expect me to be an omni. Now that he knows, it’s no longer a defense. It was the surprise that gave me the upper hand. You see that, don’t you?”

  But he didn’t see. Whether it was the booze or his addled brain, it didn’t matter. He was beyond reason.

  “Let her go, please,” Ewan said from behind Stryde. Ewan’s voice was laced with angry authority.

  “You.” Stryde released me to face Ewan, quick as a train of thought. His eyes hardened to determined green orbs, and I knew his fragile facade had cracked. “You’ve turned her against me. You think I don’t know you’re courting her, too?” Stryde scoffed. “I thought she’d be too smart to accept you, but I was wrong.” A vicious snarl escaped his lips, and he shook himself, working hard to get back under control.

  “Listen, man,” Ewan said. “There’s no competition here. You’ve got the wrong idea. Stella’s not interested in you. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave now.”

  I tried to stop Ewan mid-sentence, even though he’d kept his cool. He’d been as polite as possible under the circumstances. But there was no stopping Stryde’s downward spiral. With each of Ewan’s words, Stryde’s vellum-thin psyche deteriorated further and further. His crazed eyes shot from side to side like emerald pinballs. His body vibrated with tremors and he sucked each breath like a dying man. He was going to break at any moment.

  When he began to slaver onto his dress shirt as his mouth elongated and formed unnatural angles I knew the worst was about to happen. “Oh, damn,” I breathed. “Damn, damn, damn.”

  The party goers began to comprehend that something was happening around them, and their worried conversations mingled to make a nervous soundtrack to the two men’s impending fight. />
  Facing a physical threat, Ewan began to change, too. His face, which I’d always thought was a window to his kind soul, took on a look of evil menace. In the time it took to swallow the nervous lump in my throat, Ewan had transformed into a medieval wolf monster as huge as it was frightening.

  * * *

  Ewan’s wolf form was gigantic and dangerous, but still no match for a dragon. He could never win a fight against Stryde. One strike, one bite, one fiery breath, and Ewan would be lost. That was unacceptable to me.

  Though there were only milliseconds to consider them, I was aware of the repercussions of the action I was about to take. Once the crowd of people saw me go dragon they’d know. They’d soon know about the the Drakontos, and they’d soon know about me.

  Conceal my true nature or protect Ewan Bristol?

  It was the easiest decision I ever made.

  Chapter 28

  Stryde Drakontos burst into his onyx dragon with a vicious roar heard for miles. The chattering crowd went silent as death, mouths agape at the unfathomable sight before them. The jerky movements of his body expanding and his gnarled black wings unfolding to their full length sent iron furniture skidding across the stamped concrete.

  The crowd had dispersed in the few seconds it took for Stryde to change, but a nosey few poked their heads around corners and from under patio tables, too enthralled at the sight of a dragon to run completely to safety.

  Stryde lifted his great head and shot a column of fire straight into the moonlight. It was for show, to intimidate, and it had the intended effect. Someone screamed in terror from just inside the cabin’s back doors.

  At Stryde’s display, Ewan made one of his own, loosening a blood curdling string of growls and snarls. The two faced off in a metaphysical pissing contest.

  I didn’t have a penis, but I had power. I zeroed in on the center of my magical core, fanning the scorching flame of my chakra until I felt that familiar source of power just waiting to be tapped. I thought release, and surged into my auburn dragon.

  My long neck stretched as I assimilated to the fearsome form, and then I used my leathery wing to force Ewan behind me. Though he put up a good fight I moved him aside like an annoyance.

  He would hate that, I knew. But he’d live.

  Stryde arched his wide head, his onyx scales gleaming from the light of the fire pit. He tried to reach around me to Ewan, but I blocked him.

  “Hiding behind a woman?” Stryde’s sneer was clear despite his words being unspoken. “Did all men lose their balls while I was imprisoned, or just you? Where I come from, men fight like men.”

  From the corner of my eye I saw Boone’s massive dog moving stealthily behind Stryde.

  Behind me Ewan roared his frustration, growled his fury. He wanted a chance at Stryde, but that wasn’t going to happen. I wouldn’t let Boone get hurt, either.

  A sharp pain high up on my tail caused me to whip my head around. Ewan released his grip on me with a nasty snarl. That was all the distraction Stryde needed. He angled for Ewan and opened his wide mouth. I knew what came next. He’d burn Ewan alive.

  Quick as a snake strike I dove for Stryde and held his wide neck between my deadly teeth. He couldn’t expel fire held like that. He hissed, pulled to free himself, but couldn’t break free of my grip. The blood my teeth had drawn as he struggled was hot on my tongue.

  “All right, Stryde,” I taunted. “Let’s leave these lightweights out of it. You want me? You’re gonna have to catch me.” I exploded into the air, and he took the bait. Ewan, the fight, and the party were forgotten as he vaulted for me.

  Ewan’s furious howl resonated through the skies toward us before he sent through my mind, “Dammit, Stella. No!” But his voice faded and became imperceptible as I launched toward my beloved stars and away from my beloved friends.

  Once in flight, reality kicked in. I was on my own against Stryde, who was bigger and a more experienced fighter and flyer. Damn. But speed was on my side, and employed that advantage. My plans had ended at getting Stryde away from Ewan and the group. Where to now? I thought.

  An idea struck. Bay and Eiven had experience getting through to Stryde. Maybe they could help me get him through this psychotic break. With my knobbed feet tucked tightly into my chest, I speared for the Drakontos’ hidden cabin.

  The odd pressure on my brain as Stryde tried to communicate with me was familiar. I’d blocked his maddened rambling moments after taking off. But as we approached the hideout I opened myself up to alert Bay and Eiven and caught fragments of his frenzied thoughts again. “Won’t see it. Be together. Need more time. Away from those dogs. That school. Live here. Force her. Know all about that. Give in eventually.”

  “Bay!” I mentally shouted. “Eiven! Help me. Stryde’s lost his shit. He’s chasing me. Help!” I flew low against the cabin, chuffed my big wings over the top to rattle it, to get their attention.

  “Stella?” Eiven sent up. “What’s wrong?”

  “Need help now! Stryde. Psychotic break. Taken up Brandubh’s idea to trap me, breed me.”

  “What?” Bay chimed in. “No. That’s ridiculous. Come down here, we’ll work this all out.”

  They weren’t moving nearly fast enough—didn’t understand the seriousness of the situation.

  “Get your asses up here!” I tried my best to relay the emergency, but yelling without sound, well, it’s hard. “He’s out of his freaking mind. He tried to kill my boyfriend.” Fire spewed from Stryde’s angry mouth at my words. I felt the heat of it on my flank, just above one of my back legs. “See! He’s gonna kill me, too!”

  “No. Mine. Deserve this. Need.” Stryde’s barely perceptible thoughts filtered down to Bay and Eiven, who had begun to grasp the situation.

  “I think she’s right, Eiven,” Bay said and her body convulsed with the tremors of the anticipated transformation.

  “Stryde,” Eiven bellowed to the tops of the trees, but Stryde heard no one. He was stuck inside his head, the setting of his fractured brain switched to achieve or annihilate.

  I dove and flipped, ascended and spun as best I could in my effort to escape him. But he was an adept flyer, and caught me as I tried to double back toward the cabin. Though my scales were designed to withstand the heat of another dragon’s flame, Stryde knew my weaknesses. He exploited them when he shot a scorching plume toward the softer scales behind my knees. My hind quarter exploded in excruciating pain and the force of my reaction shot me toppling over the evergreens below. Tough armor covered my body, but the hard trunks of the trees still knocked the breath from me.

  Out-thrust wings helped stop my descent, and I slid roughly into a thick copse of trees. I was confused and shook my head to try to push some of the sense that had been dislodged back into the front of my mind. Everything was foggy and moving so slowly—it felt like a dream. But it wasn’t a dream, and I had to think faster or be in real trouble.

  In an attempt to rise from the forest floor, it was apparent my right leg was badly wounded. I limped and hopped awkwardly for a while, crashing into the trees around me. Finally, my big body relaxed onto a large oak.

  Resting for a moment, I forced breaths in through my nose; out through my mouth. I aimed to center myself, to assess my next move, but was pulled from my planning by the sound of Stryde’s screech as he flew in search of me.

  Could I just hide here? I thought. It would be impossible in this form, but I had others….

  My eyes fell closed as I searched for my chakra. It was more difficult in the dragon form; less natural. I had an impulse to rub my chest just over my heart, but my gnarled claws prevented that. Instead I welcomed the soothing sounds of the forest around me. A crow cawed a warning overhead and somewhere a mouse scurried under a tuft of leaves. My eyes flew open at the nearby sound of something scrambling away. A fox. A tiny red fox with big, pert ears and a narrow snout. Quick, small, clever. My lips pulled back from my vicious teeth in a smile I’m sure would scar small children for life.

  M
y line of sight, the scents of the forest—everything changed so fast and made me dizzy. I’d gone from towering into the canopy of trees down to the underbrush and leaves below them in a matter of seconds. My narrow tongue thrust out on a pant while I recovered.

  My sly grin came naturally, for I’d mimicked the form of the little red fox.

  Break time was over, and I shot out in the direction of the Drakontos’ cabin. It was urgent that I explain to Bay and Eiven the extent of Stryde’s dementia. My little body extended almost horizontally between long, quick gallops.

  They were standing in the small clearing outside the house watching Stryde circle overhead. Looking for me. I approached the house but didn’t slow down. Instead I skidded right past them into the cover of the small cabin.

  An old bath robe I’d found in one of the bedrooms served as a cover once I’d changed back to myself. Bay and Eiven had both seen me, and soon followed me inside.

  I wasn’t sure how the whole telepathy thing worked or how far the channels extended. But in my human form, at least I could whisper. “Can he hear us?” I asked softly.

  “No, but what the hell’s going on?” Eiven boomed.

  Bay squeezed his thick arm with aged, knobby hands. “Shhh,” she said sharply before turning to me. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Stryde’s lost his damn mind, that’s what. I don’t have time to get into all of it, but he thinks I’ve spurned him. He’s been…courting me.”

  “Why the hell did you let him do that?” Bay yelped, her top lip rising toward her nose with each word.

  I threw my head back in exasperation. “I didn’t know,” I seethed. “He was sending me flowers, candy, coming to see me. I thought the gifts were from someone else. That he just wanted to get to know me. I had no idea he saw himself as my…suitor. Jesus.” I scrubbed at my eyes with the palms of my hands. “Now he’s furious with both me and the guy I’m actually with—”

 

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