by Macy Blake
Cecil had driven him to the farmer’s market. He remembered the drive and the feralness that sometimes overtook him after he’d claimed his mates hovering at the edge of his consciousness. He wanted to choose something special for each of them to eat, not have it provided. He was the provider, especially after such a special moment for all of them.
Things got fuzzy after that. Honestly, things were still fuzzy. Draco blinked, trying to regain focus, but his dragon paced inside him, trapped and angry. Separated from his mates. Not good.
“Ahh, he’s finally awake.”
Draco opened his eyes reluctantly and wasn’t surprised at all to see Palinourous smiling at him. They were in a small wooded area with nothing but trees as far as the eye could see. Draco’s arms were bound to two of their thick trunks using a combination of elder wood and something… drippy. Draco didn’t really want to analyze it further. He could feel the magic oozing from his bindings. It told him what he needed to know. He was trapped, for the moment.
“What do you want?” Draco tried to keep his dragon from snarling the words but couldn’t quite succeed.
“I think you know what I want, Draco. I want my magic. And you’re going to make sure I get it.”
“I doubt that.”
“No?”
Palinourous crouched next to a small leather bag and opened it up. He lifted out a velvet wrapped object. He smiled and Draco had to bite back a burst of fear. The item turned out to be a particularly nasty looking barb.
“Manticore,” Palinourous explained, holding up the object with pride. “A shame I lost the specimen attached to it. It had potential.”
“Yeah, some poor kid you tortured and mutilated,” Draco snarled. “Such a shame.”
Palinourous moved closer, holding the barb next to Draco’s skin. “But don’t you see, Draco? A manticore’s barb is one of very few weapons that can damage a dragon. I’m sure you’re itching to shift. I encourage you to do so. I’d love to see this weapon in action. I’ve never had a chance to experiment on dragons.”
“Thank the goddess for small miracles.”
Palinourous grinned. “Thank the goddess, indeed. Do you think she’s sending secret messages to my brother even now, letting him know that I have you? Do you think she’s found some way to give them directions to where we are? I’m eager to discuss your freedom with my brother. I’ll happily give you back to him, in exchange for my magic.”
Draco snorted. “You’re such an idiot. Sawyer’s kicking your ass and he doesn’t have his power or his memory.”
A searing pain burst through his stomach. He hadn’t been jabbed with the manticore barb as he’d expected. He’d been stabbed with a gleaming black knife that now dripped with his blood.
“One of the few weapons, Draco. A weapon forged by a troll with dragon’s blood is another I also happen to possess. That’s going to burn for a while. Try not to scream.”
Draco wouldn’t give him the satisfaction even though ice cold flames grew from the wound and spread throughout his abdomen and up his chest. It hurt, the pain unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He needed to get out of this, now. His mates needed him. As much as he’d like to rip Palinourous’s head from his shoulders, Draco understood that he wasn’t a match for a god. No, it would take all of them to defeat Palinourous, and he planned on being right there when they did.
He clenched his fist and poured his energy into his arm. Andvari’s training came in handy once again, helping him focus his attention on one spot, one group of muscles, giving it all the strength he could muster.
The magical bindings began to break. His dragon helped, adding the strength of his shift to the mix. He’d never done that before, hadn’t even known it was possible, but desperate times and all that.
He’d have to be fast. Palinourous turned to speak to some minion or other who floated into the clearing. Draco had never seen creatures like this before, but that made sense. Palinourous called to the weak and disenfranchised among them, creatures who had been put down centuries if not millennia before by the Mother.
His chest burned, the fire from the troll’s knife making his throat clench with the need to scream. He poured that need into his desire to free himself. And it worked. The magical bond snapped from his wrist. Draco spun and shifted, using his claws to slam into the other branch with a force unlike any he’d gathered before.
Draco wrenched his other wrist free and dove for the woods. He needed more free space to fly. He had to get clear of the low hanging tangle of branches that blocked his path, and fast. Palinourous’s roar of outrage still echoed through the woods and pounding footsteps behind him let him know the chase was on.
At a disadvantage due to his larger, shifted size, Draco considered changing back into his human form. Manticore barb threat aside, his scales provided a much higher level of protection than his human skin. He decided not to risk it. Whatever the troll knife had done to him had inflicted enough damage.
His heart pounded. The flames from his wound licked higher up his chest. Damn trolls and their dark magic. Branches cracked and leaves rustled all around him. They were gaining on him, and he didn’t see a way out. Still he ran. Until he hit what felt like a brick wall. Pain tore through him once more. Draco crumpled to the ground as he realized that Palinourous had set a ward. A rookie mistake on Draco’s part. Air elementals were masters at them. He’d helped Henry enough that he should have thought ahead to the next move from his enemy, and a ward would have been his first thought.
“Nice try,” Palinourous said from behind him. Draco spun around, his entire body trembling. He held onto his shifted form, but barely. His dragon roared. He flung out a burst of flame. Palinourous easily deflected it and responded by flinging the manticore barb at him.
Everything slowed, but even then, Draco realized he wouldn’t be able to stop it. It flew too fast, obviously pushed with magic. It hit him in the side and easily pierced his scales.
Draco roared and was forced to shift back to his human form. Agony seared through the bleeding wounds he now had on both sides of his body. Palinourous strolled up to him with a beaming smile before kneeling next to him. He patted the barb, gently the first time, then harder, jamming it in deeper.
He’d never felt so much pain. It seared into him. And yet…
Palinourous leaned closer. “The poison should begin to affect your nervous system quickly. I’ve often wondered if it would be the same for dragons as it was on the others. It’s too bad I couldn’t take you to my lab, Draco. I have so many questions.”
Something moved in the sky behind Palinourous’s head, a dark speck that moved closer. Draco made an exaggerated sound of pain and made to pull the barb free. Palinourous, as expected, slapped his hand away. The pain wasn’t as intense as he’d thought it would be, and it certainly wasn’t as bad as the troll blade. Draco tried not to look at the dark spot as it grew closer and landed among the branches of a nearby tree.
One of Sawyer’s ravens.
All he had to do was hold on, and his mates would come for him. Draco groaned again, adding a shiver to the mix for good measure. Why wasn’t it affecting him? He’d heard about manticore poison for years, even more so after his cousin… mated one. Mated one who’d had his barb removed. It couldn’t be a coincidence.
Asher had told him about it once in a fit of anger. His mate, Quillon, had a difficult time trusting after he’d been taken. It frustrated Asher that he didn’t know who to go after. Now Draco knew, and he knew one other thing, too. The manticore poison wouldn’t be as bad as Palinourous thought it would be, because manticore poison wasn’t used against family. It was part of their magic, something Asher had also shared with him after Draco had tried to lighten the mood by teasing that at least Asher didn’t have to worry about being accidentally poisoned by his mate. It had earned him a really solid punch to the arm.
Draco groaned again and sped up his breathing to make it sound more ragged. Quillon’s barb wouldn’t hurt him. Through his
mating with Draco’s cousin, they were family now. And apparently, manticore magic protected its family. Dragon magic worked much the same. Draco’s flames couldn’t hurt his family or their mates. He couldn’t believe he’d never thought of it before.
“Tell me, Draco. What does it feel like?”
“Fuck you.”
Palinourous kept smiling. Then he slapped Draco across the face. It hurt, but the distraction was what Draco really wanted. He only needed time.
“That’s really more of my brother’s thing.”
“Can’t get it up, huh?” Draco sneered. “Doesn’t surprise me.”
Palinourous sneered and slapped the barb in deeper.
“I hope it hurts. I’m wondering if my brother will even get here in time to save you. It’ll be a shame if he doesn’t. It’s no bother, though. I can take one of those other sweet mates of yours to replace you. How do you think young Pip will react to the manticore’s barb? I bet he’ll scream beautifully.”
Draco roared and lunged forward. He managed to get a solid swipe of claw across Palinourous’s face.
“You’ll regret that,” Palinourous sneered.
“I doubt it,” Draco said. He collapsed back against the tree and resumed his act. The raven had flown off, no doubt to pass along his whereabouts. Soon. Not much longer. He just had to hold on.
The wounds in his side both pulsed. The barb may not be poisoning him, but it had still cut deep. The troll blade, on the other hand, had seriously wounded him. He could feel the icy flames of its magic inching closer to his heart.
“He certainly is taking forever to get here,” Palinourous complained. “Maybe I chose the wrong mate to take after all. Hmm. Perhaps I should have taken sweet Henry. I’d love another taste of his magic. So powerful, isn’t he?”
Draco knew exactly what Palinourous wanted. He wanted Draco pissed off, his heart beating faster as the anger coursed through him, taking the magic and poison with it. He shouldn’t fall for it, but no one threatened his mates. He roared, this time his human voice all he had, and lunged for Palinourous. He didn’t care if he couldn’t do damage to the fucker. He’d die trying before he let anyone lay a hand on any of his mates.
Unfortunately, Palinourous had definitely gained the upper hand. He was ready for Draco’s strike and countered with one of his own. Draco’s head spun and black dots appeared in front of his eyes.
“Hmm, you’re managing much better than any of the others did after the manticore barb struck.”
“You probably didn’t piss them off as much.”
“Oh no, I made sure they had plenty to lose. It’s more fun that way. Just like soon you’ll promise me whatever I want to make the pain stop. You’ll convince Sawyer to give me my magic to save yourself. Oh, not so you can actually save yourself, but you’ll be perfectly willing to martyr yourself on your mates’ behalf, right?”
He would. For any of them. He’d do whatever it took to keep his mates alive and whole. The problem was that he was running out of time to help them. The wound from the barb bled sluggishly, but the icy magic from the troll’s knife had hit his chest. It was becoming harder to breathe with each passing second.
“Ahh, it’s working now, I see. Not much longer now.”
“Dickface.”
“Charming. This is the mate of a god? My brother doesn’t deserve the title, not that he ever did. Although it was clever of him to hide his magic in his mates. It took me a while to figure out what he’d done. He doesn’t see what we can do, though. What we can be. That’s why I’m going to take it back.”
“Two for you, none for him. Got it. Brilliant plan.”
“Thank you,” Palinourous said, ignoring Draco’s blatant sarcasm. “With both of our powers under my control, I’ll be able to take the Mother’s place and finally reestablish the rule of gods. No one here even knows we exist. They should worship us.”
And that was why he’d lose. Palinourous could care less about the realms under his charge. He wanted power, to be worshipped and adored. It couldn’t happen. The Mother had their regard because she looked after them all. The sisters had the loyalty of their charges because they defended them.
No one would stand with him. His thirst for power would destroy him. And Sawyer… well, his mate needed to get over his fear of power and take back what was his to begin with. Something definitely had Sawyer spooked. Whatever had happened at that last fight had scared him. Draco didn’t know what it was, but he intended to find out. They needed to stop this.
“About time.”
Draco managed to pull himself out of his thoughts long enough to focus his attention again. It was hard to think. His heart struggled to beat and breathing had become an issue. He struggled to warn them away, to tell them to run, but he couldn’t find the strength. He had to wait and gather his strength because if he had a chance to strike another blow to Palinourous, he planned on taking it. All he had to do was stay conscious and wait.
His attention blurred once more and spots formed before his eyes. No, not spots. Ravens. They flew through the trees, battering themselves against the shield Palinourous had thrown up around himself.
And then one more familiar sight. Golden wings which folded back and his gorgeous griffin mate diving toward him. Sawyer clung onto Eduard’s back with Andvari behind him. The ground rumbled and metal flew up around him, shielding Draco from whatever else might come his way.
The last thing he saw before his eyes closed was his mate, his beloved Sawyer, with fire in his eyes. Palinourous had finally pushed him over the edge.
“He’s going to kick your ass,” Draco slurred before his eyes closed and he saw nothing else.
Sawyer
Word spread more quickly than Sawyer could have imagined. By the time he returned to the house, dozens of people waited for him. Mostly familiar faces: hellhounds, fae, griffins, dragons and vampires. But others he’d only met a few times, or not at all.
They knew his mate had been taken. They knew the time had come as well for him to end this fight. He wouldn’t stand for it. He couldn’t. Not anymore.
“What do we know?”
“Not much. Cecil took him to a farmer’s market to get breakfast. They didn’t come back,” Andvari explained.
“What are we doing to find him?”
“Dragons and griffins are flying now. They’re seeing if they can track where they went. It’s a long shot, but it could work. We’ve got wolves and a few others on the ground. They followed Cecil’s blood trail back to the attack site and are trying to pick up Draco’s scent from there. So far, nothing. Dakota has his brother trying to find some sort of security footage so we can try to track them.”
Sawyer nodded and threw back his head. He raised his hands to the sky and pulled energy from the ground, through his arms, and into the air. The ground rumbled beneath him and within a few seconds, his ravens answered his call.
“Find him,” Sawyer commanded.
They flew, dark splashes against the bright blue sky.
Time slowed to a crawl. Information poured in, but none of it telling Sawyer what he most needed to know: where was Draco?
It seemed like hours before his ravens finally returned to him.
“Eduard!”
His mate ran to his side. “Fly with me and follow my ravens.”
“Wait for me,” Andvari yelled.
He’d already made Sawyer put his dragon armor on, which was smart, because no way was Sawyer waiting now. The others followed their lead, as Eduard shifted into his griffin form. Around them dozens more shifts happened, dragons and griffins alike taking to their winged forms.
Then they were in the air, his mates around him, having caught rides on the backs of their friends and family members. He couldn’t think about any of that though. He only thought of his mate in his brother’s hands and of Cecil, gutted and left for dead, all for this damned power that meant nothing to Sawyer.
And then as they drew closer, his ravens whispered to him about fo
rces waiting in the woods, trying to trap them once more.
“Someone call the hellhounds,” Sawyer yelled. “Get these assholes out of here.”
The trees were too thick to really see where they hid but he trusted his ravens as they dove between the trees.
“Lean forward,” Andvari shouted in his ear.
Sawyer obeyed, clinging to Eduard’s back as Eduard tucked in his wings and dove between the branches, only stopping inches from crashing into the ground. Andvari leapt off of Eduard’s back with an impressive flip and sliced through a creature hovering near Draco. Sawyer had already protected him as best he could by forming a metal shield around him, and now he turned his attention to Palinourous.
His brother looked smug, like he’d already won, but Sawyer wasn’t going to fall for it. He hadn’t won anything. Sawyer, on the other hand, had too much to lose to risk any more madness. His mates gathered around him once again, watching his back as always.
Sawyer began manipulating energy the way he’d done before, but this time… this time he meant it. He poured energy Draco’s way, focused on his blood the way the Dactyl had advised. He moved the energy his mates had held for him for so long and pulled it back into himself.
“You can’t have it, you dickface.”
“You share such delightful language with your mate. It’s really too bad he won’t live long enough to tell you what I did to him.”
Sawyer heard an anguished roar from above him and wished he could let Draco’s mother know he was on it, that Draco was getting help from him even though she couldn’t see. His mates moved closer, each of them feeling the pull as he took back the magic he’d entrusted to them so long ago. It was never meant to be theirs. He had to own it once more.
“Give me back my magic,” Palinourous demanded. “And I’ll tell you how to cure him.”
Sawyer kept his focus, simply smiling as the others fought around him, his mates safely protected from harm with shields from both Loch and Henry.