Son of the Dragon

by T. S. Joyce

  “What, like writing it across the sky? Hot air balloons and signs?”

  “No, not something expensive. I don’t care about that stuff. Just ask me sweet.”

  There was a mental sigh and then, “Well, it’s good that money isn’t your love language because this dragon is broke as hell. The government froze my accounts when I burned Covington, and now they’ve drained them all for damages to the town. I was a rich boy, and now I’m a—"

  “Regular guy. Lucky you.”

  “Regular guy. Who turns into a dragon. Who watches guards run themselves ragged to plan my Change for two days before they shoot me full of drugs that force a Change and make my dragon sick the entire time. There is nothing regular about my life.” There was a pause. “I used to be fine with that, and then I met you.”

  Riyah frowned and changed the pen’s rhythm again, drawing a bubble-letter I above the broken heart, retracing it over and over. “What do you mean you aren’t fine with being yourself anymore? I don’t want that. I want you to be happy with you.”

  “I mean that I can’t…”

  “Can’t what, Vyr?”

  “Never mind. I’ll be back later.”

  “Vyr!”

  But she couldn’t feel him there anymore. Couldn’t feel the dull ache behind her eyes that said he was present.

  Runner.

  Sadly, she waved her fingers gently through the air, and without touching the pen, she changed the rhythm again and drew a bubble-letter U under the broken heart. She shouldn’t feel so strongly about someone this fast. She should be questioning it and running away, but he was here, steady, listening to her, caring about her, wanting to be a part of her day. It wasn’t that she was avoiding loneliness either. She hung on every word Vyr said because each seemed important. Like the rest of her life was blurry, but when she and Vyr were together in her head, he was drawn up in fine focus and everything else could burn for all she cared.

  The headache came back with a vengeance and she startled when Vyr said, “I can’t have you. Because of what I am, where I am, and all the messed-up parts of my life, I can’t have you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m going to lose the dragon, and even if part of me lives, will I really be alive? I’ll never fly again, never touch the clouds. I will be earthbound and missing the biggest part of me, and I’ve seen this. I’ve seen what happens when shifters lose their animals. They don’t come back from that. Usually they beg for death anyway. Even if I live through this and could take you out on a date when I get out…I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “Even if it’s what I want?”

  “Wants and needs are very different when you are around a man like me, Riyah. You might want me, but you need better than anything I could ever give you.”

  “Vyr—”

  “Something’s happening. Emmitt’s pissed. He’s in his observation room yelling at someone on the phone about no more inmates are to be brought to the lower levels. Can you find out what’s going on?”

  “Yeah. I’ll bring you with me.” Riyah bolted out the door, but the hallway was empty and too quiet. What the hell?

  She rushed down the tile hallway, her black pumps clicking against the tile floor with every hurried step. She passed the upper level cafeteria, but the group of inmates who were scheduled to be eating right now were nowhere to be seen. Trays were left where they were, food half eaten, cups were overturned, water was dripping down the side of one table. The only person remaining was one of the kitchen staff named Euless.

  “What’s happening?” she asked.

  The old man didn’t even look up at her, just continued to sweep up a mess one of the inmates must’ve made before they left. “New inmates are being brought in,” he said in a bored voice.

  “Do they lock down the entire facility every time there are new inmates?”

  “Nope.”

  She stood in the open doorway, waiting a few seconds before she got irritated and barked, “Euless! What’s going on?”

  With a sigh, he leaned on the broom and glared at her. “Nox Fuller and Torren Taylor are here.”

  Riyah went dumb. There was an entire three-count where she just stood there with her mouth hanging open. “Th-the-the…crew?” They did it?

  “Yep. The Red Dragon’s crew is gonna be in the same building as him, and everyone is freaking the fuck out. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have mixed vegetables to clean off the floor, because that’s what I do. I clean up after grown men like they are three-hundred-pound toddlers. I hate my life. Have a good day.”

  Right. “Okay, see you later, Euless. You’re doing a fine job.” Riyah speed-walked away, continuing her journey down the long, abandoned hallway. She waited until she passed the camera up in the corner before she whispered, “Vyr.”

  “Yeah? I’m here. What’s happening? You shut me out. Is it bad?”

  She panted as she jogged in her damn high heels toward the front, barred window. She looked out on the grounds. It was all mowed grass, barbed wire fences, and security towers with a dozen weapons trained on a white transport van.

  There were twenty guards, at least, surrounding two men that were stepping out of the van. The first was blond with piercing blue eyes and a full beard. He was laughing like a lunatic, and then he went serious in a flash and lurched at one of the guards, who flinched back. The man laughed again. Even from here, with her less-sensitive human hearing, she could make out his voice clearly. “You should’ve seen how stupid your face looked, man! It matched your stupid looking hair.” He was built like an eighteen-wheeler. Oh, she’d done her research. He was the half-crazed loner grizzly shifter and only son of the Cursed Bear, Clinton Fuller. He was a monster when he Changed and was notorious for fighting everyone and everything. She was staring at none other than Nox Fuller.

  Another man followed right behind him, handcuffed just like the blond, wearing a matching tan prison outfit, his neck and arms completely covered in tattoos. He was taller than the other, much wider in the shoulders, with jet black hair, a short beard, and blazing green eyes. He wore a smirk on his face, like he was amused by Nox’s trash-talk. Torren Taylor, aka HavoK, aka the new Kong—biggest, baddest, brawler silverback shifter in existence. He was also completely devoted to his best friend and alpha.

  “Holy shit,” she whispered.

  “What?” Vyr asked.

  “I wish you could see this. They did it.”

  “Who?”

  “The Sons of Beasts are here.”

  She was met with stunned silence.

  “Vyr,” she murmured, watching the guards escort the two giants into the prison. “Your crew came for you.”

  Chapter Eight

  Vyr couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight, couldn’t look away from his reflection in the two-way mirror glass. He looked awful, but in his eyes, he saw something he’d only begun to feel recently when Riyah had shown up—hope.

  They were here? Torren? Nox? Did Nevada and Candace make it into the girls’ side on the west wing of the prison?

  My crew, my crew.

  The dragon clenched inside of him, and it was an unfamiliar feeling. It was desperation from the monster, but he’d never been desperate before. Only angry.

  They were here. He let off a shaky breath and closed his eyes, reached out for them with his mind, but they weren’t there like Riyah was. He hadn’t seen Torren and Nox for six months, and he’d lost the connection to them. If he could just see them face to face, he could fix the broken bond, but there were too many walls between them right now.

  The dragon writhed again, doubling Vyr over, and there it was—the anger. He was angry that he’d been cut off from his people.

  Torren, Torren, Torren. Nox. Fuck, he wanted out. Needed out. Needed to see them.

  “I just want to see them.”

  “I know.” Riyah. She was still here, still in his head, and he was in hers.

  He’d forgotten for a moment.

>   “I’m going to see what I can do, okay?” she said low. “I’m going to talk to the guards right now and see what I can find out.”

  “Ask how they got in. Ask what they did to land in here. How much time did they each get? Are Nevada and Candace on the women’s side? Fuck. Riyah, I don’t feel right…”

  “Vyr, you have to settle down. I can feel you getting riled up, feel the dragon, and you can’t do that right now. Go sit on the bed.”

  He gritted out, “I’m not some dog you order to—”

  “Sit.”

  His growl rattled the room and shook the walls. Chips of cement rained down on him and the lights flickered. He was losing it.

  “Steady breaths,” Riyah whispered. She must be walking where people were because she rarely whispered.

  His body buckled, and he went to his knees on the way to the bed. Shit!

  “Vyr, listen—”

  “Where are you? I need…I need…” You. He wished he could say that last part, but he couldn’t get her hooked on him. Not when he was halfway to hell already. He couldn’t drag her with him. She deserved a good life.

  “Babe, stop. Everything is okay. I’m stepping into the restroom…checking stalls…I’m alone. I just called you ‘babe.’”

  Her tone sounded shocked, and Vyr huffed out a breath. “I liked it. I liked it. I’m babe. Fuck, Riyah, listen. You need to get out of the facility.”

  “Oh my gosh. Vyr, I’m coming down to you.”

  “No!” he yelled out loud. “Leave. Please!”

  “I’m not leaving. You need to stop the Change. Stop it or you’ll put me in danger.”

  “Riyah,” he snarled in an inhuman voice. Already he could feel the cutting pain of his wings scratching to burst out of his back. He could feel his Firestarter begging to be clicked. Could feel the burn of his fire that would explode from his throat. Emmitt called this place hell, but he was wrong. Hell dwelled inside of Vyr. And right now he was having serious trouble keeping the demons inside.

  He could feel her coming. She was running toward the elevators. She slid her security card as fast as she could at every reader. He could hear the echo of her heels. Faster, faster. No, no, no.

  “Riyah, please stop! It’s been too long. I just want to see them.” He was delirious with the pain, writhing on the ground as he tried to force the dragon back inside. There was chaos as guards surrounded him. Stinging pain as they shot him with the damn meds to try to quell the dragon. Warmth trickled down his lip to his chin. Drip, drip. The Sickening. The Sickening, and Riyah would see him again. But worse, she would see the Red Dragon, and if she survived him, she would never look at him the same.

  Please, he begged the dragon. Let me keep her for a little while. Let me keep her. He couldn’t think. Everything hurt. Someone was singing. Riyah?

  She was singing the lyrics to “Baby Got Back.” And she was actually doing a pretty decent job of rapping. If his body wasn’t on fire right now, he would’ve laughed.

  She was really coming for him. Ridiculous woman didn’t understand what kind of danger she was in. This facility couldn’t hold the Red Dragon. Oh, the guards thought it could, but they were so fuckin’ wrong it was crazy. The people here were still breathing because of the monumental effort he made to keep some semblance of control over his evil side.

  And yep, he fully believed the Red Dragon was evil. He didn’t feel. He didn’t care. He was hunger and vengeance. That’s it. That’s all. Hunger. Vengeance. Vyr cared very deeply for a few people, but the Red Dragon had cared about literally nothing.

  Until Riyah.

  You’ll hurt her. Vyr gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes closed as his wings ripped out of his body. Fuck. Stop. Stop, or you’ll kill her and then you’ll go back to having nothing and no one.

  A roar screamed from his body, wracking him with a seizure and shaking the room. More cement rained down, and all the lights above him blew. And then there was fire, burning up his throat and illuminating the cell that wouldn’t hold his monster.

  And as the dragon ripped from him, cell by cell, taking over his mind like black poison… Vyr went to the dark, once again.

  Chapter Nine

  “Move!” Riyah screamed at the guards blocking the doors to Vyr’s cell.

  “He isn’t stopping, lady! And this place isn’t built for a Change like this!”

  Riyah barely resisted the urge to flick her fingers and throw the assholes against the wall with the power that pulsed out of her. She needed to keep singing. Stay calm, keep Vyr calm.

  There was a deafening roar that shook the ground beneath her feet. Shit. She was out of time. She muscled her way between them and slid her card in the reader.

  “Mercer! No!”

  “Fuck off, Emmitt. If I don’t stop him, who will? Not your goddamn meds! Look what good those did!”

  Emmitt’s face was red as he stood over her, his hand splayed on the door.

  “I can do this,” she pleaded.

  Emmitt shook his head and shoved a leather pouch against her chest. “This isn’t tested, and we only have one dose, but it’s supposed to be more potent than the other meds. It could kill the dragon. Kill it before it kills everyone in here.”

  Riyah wanted to puke. She wanted to puke and then crush Emmitt with her power, but she didn’t have time for angry reactions. She had to get in there. She shoved Emmitt’s arm off the door and opened it, and what she saw horrified her.

  The lights were flickering on and off, buzzing with waves of power. Vyr was still partly human, but he had massive, blood-red, torn and tattered, dragon wings stretching from his back. His face was contorted in rage and anguish and was dripping with blood. He arched his head back and spewed fire at the observation windows on the opposite side of the cell. His eyes were completely vacant, as though he’d shut down completely. But she understood what pain he had to be in to be half Changed and still fighting to keep his skin like this. Fire and magma streaming from a human throat must’ve been agony. Her heart broke. It broke, simple as that. In this moment, she knew she loved him. She knew she would do anything to make his pain less.

  Tears streaming down her face, Riyah ran right for him. He beat his wings, the talons on the ends scratching deep divots into the cement walls as he rounded on her, his eyes blazing silver with elongated pupils. This dragon sure didn’t look half-dead.

  Terrified but determined, Riyah pushed her legs harder and faster. She heard the clicking of the Firestarter in his chest, but ignored it because she had to trust him. She had to have faith that Vyr wouldn’t burn her. That his dragon would let her live. And turning around to run would only get her hurt faster anyway.

  Almost there. Almost.

  Faster. Her legs were burning, but clutching the leather pouch, she jumped the last few feet and crashed into him just as he opened his mouth full of razor sharp teeth. There were faint scales on his skin and he was turning red, and she was so scared, but she wrapped herself around him and held on for dear life.

  When the dragon roared, Riyah’s head rang with the sheer volume of it. “Listen. Listen,” she begged, voice shaking. “It’s me. It’s Riyah. And you said you couldn’t have me, but you can. Vyr. Red Dragon, look.”

  His arms went tight around her. Too tight, and his nails dug into her back. Too sharp. He was going to crush her.

  “Look!” she screamed, struggling to pull the syringe out of the pouch. “This can kill the dragon. Do you want me to kill it?”

  Vyr’s face twisted in rage, but he didn’t crush her anymore. “No,” he rasped out. “Don’t kill me.”

  “Stick him now!” Emmitt screamed under the flickering lights, and the clatter of weaponry sounded. Dozens of rifles clicked, metal on metal, as they were cocked and loaded. There had to be forty guards down here, ready to end Vyr. Ready to end her just for being in the way.

  Vyr’s hand went to the back of her head as though he was trying to protect her as he blasted a fireball at the densest population of guards.
They bolted out of the way, and walls shook with the force of the blast. Vyr’s skin was turning hot against her. Too hot.

  “Stick him, or I’m giving the order!” Emmitt screamed from beside the door. He had a high-powered rifle trained on them, too.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She couldn’t. She couldn’t be the one to kill him. He’d asked her not to. One dose. One shot. Untested. Eyes burning, Riyah eased back and whispered, “Pretend…and then save me.”

  The dragon’s pupils constricted, and the rage on Vyr’s face flickered away like a flame being blown out. Confusion took its place. And as she slammed the needle toward his neck, he yelled, “No!”

  But Vyr was safe from her. She couldn’t hurt him to save herself. She blocked the guards view as best she could and slammed the needle into her arm, no more than an inch from his neck. “Pretend,” she pleaded.

  And as she emptied that vial into herself, Vyr jerked. A long, low rumble emanated from him as his entire body tensed. With a small whimper, Riyah ripped the empty syringe from herself and dropped it on the floor.

  “She did it!” Emmitt shouted. “Back off. Give them space, back off!”

  “What have you done?” Vyr gritted out.

  “You’re mine, and I can’t hurt you. Stop the Change. Please. Hide what I’ve done, or I can’t stay here.”

  “Fuck. Fuck. Riyah.” Vyr collapsed to his knees.

  Dizzy, she adjusted the sleeve of her white blouse and scrambled away from Vyr as his body shook with power. The air was heavy, full of smoke, and it was getting hard to see, but Vyr looked at her, locked gazes with her, and clenched his teeth. He was on his knees. He blasted his fists against the cement floor as agony roiled in his eyes. His wings stretched the length of the room, his nostrils flared as he heaved breath, and every muscle on his naked torso rippled with tension.

  “Sing,” he murmured. He rolled his eyes closed, and she picked up where she left off on “Baby Got Back,” but softly, her lips barely moving, the words hardly scratching up her raw throat. The smoke made her want to cough, but she resisted the urge so she could continue the song.