Shadowed Lies (Soul of a Dragon Book 2)

by Clara Hartley

Why was it so dark? What kind of spell was this? Something, or someone, didn’t want her following Marzia.

  Constance waited in front of the fireplace, turning her head every few minutes to see if her friend had returned. She had searched through her books for something explaining the darkness outside, but came up with nothing.

  Hours had ticked by. The crickets outside were fully awake, singing away, drowning out the sounds of the gentler breeze.

  Footsteps clicked behind her. Marzia? Minor hallucinations had started because of her fatigue. Sometimes Constance heard the redhead’s voice sounding behind her.

  It wasn’t healthy.

  “You should go to bed,” Rayse said. “I don’t think expectant mothers should be going to bed so late.”

  She startled, then spun around to see her mate strolling up to her. “Don’t creep up on me like that.”

  “Sorry.” He slid his hands over her shoulders. Together with the fur linings, his touch prickled her skin. His touch was too sinfully soothing against her. She was afraid she enjoyed his presence too much. It was calming her and lulling her to sleep.

  She blinked her eyes hard. Keeping her eyes wide open was starting to become a challenge. She considered securing them open with wooden pegs. “I hope she comes back soon. Then I can finally get some rest.”

  “You could rest now.”

  She laughed wryly. “I tried. The worry kept me awake. Do you think she’s all right?” She had imagined ten thousand ways Marzia could die while out there. It didn’t even have to relate to magic. A light slip over a rock and a hit on Marzia’s head would do the trick.

  “She needed a walk.”

  “Walks don’t take this long. How long has it been? Is it almost morning yet?”

  “Hardly.” He bent down and kissed the back of her hand. “Come, let me bring you to our room.”

  His muscular arms looked so inviting. She desperately needed sleep, but the adrenaline caused by her thoughts kept her awake.”

  “Maybe just a little while longer.”

  Rayse let out a sigh. “I can’t stand seeing you like this. You’re coming with me.”

  Her first thought was to resist, but her body wouldn’t allow her to. She breathed a soft moan as he scooped her up into his arms. The warmth of the fireplace paled in comparison to Rayse’s.

  But Marzia…

  She wanted to fight against Rayse’s insistence. She couldn’t.

  Rapping sounded on the door and it clicked open. The song of mountain winds whizzed through the wooden walls. Constance straightened. Rayse looked behind him. She pried herself out of Rayse’s hold. He let her go without much resistance, and allowed her to slide down onto the floor.

  The small frame of Marzia came into the dim light, Nanili trailing along behind her.

  Constance rushed up to her friend and grabbed her arms to inspect them for scratches and bruises. “Are you all right? Hurt? Did something happen?”

  The tears on Marzia’s cheeks had long dried up. In fact, Marzia actually appeared… brighter? She wasn’t exactly spirited, but she no longer projected the same despair she had in the afternoon.

  “Where did you go?” Constance asked.

  “Out. Walking. Exploring the place to clear my mind. I don’t know exactly where. It was too dark to tell.”

  “What’s that you’re holding?”

  “Nothing important.” Marzia hid the scroll-like object behind her back.

  Constance itched to snatch it away, but her first concern was Marzia’s safety. “Did you slip or fall? It was unusually dark. Even Rayse couldn’t see.”

  Marzia raised a brow. “He couldn’t? He’s a dragon.” She then nodded to herself. “I traveled along the more level plains, and Nanili guided me.”

  “Marzia, we think there was magic involved. It wasn’t a normal kind of darkness.”

  “I could see just fine. The moonlight helped.”

  “But that doesn’t make sense.” Constance pressed her lips together.

  “You’re the one being silly.” Marzia looked down, then back up. “I’m all right.”

  “I’m just glad you’re back, safe and sound.” Constance’s relief was accompanied by a sudden rush of tiredness. Her energy, no longer fueled by her rambling thoughts, gushed away as quickly as water would through a broken dam. “Do you want to talk now?” Constance was in no mood to talk. All she wanted to do was crash on her soft, silky bed, while wrapped in Rayse’s arms. But she couldn’t leave in case Marzia needed her company.

  “Go rest,” Marzia said, smiling as she shook her head. “You look like you haven’t slept in years.”

  “We could…” Constance thought about perusing through the black magic books with Marzia, then decided otherwise. It would make her friend sad again. “You should warm up. It must have been freezing outside.” She ambled up to the fireplace, which had died down over the course of the night, and picked up the stick next to it to stoke the flames. She added more wood as she did so.

  “You don’t have to fuss over me. Take care of yourself. It’s not just your own health you have to think about.” Marzia gripped Constance’s shoulder and pulled her up. “I’m fine,” she said, managing a wide, seemingly forced, grin. At least she can smile, Constance thought. “I ran things through my mind when I was outside. No use worrying about something I can’t do anything about. I can only trust and believe that Fraser will be coming back. That’s the least I can do for him.”

  “Listen to her,” Rayse said to Constance. “You look like you’re in worse shape than she is.” Her mate wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her toward his side.

  “Aren’t you exhausted?” Constance asked, befuddled. Marzia was the one who’d been outside in the cold all this time. She wasn’t even slightly shivering. Any normal human being would at least have chapped lips by now.

  Marzia shrugged. “I feel rested, actually. More rested than I’ve ever been.”

  “Okay…” Constance let Rayse guide her away, stealing a glance at the redhead before climbing up the mahogany stairs.

  Marzia clasped her hands together, almost as if she was praying. Nanili stood like a shadowed cloud next to her. The sight struck a wrong chord in Constance. Her tiredness was probably making her mind easily worked up.

  A tapping on the door alerted them. At this hour?

  “Come in,” Rayse called.

  Shen burst in, swinging the entrance wide open. “Milord. We have another murder.”

  Chapter 6

  Rayse and Shen hurried through the mountains. He had left Constance back with the mishram and Marzia. It was too dangerous to have her out with him, and she could barely keep her eyes open. He made sure she was properly tucked in before hurrying off, despite the urgency of the situation. She had fallen asleep almost immediately.

  They landed on the platform the murder had taken place. It was a snowy day, and ice had formed over the rocks of the cliffs.

  He called to his wings, which were spread open, and they folded closed. He heard his heart pounding in his ears. Another incident. His suspicions and instincts had been true, then. This wasn’t an isolated case.

  Shen paced forward, and Rayse followed. They reached a thatched house. Urick’s home? Urick wasn’t an important dragon, but Rayse made it a point to remember everyone’s names. If Urick was the victim, that meant that his wife, Ophelia, was dead. Rayse had spoken to her a few times. She was a charming lady, with a smile that made her eyes so small, he could only see wrinkles whenever she grinned.

  He brushed past the small crowd that had gathered. There weren’t more than ten people there, since Urick lived on the outskirts of their clan. The house wasn’t as morbidly red as Karona’s was. Apparently, each dragon reacted differently to each incident. Urick hadn’t tried to rip his own skin off. He sat next to his wife’s dead body and stared blankly ahead.

  One of Rayse’s men ran up to him.

  “Did you get anything?” Rayse asked.

  “He hasn’t said a
nything since we’ve found him, milord,” the warrior responded.

  Rayse nodded and walked up to Urick. He knelt next to the shaken man and waved his hand in front of his blank face.

  A beat.

  No response.

  Then Urick blinked and turned his gaze to Rayse. “I saw your wife,” he said. “Right before I lost it.”

  Rayse frowned. “What did she do?”

  “She made me…” The ashen man glanced down at the corpse. She had a red ring around her throat, and her face was bluish. Suffocation. A terrible way to go. Rayse recalled Ophelia’s warm demeanor in that brief moment he’d met her. There was nothing hearty about her now. Urick quivered. “The femriahl said something strange. She asked me to warn… herself? ‘Tell Constance to stop prying and let me have my fun. Her turn will come soon’ were the exact words. Then rage took over my mind.” Urick pursed his lips. “I still can’t believe I did this.”

  A chill came over Rayse. Her turn? He studied the broken dragon. Was he to be like this in the future? Was he to be the next victim?

  Not wanting to stare at his own fate anymore, he pushed himself to his feet. “His children?” he asked Shen.

  “Luckily, he has none, sir,” the yellow dragon replied.

  “Take him in. We’ll put him on trial, like Karona.”

  Shen tugged Urick to his feet. The man went along, but before leaving, he kept a tight grip on his wife’s dead body. He wouldn’t let go until Shen pried his hand away.

  That was when Urick finally cried.

  Rayse felt for the man, but more so, he feared for himself.

  They pushed past the small crowd. He heard his mate’s name being uttered a few times. They were worried about her relationship to these killings.

  They took to the skies. He was to return to Constance, but wasn’t certain if he should anymore.

  “Stay,” Rayse said.

  He kept his weight on his mate. Her frame was as soft as feathers under him. He could crush her at any moment, and that fragility made him even more worried. The sun had risen moments ago, and because her body was used to it, Constance had woken along with it. She shouldn’t have, however. She needed a few more hours of sleep.

  “The clinic…” She pressed her hands over her eyes. Dark circles rimmed her sockets.

  “You’re not going anywhere today. Not after staying up so late last night.”

  “You’re the one always obsessed over rules and punctuality.” She absent-mindedly kissed his cheek and made a satisfied sound. He liked that, but she obviously wasn’t awake enough to go to work. “I’m going.”

  You’re letting her tire, the dragon in him chided. You’re doing a terrible job as her mate.

  He suppressed an annoyed growl. Why couldn’t she just sit there and listen when she needed to? Goddess, he loved that she had spunk, but her hard head could be so difficult to deal with at times.

  “You know what, just take these eighteen months off,” he said.

  Her eyes widened. She shot up, and if not for his reaction, she would have hurt her head on his jaw. “I can’t do that! It’s clan policy—”

  “I’m the femrah.” He leaned in and held her hands. “I get to decide whatever in dragon’s name I want.”

  “That’s not what being a leader is about.”

  “Of course it is.” Yes, he understood he had to care for his clan and hold it together, but whenever Constance came into the picture, such rules went out of the window. He would do anything in his power to keep her and his child safe.

  “You’re not being fair to me here,” Constance said. “What will the rest of the dragons think when all their pregnant wives have to go to work while I get to laze around at home? Half the men in this clan already look like they want to rip me apart.”

  “Then I’ll rip their bloody asses into two. Just give me the name of whichever dragon dares shoot any glances that you find the slightest bit distasteful your way.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I mean. Eighteen months is a long time. I can’t rot in this building for two years. Plus, I’m not even sure if the pregnancy will last that long.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Complications, perhaps?” Why was she so insistent about not carrying her baby to term? Did she not want it?

  “I’ll have peace of mind,” he said. “You’ll be right where I want you, and you and our daughter will be safe.”

  “Sure, physically. I can’t say the same about my mental health. I’ll go mad. I’m not some porcelain doll, Rayse.”

  He sighed. “I know.” He really didn’t. The small size of her already proved otherwise. Sometimes he felt he could break her into two if he pushed too hard. She might as well be made of glass.

  “You can pick me up again tonight? We still haven’t tried that dessert.”

  She got up and strode toward the cabinet. She was halfway to her clothes when he grabbed her wrist and forced her back down onto the bed. “I don’t take no for an answer, little fire.”

  “I want to talk to Greta about what happened last night with Fraser’s companions. She might have a thing or two to say about the black magic.”

  “That can wait till tomorrow.”

  “The quicker we get to the bottom of this, the better.”

  The words from Urick coursed through his mind. He really shouldn’t be here. “About yesterday… little fire, I think I should leave.”

  “What? No.”

  He wanted to wipe her worry away, but he couldn’t. Not when he shared the same unease.

  He ran a hand over his hair. “There was another murder.”

  “Another? That means… It’s recurring, then.”

  “The victim yesterday gave me a message. I think you’re next.” He let the severity of it all settle. But if he left now… how long would he have to live without her? A week, a month? Centuries?

  He was losing control of his emotions. In all his five hundred years, losing his cool wasn’t a common event. His coming child and Urick’s warning had changed that in a mere two days.

  She lowered herself onto him and wrapped him in an embrace. “We have to do this together, love.”

  He pondered kissing her just so that he could relish her taste. She could be so intoxicating, looking like an angel with her brown curls cascading over her chest. He could rile her with the slightest of actions even when he was on the edge. Especially so.

  Kissing her would make his dragon go insane, and then he’d have to take her right there and then. Not something he wanted Constance to remember him doing. “And what if it all goes wrong?” he said. “What if I end up like Karona, or Urick? I won’t be able to live with myself. I’d go insane and throw myself off the nearest cliff.”

  “Hiding isn’t the answer.”

  “Then what is?”

  “We’ll find out. But with you here. Next to me. And not in some faraway land where I can’t talk to you. That’ll break us. You know that.” She pulled his head down and pressed her lips to his. It immediately sent a jolt rushing through his body.

  The kiss wasn’t passionate, however, and left as soon as it came. Goddess be damned, he needed more. He breathed in her flowery scent and tried to let it calm him. “I’m afraid,” he admitted. He felt for her so much that it made his insides hurt. He had just found her and he wanted to cherish her like the treasure she was. If this mage or witch ruined it all, he would be shredded.

  She caressed his cheek. The dawn’s sunlight weaved through the room, casting an orange glow over her. She looked amazing. Like a goddess. “It’s okay to be scared. But Rayse Everstone isn’t the kind to hide from his problems. The Black Menace can face his fears head-on.”

  He smiled and kissed her palm. She was so tender. “I love you,” he said. “You mean everything to me.”

  Her eyes softened with his admission. She wrapped her arms around him. She was like a cool breeze against his frame, supple and gentle—the mother of his child. “I’ll be here,” sh
e said. “For the next five hundred years, I’ll be by your side, so you don’t have to worry.”

  He wished she was telling the truth. With all his heart, he did. He heard the subtle fall and rise of her chest. He ran his fingers down to the small of her back. She inhaled sharply when he found her sensitive spot at the side of her hip. He kissed her and grinned into her lips. The sensation of her silky skin made heat seep through every pore of his body.

  “Constance,” he muttered. It was a plea. He wanted more of her. He advanced, and she backed up, allowing him to crawl onto the bed. His hands found the strap of the frock she wore.

  She arched her back and drew him in with a tug. Her hair splayed out behind her head, framing her beautiful face.

  Sometimes he couldn’t believe she was really his. His cock strained in his pants, forming a tent because of how amazing she looked. He positioned himself on top of her, kneeling over her. The scent of her arousal hit him. He felt his dragon stir.

  He tugged her dress aside and lowered his lips onto her nipple. He darted his tongue out and licked her nub. She moaned his name. He growled in pleasure. His mind fogged, and she filled the very center of his world.

  A spark of rage lit.

  Anger for this woman rose. Desire to give her death surged through him like a storm.

  Kill… kill her… He couldn’t be certain that was his own voice he heard.

  Immense hatred buried his love of Constance. A predatory urge to hurt her took over.

  “C-Constance,” he croaked.

  And then he was gone. He blacked out in a fit of hunger for violence. He thought he could hear his name in the background, but it only seeped into his consciousness as a muffled sound.

  He smelled blood, and that only fueled his need to destroy.

  “Rayse!”

  Her sharp voice broke through. He looked down at the mess beneath him with confusion and horror. The bloodlust vanished as abruptly as it had come.

  He let go of his mate. “Wh-what have I…”

  They were both straining to breathe. The tension in his chest almost hurt. Just moments ago, he had reveled in the scent of her sweet blood. Now he found the knowledge that he had spilled it utterly repulsive.