dragons breath 01 - stalked by flames

by Susan Illene

  He glanced at his sister. She'd let her long, wavy black hair fall freely down her back and put on a low-cut, red camrium tunic that hugged her figure like a glove. He half-expected to find a pack of eager dragons trailing at her heels, but she appeared to have come alone.

  “And this surprises you?” he asked.

  Amusement glinted in her yellow eyes. “Not really, but Zoran has been complaining about your absence to father.”

  “I’m certain he has.”

  She moved to stand at his side and gazed at all the revelers. “I’ve never seen the clan this happy.”

  “They’re celebrating our return to Earth. Of course, they’re pleased.”

  “Hmmm.” She passed her mug over to him. “Then drink and join them.”

  He took a swig, enjoying the burn as it went down his throat. Alefire was thick and potent with a spicy aftertaste. He could feel it settling in his stomach, warming him inside. No one who wished to think clearly or stand without assistance consumed more than two mugs. The last time he’d overindulged he’d awakened on the fortress wall with one leg dangling over the side. He handed the drink back to her.

  “I’ll see you later, sister,” he said, clasping her arm before he left.

  The scent of roasted meat called to Aidan. In all his life, he’d never seen this much available for consumption at one time. He pulled his dagger from his belt and walked up to a fire pit with a cow suspended over it. Much of the belly was already gone, but he was able to carve away pieces from the haunches and ribs. He chewed, savoring the flavor.

  “You’ve come after all,” Zoran said, walking up behind him.

  Aidan refrained from growling, but his inner beast did enough for both of them inside his head. It was just like his eldest brother to interrupt him during a perfectly fine meal. He carved off another bite and finished chewing before turning around.

  “I’ve been here for a while now,” he lied.

  Zoran snorted, letting out a billow of steam. “I’m sure you have. Father has been looking for you.”

  “Why?”

  “The contests are about to begin. He wants his sons to fight first.” Zoran’s eyes gleamed. “Especially since you proved yourself so well during the attack a few days ago.”

  Aidan tensed. He’d hoped his brother wouldn’t find out about that, but had suspected some of the guards might spread the story. Perhaps Zoran would think it a fluke.

  “I should go out on patrol. Some of us need to keep an eye on things while others enjoy the celebration.” That excuse had worked more than once for Aidan when these contests occurred. Though, usually he ended up in his room with a female shape-shifter.

  “Not this time, brother.” Zoran put an arm over Aidan’s shoulders and guided him along. “We can’t have our great savior missing a chance to show his battle prowess.”

  This was Zoran’s doing. He must have impressed it on their father that Aidan should participate.

  “Who is fighting whom?” Aidan asked.

  They passed through the front gates and onto the open fields surrounding the fortress walls. The grass was beginning to wither out there due to the lack of rain, contrasting with their gray stone walls.

  “I’ll be fighting Ruari first. You’ll go after that.”

  Aidan clenched his teeth. “With who?”

  “You’ll see.” Zoran gave him a self-satisfied look.

  They reached the edge of the onlookers and his brother left him, heading for the field. Ruari was already out there waiting. Zoran took his position about one hundred paces away. The pendragon came to stand in the space between them.

  “In celebration of our return to Earth I’ve called for a contest,” he called, loud enough for everyone to hear. “My two eldest sons, Zoran and Ruari, will go first.”

  Cheers went up through the crowd. This was the first time the pendragon had ever allowed his sons to fight each other in a contest. Usually, they took on opponents from outside their immediate family. No one from the clan would want to miss this match. Even Aidan was curious how it would go. Zoran was large and strong, but Ruari had cunning on his side. It would be an interesting fight.

  “Zoran, as the eldest, you choose which form to take for battle.” the pendragon said. It was a contest rule that the older of the two opponents always got to decide, regardless of rank or station.

  He dipped his chin. “Dragon.”

  Excitement rose in the crowd.

  “Very well. Prepare yourselves.”

  Ruari’s face was a granite mask. He couldn’t have been happy with his brother’s selection even if it was the most common. It was much easier to use cunning and trickery in a human body. He wasn’t as well practiced in his dragon form.

  The brothers released their fire, allowing it to engulf their bodies. In less than a minute, they reappeared as red dragons. Ruari had silver tips on his scales and Zoran had black. The elder brother was larger and more heavily muscled with thicker horns on his head. He snorted and huffed, scraping at the ground with his claws. Ruari stood on all four legs, perfectly still. He was no doubt concocting some sort of a battle plan.

  The pendragon glanced between them and raised his arms. When he dropped them, a roar of fire came from his mouth. It was louder than thunder and echoed off the mountains behind him. His flames extended so far they nearly reached the spectators—not an easy thing to do in human form. It was the traditional sign to charge into battle.

  As soon as the pendragon left the field, the brothers charged forward, shaking the ground with their heavy steps. Dirt and grass flew up behind them. They collided, teeth and claws cutting through the air as they fought for the best position.

  Aidan wasn’t certain who he wished to win. They were both thorns in his side. Rather than cheering them, he watched how each of his brothers moved. Though he’d watched them fight before, it never hurt to keep up with their latest strategies. Someday, he’d likely have to fight at least one of them.

  Zoran swiped his claws across Ruari’s face, catching him on the soft tissue at the tip of his nose. It was hardly a mortal wound, but it would hurt enough to be a distraction. Ruari shook his head and pulled back a step. So far neither had come off the ground, exposing their bellies. A smart dragon wouldn’t unless forced into it.

  A gleam came over Ruari’s eyes. In the next moment, he opened his jaw wide and let out a bellow of fire. While Zoran was blinded by it, Ruari spun around and swung his tail into his brother’s head. The spikes at the end caught in one of Zoran’s eyes. He bellowed in pain and backed up a few feet. Blood filled his right eye socket and dripped down his snout.

  Smart. Ruari had limited his brother’s vision. He charged Zoran next, angling his jaw to chomp at his throat. A heartbeat from being struck the older brother ducked his head low to the ground. As Ruari stepped over him, Zoran dug his horns into his belly and lifted the younger dragon, sending him catapulting through the air.

  Ruari landed on his back, flailing his legs wildly. Cheers rose up from the crowd. Zoran circled around and leaped onto his younger brother before he could get himself turned over. He scraped his claws along Ruari’s belly in a move no one could mistake for anything but a kill strike—if he dug deeper. As it was, the soft scales had deep gashes with blood oozing from them. Dragon claws were sharp as razors, but they could only penetrate easily at the center of the stomach.

  “Finished!” the pendragon called out.

  That had ended even faster than Aidan expected. He’d thought Zoran would win, but he had hoped Ruari would come up with something more creative to draw the battle out. In fact, he’d been certain of it. Had his brother lost the match so quickly on purpose?

  Zoran marched off the field with his head held high and his tail swishing. It annoyed Aidan to see him that smug and arrogant. He was half tempted to go over and knock him down a peg or two. Give him a real battle. His inner dragon agreed.

  “The next match will be between Falcon and Aidan,” the pendragon announced. “Take your po
sitions.”

  Aidan froze. Falcon was one of the strongest warriors in the clan—possibly the strongest. He’d had over five centuries to hone his battle skills. Even in contests among clan members, most of his opponents had to be carried away.

  Falcon stepped onto the field, his light olive skin shining in the sun as if he’d already fought a battle or two and had the sweat to prove it. His brown hair was loose and curtained his face. He wore the same type of black pants and vest that Aidan did, but he filled his with larger muscles—ones that took centuries to develop. The shape-shifter was in his prime and a warrior that few had ever bested.

  Winning against a lesser opponent wouldn’t have been a problem. Aidan could do that without drawing too much attention, but fighting someone with Falcon’s reputation? Whether he won or lost, this would be a bloody battle.

  Chapter 21

  Aidan

  His mind raced as he considered the best course to take. He could feel the spectator’s eyes on him, boring into his back. Murmurs of doubt about his prowess mingled with skepticism that such a match should even take place. But above all else everyone wanted to know how long he would last against Falcon. Coin exchanged hands as they placed their bets.

  Aidan had avoided most of these contests since he’d come of age at twenty-five. It had been important that no one know how well he could truly fight. During real battles, he’d always held back if he suspected others were watching. One more layer of protection while he plotted ways to ensure his long-term survival.

  He stepped onto the field, taking measured steps toward the position where his father indicated. Aidan didn’t look at anyone and kept his face an emotionless mask. Whether he liked it or not, this battle would happen. And damn his dragon’s pride—he’d give them a good show.

  “Falcon, do you choose dragon or human form for this battle?” Throm asked.

  Aidan refrained from tightening his fists.

  “Human.”

  He almost growled. What was Falcon up to? Most contests were fought in dragon form—the same as real battles. Whispers spread across the crowd as they pondered the choice. Falcon had taken everyone by surprise.

  It didn’t matter. Aidan and Donar practiced regularly away from the clan where no one could watch. Their skills were far greater than anyone knew. They’d also been out killing the occasional pure dragon with swords to assess strategies for Bailey’s training.

  The pendragon nodded. “Very well. Prepare yourselves.”

  Aidan pulled his sword from shiggara, feeling it take shape in his right hand. Falcon tied his hair back before producing his own blade. It had a jagged edge that could cut through dragon scales if angled just right.

  They lifted their swords and positioned their feet, ready to advance once the pendragon gave the signal. Aidan caught Falcon’s gaze. There was no arrogance or mockery in the warrior’s eyes. He fought in these contests for the challenge and to keep his skills up. Falcon didn’t care about glory—only protecting his clan. Aidan respected him for that. His inner dragon, on the other hand, saw this as an opportunity to prove his prowess against a great fighter.

  The pendragon gave the signal, sending his heart racing as a roar of fire filled the air. In the next moment, he was running toward his opponent with his sword held high. Aidan felt the balls of his feet strike the ground with each step and pushed harder to gain momentum. Falcon lowered his blade a few inches—a small tell that he planned to thrust upward. Good. He’d taken the bait.

  Two paces before they reached each other Aidan angled his body sideways and slid to the ground, continuing feet-first toward his opponent. Gasps came from the crowd and Falcon’s eyes widened. He twisted around, but the maneuver didn’t help him.

  Aidan raised his right arm, aiming his sword at his target’s side as he swept past him. The tip of his blade cut into Falcon above his hip in the small space where his protective vest didn’t quite meet the waistband of his pants. The gash wasn’t deep, but enough to rattle his opponent and everyone watching.

  It had been a calculated move and one Aidan didn’t use often. He didn’t want to give away his best tactics today, but he did want his future opponents guessing which opening move he might make next time. Winning a fight didn’t happen only by being the fastest or the strongest. A smart warrior had to keep his opponent guessing. Play with his mind so that his reaction time slowed because he couldn’t decide on the best defense.

  Aidan barely got to his feet before Falcon went on the attack. The older warrior slashed downward with a determined glint in his eyes and a battle cry on his lips. The sword glided toward Aidan’s head in a blow that would crack his skull. He pulled his blade up and blocked it a hair’s breadth before it reached him.

  The muscles in Aidan’s right arm strained against the force of the blow. It was all he could do to keep the sharp edge from cutting into his scalp. The sword slid closer. He angled his head to the side, but the blade bit into his ear with a sharp sting. The wetness of blood trickled down onto his neck. The beast inside begged to take over, but he ignored it.

  Aidan locked eyes with his opponent. Falcon bared his teeth and pushed harder. Struggling against the force coming down on him, Aidan sidestepped and got out from underneath it. The blade came crashing down where he’d just stood. That had been close—too close.

  Heaving a breath, Aidan pulled his weapon back up and went on the attack. Thrust, block, swing, parry, and they did it all over again as long minutes passed. Their dance across the field thrilled the spectators. He could feel their excitement thrumming through him, urging him to keep going. It was a heady feeling, and yet he hated it. Aidan didn’t like performing for anyone’s pleasure. If he was going to fight, he damned well wanted it to be for a good reason.

  Falcon thrust forward toward Aidan’s chest. He spun to the side to avoid the blade, getting sliced in the forearm instead. The pain was sharp but better that than his heart or lungs. The vest he wore protected his skin, but if the sword point found its way through the front laces, it could severely wound him. His opponent was giving him no quarter. Not that he’d expected any.

  They resumed their dance across the field, matching thrust for thrust. Sweat poured from their bodies due to the unusually high heat. It mixed with the blood of the many cuts and gashes they’d given each other. He could hardly find time to catch his breath, and Falcon was beginning to struggle for air as well. Matches usually didn’t last this long.

  If Aidan were smart and able to overcome his inner beast’s need to prove itself, he’d let his opponent claim the win. The clan would admire him for lasting nearly twenty minutes against such a strong warrior, but his pride wouldn’t let him give up—even if it could mean his eventual downfall.

  He swung his sword out toward Falcon’s neck. His opponent’s blade blocked it a hand’s breadth away. Sparks flew as the swords slid together, bringing the two men closer.

  “I knew you were better than you let on,” Falcon said.

  Aidan gritted his teeth. “Why test me?”

  Falcon pushed away, breaking them apart. Then he went in for the attack again. He fought so hard Aidan was forced to give ground as they moved farther and farther away from the crowd. What was he doing? None of his moves were difficult to block, but they were forceful. He’d tire himself out faster battling this way.

  They were nearly sixty paces from the onlookers when their swords locked once more. Both men struggled for breath, staring at each other. Falcon’s yellow eyes narrowed on him.

  “There will come a time when clan members must choose a man to support. Zoran is an oaf and Ruari is treacherous. I still haven’t decided about you.” He paused. “There are those who believe you are staying out of the way, biding your time.”

  Aidan almost winced. That was a little too close to the truth.

  “Perhaps I plan to support my sister’s claim.” It was something he’d considered more than once.

  Falcon’s lips twitched. “There’s a thought.”


  It wasn’t unprecedented for a female to lead a clan, but it was very rare. Phoebe had many of the right qualities—strength and wisdom among them. She only lacked the drive to fight for the position. Falcon might have made a good pendragon as well if he’d been eligible.

  “Are we going to finish this or are you going to keep talking?” Aidan asked.

  Amusement glinted in Falcon’s eyes. “By all means.”

  The pushed off each other.

  Taking a deep breath, Aidan went on the attack. There were no particular rules on how they fought except they weren’t supposed to kill each other—only simulate a fatal blow. Aidan swung his sword at Falcon. The older dragon blocked it and returned the favor. Aidan parried the thrust. Slowly, they worked their way back across the field toward the crowd.

  When they were less than twenty paces from the onlookers, Falcon shocked Aidan with a cutting blow to his left shoulder. The blade tore through his muscles and tendons, grazing the collarbone. A roar rose up in his ears as intense pain coursed through him. He resisted the urge to let go of his weapon and apply pressure to the injury. Fighting through the agony, he kept his sword arm up. The fight wasn’t over yet. The beast inside him wouldn’t let one deep wound be the end of the match.

  Falcon came at him again, raising his sword high and coming down hard. Aidan lifted his sword one-handed and barely managed to block it, but his opponent wouldn’t let up. His strength was too much. Aidan shook and struggled as the blade edged closer.

  His knees weakened and he fell onto them, kneeling before his opponent. Falcon lifted his blade and went into a clockwise spin. It was one Aidan recognized. Anyone who had ever watched the warrior in battle knew he only used the spin when he was certain his opponent was too weak to fight anymore.

  But he was wrong.

  As Falcon came back around with his sword out and ready to administer a final blow, Aidan ducked his head. Then he kicked his right leg out. His foot hooked at the back of his opponent’s knee. He used the momentum Falcon had already generated to send him tumbling onto his back. He hit the ground with a hard thud.