Dragon's First Rule (Dragons of Midnight Book 1)

by Silver Milan

  A part of Jett wished he still could summon compulsion with the collar, but he knew he wouldn’t have used the Ability against Cliff anyway. As King, he had never used compulsion in negotiations with other dragons or shifters. He didn’t allow himself, because it wasn’t right. He always believed it must be used for the good of others and not personal gain. When he had used it on Ariel when she first set foot in his domain, for example, he had done so only for her protection: to prevent her from running back into the hands of the lions.

  Though maybe in a matter as important as this, the moral issues regarding the use of compulsion could be set aside.

  He fingered the collar. Well, that was a moot point anyway, considering the limits on his power. Still, it was troubling he was even considering setting aside some of his beliefs for her.

  It showed how important she was to him.

  He reached the Alpha’s cabin and climbed the steps to the porch. His footsteps creaked on the planks as he crossed to the door. Then he knocked.

  “Come in, it’s open,” Cliff called from within. His voice sounded angry. Not surprising.

  Jett shoved the door aside and stepped in.

  Cliff was sitting in the kitchen. Beside him was Teri. Her eyes were red as if she’d been crying.

  Fear gripped Jett’s heart. His gaze darted to the window, toward Ariel’s cabin outside. Nothing seemed amiss, at least from here. And yet Teri’s eyes...

  He spun on the Alpha. When Jett spoke, his voice was little more than a growl. “What have you done, Lion?”

  He was going to tear Cliff limb from limb. He was going splash him with fire, sear him to the bone. He was—

  “I didn’t touch her, Dragon,” Cliff said. He tossed him his smartphone.

  Jett caught it easily. “What—”

  “Ariel continued to go on excursions after you left,” Cliff said. “Taking random paths in lion form through the woods, to random destinations. Always well within the hunting range allowed during lockdown, of course. But this morning, she and her two escorts didn’t return from their ranging. Shortly after, I found a note in my email from a bogus return address.”

  Filled with dread, Jett glanced at the phone. A message was plainly displayed.

  We will trade the lions for the dragon.

  Jett quickly set down the phone on the table before he dropped it. Or smashed it.

  Rage boiled Jett’s blood. Rage, and sheer helplessness. He swallowed several times. Opened and closed his fists.

  This was partially his fault. He had recalled Flame and Brazen early this morning. They wouldn’t have been shadowing Ariel and her escorts, as he had instructed them to do on all previous occasions. She would have been vulnerable.

  He shut his eyes, taking several deep breaths, and calmed himself enough to siphon his anger and anguish into coming up with a rescue plan.

  Ideas flowed unbidden through his mind. Some he dismissed altogether. Others he tucked away for further contemplation. He wondered if the Orions had already captured the vampire they were pursuing. They must have if they were diverting their attention to the shifters. Either that, or the vampire had gotten away, and when they had caught wind of a dragon among the shifters, they’d decided to focus all of their energies on Jett instead.

  He considered involving his people: he could bring an army down on these Orions. While Jett was no longer king, his brother would leap at the chance to show off his prowess in battle, not to mention his decisive leadership, by crushing a group of hunters lounging in territories the dragons had promised to protect. But if Jett called in the dragons, there was a good chance Ariel would die in the resulting chaos of battle, especially with his brother in command. When dragons warred, they did so with complete abandon, bathing the land with fire in their bloodlust, risking discovery by any nearby humans in the process. No, involving the dragons was not a good idea.

  But perhaps a small group of his White Swords could make a difference. Flame and Brazen had already hinted they would come to his aid. But no, he couldn’t ask them to undermine the authority of his brother, not this early in Gabriel’s reign. If they did so, they would never be able to return. Besides, there was no use having the two White Swords present unless Jett intended to storm the Orion camp with guns blazing—he had already decided the risk of such an action was too great to Ariel.

  Unfortunately, Jett quickly realized the safest option, the one recourse that would ensure Ariel was released unharmed, required Jett to surrender to the Orions, giving himself up so that Ariel and the others could go free.

  Assuming of course that the Orions actually lived up to their end of the bargain. But what choice did he have?

  He didn’t want to die. Didn’t want to leave this world behind.

  But if that was what it took to save her…

  Jett conferred with Cliff on the matter.

  “You would give up your life to save my three lions?” Cliff asked.

  Jett nodded. Though there was only one lion he cared about saving...

  “Perhaps I was wrong about you,” Cliff said quietly. “But you realize, don’t you, that I can’t let you do it? When have the Orions ever lived up to their end of a bargain? You seriously think they’re going to give up three shifters once you hand yourself over to them? You might be a man of honor, but they are not.”

  “Perhaps you’re right,” Jett said.

  Together, the two of them continued their discussions, and came up with a workable alternative in case the Orions betrayed Jett. It involved some risk to Ariel’s life, but there was nothing Jett could do about that.

  A few hours later, Jett found himself walking alone through the woods, using his phone to head toward the coordinates the Orions had included with their original message. His muscles tensed at every breaking twig he heard in the forest, every scamper of animal feet picked up by his sensitive ears.

  He knew he was growing near when the birdcalls in the forest grew silent. He wasn’t exactly sure what that portended about Ariel’s captors, but it couldn’t be anything good. He scanned the trees, searching for ambushers, but never spotted anyone.

  The coordinates led him to a clearing filled with tents. He counted thirty of them. Assuming they all harbored at least one Orion, that was a bit more than the five hunters Cliff had originally reported. There were otherwise no signs of life.

  Jett considered announcing himself, but he knew the hunters were watching him even then. He advanced cautiously through the portable shelters, scanning them and the trees beyond. Still he saw no one.

  And then he saw her. On the far side of the clearing, wearing shackles whose ends were pegged to the ground, Ariel’s naked body lay on the grass, along with two other men he recognized from Blue Hurricane, also naked and manacled.

  Jett gritted his teeth in outrage at her cruel treatment. She wasn’t some animal to be chained down. She was a person. Someone very important to him.

  He could barely see for the sudden red that filled his vision.

  Someone’s going to pay for this.

  He focused on Ariel, and was about to run to her when he felt an invisible vise seal around him, squeezing his arms against his sides and pressing firmly into his chest so that he had trouble breathing. He was lifted a half inch off the ground so his feet swung helplessly in the air.

  Jett didn’t have the ability to see the Strength, but he knew a powerful Weave made of strands of Air bound him. In his dragon form, those strands would have fallen away upon contact, but he couldn’t escape them as a man.

  Curse this collar!

  Men emerged from the trees. They wore black SWAT-like uniforms with helmets. Bulletproof vests bulged on their chests, the anti-ballistic plates obvious underneath. Painted onto their helmets and chests were the white stars of the constellation Orion.

  They carried military-grade assault rifles. All of them were pointed directly at Jett.

  Though they were obviously Orions, they didn’t smell like any hunters Jett had ever met. Their re
dolence was sweet yet sour, both pleasant and repugnant; it tugged at something in the vast vault of his memories, but he couldn’t quite place it. One thing he knew: it wasn’t good.

  A woman among them stepped forward. Ample sunlight funneled down into the clearing from above, but she fastidiously avoided it, Jett noted, keeping strictly to the shade along the periphery.

  She was dressed in black like the others, though she did not wear a bulletproof vest or helmet, as if such accouterments were beneath her. Her clothes were form-fitting, accentuating her figure; the fabric of her top had a circular bite taken out just below the throat, exposing the skin there, though it revealed no cleavage. Two intricately designed bone gauntlets were secured over her forearms, reaching from wrists to elbows. Among the designs embossed into each one, Jett recognized the shapes of wood nymphs, though their faces were twisted into grotesque mockeries. The woman wore a matching bone tiara on her head, and her ebony hair fell in a bob that ended just above the shoulders. A long black cape reached to the heels of her boots.

  So this was the Orion witch Finn had spoken of.

  The woman continued to advance, her lips upturning into a sneer as she walked right up to him.

  Jett had rolled up his sleeves before coming into the camp, and when the witch glanced at his dragon tattoos, she stepped backward involuntarily, inhaling in a hiss.

  “Dragon king!” she said.

  Jett smiled grimly, baring his teeth. “You’ve got me.”

  “See?” A man dressed differently from the others came forward. He wore a T-shirt that showed off his ample biceps and ripped jeans. He was roguishly handsome and had a cocky air about him. Jett knew who he was immediately from the pictures Cliff had shared. And Jett hated him.

  He felt his dragon going wild inside him, and if he didn’t have the collar holding his beast in, Jett would have transformed and breathed fiery death down on the man right then. Probably a good thing he was collared, since that would’ve ruined the prolonged suffering Jett had in mind for the bastard.

  “Would Logan ever do you wrong?” the man continued.

  “It wasn’t supposed to be the king himself!” the witch said. “The other dragons will come looking for him.”

  “Will they?” Logan said. “I don’t know about that. But I guess you should perform your ritual quickly, then. Chop chop. And look, he’s wearing a collar, just like I promised you.”

  The witch rubbed her forehead as if regretting ever trusting the man. But when she lowered her hand, her expression had transformed entirely, the distress replaced by greed. “This might prove advantageous after all.”

  She beckoned with one arm and Jett floated toward the far edge of the camp, where the prisoners were waiting.

  Ariel was sitting up by then, and she watched him approach, her features a mixture of emotions: happiness, fear, and something else. Regret?

  When he reached them, the armed men surrounded Jett, keeping their weapons trained on him as if he would transform into a raging dragon at any moment.

  “I’m sorry,” Ariel said quietly.

  Two of the Orions came forward, carrying shackles. One of them secured a thick metal band around his neck; it was somewhat loose, and sat below the existing collar he wore. Another secured his feet and staked the chains into the ground beside Ariel.

  On cue the invisible binds fell away and Jett dropped to the grass. His arms were released from his sides but then another invisible force extended each limb outward so that he was spreadeagled; two Orions immediately closed a pair of shackles over his forearms and retreated. The hidden Weaves fell away a moment later, leaving only the shackles to bind him.

  The remaining Orions lowered their rifles and melted into the camp. Two hunters remained behind, guarding him.

  “My poor dragon,” Ariel said. “Forgive me.”

  “Not your fault.” Jett crawled to his knees and glanced questioningly at the human witch, who stood within the tent line, but she had turned her back on him to confer quietly with some of her men.

  “When are you going to release the lions, as part of our deal?” Jett called to her. She didn’t respond. “Witch, answer me!”

  But the woman continued to ignore him.

  Cliff had been right to suspect treachery on the part of the Orions, of course.

  “So they betray us after all,” Jett muttered.

  “You shouldn’t have come,” Ariel said. She reached out and gripped his hand, as if somehow his touch alone could save her.

  “I had to,” Jett said, squeezing her fingers tightly. “If there was any chance I could set you free, I had to take it.”

  She shook her head and leaned forward to speak softly. “I want to tell you something, while I still have the chance.”

  He looked deeply into her eyes. “What?”

  She opened her mouth, but then averted her gaze. “I... I...” She swallowed visibly.

  He tightened his grip. “Tell me.”

  Finally she looked up and said bravely: “I... care about you.” She seemed disappointed by the words that had come out.

  “I care about you, too,” Jett said quietly. He wanted to say more, but like her he found the words difficult. This didn’t seem the time. It was a private thing. Not something to be announced to the world. But then again, why not? Why did he care who knew?

  Because his feelings for her could be used against him.

  He glanced at the two guards. One of them was staring at Jett’s hand, as if contemplating what must seem a startling revelation to him: the dragon king had entwined his fingers around the hand of a female shifter.

  Jett extricated himself from her grasp. He considered holding the hands of the two male lions with him, if only to confuse the guards, but decided it was probably too late. His affection for Ariel was obvious by that point.

  “How did Logan know I was in your camp?” Jett asked one of the naked lions beside him. The man’s named was Jayden.

  “The memory card in one of the hidden cameras we operate in the area was reported missing,” Jayden said. “My guess is Logan stole it. You must have been on the recording.”

  Jett nodded slowly. That made some sense. If Jett had been recorded with his sleeves rolled up, Logan would have recognized the tribal tattoos identifying him as a dragon. But Logan hadn’t been able to determine that Jett was king, apparently.

  “Why didn’t Cliff tell me about this?” Jett asked.

  Jayden shrugged. “You can’t expect him to reveal all the pride’s secrets.”

  “He didn’t want me to know you had your own security cameras, did he?” Jett said.

  Again, Jayden shrugged. “By the way, Logan’s the only one who smells normal in this crowd. The rest… they all smell funny, do you notice that?”

  “Yes,” Jett said. He considered telling the lions what he suspected, but decided it would only scare them. They were frightened enough as it was.

  Jett tested the restraints, but they proved unbreakable. They must have been Strength-infused. His dragon form would have had no problem with them, but as things stood, he wasn’t going anywhere soon.

  He tried to wrap his hands around the peg securing the shackles to the ground, but his fingers slid away before touching it. The witch had tied off a Weave of Air around it, no doubt, preventing him from gripping it.

  A man waltzed through the tents, approaching the prisoners as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He was humming softly to himself.

  Jett bit down his rage.

  It was Logan.

  24

  “My my, what big eyes you have.”

  Ariel watched as Logan approached, feeling anger, fear, and revulsion vying for dominance within her. The lioness inside her growled, and the sound emerged clearly from her throat. If she didn’t have all of these weeks of training under her belt, the beast would have leaped out in that moment and fought against the chains in an attempt to maul the man. It would have been futile of course, since earlier she had already let her beas
t yank at those binds until she collapsed in exhaustion. She still had red marks on her wrists where the shackles had dug into her skin during her struggles.

  Logan stopped just beyond the reach of her restraints. The half-healed claw marks on his right cheek no doubt reminded him of what had happened the last time he had gotten too close to her.

  He knelt so that his head was on the same level as hers and licked his lips. Ariel wrapped an arm in front of her chest to cover her naked breasts, and tilted her hips away.

  “That’s right, try to hide from me,” Logan said. “It won’t do you no good. When the witch is done with your dragon, she’s promised me I get to have you. I’m so looking forward to breaking you. You should’ve just given in that first time. You would’ve saved us both all this trouble. And now a dragon has to bleed because of you.” He lifted his hand to scratch the area around his clawed cheek. “Damn, this itches like hell. You’re going to pay for everything you’ve done to me, bitch, including this latest scratch. I’m going to teach you some respect.”

  Jett abruptly strained against his binds, lunging for Logan. His hands halted a mere inch from Logan’s neck.

  “Well hello, Mr. Dragon,” Logan said. He hadn’t even flinched. “Nice to make the acquaintance. Though I guess I should be calling you king. You’re quite the fish out of water, ain’t ya? I’m looking forward to hearing you squeal like a little girl when the witch takes you. Alphas always scream the loudest. A king will no doubt scream the loudest of them all. You’ll show your lady friend here what you’re really made of.”

  “You talk as if you’ve helped this witch take down an Alpha before,” Jett said.

  Logan shrugged. “I showed her a pride to the south she could practice on. The Proudmanes. Let’s just say, they’re not so proud anymore. Just like you won’t be when she’s done with you. I have to admit, I was expecting someone a bit more imposing to be king. But you, you’re just so underwhelming. And you dress like a girl.”

  Ariel couldn’t take it anymore. Insulting her was one thing. But insulting her precious dragon?

  She transformed into her lioness. Her neck expanded, filling up the collar at her throat; it was too tight and dug into her flesh; the shackles around her wrists and ankles were just as bad, cutting into her enlarged fore and back legs. Nonetheless, she gathered all her strength and launched herself at the man who had done this to her.