by Amelia Jade
“Come, let us leave this place,” he said, turning away from the corpse.
The field behind him was empty. She was gone.
Chapter Five
Ana
She was running away. That didn’t bother her; she was used to it. The part that was bugging her now was that she wasn’t entirely sure what she was running away from.
There were so many questions that she wanted answered. Some out of curiosity, some that would help her avoid more trouble in the future, she was sure. But the risk of sticking around was just too high. That Ferrovax, whoever he was, could just as easily end up being trouble like the others were. He hadn’t disclosed his motives for wanting to help her, and the way he had simply expected her to stick around had rubbed her the wrong way as well.
He wasn’t given the chance to explain himself. He was broadsided by the others from the start.
She tried to push the rationality from her brain as she pelted down the road. She had crossed the field, entered the forest, and then ducked back onto the road after a short bit, hoping to put as much distance between her and her pursuers before losing them in the nearby rivers. The pain in her leg wasn’t fading though, and she was worried about what that might mean. Every time her calf came down hard it sent a burst of pain up her leg, warning her of the fact she was still bleeding from it. That was not good. She would have to stop soon to take care of it, but for now, she needed to put more distance between herself and whoever might be following her.
The night was dark, but that didn’t bother her. There was a glimmer of moonlight, and she could see easily enough by its glow. Around her, the woods on either side of the road went silent. The cries of nocturnal hunting animals faded, and the screeching warnings of the other animals died as well.
It happened so swiftly she almost didn’t have time to realize what was going on. Her first real clue was the sudden eclipse of the moon’s glow. The night turned black. Ana tried to dodge to the side, but it was too late.
Large talons as long as her leg wrapped around her body, lifting her from the cobblestone road. As they began to rise, she whipped her hands over her head and exhaled all the air from her lungs while making herself as skinny as possible.
The dragon was caught off guard by her movement and she managed to slip from the talons, tumbling to the ground below. Her awkward fall resulted in numerous scrapes and cuts, and probably several bruises as well. In the grand scheme of everything that day, it was a smooth escape.
Until the talons closed on her once more, this time pinning her to the ground as the massive dragon set down basically on top of her.
“Let me go!” she snapped, struggling to rise.
“This would have gone easier if you had just stuck around,” an amused voice came from the dragon’s throat. “I just wanted to speak with you.”
“Bullshit,” she said angrily. “Nobody ever wants to ‘just speak’ with me. Ever. There is always an ulterior motive or purpose. I don’t know what yours is, but I won’t be a part of it!”
The dragon jerked at the hurt in her voice, recoiling in something like surprise. There was a long period of silence as he considered her statement.
“How do I convince you that I wish to talk?” the dragon said at last.
Ana blinked. “Umm,” she said awkwardly, stalling for time. Nobody had ever seemed that genuinely interested before.
“I want answers,” she told him. “I want to know who you are, what the hell is going on around here, and who those people were that you killed back there.”
The dragon sagged at the reminder of his earlier actions, but his voice lost no strength. “Agreed.”
The pressure around her vanished. She lay facedown for several long moments, listening carefully, trying to figure out if this was some other sort of trap. It didn’t make much sense for him to let her go if he wanted to hurt her, but she hadn’t stayed alive this long by making broad assumptions like that.
Finally she rolled over onto her back. There, standing ten feet or so away from her, was the man she had seen earlier. This was the first time she’d been able to truly see him, besides the glimpse of those stunning eyes of silver-gray. They were there once more, gleaming brightly even in the dark. The eyes reflected the intelligence contained within, but even as she watched, they dimmed.
“How do you do that?” she asked softly, still staring.
“Do what?” He seemed confused, looking around. “Change into a dragon?”
She smiled. “No, I know how you do that. I meant your eyes. A moment ago they were the brightest silver, now they become a gray tinged with brown.”
“Ah,” he said wryly. “That. Sorry, it has been a…while…since I have last shifted. I forgot. As for the answer, I am sorry, I do not know. Something to do with my dragon, I am sure. You have my apologies if I startled you.”
“You didn’t,” she assured him, finally tearing her eyes away to look at the rest of him. “It was beautiful.” She clammed up abruptly, not having meant to be so blunt. A rush of blood stroked her cheeks as embarrassment filtered through her.
A smile caressed his face, pulling at the facial hair he had growing around his lips. The simple goatee worked for him, the dark brown around his lips and chin the perfect contrast between a full beard and clean-shaven. The rest of his face had a day’s worth of stubble on it, and the short hair on his head looked like it could use a trim as well. He obviously kept it cut very close to the skin, though not shaven on top. The smile pulled his teeth apart for a second, revealing rows of pearly whites any celebrity would die for.
He walked closer to her. “I think I should take a look at that,” he said, pointing at her leg.
She scrambled backward, her hasty motion the opposite of the smooth, graceful flow of his steps. He looked like a creature from a story the way he walked. He wore a dark, long-sleeved shirt with three buttons, all of which were done up. It was a form-hugging outfit, revealing his firm core and strong, athletic figure. He wasn’t like a bear shifter, who tended toward big and burly. No, he was more like an impressive professional athlete. Muscle corded his limbs, but it was leaner. Like a martial artist, almost, but with more grace than a world-class ballerina.
“Who are you?” she asked softly.
“Someone who means you no harm, believe it or not,” he told her gently, dropping swiftly to one knee as he looked to her leg.
She flinched inadvertently as his hand wrapped around her ankle, lifting the hurt leg closer to him. He shook his head after a moment.
“There is too much clothing and debris in the way. I need to see better.”
He reached to his thigh and began unstrapping something. With a start, she realized it was a large knife. Ana tried to get away, but he held her firm.
“Hold still,” he said, ignoring her agitation. “I am not going to hurt you.”
“Then what is that for?” she all but yelped, staring at the eight-inch blade he now held.
“To cut your pant leg off. And if you are unlucky, which I think you are, to cut away some infected flesh.”
“What? Infected? I can’t get infections,” she told him firmly.
He gave her a tired smile. “Oh how I wish that were true. Your wound cannot develop an infection on its own, true. But if they used a bolt coated in something, then they certainly could give you an infection. There are few things out there that will work, but there are some,” he explained, “just like drugs. Most of them have no effect, or massive doses are needed. But certain strains of things work just fine.”
His knife quickly removed the form-fitting material, exposing her skin to his touch. Once again, she felt an electric tingle race through her. It wasn’t as strong as when they had joined hands, but there could be no doubt about what she was feeling. There was something there. The dullness in comparison could simply be because of the hole in her leg.
“This is going to hurt,” he said after a moment. “I apologize in advance.”
“Do I want to know?�
� she asked, wincing before he even answered.
“Probably not?” he replied. “I would look away or close your eyes.”
She nodded, tearing her gaze away from the wound as his knife drew closer to it. Instead, she focused on his face, and the intensity of his gaze.
The tingle of his touch was replaced by a blazing ball of fire that seared up her leg. Ana cried out in pain, trying to wrench her leg away. Ferrovax’s grip held firm, however, and she looked down to see what he was doing.
His knife had disappeared partially into her leg. Even as she watched he twisted it. The main redoubled and she saw darkness begin to dim the corners of her eyes. Screams ripped from her throat as he moved the knife again.
“I am sorry,” he said, and she could hear the guilt in his voice, the pain he felt at having to do this to her.
“Just get it done,” she managed to get out, her teeth clenched firmly together.
Sweat broke out on her brow as she fought against the pain, her fingers digging deep into the ground around her. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he removed the blade.
“Oh thank God,” she moaned, sucking in lungfuls of air.
“Now I must really apologize,” he said, grimacing.
“Wait, why do you—”
She didn’t get to finish asking her question. Ferrovax had pulled her onto her side and dug his knife swiftly into the exit hole as well, proceeding to cut away more of the diseased flesh. The pain caught her by surprise and this time she screamed without reservation, unable to prepare herself in time to try and contain some of it. The noise split the night and she hoped there was nobody else around. They would know to come running.
“Almost done,” he whispered soothingly into her ear. It didn’t help with the pain, but the detached, analytical part of her brain, the area that didn’t react to the pain, found that she appreciated him trying.
She rebelled against her body’s attempt to black out, forcing herself to stay awake and bear the pain. She writhed and contorted, but Ferrovax never let go of her ankle, keeping it immobilized while he cut parts of her free.
Finally he stopped.
“No more,” she whimpered. “Please.”
“It is done,” he told her. His face was drawn and she could see some of her own pain reflected in his visage.
It was done. She could feel it. Swiftly her healing began to act, and the pain dulled in a matter of minutes. It was still excruciating—even with the fast healing of a shifter, there was still a hole in her leg—but it was quickly backing down from its near-unbearable levels. In a few minutes, she was able to sit up and take stock of the situation once more, the pain having faded closer to a dull roar in the background.
“You did well,” Ferrovax told her. “I am impressed at your strength.”
“Thanks,” she said, ignoring his questioning look. He wanted to know more about her, about how she had been able to go through what he had just done. Not yet, she thought.
What she couldn’t put from her mind, however, was the way he touched her. His hand was still resting on her exposed leg, though it was now slightly above her knee instead of at her ankle. A warm tingle was slowly spreading from the contact area, overwhelming the painful remnants and making its way up her leg. It gently stoked the fire between her legs to life, leaving her breathing hard once again.
His eyes.
Once again they had turned from a gray-brown to silver, and she watched as they began to brighten. It might have been creepy to some, but she was mesmerized by the sight. She stuck out a free hand, caressing his cheek. The dragon shifter—no, Ferrovax she corrected—flinched at the contact, but he didn’t pull away.
“Let me look at the rest of your injuries,” he said softly.
She nodded, expecting him to look her over. His eyes never strayed from hers. It was his fingers that began to explore her body, pausing at each minor scrape she had accumulated that evening that had yet to heal.
His hand left her thigh, but only to jump to her face, stalling the rush of cold that followed its removal. His fingers gently eased a strand of hair from her face, exposing a cut she had received on her face.
“All of the rest look okay,” he said after leaning in to inspect it.
His lips were right next to her ear now, and his warm breath washed over her, sending a shiver down her spine. Her head turned on its own to look at him again. They were mere inches apart. Their eyes flickered, looking deeply into one another, searching each other out. She wondered what was going to happen next.
It wasn’t long before she found out.
***
The instant his hungry lips found hers it awoke something in her. A deep, vast hunger that she had never before known rose up and enveloped her, guiding her closer to him with unerring precision. Her hands wrapped around his neck, pulling the man she didn’t know closer to her.
What is going on? Why am I doing this?
It wasn’t like her to throw herself out there for men she just met. Not in these circumstances at least. But with Ferrovax, it was like she had always wanted to, but had never before found the right man for her. Now she all but flung herself at him, pulling him in tight to her as their lips pressed against each other fiercely.
His tongue gently pushed apart her lips, and she opened her mouth to meet him, letting him explore her. Her hands roamed across his muscular back as he leaned over her, careful not to disturb her leg.
In the end, it was she who ruined the moment, by forgetting about that same injury. She bumped her leg against the ground and the jolt of pain that shot up her leg hit her brain like a shock of electricity. She pushed him back just far enough that she could look into his eyes again. Even as she watched, the intense glow faded and he returned to normal. The transition made her shiver with barely contained delight, for a reason she could not define.
“Who... what are you?” she whispered. “Wait!” she protested as he pulled away from her. Her hands snapped out, grabbing the collar of his dark shirt and holding him tight.
He gave her an odd look, before relaxing in his efforts to put distance between them.
“I’m not afraid,” she told him. She wasn’t. Confused and unsure, yes. But not afraid. Not of him. “I just don’t understand. So much has happened in the past few hours. I feel like my head is about to explode.” She gave him her best reassuring smile. “I need a few answers.”
He nodded. “Did you want to go find somewhere to stay for the night?”
“I would,” she told him, shrugging her shoulders. “But I don’t think it would be the easiest idea right now.” She glanced knowingly at her leg.
“Right, sorry,” he said, looking slightly ashamed at having forgotten about it so soon.
She patted him lightly on the shoulder. “It’s okay.”
“I know you want some answers,” he began, “but do you mind if I have one first?”
Still amazed at the easy way she was touching him, Ana didn’t reply at first. It was only after he moved his head to put it right in her line of sight that she nodded jerkily. His tone wasn’t serious enough to indicate he wanted some big answers. If he wasn’t going to ask about her and who she was, what was it?
“What is your name?” he asked, looking embarrassed at having waited so long to find out.
She laughed. It was a low chuckle so as not to carry the noise any farther than necessary, but it felt good. Much of the stress of the evening was lifted as well.
“My name is Ana,” she said, not concerned about giving him her shortened name.
“Ana,” he repeated.
Goose bumps broke out down her arms at the sound of her name upon his lips.
“And you are Ferrovax,” she stated, trying to stay focused.
“Ferro, if you please,” he told her. “I prefer a little more informality. All too often there are those who will…go over the top with titles and names. It is wearying,” he explained.
“Who are you?” she asked bluntly. “Your name sounds
so tantalizingly familiar. I feel like I’ve heard it before, but I can’t remember.”
“I would be impressed if you had heard it,” he said gently. “I have not involved myself in the wider world of politics in a long time.”
She snorted. “You’re clearly not a youngling, Ferro, but believe it or not, I’ve been around for a while myself.”
His eyes fixated on her, the silver flaring briefly as the bright orbs bore into her soul. “Yes,” he said slowly. “Yes I do believe you have. Though not as much as I.”
“That’s not the first time I’ve heard that,” she said, though her tone was more hushed at his look. “But I know, or know of, most of your kind who are older than me. I know the names of the Dragon Council, and the two who have perished.”
“Three.”
She looked up sharply. “What?”
“Well, it may be more now. But before the Order revealed themselves, there were fifteen dragons who made up the Council. Do you know the history?”
Ana nodded. She knew it. Fifteen dragons, the First Dragons, had formed the Dragon Council, keeping their brethren in check as their numbers expanded. Over time, two of them had tried to upset the Council, to do things differently. In the end, they had been struck down by the combined might of the rest of the Council.
“Who is the third?” she asked slowly. This was news to her.
“Luthor.”
“When?”
“Less than a month ago,” he stated. “It is why I have come searching for the Council. They let him run rampant, and I needed answers.” He grimaced. “I seem to have found some, though more questions have arisen as well.”
“How did he die?” she asked. It wasn’t every day that a dragon died, let alone one of the First Dragons. With the three more deaths today—and by the sounds of it more in the clash between the Council and the Order—it had not been a good year for dragonkind.
“I killed him.” Ferro’s blunt statement came as a surprise.
“You. You killed him?” she asked skeptically. “Luthor was one of the most powerful dragons in the world,” she explained. “He was one of the oldest members of the Council as well. You don’t just ‘kill him.’”