by Rinelle Grey
Taking a deep breath, she said, “But, Grandfather, what if it’s true? What if the goddess does turn everyone human if I don’t mate with the man she believes I should?”
He stared at her for a few minutes, then shook his head. “I will not change my plan over a silly dream that is nothing more than your girlish wish for some fantasy of fated mates. We don’t have time for this nonsense.” He released her wrist and turned away. “It is a bunch of scratches, nothing more. Now hurry up and get dressed, or we’ll miss the battle.”
He spoke like they were going to a feast.
Wait a minute.
“We?” Wayrian asked nervously.
“Yes,” her grandfather said. “You’re obviously distracted by this dream, and if no one is there to remind you of the seriousness of the situation, you will miss the chance to impress Prince Verrian. I can’t have that. He may notice one of those humans instead. I will have to come with you.”
Come with her? Wayrian’s shoulders slumped. It didn’t matter that she’d given him the information he wanted, he was still going to come. It was on the tip of her tongue to point out that the mark on her wrist couldn’t mean she was supposed to mate with Prince Verrian, because she’d never met him and he wasn’t forbidden in any way.
But she knew that wasn’t going to convince her grandfather.
She had thought that hearing him dismiss the dream would help her to do the same, but it didn’t. Somehow, it only made her more convinced that it had been real. It made her hope she might have a purpose greater than her grandfather’s prejudiced goals. But there was no point in saying that. Once he had his mind made up, nothing would convince him to change it.
She bit back a sigh. “Yes, Grandfather,” she said in a small voice.
She pulled the rest of her clothes on as she followed her grandfather out to the human vehicles, the memory of the dream and its possible meaning pushed aside by a jolt of adrenalin at the fact that she was about to go help defend Prince Verrian as the human woman woke him.
Chapter 2
As soon as Wayrian stepped out of the underground lair, the heat hit her full force. Despite the fact that the sun hadn’t risen far yet, it was already hot enough for an almost instant sweat to form on her brow.
Wayrian barely noticed. She was too busy staring around at the bustle of vehicles, humans, and dragons. There were so many of them. She counted six utes, five with the metal cages on the back, and one without.
The one without a cage must be Chase’s fireworks vehicle. She caught sight of him, his distinctive board-brimmed hat standing out as he bent over the vehicle, double checking the fireworks. Wayrian found her gaze lingering on how his broad shoulders stretched the fabric of the shirt he wore. But when her gaze slipped lower, noting how his tight jeans hugged his buttocks, she caught herself.
What was she doing? Why on earth was she staring at Chase? Yes, he might have turned the tide in this dragon war, but that was no excuse for staring at his butt.
Yet, for some reason, her stomach did a flip flop.
Probably from nerves.
Her grandfather was having no such problems. He marched straight up to Prince Taurian. “I have decided to accompany you,” he announced, his voice indicating that they should all be grateful for his presence. “Which vehicle are we riding in?”
Ever polite, Prince Taurian looked around, then pointed to a ute to his left. “I believe there is room for both of you in Karla’s father’s vehicle.”
He gave Wayrian a kind smile. He was always kind. As perfect as a prince could be.
“You want me to ride with a human?” her grandfather demanded.
“Well, they are the only ones who can drive their vehicles,” Taurian pointed out, his voice amused. “And unfortunately, we can only fit three people per vehicle.”
Her grandfather had to see the sense in that, didn’t he? Wayrian was relieved that he only grumbled a bit before he headed towards the indicated car.
Wayrian climbed into the vehicle, sitting on the bench seat squeezed between her grandfather and Karla’s father, near the front of the cavalcade.
As the car jolted over the rough dirt track, Wayrian twisted around in her seat to see behind them. The column of vehicles spread out in a long line, half obliterated by the dust the mechanical beasts stirred up. Where was the fireworks car?
Why was she so concerned about where it was? It wasn’t like they were going to leave it behind.
“Sit down,” her grandfather ordered. “You’re shaking the whole vehicle.”
Wayrian’s cheeks flamed as she sat back down, not moving. How did her grandfather always manage to embarrass her like that? She stared ahead, not moving.
But her heart wouldn’t stop hammering.
They were on their way. There was no backing out now.
Soon, Lisa would enter Prince Verrian’s Mesmer chamber to wake him, and the rest of them would wait outside to protect them if the Trima clan showed up.
And he was sure to be there. He might have extended a truce towards Rian clan after the last battle, but he’d been clear it only extended to those in the clan, not to the rest of Taurian’s brothers and sisters if they attempted to wake them.
Which, of course, was just what they were about to do.
There were no two ways about it, they were riding directly into a battle. A battle such as the one that had killed her mother. Would the humans’ help mean this battle had a different outcome?
Or would she be the one hit by a bolt of lightning this time? There was every chance she could die in this battle. Didn’t her grandfather realise that?
Wayrian’s stomach rolled in time with the movement of the car, making her feel ill.
She took a shaky breath, trying to calm herself. With the humans’ help, the last battle against Ultrima had been a success. No one could argue that. This one would be too.
She didn’t see Karla’s father’s gun, but she was sure he had it somewhere. The human guns were powerful, a great asset, but they weren’t what had turned the tide in the last battle. The strange metal cages that Chase had made on the back of the vehicles protected them against the Trima dragon’s lightning, and his fireworks had intimidated the flying enemies. That had been the only reason they hadn’t all died in the last fight.
Hopefully they would protect them again this time.
The goddess probably wasn’t impressed. Her complaint against all of them had been that there was too much fighting, and here Wayrian was, on her way to another battle.
Well, actually, they were just going to wake their prince. If the Trima clan attacked them, that was hardly their fault. What did the goddess expect them to do, just let the enemy clan kill them? Let Ultrima try to force himself onto their Princess Sarian again?
Wayrian heaved a sigh and tried not to stare at the marking on her wrist again.
It was all too overwhelming.
She had enough to think of right now, riding into a potential battle against Ultrima.
Somewhere behind her in that same line of cars was Lisa, the woman—a human woman—who had been entrusted with the honour of waking Prince Verrian.
Not that Wayrian was jealous.
No, not one bit. She had had enough dramas with her brief engagement to Taurian. These dragon princes, and their enemies, were more trouble than they were worth.
Marrying a prince was solely her grandfather’s objective. He was the one who said it was important to remind everyone that dragons mated with dragons, not humans. He still hadn’t accepted that Prince Taurian had mated with a human, even though he had stopped publicly protesting. Yet, he was just as determined now as he had been then, sitting beside her with his back straight.
Of course she wanted to help her clan, but why did it have to involve mating a prince? Wayrian had no wish to be a notable person in the clan. She just wanted to live a quiet life.
She almost laughed at that one. Some chance she had of that, when her clan was at war. And that was before thi
s crazy goddess had turned up and made things even more complex.
The vehicle pulled up in front of the rock formation that protected Prince Verrian’s Mesmer chamber. Other vehicles stopped on either side of them
Wayrian’s heart beat a little faster in her chest. This was it. They were here.
There was no going home now. Not until Prince Verrian was safe.
As Wayrian followed her grandfather out of the car and shared a nervous smile with another dragon climbing out of the car next to her, the feeling of camaraderie, of sharing this danger with someone else, all working together towards a greater good, felt surprisingly good.
She’d never done anything like this before. All her grandfather’s previous plans had been in the background, when they were safe in the lair. But being here, seeing her people’s history being written…
This was kind of cool.
“Get over closer to the chamber,” her grandfather hissed, shoving her towards where Taurian was leading Lisa into the shade of a rocky ledge. “You need to be well positioned to catch Prince Verrian’s attention when he emerges.”
Suddenly, this didn’t feel so good after all.
If this was meant to be, surely they didn’t need to force it? Wayrian wasn’t interested in someone she had to coerce into mating with her. If she ever mated, she wanted it to be because both of them wanted it more than anything.
Fat chance of that with her grandfather around.
There were advantages to being closer though. She was close enough to Taurian to see him hand Lisa the medallion that would open Prince Verrian’s Mesmer chamber, and she couldn’t help feeling a tingle of excitement as she watched.
It must feel special, to be chosen to wake one of the princes. Special, and a little nerve wracking, especially as…
“Ultrima’s here!”
Karla’s voice rang out, echoing off the rock, sending Wayrian’s heartbeat into overdrive.
She looked around in a panic, but her grandfather’s determination to be close to the Mesmer chamber had pushed her away from the ute she had come here in. Away from the only safe places to be in this fight—the cages on the back of the utes.
They may look flimsy and full of holes, but the last battle had proved that Chase’s idea worked. The metal of the cages dissipated the electricity from the Trima clan’s lightning safely away from anyone within them.
But only when you were inside.
Wayrian needed to make a run for them, but fear had her heart in such a tight grip, she couldn’t make her legs move. Logically, she knew that the cages were safer, but she had to cross open ground to get there.
Why had she let her grandfather talk her into coming here? She wasn’t a fighter. She was a water dragon. Water dragons didn’t fight, they simply stood their ground and refused to move until their adversaries gave up. That’s what her father had always said.
But she didn’t have time for that now. The silver forms of lighting dragons dotted the air above her. Any minute, one of them would attack. If she wasn’t ready to fight, she’d die. So Wayrian tried to gather up her power, searching for any water in the surrounding area. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t focus.
Ultrima’s battle screech split the air, raising every hair on her head. Any exhilaration she’d felt earlier disappeared under a wave of pure fear. She wanted to run and hide, as far away from this battle as she could.
“Quick, over here,” her grandfather scrambled into the back of the nearest ute and beckoned to her.
Wayrian couldn’t make her legs move, no matter how much she tried. Far from its racing earlier, her heartbeat seemed to have slowed, as though it were already giving up the fight. Already accepting that she was going to die.
So much for the goddess’s plan. She couldn’t mate with anyone if she’d been burned to a crisp by dragon lightning. Allendra should have chosen someone with more spunk.
“Move.” Chase appeared beside her, his hand grabbing her elbow and half pushing, half lifting her towards the nearest cage.
Somehow, his presence pushed the fear away, as if some warmth from his hand thawed the terror that had frozen her. Wayrian stumbled into the cage, crawling as far forwards as she could as Chase climbed in behind her.
As he pulled the cage door closed behind him, a bolt of lightning hit them square on.
Wayrian couldn’t help it. A scream erupted from her throat, and she threw herself down onto the rubber mat on the floor of the ute, her hands over her head.
A few seconds later, before she’d even had time to take in the fact that she was still alive, a loud boom filled the air, blasting her eardrums.
Her ears were still ringing as she looked up, seeing the explosion above them, colour raining down.
The beautiful display was at odds with the terrifying battle they’d been thrown into.
The image exploded into Wayrian’s mind, instantly taking her back to the dream. She held up her wrist, opening one eye in a squint to compare the two.
The mark on her wrist, the one she’d thought was a flower, was one of Chase’s weapons.
She was too stunned to even hear her grandfather’s scream for her to get up and join in the battle.
Fireworks, Karla had called them. She said they were part of a celebration among her people, but they made dragons nervous. Wayrian could understand why. The sound they made was loud and low, and it reverberated through her whole body, setting her pulse racing.
If they hit, they’d bring a full grown dragon down with ease. Dragon scales and hide might be tough enough to protect them, but their wings were vulnerable, every dragon knew that. The injuries from a fall would be enough to take them out of the battle.
This one hadn’t hit anyone though.
It’s crazy, beautiful pattern of sparkling light added to the madness of the fight.
What did it mean? How did the strange pattern indicate her fated mate? Was it one of the Trima dragons? Perhaps if one of them were hit and injured, but not killed, she would volunteer to complete the Mesmer ritual with them and somehow fall in love?
Somehow, she couldn’t see that happening. Her grandfather might say Taurian was foolish for sending the injured dragons home to heal instead of killing them in the last battle, but he wasn’t benevolent enough to let one of their own heal a Trima dragon.
So who was her fated mate? Not knowing was driving her crazy.
Her eyes were drawn to Chase. He stood next to her in the cage, staring up at the sky. From her spot cowering on the floor, Wayrian had a clear view of his bronzed profile, and her breath caught in her throat.
He was a hero. He had almost single handedly saved them from the Trima dragons last time. And he looked like he would do the same this time.
His fingers moved dexterously on the device in his hands, controlling his deadly fireworks.
His fireworks.
He was the one.
Her destined mate wasn’t one of the Trima dragons.
It was Chase.
More fireworks exploded above his head, framing his face with their brilliant colour. Wayrian’s heartbeat sped up, but not from fear this time. Her whole body flushed with an exhilarating warmth. She couldn’t imagine anyone better. Her fated mate wasn’t an enemy. He wasn’t some unknown dragon from her own clan.
He was someone who did great things. Someone she could admire. Someone she could see herself loving.
If only.
Wayrian bit back a crazy, panicked laugh as the impossibility of the situation hit her.
The idea of mating with a human might seem easy when compared to mating one of the enemy clan.
Wayrian knew it would be anything but.
Her grandfather’s objections to Chase would be even greater than to an unknown dragon, or, she suspected, even their enemy. Not only was he determined she was going to marry a prince, but he was convinced that the humans were the cause of everything that had gone wrong for the dragons, including this battle.
He still ma
intained that Prince Taurian mating with the human woman Karla, would cause the destruction of their clan.
He still thought it would have been better if the prince had mated with her.
Nothing, not even the warnings from the goddess (if Wayrian could convince him of their legitimacy, which she was doubtful of) would change his mind. And she couldn’t possibly mate with Chase against her grandfather’s objections.
A wild, crazy panic raced through her, and for a moment, Wayrian thought it was caused by the thought of defying her grandfather and the elders, but this fear surpassed even that. She felt as though Ultrima was on top of her, his claws and teeth about to rip into her.
In fact, she looked up to see if he was.
But the sky above her was clear.
She wasn’t the only one panicking. Her grandfather ducked down in the back of the ute beside her, his arms above his head.
Wayrian forced herself to take a deep breath. The panic might feel real, but without a cause, there was only one thing it could be.
Life dragon magic.
Unlike the other dragons, whose magic was physical and obvious, life dragons could affect a person’s very thoughts. They were far more dangerous than any other dragon.
And Ultrima had one and Rian clan didn’t.
Wayrian had felt their powers, the fear they could create, in the last battle with Ultrima. Even though she hadn’t been directly fighting, it had been a struggle to resist the urge to run into the lair and hide.
This time she couldn’t run. She was stuck inside the cage with her grandfather and Chase, with no way out. And she was already cowering on the ground.
She bit back a laugh. She might have worried that her grandfather would have a fit. He had, after all, told her to do something spectacular, to impress the prince. But he hadn’t so much as moved from his crouch, as though afraid that lightning would hit him if he looked up.
The only one in the ute who wasn’t in a flat panic was Chase.
Wayrian watched him out of the corner of her eye, her heart fluttering in her chest. How had she not realised how brave and skilled he was earlier? Had she been too influenced by her grandfather’s hatred of all things human?