Dragon's Promise (The Drake's Book 3) (Paranormal Nocturne Romance)

by Denise Lynn

  Their son picked that moment to start throwing a fit. He jerked and twisted around in Caitlin’s arms, screaming until his tear-streaked face was red.

  She was so angry nothing she did soothed him. She wanted to kick Sean for being so foolish and for upsetting her and their son.

  He took the baby from her arms, held him close to his chest and paced at the end of the bed. “I’m sorry, little one, hush. It’s okay.”

  Faster than she thought possible, the cries turned to whimpers then to the sound of soft breathing as he fell asleep against his father’s chest.

  Caitlin stared at the two of them, torn between relief and shock, with a twinge of jealousy and this odd urge to cry from a heart brimming with the warmth of what she knew was love.

  Was that all it took to fall in love? The sight of her son resting so comfortably at ease against Sean’s chest?

  No. There had to be more to it than that. She was just upset and it had her emotions all jumbled.

  “We need a crib.” Sean’s softly spoken statement broke into her thoughts. “Ask one of my brothers.”

  The last thing she wanted to do right now was to ask another Drake male for anything. She focused instead on Braeden’s wife, Alexia. Within a matter of minutes a fully furnished nursery appeared in their bedroom. Complete with a rocking chair that would never get used.

  Sean shook his head. “I said a crib.”

  “So did I.”

  He laid the baby in the crib then came to stand before her. “Caitlin, I will always do what I think best for my family. We’ll talk about it in the morning, when I’m back to my full self. Right now I feel ready to fall on my face.”

  She pushed him gently toward the bed. “Go to sleep.”

  Sean hooked two fingers around her wrist. “Are you coming?”

  “In a minute or two.”

  While he got ready for bed and slipped beneath the covers, she stood at the side of the crib, staring down at their son.

  Unshed tears burned her eyes. Fear as cold and deadly as a vampire’s death bite wrapped around her heart.

  This sacrifice of his could all have been for nothing. If his dragon was unable to vanquish the Learned, they would all soon die.

  She knew his beast was strong and brave. But he was young, so very young, and Nathan had Ascalon.

  She could do nothing except hope for the best. Caitlin choked back a sob, fearing the worst.

  * * *

  Nathan chortled with glee and ran his hands lovingly over the items on his altar. The dragon pendants glowed as brightly as they had centuries ago when they’d been created. And while only blank pages filled the grimoire, he knew that once Aelthed was gone from this plane, the book would work its magic for him.

  He reached out to touch the sword. Ascalon. The only weapon he would ever again require. Nathan lifted his arms toward the ceiling and chanted over the sword, taking the spell from the dragon slayer and gifting it to himself. He stopped only when the raised spine running the length of the blade glowed with an amethyst light.

  Now he had everything he needed to rid the world of the remaining Drakes—the wives and their spawns along with that aunt of theirs. Then his way would be clear to assume complete control of all. Both the human and preternatural worlds would belong to him alone.

  Finally, he would rule in the manner to which he’d been destined—as supreme Hierophant. No other ruler, not a king, emperor or president, would hold as much power as he. His word would be law over them all. Any rights granted would be by his hand alone. All would bow to his whim.

  He fought the urge to sob with exquisite joy. How long had he worked for this very moment? How many endless nights had he dreamed of this success?

  And how many lives had been lost in order for him to realize his goal?

  Drakes and his own sons alike had suffered and in the end he had won, not the Drakes.

  Nathan picked up the wooden puzzle cube he’d manifested so many centuries ago. He held it up to eye level, admiring his handiwork.

  “Well, dearest uncle, the time has finally come for you to go free and be on your way.” He laughed before adding, “Right after I exhume any bit of energy you might have left.”

  With trembling fingers, Nathan worked the cube, moving unseen pieces into place, twisting and flipping bits here, then there, until finally he heard the distinct click of the lock.

  He set the wooden box atop his altar and pressed lightly on the top. “Come, greet me, Uncle Aelthed.”

  The instant he raised his finger, the top sprung up, opening the box to the daylight.

  Nathan stepped back and waved one hand over the now-open box. “Come.”

  A stream of smoke rose from the box. Nathan frowned at the unexpected display. “My, my, Uncle. It seems you have plenty of energy left to provide me.”

  The smoke swirled then took shape.

  Nathan’s legs began to tremble; his heart pounded heavy in his chest. Something wasn’t right. This was not the shape of a man.

  It was the shape of a dragon.

  He blindly reached out to retrieve Ascalon.

  The beast towered over him. Thrashing in rage it knocked down walls. Pillars supporting the floor above crashed to the ground at their feet.

  Roars of anger shook the remaining walls, sending centuries-old stones and bricks crashing down around him, smashing onto the altar, destroying it and all it held.

  Oil and torch material from the wall sconces collided with the lit candles. Flames leaped to ancient wall hangings and rugs, fanning the inferno higher and hotter.

  In one still partially standing corner of the castle, the ghost of the gypsy mage laughed uproariously.

  She shouted over the maelstrom, asking, “Is this the power you sought, wizard?”

  A chunk of stone, large enough to kill a mortal man, tumbled from the ceiling, knocking Nathan down onto the rubble. He reached out to catch himself, releasing Ascalon in his haste.

  The sword clattered across the Great Hall, skipping over cracks in the floor and bouncing over broken hunks of masonry.

  Scrambling for purchase on the shattered floor, he lunged for the sword. It was the only weapon that could defeat the beast threatening his life.

  It wouldn’t require great strength or skill, just one small cut from the blade to bring the dragon down. But first Nathan had to get his hands on the sword.

  He crawled on his hands and knees, but he could already feel the beast’s hot breath rushing against his back.

  One talon hooked into the flesh of his leg, ripping through skin and muscle. A scream tore from Nathan’s throat.

  The instinct to survive pushed him forward. Dragging his useless bloody limb behind, he bolted over a broken statue and wrapped one hand around the hilt of the sword.

  Quickly, before he lost all courage and his life, he flipped over onto his back.

  The dragon clawed at his chest, sharp talons outstretched, intent on nothing less than ending his life.

  Nathan screamed again as the instrument of his certain death found its mark, crushing and tearing the life from his body.

  With his final breath, Nathan the Learned raised the sword, nicking a single scale on the beast’s chest.

  The sword fell from the dead hand holding it and clattered to the floor.

  “Oh, beastie, this is not what I envisioned for you.” The gypsy mage floated out of the shadows, coming to rest before the now-calm dragon.

  She placed her hand on his side, and he looked down at her, a frown of confusion furrowing his brow. Stroking the injured scale, she coaxed, “Come rest with me a while. I’ll not leave you.”

  When he fell heavily to the floor, she sat beside him to offer comfort and encouragement in his final moments. “You were brave and strong, my pet.”

  Chapter 18

  “No!”

  Caitlin struggled to awaken from the nightmare that held her fast in its grip. She knew it was a nightmare, just a dream, but it was like a movie playing over and o
ver in her head that would never end.

  She knelt over Sean lying among the rubble at what could only be the Learned’s castle. He was dead. Killed by her own sword.

  Nathan stood on the other side of the ruined room holding Ascalon. The weapon glowed with a bright line of amethyst, and he laughed.

  His maniacal laugh threatened to drive her mad. Couldn’t he see what he’d done? Didn’t it matter that he’d killed her mate, or that their son was now left without a father?

  Stupid questions. Of course it didn’t matter. That had been his intention all along. He’d only wanted the items he needed to become all powerful.

  Well, now he had them.

  She turned back to Sean’s body and stroked his cheek. He was so pale, so cold.

  Caitlin bowed her head over him and gasped for breath. The pain was unbearable. It was a struggle to breathe, an insurmountable effort to focus, to even think.

  “Wake up, wake up. Not real. Just a dream.”

  The sound of a baby crying dragged her from the clutches of the nightmare. Bolting upright on the bed, Caitlin fumbled around on the nightstand for the bedside lamp. A pale glow lit the room, enabling her to see Sean sleeping next to her on the bed.

  She heaved a sigh of relief then rose to see what was troubling their son. He was dry, and she’d fed him just a few hours earlier, so it wasn’t yet time to eat again. But from the sound of his broken sobs, he was upset about something.

  Caitlin held him close, his warm body plastered to hers, crooning to him in that odd singsong dragon cry. The beast had used it on her, she had used it on Sean and now she sang the song to their son. True to past experience, it performed the same magic.

  Perhaps he’d had a nightmare, too. Or something had frightened him. Regardless, the crooning calmed him, and that was all that mattered. He rested his head against her shoulder, stuck his thumb in his mouth and soon his body went slack in her arms. He’d fallen back to sleep.

  She put him back in his crib and stared down at him. He’d been gone less than two weeks, but it had felt like a lifetime to her. Unable to resist, she traced a finger along his petal-soft cheek. Sometimes she had to touch him to remind herself that he was indeed back where he belonged.

  Gratitude and relief didn’t begin to describe what she still felt about his return. It was more like an overwhelming rush of warmth, of love that wrapped around her when she held him or gently touched him.

  She couldn’t help but wonder if her parents had ever felt this way about her. Had they, at any time in her life, felt any warmth for her?

  “Don’t be silly, child. Of course we did.”

  “Mother?”

  “Right here.”

  Caitlin felt a breeze brush against her arm.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Watching you. Realizing how wrong I’d been.”

  “About what?” Her mother had been wrong about a lot of things. Which one was she talking about?

  “This child. It would be against nature to take him away from you.”

  “It’s not like I was going to let you.”

  “Rest easy, Caitlin Anna Marie St. George, that is not why I’ve come.”

  She rolled her eyes at her mother’s use of her full given name. It was such a time-honored, foolproof way of getting someone’s attention. “Then why have you?”

  Her mother slowly materialized beside her. “I’ve come here to try making amends. I know you aren’t going to spread your arms and welcome me, but I do not like us being estranged. You are my daughter, and I miss you.”

  “All I ever wanted was my son.”

  “And not to be married to Hoffel.”

  Caitlin laughed softly so as not to awaken Sean or little Sean. “Well, that’s not even a consideration anymore. I understand he met with an...accident yesterday.”

  “Yes, we know. The Dragon Lord called to explain.”

  That was nice, especially since no one had yet taken the time to explain what had happened to her. Not that it really mattered; it wasn’t as if his death bothered her in the least. She was mostly just curious. “It was his own fault for working with the Learned.”

  Her mother rested a hand on her arm. “I don’t disagree with you. Neither does your father.”

  “So who does he have in store for me now?”

  “I couldn’t tell you.” Her mother turned her head to cast a brief glance toward the bed. “But I’d say that decision is out of his hands, wouldn’t you?”

  Caitlin shrugged. “We aren’t married.”

  “I see.”

  She doubted if her mother saw anything. But it wasn’t a point she wanted to argue. “What do you mean, you couldn’t tell me?”

  “Your father and I...” Her mother shrugged and looked away. “We aren’t...he’s moved on.”

  “Oh, is that how that works?”

  “Well, darling, I am dead.”

  Really? Her mother was going to split hairs over the degree of dead between a ghost and a vampire? The day had been far too long for this conversation to happen. So Caitlin simply pointed out, “So is he.”

  “Yes, but he has a solid form.” The woman waved a hand down her body. “And I no longer do.”

  Caitlin rubbed her temples.

  “You’ve had a long day. I just wanted to see if you were willing to allow me to make amends—or at least try.”

  “Yes, Mother, of course I’m willing.” What was she going to do? Say no? She was angry at what her parents had done, but as insane as it was, she didn’t hate them. Would never trust them again, but they were her parents.

  “Good. Thank you. I’ll leave you to your sleep.”

  Caitlin waved goodbye then went and sat on the edge of the bed to hold her throbbing head in her hands. She’d thought the sudden pounding was due to her mother’s conversation, but now she wasn’t so certain.

  Her head was threatening to kill her. She was strangely dizzy and sick to her stomach. Something was wrong.

  She reached behind her to pat the bed. “Sean?”

  When he didn’t respond, she leaned back groaning at the stabbing pain in her head and grasped his leg to shake it. She opened her eyes and ran her hand down his leg then spun around.

  “Sean?”

  He was cold—an inhuman sort of cold—more like a corpse than a cold body.

  She scrambled across the bed to his side and shook him. “Sean!”

  This couldn’t be happening.

  “Mother!”

  Instantly, her mother was back at her side. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t wake him.”

  Her mother looked around the room then closed her eyes for a brief second. “He isn’t dead.”

  Caitlin put her ear to his chest and the palm of her hand in front of his lips. “His heart is barely beating, and his breathing isn’t much better.” Worse, his dragon hadn’t yet returned. Without the beast’s strength, whatever ailed him could kill him.

  At that moment her son awoke and started crying. She climbed off the bed to pick up little Sean and waved one hand at her mother. “Get the Dragon Lord. Get someone, now.”

  After the longest few minutes of her life, Braeden, followed by Cameron and their Aunt Danielle, appeared in the bedroom. Her mother was close behind.

  “What’s going on?” Braeden bent over Sean, doing the same things she’d just done.

  The look on his face when he stood up took her breath away. She slid the baby to one hip and grasped the front of Braeden’s shirt with her free hand. “What is happening?”

  Braeden shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

  Another form appeared in the crowd around Sean’s bed. “I think I might know.”

  The Drakes all stared at the newcomer in shock, except for little Sean, who reached out in delight toward Aelthed’s long white beard.

  The old wizard smiled at the child, asking, “May I?”

  Caitlin handed him the baby.

  Danielle kept poking Aelthed’s arm. “H
ow did this happen? When did this happen?”

  Cameron cleared his throat. “Focus, please.”

  “I believe the younger Drake and the dragon figured out a way to separate.”

  Caitlin had already figured that much out, but she kept her mouth shut.

  Braeden groaned. “Not a wise idea.”

  Aelthed nodded in agreement. “Wise or not, it’s the best possible explanation.” He nodded toward Caitlin. “She and Sean released me from my cube. Then he left with it.”

  Before she could get him to shut up, he added, “Along with the dragon pendants, the grimoire and Ascalon.”

  Everyone stared at her.

  “He told me not to say anything. He was certain his plan would work.”

  Braeden fisted his hands at his sides. “And what exactly was his plan?”

  “I don’t know all of it. From what I could gather, he gave Nathan the items he’d demanded, rescuing our son, and at some point the dragon inhabited the cube, intending to kill Nathan.”

  Her mother vanished, only to return right away. “That much of it obviously succeeded. Nathan is dead.”

  “And the dragon?”

  She put a hand on Caitlin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, child, but I don’t think he’ll survive. It was Ascalon.”

  Caitlin slowly sank down onto the edge of the bed. At once, everyone started closing in, offering condolences, telling her how sorry they were and how they’d find someone to help Sean.

  Her head hurt so bad she could barely see. But their noise—their clanging din of noise would drive her insane. “Stop!”

  She reached up to touch the dragon pendant hanging around her neck, rose and took little Sean from Aelthed then turned to Braeden. “Get us there.”

  “But—”

  She glared at him and repeated, “Get us there.”

  He nodded, but added, “You aren’t going alone.”

  “I don’t care.”

  In the next instant, she was standing in the rubble that used to be the Learned’s stronghold, next to the prone body of Sean’s beast. He was still alive; she could see the rise and fall of his chest.

  With her foot she cleared the rubble from a space near his head and sat down, holding her son on her lap. She rested a hand on the beast’s snout. Stroking gently, she crooned to him. The dragon opened his eyes slightly and stared at her then the child.