Firestorm: Volume 3
Page 6
Rhys and the other man walked around to look at the bone. “A human did this,” Rhys said.
“And kept the body where?” Dmitri asked in frustration. “I searched all of the isles.”
Faith ached for the dragon and the pain he must have endured, but she also felt Dmitri’s heartache. This had been done on purpose to one of his dragons, a dragon he was supposed to protect from the humans.
From her kind.
“Kiril, you’re quiet,” Rhys said.
Kiril moved next to Faith and peered closely at the bone. “One clean, downward plunge of a blade.”
“Someone was on top of him,” Dmitri said.
“Aye,” Kiril said with a nod. “Did any of your Whites trust a human that much?”
Dmitri snorted. “Never.”
She was trying to piece together the story that Dmitri told her with everything she was learning about the dragons. Something didn’t quite fit.
“How long did it take to get the dragons out of this realm?” she asked.
The three men looked at each other before Dmitri said, “Days. Why?”
“What dragons were called first?”
“The Silvers, then Con’s Golds.”
“As I suspected.” She gazed at the dragon, trying to put herself back in that time. “Tell me again about that day.”
Rhys said, “Utter chaos.”
“Hysteria,” Kiril added.
There was movement beside her as Dmitri sidled closer. “Anger. There was lots of anger from dragons and humans. And Kings,” he added. “We were all working hard to use our magic to create the bridge and try to protect the dragons.”
“A fucking impossible task,” Rhys mumbled.
Kiril made a sound. “I can still see all of our dead.”
“There were so many dragons,” Dmitri continued. “They couldna all go over at the same time. I’ve never felt anything drain my magic as I did holding open the dragon bridge.”
Rhys said, “After each of our dragons went over, we would leave to go search our area for stragglers.”
“Or those too wounded to fly on their own,” Kiril added.
Rhys nodded slowly. “It was up to each King to get the remaining ones to the bridge.”
Dmitri’s fingers linked with Faith’s. “With every day that passed, and as more dragons left this realm, the humans became bolder. When we couldn’t reach the weak, old, or young in time, the mortals killed them. Black smoke filled the air as the humans burned anything we had built, whether it was for them or us. They wanted nothing to do with dragons.
“My ears rang from the shouts of humans and the roars of dragons. The mortals were frenzied, animalistic as they rushed upon dragons as a group.”
Kiril looked down at the ground. “I saw such an incident. It was with one of my Burnt Oranges. I was hurrying to them. It was a young family. The baby was only a few months old. The mother was shielding her child, trying to coax it into the air when the humans saw them. The father stayed back to give his wife and child time to leave. By the time I reached them, the father was dead, but I got his wife and baby across the bridge.”
Faith felt tears fall onto her cheeks. She’d asked for more information, and they were giving it to her in graphic detail.
“I was one of the last to check my area. The isles were isolated with verra few humans. I thought my Whites were safe from such harm,” Dmitri said.
She turned her head to him, sniffing. Once the tears began, she couldn’t stop them. She hurt for each of the Kings and all they and their dragons had endured.
“I was wrong,” Dmitri stated. “Someone intentionally wounded this dragon so he couldna leave.”
“But why? They didna tear him apart or burn him like the others.” Rhys said.
Dmitri’s face hardened. “That’s a good question.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Dmitri was outraged at what they’d discovered. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that someone would harm a dragon in such a way and leave it to slowly die.
That wasn’t the murderous rage he’d witnessed during the war. This was something malicious and vindictive. This was someone who wanted to hurt a dragon—and him. It was the only explanation.
And it enraged him.
“Easy,” Kiril said.
He lifted his gaze to Kiril. “Doona tell me to calm down. This wasna done to your dragons.”
“He sees what I do,” Rhys said in a calming tone.
Dmitri knew that tone. It was the one he used on those who couldn’t control their anger. And it only pissed Dmitri off more.
“You have that same murderous look we saw in Ulrik’s eyes right before he started the war,” Rhys said.
Dmitri released Faith’s hand and paced. He had to free some of the pent-up energy and anger because he felt like he might explode.
Kiril moved to block him. “You’ve never let your anger control you like this before.”
“I know!” Dmitri bellowed, his muscles straining from the force of the violence within him. “I can no’ contain it.”
Nor did he want to.
It felt good to finally give in to the rage and resentment. He’d hidden it for so long, burying it along with his true nature of being a dragon.
And for what? To live out his days in a world that hated him.
“No’ everyone hates us,” Rhys said.
Dmitri looked up. Had he said those words aloud? He didn’t even care anymore. The rage swallowed him until everything he saw was red.
Blood red.
The blood of the dragons that had covered this earth, slaughtered by the impudent, spiteful humans.
He growled. The mortals needed to die. They had done enough to the realm. And the dragons had given enough.
Suddenly, there was a shape before him. Soft hands touched his face. “I don’t hate you, Muscles. In fact, I like you quite a lot.”
“Faith,” Kiril said in warning.
Dmitri growled again, this time directing it at Kiril. How dare his friend talk to Faith that way. Then it hit him. Faith. It was her hands on his face, her voice he heard.
He blinked, and the red faded away. As her face came into focus, he saw her spiked lashes and watery smile. What had just happened?
“Is it you?” she asked, her forehead furrowed.
He nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. “Aye.”
“Good,” Rhys stated, pleased. “Then tell us what the fuck just happened?”
Dmitri shrugged, his mind feeling as if it were shrouded in fog. Faith remained near him, even though she’d dropped her hands from his face. He sought her hand, and she eagerly accepted his.
“I doona know. Suddenly, I was filled with such rage that I wanted to kill,” he said.
Kiril raised a brow. “Kill who?”
“Humans.”
“This sounds like Ulrik,” Rhys said.
Kiril crossed his arms over his chest. “For a moment there, he even looked like Ulrik.”
“Do you think this was Ulrik’s doing somehow?” Faith asked.
Dmitri shook his head. “There’s no way. We bound his magic right after sending his Silvers across the dragon bridge.”
“Who else could’ve done this?”
Rhys said, “A Druid.”
“What happened to your dragon is appalling,” Kiril said. “But it was thousands of years ago. Even if we manage to figure out who did it, we can do nothing. Those responsible are long gone.”
Dmitri couldn’t take his eyes off the bones. “I need to know. I have to know.”
“That might prove impossible unless you know someone who can time travel,” Kiril said.
Rhys snorted. “And if you do find someone, I know a couple of other things I’d like to change, as well.”
“Aye,” Kiril replied in a soft voice.
Dmitri released a breath and stepped back until he ran into the wall. Then he slowly slid down until he was sitting. All the while, Faith kept hold of his hand.
It was too much to bear. The weight of what had occurred kept pushing him under the waves of remorse, drowning him again and again for forsaking one of his clan.
Faith squatted beside him and looked into his eyes. “You did everything you could.”
“No’ enough.”
“You said you searched every cave on those isles twice. He wasn’t on land, in the water, or in the caves. You would’ve found him otherwise.”
She had a point, but it left one glaring question. Dmitri looked at each of those in the cavern. “Then how did the bones get into that cave?”
No one had an answer, which only made matters worse the longer he thought about it. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. A human had killed one of his dragons by severing his spine.
The other blade marks on the bones showed more wounds, but what about the ones that hadn’t left evidence? The ones that went through scale and muscle.
His anger built rapidly, rising up and encasing him in a feral need for retribution. He heard a scream. The sound was music to his ears.
That’s what the humans had sounded like when Ulrik attacked them. It was the sound that would soon fill the air again once he began the slaughter of all those responsible for ruining his life.
Something struck his jaw, whipping his head back against the rock. He felt his head split open and blood run down his neck.
“Dmitri!” someone bellowed.
But he was too caught up in how he was going to wake the Silvers and begin to cleanse the earth of the disgusting mortals.
He tried to get to his feet. There was another hit to his jaw, and then another. He laughed at the screaming that filled the cavern. The humans had once feared them.
And they would again.
It was time the mortals remembered whose land this was—and who ruled it. It was time they were shown the power and might of the Dragon Kings!
As if through a haze, he felt his wrist being broken. But he didn’t care. It was already healing. The puny humans deserved the vicious end that was coming to them.
Dmitri felt himself lifted before he was tossed across the cavern into the opposite wall. His head slammed against the floor when he fell to the ground.
He blinked, shaking off the pain. The next second, someone had him by the throat and lifted him into the air. He grabbed the arm that was choking him.
And looked into cold, black eyes.
“Con?” he managed as he heard his larynx begin to break.
A final squeeze from Con crushed it. Dmitri choked even as his body began the healing process. He didn’t understand why Con was attacking him, but he was going to find out.
No sooner had his trachea healed than Con crushed it a second time.
“Get. Yourself. Under. Control,” Con bit out.
Control? Dmitri wanted to laugh. For the first time in eons, he felt as if he finally understood what he was supposed to do. He kicked out, trying to get out of Con’s grip, but Con wasn’t the King of Kings for nothing. He crushed Dmitri’s windpipe a third time and let loose a growl loud and long enough to quiet the entire mountain.
But Dmitri was also a King.
He knocked Con’s arm away, kicking him in the chest at the same time. Con fell backwards, rolling over his shoulder and coming up on his feet.
Dmitri landed on bent knees and glared at Con. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Me?” Con asked, his black eyes going frigid. “Perhaps you should ask yourself that.”
Why weren’t Rhys or Kiril saying anything? Rhys used every opportunity he could to irritate Con. Dmitri glanced to the side and saw Rhys and Kiril with their backs to him, kneeling beside something.
Then he recognized the boots attached to the unmoving legs.
“Faith.”
“So you remember her,” Con said sarcastically.
He jerked his head to Con. “Of course, I do.”
“You didna a moment ago.”
Dmitri straightened, confused. “That’s no’ possible.”
“I assure you, it is.”
He heard a sniff. Was Faith crying? Just because he didn’t remember who she was? Well, that was worrying for him, but it was nothing to get upset over.
“Con,” Rhys called.
Without hesitation, Con pivoted and walked to the trio. Dmitri made to follow, and Kiril immediately rose and turned to stop him.
“I think it’s better if you keep some distance.”
He frowned at Kiril. “What? I brought Faith here to protect her. I kept her safe on Fair.”
But Kiril didn’t budge.
Dmitri looked around his shoulder and saw Con lay his hand on her. Con was healing her! The thought went through him as searing as lightning.
“What happened?” he demanded of Kiril. “How was she hurt?” When his friend didn’t answer, Dmitri shouted, “Tell me!”
Kiril leaned close, his shamrock green eyes filled with censure. “It was you.”
Dmitri reeled back. Him? He’d hurt Faith? That wasn’t possible. He shook his head, unable to comprehend what was going on.
Kiril advanced on him, his lips peeled back in anger. “You always told us how you preferred the Fae as lovers. Why choose a human now?”
“I didna choose her,” Dmitri said, feeling his rage begin to bubble once more.
“Enough!” Con bellowed.
Rhys rose and walked to Dmitri, punching him in the face, followed by two punches in the gut. “Get your sword.”
Dmitri flung out his arms, shoving the two aside and letting loose a roar. “I’ll fight both of you.”
“You willna do anything,” Con declared. Then he got to his feet with Faith in his arms.
As soon as Dmitri saw the tear tracks down her face, he fell to his knees. Something had happened to her, and no one would tell him what. He knew without a doubt that he hadn’t harmed her. There was no way he could.
“She’s unconscious now,” Con said. “I’ve healed her physically, but I’m no’ sure anything will ever heal her emotionally or mentally.”
All Dmitri could do was stare after Con as he walked out with Faith. He dropped back on his haunches, sick to know that something had happened and he hadn’t been aware of it.
Kiril shook his head while Rhys squeezed his eyes closed several times. Dmitri put the heels of his palms to his temples as his head began to throb.
“What happened?” he asked again.
It was Kiril who said, “You became enraged, talking about how humans needed to die.”
“And then you began squeezing Faith’s hand,” Rhys said.
Dmitri closed his eyes. No. Please, no. That couldn’t have happened.
Kiril sighed loudly. “You broke every bone in her hand and wrist.”
“We punched you to get you to release her, but nothing worked,” Rhys said. “It was like you took pleasure in her screams and pain.”
Dmitri opened his eyes and dropped his arms to his sides. “I doona remember anything until Con had his hand around my throat.”
Kiril raised a brow. “That’s no’ good.”
Chapter Thirty-two
Con had never seen his men act like such . . . animals. The longer he thought about it, the angrier he became.
He stalked through the tunnel and into the manor without anyone asking him what had happened to Faith. It was to everyone’s benefit because he wasn’t fit to talk to anyone at the moment.
Faith was another example of why the Kings shouldn’t bind themselves to humans. The mortals were weak. They didn’t belong in a world that had been created with magic, for beings with magic.
When he reached the door to Dmitri’s room, he found it open and Lily inside. He didn’t look her way as he set Faith down on the bed and took a step back.
Had Faith not found the skeleton,
he wouldn’t have sent Dmitri there to destroy it. The Dark wouldn’t have tried to kill her, and Dmitri wouldn’t have saved her. Nor would she know of their world or be at Dreagan now.
“Where she doesna belong.”
“I’m sorry?” Lily asked.
Con lifted his gaze to find Lily on the other side of the bed. “She doesna belong here.”
“Dmitri wants her here.”
He raised a brow. “Really? Then why did he just crush her hand as if it were a stick?”
Lily’s eyes widened.
Con took a step toward the bed, anger churning viciously. “Did that shock you? Good. Because as long as you humans are on Dreagan, you put every King at risk.”
“We’re their mates.”
“Mates? Humans were never meant to be immortals. Do you want to know why? Because your feeble little minds can no’ handle the passage of time and the death of your friends!”
Lily jerked back at his words.
“How long do you think you’ll have with your precious King before you go insane? He’ll no’ be able to end your misery, so it’ll fall to me.
“It’ll be either the passage of time or the yearning for a child that does you in. Either way, the outcome is the same. You’ll lose your mind.” He blew out a burst of air. “I’ll do what I always do and watch over the Kings, which means I’ll have to play the villain when I end your life. But if it saves my race, I’ll gladly do it.”
“You can’t mean that,” she said, lifting her chin.
He threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, I mean it. I mean every fucking word of it. Why do you think I work so verra hard to keep my men from taking any of you wretched humans as their mates?”
Lily met his stare. “I don’t care what you say. I know you’re a good man, Con.”
“That’s just it. I’m no’ a man. I’m a dragon!”
By now, he could hardly breathe, the anger was so intense. The room and everything in it turned red. He fisted his hands, the need to kill strong. But he had only one quarry.
Mortals.
“You’re King of Dragon Kings,” Lily said. “The one with the icy demeanor and the cold eyes. You never show this much emotion.”
She was right. He looked down at himself and smiled. He was holding nothing back, and it felt glorious! All the exasperating time suppressing his frustration and ire had been such a waste.