Married to a Dragon (No Such Thing as Dragons Book 4)

by Lauren Lively

  I looked at him and gave him a small nod. I was tired and could probably use some sleep.

  “You're probably right,” I said.

  I turned and headed for the locker room and was a little nervous about the fact that Quint fell into step beside me. We walked through the gym in silence and my trepidation seemed to grow with each step. When I entered the locker room and Quint shut the door behind us, my anxiety went through the roof – mostly because he was standing in the woman's locker room staring at me.

  It wasn't that I feared Quint. For the most part, I didn't fear anybody – except when it came to men in positions of authority. It was a psychological trigger for me and one I couldn't shake. When a man held power over me – as did so many of the men who'd abused me growing up – it sent shockwaves of terror through me. And my only response really, was to shut down and show deference.

  It grated on me. Gnawed away at my mind and my soul. The Children of the Dawn had transformed me into a warrior. A highly skilled, highly trained fighter who took on some of the most horrifying creatures imaginable. But when it came to a man in a position of authority over me – I turned into a puddle of jelly. And I hated it. Hated it with every fiber of my being.

  I just didn't have the skills to fix it. Oh sure, I had the skills to cut down monsters of every stripe. But when it came to cutting down the monsters in my own head – I felt completely powerless.

  On a more practical level though, it was also that I didn't enjoy having the unexpected sprung on me. And looking at the way he gazed at me as he leaned back against the door with his arms folded across his thick chest, I knew he was about to spring something very unexpected on me.

  I walked down to my locker and turned, facing Quint.

  “Do you know what your biggest problem is?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I don't.”

  “You lack confidence.”

  Raising my eyes, I looked at Quint and then looked away quickly. His penetrating gaze made me nervous. But what he was saying didn't ring true to me. I was very confident, actually. Maybe not when the Children of the Dawn found me, but I'd certainly grown into a seasoned fighter – one who was skilled and confident with a blade.

  “It's not your confidence on the field of battle,” Quint said, as if intuiting my thoughts. “It's your confidence in yourself as a person.”

  I cocked my head and looked at him for a moment. “I don't know what you mean.”

  He stepped away from the door and walked over to me. When he was within a few feet, I lowered my gaze and took a step back, feeling a little bit overwhelmed by his mere presence. He was an imposing figure and radiated such power – it was hard to not feel overwhelmed.

  “That's what I'm talking about,” he said gently.

  “I don't –”

  “You're one of the fiercest fighters I've seen, Alexis,” he said. “And yet, when you don't have a sword in hand, you're quiet. Meek. A little mouse.”

  I wanted to deny it but something in my head wouldn't let me. Something in my head recognized the truth in his words. As much as it galled me. I was tough. Independent. I was smart and didn't take crap from anybody.

  At least, most of the time.

  When I was holding a blade, I felt invincible. I felt like I could conquer anybody and anything. When I had my swords in hand, I feared nobody. It was silly, but when I was out on the streets, battling the creatures of the dark, I felt like a superhero.

  But when I wasn't out there, when I was among people in social situations, I felt – less than. It was stupid and I knew nobody actually thought of me that way. It was how I thought of myself though. Coming from my background – with my history of abuse – I had a hard time viewing myself any other way.

  I was raised to believe that I was less than. That I was only good to be a punching bag – or worse. The abuse was severe and shattered me in a lot of different ways. There were pieces of me that were missing – pieces I didn't think I could ever get back.

  Although the Children of the Dawn had taken me in, had given me shelter, a safe place, had given me a purpose, they hadn't given me the tools I needed to put myself back together. That wasn't really their specialty though. They were in the business of training warriors – not putting psychologically scarred people back together again.

  “Why is that, Alexis?” Quint asked gently.

  I shook my head. “I don't know,” I said. “I guess there are things from my past I haven't learned how to overcome. Things that have been programmed into my head.”

  “Things like you being made to believe you're not worthy,” he said as if he understood. “Like you are somehow a lesser being.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Something like that.”

  I wasn't sure how somebody like Quint could ever possibly understand how I felt. Where I was coming from. And yet, as he spoke, he sounded like somebody who did understand.

  “Let me tell you something,” he said. “You're not. You're not lesser than anybody. That's a thought we're going to have to find a way to get out of your head. We're going to have to find a way to reprogram your brain. Because that thought is cancerous. And it's just not true.”

  “I want to believe you,” I said.

  He gave me a gentle smile. “I want you to believe me.”

  “I don't know where to start,” I admitted. “When I'm holding my blade, when I'm fighting, I feel confident. I feel like the most powerful person in the world.”

  “And that's the feeling we need you to carry even when you're not holding a blade, Alexis,” he said. “Because you are not just a great fighter – honestly, one of the best I've seen. But I can really see the potential for you to be a great leader as well. I can see it inside of you.”

  I felt the heat in my cheeks and knew I was blushing again. I wasn't used to receiving compliments and it never failed to make me feel uncomfortable. Mostly, because I just didn't think it was true.

  “As insufferable as he can be,” I said. “I think Deyro would make a far better leader than I ever could. I've never seen his equal in a fight.”

  Quint nodded. “He has considerable skill, I can't deny that,” he said. “But he's cocky. He's arrogant. He's – as you say – insufferable, at times. He's a great warrior, there's no question. But he has a lot to learn about being a leader.”

  I gave him a small shrug. I honestly felt like Deyro had the better ability to lead. I was content doing what I was doing – protecting the people of LA. It was a noble endeavor and a job I took great pride in doing. There was no shame in being a soldier. Not to my way of thinking, anyway.

  “May I ask why you're telling me all of this?” I asked.

  “Because I think as great as you are with a blade, you can be even greater,” Quint said. “You hold yourself back. It's like you're afraid to let that light of greatness I see burning inside of you really shine through.”

  I gave him a wry grin. “I don't think Deyro would share your assessment.”

  “Because Deyro doesn't believe that anybody can match him,” he replied. “He only respects those who he believes can.”

  I nodded. “Which is why he defers to you.”

  Quint nodded. “Exactly,” he said. “And you can earn his respect too.”

  I laughed. “I know I'm pretty decent,” I said, “but I don't think I could beat Deyro in combat.”

  “I think you can,” he replied.

  “That's nice of you to say,” I said. “But, I –”

  He held up a hand to cut me off. “I know it's going to take some time to change the way you've thought your entire life,” he said softly. “I just want to give you some food for thought. I believe in you, Alexis. I believe in how great you can be.”

  My cheeks were positively burning and I couldn't meet his gaze. I picked at the imaginary lint on my cloak and silently wished for this to be over already.

  “Know what else I believe?” he asked.

  I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak.

  “I
believe that you could whoop Deyro's ass in a straight-up fight.”

  I smiled to myself as Quint turned and headed for the door. He opened it and then turned back, giving me a very pointed look.

  “Like I said, this is all food for thought, Alexis,” he said. “I don't expect you to take to it overnight. But I want you to think about it. Roll it around in your head and learn to sit with it. Get comfortable with it. Because I'm going to be working with you personally to get you to let out that light you're holding in.”

  He turned and left the locker room, letting the door swing shut behind him. I sat down on the bench in front of the lockers at let out a long, deep sigh.

  I knew I was a hot mess. A walking contradiction in a lot of ways – a fierce warrior, but a woman who was sometimes scared of my own shadow. I hated that I sometimes let Deyro get under my skin – but at the same time, I knew Quint was right in that I had to earn his respect. And once I did, I knew that things would be different.

  While he might not be as deferential to me as he was to Quint, he might be less of an insufferable ass.

  It was a goal to aim for, if nothing else. All it would take was finding a way to force him to respect me. For him to take me seriously.

  As I stripped down and headed for the showers, I was suddenly very tired and weighed down by all of the food for thought Quint had heaped upon my shoulders.

  In that moment, all I wanted was a hot shower and some sleep.

  Chapter Three

  Deyro

  I walked around Quint's office, admiring what he had hanging on the walls – some artwork and an array of different swords and daggers. All of the blades he had hanging looked like they'd seen some action. As I looked closely at them, I had to wonder why he'd kept them. What sort of sentimental value they held for him.

  I thought ahead to the day that I'd have an office like that. I wondered if I'd have my own collection of blades hanging on the walls – if any of the blades currently on me would hold such sentimental attachment. Or if I'd be able to just discard them when they'd run their course.

  That was my goal though – to be a Warden. And I worked hard, honed my skills, and did everything I could to make sure that was going to happen. Maybe not a big city like Los Angeles at first, but one day, I was going to have my own territory. As I stared at Quint's collection of blades, that much I knew beyond any sort of doubt.

  I was going to be a Warden.

  “You want your own territory one day, don't you?”

  I turned at the sound of Quint's voice and smiled. “Of course,” I said. “Isn't that the goal of every Ranger?”

  Quint shut the office door behind him and walked around his desk, dropping down into the big, comfortable chair. He motioned for me to take a seat in the chairs across the desk from him, so I did.

  “Surprisingly, some are content with the life of a Ranger,” he said. “Some prefer to stay out of the politics that go into being a Warden. Some prefer to have the freedom a Ranger has. Believe it or not, the life of a Warden isn't for everybody.”

  I shrugged. “You seem to handle it well enough,” I said. “You're a Warden, have a beautiful woman, have a booming restaurant –”

  “Because I'm fortunate enough to have good people around me,” he replied. “People willing to follow my lead. People who believe in me.”

  I nodded. “Exactly,” I replied. “And that's what I want too. I know we've got some good people out there –”

  “But are they willing to follow you?” he asked. “Would they be willing to put their lives on the line for you?”

  A puzzled expression crossed my face. Of course, they'd follow me. I had no idea why Quint would ask me such a question. I was the best of my class. Clearly, I was the best Ranger he had in his territory. People followed courage and they followed competence. Of course, they'd follow me into battle.

  “Yes, of course they would.”

  Quint leaned back in his seat and gave me a small smile. “How do you know?”

  “Because I'm the best Ranger you've got,” I replied simply.

  “I think that Zarik and Glyn might have something to say about that,” Quint said, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “They're two of my most trusted, most experienced lieutenants.”

  “I've sparred with both of them,” I said, feeling that familiar surge of pride coursing through me. “And I've bested both of them.”

  “Sparring,” he said. “Which is quite different from actual combat.”

  “That's true,” I admitted. “But I believe the fact that I was able to beat both of them in a full speed sparring session speaks well of my abilities.”

  “Oh, this isn't about your abilities,” I said. “Not at all. Clearly, you're a physical specimen. You're an incredibly gifted fighter. Strong. Courageous. Lethal with a blade in your hand.”

  As I listened to him, listened to what he was saying, I couldn't help but hear the loud “but” coming.

  “But?” I asked, beating him to the punch.

  “But – I don't think they'd follow you. Not with any real zeal or passion,” he said simply.

  I sat back in my seat and felt like he'd just slapped me across the face and a surge of dark anger rocketed through my veins. I took a moment to collect myself, taking a deep breath and letting it out again. When I'd gone through the Academy back in Chondelai, our Masters had used similar tactics to motivate us. To educate us.

  This was just another tactic. Right?

  “I disagree, Warden,” I said, my voice tight. “My skill –”

  “Yes, we've been through that,” he replied. “But skill alone doesn't make a leader. Skill alone doesn't inspire people to follow them – quite possibly to their deaths.”

  “Then what does inspire them, Warden?”

  Quint looked at me evenly, a small, amused grin touching his face. He was enjoying this. Enjoying trying to get under my skin and fluster me. Which added to my belief that he was testing me. Testing me to see if I had the patience under fire to be a Warden.

  I needed to calm myself down. Let go of the anger coursing through my veins. I need to be cool. Mellow. I needed to show him that he couldn't ruffle me. Couldn't get under my skin.

  “Belief, Deyro,” he said. “They have to believe in you. Believe that you're worthy of their loyalty. Believe you're worth laying down their life for.”

  I nodded. “And I think the people we have out there believe that, Warden.”

  “Do you, now?”

  “Of course, I do.”

  Quint stood up and walked to the window of his office. Beyond the glass, some of our trainees continued to work out. Spar. Do everything they could to get themselves ready for the coming battles. As I looked at them – human, all of them – Quint's words drifted through my mind. Would they follow me? Did I inspire them? Would they consider me worthy of their loyalty?

  I slammed the door on that thinking – that sense of uncertainty. I'd worked hard to get to where I was. I was the best at what I did. I wasn't going to allow Quint – as much as I respected him – to make me start doubting and second-guessing myself.

  “So, if I went out there and asked them whether or not they would follow you into battle,” Quint said. “They would all say yes?”

  I nodded emphatically. “Absolutely. They look up to me,” I said. “Respect me.”

  “What about Alexis?” Quint asked, turning around and looking me square in the eye. “Does she respect you? Does she look up to you?”

  The question took me aback for a moment. I hadn't been prepared for such a general question to something so specific. Alex? Of course, she respected me. We'd been partners for a few months now. Had gone on plenty of missions together. We'd put our lives in each other's hands more times than I could count.

  Sure, we weren't the best of friends. Probably never would be. But we had something of a bond. A connection. It wasn't something I'd expect Quint to understand. Sure, he had Astrid, but things between Alex and I were – different. We were warri
ors. We fought at one another's side – our connection and bond were just different. They had to be, given the different dynamics of the relationship.

  “Of course, she does,” I said. “No question about it.”

  “Interesting,” he said. “Because I get the impression that she does respect you as a fighter. She respects your skill and ability. But I also get the impression that she wouldn't follow you down to the corner for a cup of coffee.”

  I gritted my teeth and tried to keep my temper in check. The last thing I needed to do was to lose my shit all over my Warden. That wouldn't look good for me. Not at all. But the fact that he was questioning my leadership, essentially questioning my fitness for command, infuriated me. But I had to hold it in check. If I ever wanted to be a Warden, I had to prove myself to be unflappable – even in the face of things that really pissed me off.

  “Respectfully,” I said through gritted teeth, “I believe that you are wrong.”

  He gave me a slight shrug. “I don't think I am,” he said. “Your skill with a blade is incredible, Deyro. There's no question about that. But there's more to being a leader than being able to wield a sword.”

  “I honestly don't know where this is coming from, Warden,” I said.

  “I'm very well in tune with what's happening, Deyro. With what's being said,” he replied. “I see things. Hear things.”

  I took in a deep breath and silently let it out, willing my frustration and anger to settle. Doing my best to stuff it down deep.

  “And what are you hearing, Warden?”

  He crossed the room and dropped down behind his desk again, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on the desktop. He looked at me for a long moment. And the longer the silence dragged on, the harder it was to keep my temper in check.

  “What I'm hearing,” Quint finally said, “is that you're exceptional in the field.”

  I nodded. “I've been trained well.”

  “I also hear that you're something of a – showman.”

  “A showman?”

  Quint nodded. “I've heard that you like to put on a bit of a show,” he said. “That you sometimes drag out a kill much longer than necessary just to impress people with your skills.”