Fire Rising (Dark Kings)

by Donna Grant

  If only she had magic to toss at the Dark Fae she wouldn’t feel so powerless. As it was, she felt like an inmate on death row waiting to be executed.

  She prayed Tristan came for her, but she also hoped he didn’t. There could be nothing good of the Dark having a Dragon King. Nor could she imagine Tristan locked away as she was.

  He would long to see the sky and ache to take flight. He was a glorious specimen in human form with his chiseled features, hard muscles, and the tat on his chest.

  But as a dragon, his amber scales gleaming in the sunlight, he was magnificent. He glided effortlessly upon the wind, his massive wings spread wide while he moved between mountains.

  How could someone like that be kept in the dark? How could someone like that survive with the Dark Ones?

  Tristan was immortal, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be affected somehow, someway. That thought chilled her. His obligation would send him, and he would be stuck in this evil place.

  “Do you love him?”

  Sammi shrieked as she whirled around to find Balladyn leaning a shoulder casually against the wall as he watched her. Once more he had come upon her without her knowing. How she despised that. “What?”

  “Tristan? Do you love him?”

  “You want me to say yes so you can use him against me?” She rolled her eyes. “Please. I’m not that guileless.”

  His smile didn’t reach his red eyes. He had changed into all black—black jeans, black boots, and a black BKE long-sleeved tee. His hair was pulled away from his face and secured at the back of his head, hanging down his back in a black and silver cascade.

  “For someone who wants to destroy my world, you sure like the fashions,” she pointed out. “Are those Bed Stu boots?”

  “Answer me, mortal.”

  His voice was as hard as granite, as unforgiving as the arctic. Sammi was petrified of him. Her first instinct was to cower and tell him anything he wanted. It was also her plan to make them think she was scared.

  Easy since both went hand in hand.

  “His power lured me,” she said, hoping Balladyn bought the lie. Though it wasn’t a complete lie. There was something mesmerizing about the Kings, but Tristan more than any other.

  Balladyn narrowed his eyes on her. “It’s not wise to lie to me.”

  “I don’t love,” she blurted out. Tears stung her eyes as the truth of her life came back and slapped her in the face.

  She didn’t love. Anyone. She hadn’t even let Jane as close as Jane thought she was. Sammi had taken her calls and texts and exchanged e-mails, but every time Jane wanted her to visit, Sammi had an excuse. Same for when Jane tried to see her.

  Sammi could keep her at a distance with electronics. It was more difficult when someone stood before you. Tristan had shown her that. She’d tried her damnedest to keep him at arm’s length.

  And failed.

  If the Fae realized she had fallen for the Dragon King, they would use it against both her and Tristan. She was weak as a mortal against the Dark, but she could do her part to make them think it was nothing more than a King protecting a human.

  “You spent the night in his bed,” Balladyn said, breaking into her thoughts.

  Sammi wrapped her arms around her middle to help keep her warm. “It was one night. That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “It does. It can.”

  “Not with me. Besides, if he cared for me, would he have put me in danger back at the cottage? Would a Dragon King who loved a mortal have had her anywhere near where a potential attack would come?”

  She inwardly smiled when she saw Balladyn frown and hesitate before speaking. She had hit the nail on the head.

  What was worse, she was thinking how true her words really were. She might have fallen in love with Tristan, but he didn’t return her feelings.

  The emptiness inside her yawned like a gaping black hole threatening to swallow her. That same hole had nearly taken her when her mother died.

  This time she wouldn’t be able to outrun it.

  This desolation, hollowness … this sadness was why she had made sure never to get close to anyone. The pain was too intense to bear.

  “You see I’m right,” she said as her heart crumbled into a thousand pieces.

  “Yet you expect him to come.”

  It wasn’t a question. Sammi tilted her head to the side. “The main purpose of the Dragon Kings is to protect humans. Isn’t that why there were the Fae Wars? He will be doing his duty as a King. Nothing more.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “You know I’m not.”

  Balladyn pushed away from the wall and gradually walked to her, eyeing her the entire time. “Your words make sense, but I saw the way he looked at you when Taraeth took you.”

  “I’m Jane’s sister. Banan had Tristan watch over me. I’m nothing more than an obligation, a duty.”

  “So you say,” he said.

  He kept walking around her, making Sammi turn to keep him in her sights. “Why would I have need to lie?”

  “Because you love him?”

  She forced a laugh she didn’t feel. “Oh, how wrong you are. Tristan is nothing to me. He was someone to fill my bed because I enjoyed what he looked like.”

  “You could be lying.”

  “I could be, but I want to go home. You scare me. This place scares me. My connection to Jane and Dreagan is what landed me here. What loyalty to the Kings do I have? None.”

  Balladyn took a step toward her, bringing his body close enough that she could feel the heat of him. “Kellan was quick to deny his feelings for Denae, and yet they were mates.”

  “I’m not Denae, and Tristan isn’t Kellan.” She was running out of things to say. If only he would believe her and step away. She needed to be alone in her misery.

  “Maybe.”

  Sammi looked to the ceiling before she met his red gaze. “Look. I don’t know how to make this any plainer. What do you want from me?”

  Before she could guess his intentions, his hand snaked out and grasped the back of her head while his lips descended upon hers.

  The kiss wasn’t horrible, but it didn’t make her blood burn or her skin tingle or make her long to strip off his clothes and wrap her legs around him as it did when Tristan kissed her.

  Balladyn ended the kiss quickly and looked down at her. “You are a cold one. If Taraeth doesn’t thaw your body, I’ll get my chance.”

  Sammi was so shocked she could only stare at him. “I’ll never see my home again, will I?”

  “Never. It’s not so bad down here. You’ll get used to it soon enough. All the others do.”

  She turned her back to the wall and tried to control her breathing so she didn’t hyperventilate. This couldn’t be happening. She didn’t want them touching her or kissing her, but Balladyn made it sound as if she wouldn’t have a choice.

  “All this because I knew the Kings?” she asked in one last desperate attempt in hopes they let her go.

  He tugged at her hair. “That’s part of it. Then there’s the fact you walked away from me when we bumped into each other.”

  She was aghast. “Of all the conceited things. Do you really expect women to fall at your feet?”

  “They always have. I’m Fae. It’s what we do.”

  “I don’t care about anyone, and I don’t love. I’m a cold one, as you put it. There’s your answer. Some humans are meant to go through life alone. I’m one of those.”

  He ran a finger tenderly along her jaw. “We’ll see. Taraeth will keep you awhile until he tires of you. If you want to survive him, I suggest you not make him angry.”

  Her lips parted to respond, but he disappeared. She fisted her hands and ran across the space to the opposite wall and slammed her hands against the stones again and again.

  “I’m not part of the Kings! I don’t care about any of them!”

  * * *

  Tristan was right behind Phelan as they stepped through the doorway and found themselves back in th
e tunnels. Ian, Charon, and Con followed.

  They had taken just a few steps when Sammi’s voice, yelling that she wasn’t part of the Kings bounced along the walls of the tunnels.

  The Dark knew they were there, and they wanted him to hear her. Her words stung, but at this point, Tristan wouldn’t hold anything against her.

  Fear most likely ruled her, and anyone would say whatever was needed to try and get freed. Sammi had yet to realize that the Dark never willingly let anyone go.

  “She sounds tired,” Ian whispered.

  Tristan squatted next to the wall. It was once more pitch black, but neither the Warriors nor Kings had trouble seeing in the dark. “She’s terrified.”

  “Do you think Rhi is being held here as well?” Phelan asked.

  Tristan had no answer. It was Rhi who had found Phelan before he knew he was part Fae. A strong friendship had developed, and Tristan was glad to see someone was worried about her.

  He would be as well if it wasn’t for Sammi. As much as he wanted to find Rhi, he had to get to Sammi first.

  “There’s no way to know,” Con answered.

  Charon looked down the tunnel where it split into three. “We’ll cover more ground split up.”

  “Agreed,” Phelan hurried to say.

  Ian nudged Tristan. “We’ll take the left side.”

  Phelan and Charon exchanged smiles. It was Charon who said, “We’ll take the middle.”

  “I’ll take the right,” Con said with a nod. “I can communicate with Tristan, and he with me, but there’s no way we can let Phelan and Charon know it’s time to get out.”

  Tristan looked at Phelan. “Con’s right. We have to have some way to communicate.”

  “Use magic,” Phelan said.

  Charon nodded in agreement. “Aye. Down here in this muck, it’ll feel different enough to know it’s one of you.”

  With a nod, Con stood and hurried down the tunnel to disappear in the fork that branched to the right.

  Together, the four of them approached the other two entrances. There was a silent look exchanged between them before Charon held out his arm. “Whether you go by Duncan or Tristan, and regardless of whether you’re a Warrior or a Dragon King, it’s a pleasure to be fighting next to you again.”

  Tristan clasped first Charon’s, and then Phelan’s forearm before they split into twos and went their separate ways.

  Sammi—and the Dark Ones—waited.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Tristan and Ian walked silently through the tunnel. Instead of being infested with the grotesque animals he and Phelan had battled the first time, there was nothing.

  The Dark had set the stage to be sure. A warning voice in his mind caused him to stop and listen. Silence. Absolute, sheer silence.

  Last time the tunnels hadn’t been filled with noise, but they hadn’t been as unearthly still and soundless as they were now. It set him on edge, and he wasn’t the only one. A glance at Ian showed he was just as unnerved.

  “Something isna right,” Ian said in a hushed tone.

  Tristan looked around and nodded. “They know you are no’ a King, but I doona think they realize you’re a Warrior and can sense their magic.”

  “What are you thinking?” Ian asked with a sly grin.

  It seemed as if he and Ian had always been together. It wasn’t just that Ian looked exactly like him. It went deeper than that to a feeling as if he was a part of Ian, and Ian was a part of him.

  There had been no more memories, and maybe that was a good thing. They tended to make him try and piece together what happened before or after the memory.

  Tristan pointed down the tunnel. “I’m going to go ahead. Stay behind me a ways. Let them think I’m alone.”

  “I can stay out of sight for sure, but I’m no’ liking the part of you going to them alone.”

  “There’s no other option.” Tristan sighed and looked down at his hands, hands that had once sprouted claws with skin that had turned a pale blue. “Use your power as a Warrior when it comes time.”

  “And that time will be?”

  “When they refuse to release Sammi.”

  Ian’s lips flattened. “I can no’ talk you out of letting them have you?”

  “There’s no other way. I’m no’ going to willingly give myself to them. I’ll fight, but in the end, it’s about Sammi. Promise me that you’ll get her out.”

  There was a pause before Ian nodded. “Doona make me come back for you, brother.”

  Brother. Tristan felt something deep inside him warm and expand as if just coming alive. He was no longer just human. He was a dragon first and foremost. He was part of something huge and powerful, something important.

  Yet a part of him would always be a Warrior, a man who had a twin that could read his thoughts and know his every action.

  It was exhilarating to know he would always have Ian. He wasn’t just part of Dreagan, he had roots at MacLeod Castle as well.

  The Dragon Kings and Warriors had become strong allies. His connection just strengthened what was already there. He didn’t want to give all that up to be bound in a prison by the Dark, but he didn’t see a way out.

  Not only were the Dark expecting him, but they were in their territory. They outnumbered the Kings fifty to one. It was bad enough Tristan was going to give himself to the bastards. No other Kings needed to be caught as well.

  He started to walk away when Ian dragged him back and enveloped him in a tight hug. For a second Tristan couldn’t move. Then he returned the embrace.

  “Give them hell,” Ian said as he released him.

  Tristan’s throat was tight from the depth of his emotion. He couldn’t get any words past, so he tried to smile and hurried away.

  * * *

  Every little sound made Sammi jump. She couldn’t rest, couldn’t stop her heart from plummeting to her feet again and again.

  It was like being in one of those Halloween haunted houses, but she couldn’t find the exit. Her mind was already going. She would find herself thinking about Jane and reliving their conversations.

  Then there was Tristan. She could have sworn he was behind her as she sat on the ground, one shoulder leaning against the wall.

  She felt his heat, smelled the wind and power that was distinctly his. He had even touched her, pulling her against his chest and holding her close.

  But when she turned her head to look at him, she was utterly alone.

  Hours later—or what felt like hours, it could have been minutes—she closed her eyes and rested. All her mind could conjure was Tristan and their steamy, passion-filled night of love.

  His kisses had sent her reeling.

  His body had been a work of art.

  His hands had caressed her, teased her until she writhed with need.

  Then he had joined their bodies. It was one of those perfect moments, as if everything in the world had come together just for them.

  It had been special, exceptional.

  Extraordinary.

  And, like a fool, she had run from it. If only she had run to him, to what the safety of his arms provided.

  If only …

  Those were the words that would be etched on her tombstone. She had been aloof and cold to anyone who could have meant something to her just because she couldn’t handle the pain when that person left.

  How many relationships had she let slip away that could have sweetened her life? Even if just for a few weeks? How many friendships had she let fade to nothing that could have been there for her?

  Jane would never know how much Sammi needed her as a sister and a friend. Sammi had been selfish and unkind during their last conversation.

  Now Jane would think that Sammi didn’t love her. Her own sister? How could Sammi have put Jane through that all those months? Jane, her sweet soul, had never given up on them.

  Sammi rewarded her by saying some nasty things and running away from the only people who could have kept her safe. If only she had remained in the mo
untain she might not be held by the Dark wondering if it was the place she would die.

  It was a sobering thought, especially when she wanted to tell Jane she was sorry and that she was the worst sister ever. There would never come a time she could make it up to Jane.

  Worse, Sammi would never be able to hold Tristan again, to kiss his lips and fall under his spell. She wouldn’t get to tell him that somehow he had broken through her walls and made her feel again.

  He had made her love again.

  Love. That word was frightening and … exhilarating. It was freeing and liberating.

  It gave her strength and hope.

  It was a love she would never get to experience, a love she would never know.

  Sammi opened her eyes. No longer was she in the brightly lit room. She was on the mountainside in the middle of a patch of heather. Above her she heard a whoosh. She looked up and saw Tristan flying, his large dragon form blocking out the sun as he circled above her.

  She laughed and jumped to her feet. His apple green dragon eyes watched her expressively. There was love shining there, as well as happiness.

  He landed, shifting into human form as he did. Sammi drank in the sight of his glorious body, tight muscles, and the black and red dragon tattoo covering his chest.

  She ran to him, no longer able to be apart from him. He laughed as he easily caught her against him and kissed her roughly, urgently.

  With his arms locked tightly around her, he laid her down on the grass and ripped her dress off.

  “Mine,” he whispered while lovingly gazing down at her.

  “Yours. Always.”

  Sammi pulled him down for another kiss, and just as their lips met, he faded to nothing. The sunshine, heather, and mountains disappeared into the damp room.

  It was too much for her. She screamed, jumping up to slam her hands against the walls, not noticing when her bones broke or when blood coated her.

  * * *

  Kiril finished off his fifth glass of whisky and pushed it away. He hadn’t had an update from any of the Kings since they landed in Ireland, and he was getting antsy.

  “Another?” Farrell asked.

  Kiril held up a hand, palm out and glanced at the bar to the pretty brunette he had spoken with outside the pub hours earlier. “I’m going to have to pass tonight.”