Werebear's Nanny_A Paranormal Romance

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Werebear's Nanny_A Paranormal Romance Page 37

by T. S. Ryder


  Asa lowered his head and closed his eyes. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, searching for Willow’s scent. It was here, but low, muted. Not in the way that it would be after her absence for so long. Rather, it was muffled, the same way sound was muffled if you put your hands over your ears while someone was talking.

  Keeping his head down, Asa followed the scent. The smells from the frightened humans made it difficult to hold onto the muted trail, but once they finished screaming their heads off and had disappeared into houses or down the streets, it was a little easier. He slithered along the road, sniffing constantly so he didn’t miss her.

  A gun went off. A sharp sting hit his flank and Asa’s head swiveled around. A group of half a dozen men stood in an alley. Sweat dripped off their faces as they aimed shotguns at him. One of them shouted and they all began to fire. Volley after volley flattened against his scales and he let out a warning puff of smoke. Their guns could, at worse, loosen his scales as they pinged against him. Perhaps if they aimed at his eye, it would hurt, like getting a grain of sand under the lid. But he was a dragon, and the only human weapons capable of causing actual pain were their bombs and grenades.

  The firing volley stopped. Asa snorted at them and turned back to his mission. His head swung back and forth as he sniffed along the street, hurrying as Willow’s scent grew stronger. Twice the men fired their guns at him and twice he had to wait until the overpowering stretch of gunpowder faded so he could find the trail again. When he heard the gathering for a third volley he turned, smoke billowing from his mouth. If they weren’t going to leave him alone then—

  Something sunk deep into his flank. Asa whipped away from it, knocking a wall out of the building he stumbled into it. Pain flashed up his body as he twisted. Sherwood smiled at him as he withdrew a long, thin sword from the dragon’s flank. Glowing blue patterns were etched into the hilt. A fairy blade. Great splashes of blood dripped from it and Sherwood held his hand out, catching a drop. Golden sparks burst from his hand and ran up his arm.

  “Just what I needed. Thank you, my lord.” The fairy laughed. He flicked his wrist and the sparks exploded from him. They shot out every which way. When they touched a human, that human went slack. Their eyes glazed and they stood still, like zombies. Sherwood rose his hands into the air with a triumphant grin. “Now I have all my slaves.”

  Asa snarled.

  He tossed the fairy blade to one of the humans. “Kill the dragon.”

  From all around him, humans started to swarm towards him. They burst out of their homes and came at him with bare fists, kicking and shouting. Asa twisted, reaching to snatch the fairy blade. A child threw itself into his mouth, hands clawing at his lips. Asa twisted this way and that, trying to reach the blade without hurting any of the humans.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw her. Standing still, watching. Willow.

  Chapter Thirteen – The Shepherdess’ Decision

  No! she wanted to scream. Stop!

  Her emotions were still muted, as though she was watching a dream unfold before her. Yet she was all too vividly aware of the details. The blood spraying from Asa’s body as the villagers threw the glowing blue blade between them, hacking and stabbing into his flesh. The roars of pain echoed in her ears. The smell of smoke and coppery blood. It was all too real to be a dream, but she couldn’t make herself move.

  Asa thrashed, throwing off humans as they climbed onto his body to stab kitchen knives into the wounds made by the glowing blade. The scars on his back where wings once were seemed all the more vivid with the sun gleaming down on him.

  “Look at him,” Sherwood murmured into her ear. She hadn’t even been aware that he had come to stand next to her. “They’re killing him, but he’s still trying to be gentle with them. Is this the brave warrior you wanted, little flame? The man who would let himself die?”

  The man who refuses to hurt others who are not in control of their actions, Willow thought, but it was different words that came from her mouth. “Why do you call me little flame? Is it just because of my red hair?”

  Sherwood chuckled and swatted her butt, an action that should have had her skin crawling. “I call you little flame because that’s what you are. You have all the strength of a candle facing a hailstorm.”

  Her mind twisted itself in circles as she fought the thrall. Sherwood himself said he always underestimated the strength of humans . . . There had to be something that she could slip past this spellbinding her . . . “He could be useful. Or is he too powerful for you?”

  Sherwood’s expression darkened for a moment, then laughed. “A dragon under my thrall . . . Yes, he could be useful.”

  The fairy spread his arms, golden sparks starting to dance along his arms. Willow tried to make herself move, to attack him. The bracelet shot out the white-hot pain. But this time, she didn’t react to it. She couldn’t. Her body stayed upright, her arms limp by her sides, her gaze facing straight ahead.

  There was a sudden cry from the group of villagers. Asa’s tail whipped out, knocking them all back. He grabbed the man holding Sherwood’s blade and hurled him into a wall. The man crumpled and was still. Asa crouched down, eyes roving over the villagers as they started for him. Then, all of a sudden, he launched himself into the air like a serpent striking. Blood splashed onto the asphalt as he leaped over the villager’s heads. He landed with a shudder right beside Willow. Sherwood cursed and a bolt of lightning arced through the air.

  Asa’s hand lashed out. It closed around her and instantly her body fought him. Her feet kicked and her hands pounded against his chest as he pulled her in close. But then they were running. His huge body crashed through the trees as he raced from the village and Sherwood, leaving it all behind.

  ***

  Tall cedars swept the ground with their veil-like leaves. A creek tumbled over smooth stones close to where Asa stopped. He panted for breath, and when he shifted back to his humanoid form, it seemed like the cuts on his body spurted out even more blood. Willow gazed impassively at the flowing wounds, though she knew she ought to be feeling . . . something.

  “Willow.” Asa’s hands cupped her face. “Willow, are you in there?’

  Yes. Her jaw remained glued shut.

  Asa started looking over her, his hands gentle as he probed. Looking for injuries? Willow didn’t know. They were far enough from Sherwood now that she was no longer fighting against Asa, but the thrall was too strong for her to have her own actions.

  “Willow.” His voice was like a caress on her face. “Willow, speak to me. Please.”

  He cupped her face and stared into her eyes. The worry and pain there made her heart hurt so bad it was sure to kill her. She managed to swallow and opened her mouth, but nothing came out. When she said goodbye to him, she had at least been able to kiss him. Now? She couldn’t even speak. Her arm twitched. That was the best she could do. Her eyes filled with tears, blurring his face.

  “Willow . . . ” His lips brushed against hers, gently. “Whatever he did to you, I promise I’ll undo it. I will go to the ends of the earth. I love you.”

  I love you, too. Willow closed her eyes. Channeling all her strength, she managed to bring her hand up. The one that had the bracelet on it. Her fist struck Asa’s chin, but she was able to hold herself there, rigidly, showing him the band.

  His hands closed over her wrist. Blinding pain shot through her skull. Her brain was being fried, her body liquefied from the inside out—

  And then it was over. Her knees buckled and she collapsed against him. Her whole body trembled and she sucked in deep breaths, fighting to stay conscious. Bile churned in her stomach but she choked it back down. Eventually, she was able to stand on her own two feet again. She wound her fingers into Asa’s hair and kissed him hard, trying to put all her emotions into that kiss.

  “I love you, too,” she whispered.

  Asa smiled at her, then fell to his knees. His wounds still gushed blood.

  “What’s wrong?” Her breath caught
in her throat. “Why aren’t you healing? Asa, what did he do to you?”

  He clung to her hand and shook his head. “Give me a moment.”

  Willow dropped to her knees beside him. Her arms wrapped around his strong body, holding him upright.

  After a moment, his eyes opened again. “Sherwood got his hands on a fairy blade. I haven’t seen one since the rebellion that killed Quinn’s parents and my own. It slows healing significantly and can cut through dragons like butter. A similar blade is how I lost my wings. I thought that they had all been destroyed.”

  “Sherwood has been planning this for generations of dragons,” Willow replied, remembering what the fairy had told her. “He’s been stockpiling his magic or something . . . And he’s the one that started that rebellion. He’s bound to Quinn’s line. If Quinn and his unborn child die, then Sherwood will be free. He wants to destroy the world.”

  Asa grunted as he pushed himself back to his feet. “We won’t let him.” His knees buckled and he went down again. His head bent and he panted, skin pale. “I’m not going anywhere. You’ll have to go. Get back to the city and tell Quinn. Warn them.”

  Willow swallowed hard. She looked around but saw nothing familiar. Even the mountains were obscured by the trees. “I’d never be able to find my way there. I have no idea where we are and I was never one for exploring. Until you came, I was never more than half a click from the village.”

  “You have to.”

  “I’d get lost and we’d both die.” Willow rushed to a plant with cluster of white flowers. “But I do know herbs. I often treated the sheep or dogs when they got hurt. This is yarrow. I can use it to help stop the bleeding.”

  She quickly got to work, collecting what she needed from the plants. Asa lay on the ground, panting. Sweat beaded his skin and tendrils of smoke rose from his gaping mouth. Willow had no idea what that meant, but she shoved aside her worries and concentrated on caring for his wounds. She talked to him as she did so, telling him about all the things they were going to do once he was better and Sherwood had been defeated.

  At some point, his eyes fluttered closed. Willow feared the worst, but shortly after, the still-oozing wounds stopped bleeding. The yarrow was helping – or it was his natural healing abilities. In either case, she began to wash his body and clean the wounds to stop infections from setting in. Color returned to his face. His shallow breathing deepened.

  Clouds crowded over the sun and a light rain started to fall. She didn’t have the knife or hatchet she would have liked, but Willow still managed to make a rudimentary lean-to to keep the rain away as she stayed with Asa. How many times had she built one of these to hide from severe weather with Jax curled up beside her while the sheep huddled together, bleating in complaint against the rain?

  Now she lay against Asa’s body, trying to spread herself over him enough to share her warmth with him. What would happen next? She had no idea, but there was one thing that she did know.

  If they were going to die, they were going to die together. And if Sherwood wanted to burn the world, he would burn first. They would not let him win.

  Chapter Fourteen – The Fairy’s Puppet

  Something was wrong.

  Asa opened his eyes, still breathing deeply. It was as though his body was still sleeping. He struggled to throw off the desire to just lay there, looking at the sky beyond the shelter Willow had made. The clouds had dispersed and everything was glistening with gentle droplets of rain. There were still aches in his body, but they seemed too far away. Willow’s warmth was beside him. They could just stay here forever and ever and ever—

  “No,” he growled, forcing his mind back. They needed to get up, to get to Cendas and warn Quill. He couldn’t let Sherwood win. What had the fairy done to him? His arm jerked, waking Willow.

  She knelt beside him, checking his wounds. “It looks like the bleeding has stopped. Thank God. You don’t know how afraid I was.”

  There was something important that he had to tell her. Something he had to say. “Your parents,” he blurted.

  Willow’s startled eyes met his. “What about my parents?”

  Wait, that wasn’t what he needed to tell her. It was something else . . . wasn’t it? “Sherwood has them under his thrall.” That was something he was certain of. “I think that’s the reason they wouldn’t ransom you back. He was trying to isolate you. So that nobody would notice when you went missing.”

  “Are you sure?” Her voice trembled but was hopeful.

  Asa nodded. There was something else, too . . . And then he felt it. Tendrils of magic wrapped around his arms. They flowed down his throat and spread out to his fingertips. It wove in an out of the synapses of his brain, whispering that he should just sleep. With a roar he fought against it, jerking away from Willow.

  “Get away,” he gasped, then the magic spoke through his mouth. “My injuries have made my shifting unstable. I could shift at any moment.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  He wanted to take her in her arms and kiss her and tell her he loved her. His arms reached for her. The magic urged him not to think. Just to hold her in his arms and show her how much he loved her. For the briefest of moments, he indulged. He pulled Willow into his arms and kissed her. His fires roared and his skin tightened as he tasted her. Her fingers curled around his biceps and her eyes started to drift shut.

  Willow pulled away abruptly. “There’s no time for that,” she said, though she didn’t release him. “We need to get back to Cendas. Sherwood has put the village under his thrall. They could find us at any moment.”

  “Run.” His hands tightened on her arms even as he struggled to release her. “Run!”

  “What?”

  He opened his mouth to tell her that he must have been hit with a thrall spell, too, but they weren’t the words that came from his mouth. The spell wouldn’t let him warn her. So he said the only thing that was allowed. “You have to warn Quinn. Don’t forget me.”

  Those words were enough for her to finally understand. Willow’s eyes widened. She jerked out of his grasp and backed away. Her hands started to tremble and she shook her head. He stepped toward her – voluntarily, involuntarily, he didn’t know. She turned and bolted into the trees. Asa stood there, fighting against the magic telling him to run after her, to grab her. His eyes slid shut and the magic sent bolts of lightning through his body. He screamed with the pain.

  When the agony was over, he found himself kneeling before Sherwood. Willow was in his arms, fighting against him. Asa cried out in horror. He hadn’t even been aware that he was moving. Now he had brought her back. His flames were out – nothing but cold coal in their place.

  Sherwood smiled at him. “And here I was, afraid that the spell had deflected.”

  “Let him go!”

  Willow managed to get an arm free from Asa’s grasp and she struck out, smashing her fist into his chest. The magic made his grip tighten, but it was countered by the desire not to hurt her. He released her and Willow lunged for the fairy. She didn’t even get a blow in before Asa had grabbed her and pulled her back.

  Sherwood ignored Willow’s attempts to get at him and smiled at Asa. Golden sparks danced around his fingertips as he laid his hand on Asa’s forehead. His eyes glowed briefly. The magic flowed into Asa’s brain, wrapping around his neural pathways. He felt his mind be buried deeper inside the meat sack that was his body. He seemed to be separated from it, like he was a disembodied spirit floating in a body that was not his own.

  “That should take care of that pesky residual fight you’ve got going on.” Sherwood nodded in satisfaction. “How does it feel, Lord Asa? To have your power, your strength, stripped from you? It’s a shame that I can’t do this to Quinn. Unfortunately, even when my power is at its fullest, he will be immune. The rest of your dragons, though . . . I’ll revenge myself on his line by destroying everything his ancestors built. And you will be my first glorious assassin. The wingless dragon who will kill the king and take his t
hrone.”

  No, Asa thought, but his body did not respond.

  “You can’t do this,” Willow cried. “It was unfair for you to be thrown away the way you were, but destroying the world? You can’t. You could build yourself a new life, a new—”

  “A new world,” Sherwood interrupted. “This isn’t personal, little flame. It’s just that I hate humans. I hate dragons. I hate everything that makes this world. It’s like . . . like burning a book that I didn’t enjoy and writing my own.”

  Willow tried to lunge again. Asa couldn’t even feel his body to know if his grip tightened or not. This was a bad dream. A nightmare he couldn’t escape from. Willow sagged against him, sobbing, but he couldn’t feel her there, couldn’t sense her warmth.

  “I didn’t want to be cruel,” Sherwood said, tucking a finger under her chin. “If you had kept that bracelet, your mind would have been destroyed before I burned you to death. It wasn’t a simple thrall spell like these,” he gestured around him, “are under. But you refused. It’s a shame. Because now you will feel every second.”

  “Fight it,” Willow whispered. “Asa, you’re stronger then—”

  “It’s not about strength.” Sherwood pulled her away from Asa’s grip and began to drag her towards a tree.

  Willow elbowed him in the chest. She broke free and started to run back towards Asa, only for her path to be blocked. Her father grabbed her around the waist and threw her to the ground. Her mother helped him pin her there. Willow writhed and sobbed as her parents held her, no expressions on their faces.

  Sherwood glared at her for a moment, rubbing his chest before kicking her in the stomach. Willow cried out, pain twisting her face. Asa felt the smoldering remains of his fires. A returning heat to his body.

  “Let me go,” Willow gasped. “Dad, Mom, please.”

  “The thrall rewrites the target’s neural pathways,” Sherwood drawled. “They can hear you begging. They’re probably screaming as they’re trapped in their minds. But they can’t do anything to stop me. Prisoners in their own bodies. Dragons are harder to hold since they heal so rapidly, but your Asa is weak. And he’ll be the one to kill you, my dear.” The fairy laughed again and stepped back. “Tie her to that tree and build a pyre around her.”

 

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