Havoc & Hell: A Dragon's Prize: Ethereal Foes, Book 3

Home > Romance > Havoc & Hell: A Dragon's Prize: Ethereal Foes, Book 3 > Page 8
Havoc & Hell: A Dragon's Prize: Ethereal Foes, Book 3 Page 8

by Marie Harte


  A glowing blade pierced his side. The holy burn of purity and righteousness forced a cry from him as he fell. Pain seemed to feed the fear building inside him, and she felt his desire to protect his mate. “Kihra, go.”

  More angels appeared and grabbed her. Lifting her from the ground, they sapped more of her power. Their holy light burned, and she cried out for James, for Teban, as true fear struck her for the first time in her life. Kingu, I need you.

  But no one answered her plea. As she was flown from James’s penthouse up into the sky, toward the upper realm, she wondered if daring to take mates had cursed her to a fate worse than death—to enlightenment.

  Chapter Eight

  Teban knew the shit had hit the fan when Jentaron, in dragon form, grabbed him by the wing and dragged him into the throne room, where the queen stood with Eve. Ranton had followed Jentaron and Teban inside. Everyone dragon—including himself—remained in dragon form, which only brought more attention to several massive, human-like males of indeterminate breed. They stood waiting, resting their hands on crude weapons with a warrior’s patience.

  Teban stopped himself from ripping Jentaron’s claws off, determined to beat his brother later, in private. Screw Ranton’s orders. The little blue dragon needed the beating.

  Once Jentaron let him go, he whipped his wing back and glared. “What seems to be the problem, my king?” You little brat.

  Jentaron gave him a smug look and raised a brow.

  Before he could prod his little brother further, the largest giant pointed at Teban and said, “You.” He stood as large as Ranton when in human form, which was saying a lot. He had thick arms and legs, wore a pair of animal hide trousers, and carried what looked like a giant scimitar made of a flat, dark metal. “You took our Keeper.”

  Something about the male’s face made Teban pause. Familiar cheekbones, that stubborn nose and hard jaw. “Oh hell. You’re Kihra’s brother, aren’t you?”

  “His name is Myfere,” Carmaron said as she stirred. His mother, queen of the dragons, had not much longer to live. Her wings had become thin, her coloring a pale echo of the bright gold she’d once worn, her once-powerful scales no longer able to cut anything as they broke off or fluttered to the ground when she moved too fast. “Chieftain Myfere of the havoc, once our allies, now our enemy.”

  “What?”

  Carmaron glared at him. “Someone told them that you—in league with the demons—captured their Keeper, the chieftain’s sister, and that you forced a mating on her.”

  Ranton looked worried and kept quiet. That in itself was a feat, for his hotheaded brother would never suffer intruders threatening their family. Beside him, Eve kept a worried eye on Jentaron, who said nothing as he watched the proceedings.

  “First of all,” Teban said, affronted, “I have never forced a mating, sex or even so much as a kiss on anyone.”

  Jentaron nodded.

  “I don’t have to. My lovers flock to me.”

  Eve sighed. Ranton groaned. Jentaron rubbed his temples.

  The chieftain glared, as did his giant companions. All seven of them.

  The queen’s glare faded, and she shocked him by chuckling. “There you have it, Myfere. My son seduced your sister. Is she with child yet?” she asked Teban.

  “Child?” He blinked. “Ah, not yet.” I don’t think. He turned to Myfere. “I’m not sure I know what the problem is. I haven’t hurt her.”

  “Of course you haven’t,” Myfere said in a low voice, as if he talked around a mouthful of gravel. “No one may harm my sister does she not allow it. She is our strongest warrior not a chieftain.” Wait. Not as strong as Myfere, or does that mean there are other chieftains? “But you swayed her from her course.”

  “Hold on, now. We don’t sway souls. My, ah…” He couldn’t dime out one mate even to save another, not that James had done anything to manipulate Kihra either. “Your sister claims that I’m hers.”

  Myfere’s frown was sufficiently intimidating. “That is not what I was told.”

  “Who told you anything different?”

  “That’s not your concern.”

  “I’m afraid it is,” Jentaron interrupted in a quiet voice. “My brother did not harm, sway or steal your Keeper. You lost her, plain and simple.”

  Myfere’s eyes glowed with an unholy light. “I want to speak to her.”

  “Go ahead,” Teban said. “We’re not holding her captive. She can do whatever she wants.” And he planned to be there to support her when she told her brother to back off.

  Myfere took a step closer and raised his weapon. “We?”

  “My mate and I.” Teban hadn’t thought to break it to James’s family like this, but what the hell? “James and Kihra are mine.”

  Eve gaped. “Wait. James? My brother James?”

  Ranton shook his head. “Bad enough you stole a havoc. You think Asael is going to let you keep James too?”

  “Really, Teban. This is beyond the pale. Havoc? Demon? What next? Are you planning to find an angel to maul?” His mother didn’t sound too pleased with him. Not good.

  “Mother, I mated them. It’s done.”

  “And it can be undone.” Myfere stepped closer to Teban—toward the queen—and Teban’s protective instinct flared. He fired a blast of flame before he could think the better of it.

  Myfere dodged it, but his man close behind him got singed. Badly.

  What shook Teban was the fact that the havoc made no sound. He was burned and had to be in severe pain, but he didn’t show any sign of injury other than the obvious physical damage that had been done. Still without speaking, the havoc put out the fire with his scorched hand.

  “War is coming to you, dragons. Annua was right,” Myfere said before snapping something at his men in the havoc tongue. As one, they turned and left, a small squadron of dragons following.

  “Nice mess, Teban.” Ranton didn’t pull his punches.

  “Fuck you.” It hurt that he’d been encouraging of Ranton and Eve, yet his brother couldn’t afford him the same support. “James and Kihra are mine. Deal with it.”

  “Teban, a word?” his mother said.

  The others filed out, but Jentaron remained.

  “I’m not giving them back,” he bit out.

  “I’m not asking you to.” His mother sighed. “Son, I’m finished. Jentaron is taking over for me, just as soon as we clean up this mess. The angels have interfered, and now the havoc make war with us.”

  Oh hell. Fighting against his mate’s family wouldn’t help him win her heart. How would Kihra feel about this? “I’ll fetch Kihra and have her talk to her brother.”

  “He won’t be satisfied unless she’s back in havoc lands, without you,” Jentaron said bluntly.

  “Well, too damn bad.” Teban had an urge to bite his brother. Hard. “Quit being a brat and stand up for your family.”

  Jentaron and the queen shared a look.

  “What?” Teban snapped.

  Carmaron raised a brow. Even in dragon form, over seven thousand years old and somewhat feeble, she aroused fear deep in the hearts of those who loved her. “You would pledge our kin to war for a havoc and a demon?”

  Put that way, he seemed like a selfish bastard.

  “You’re the dragon prince, Teban,” she said. “Your duty is to your fellow dragons. We are not as many in number as we once were. You owe your new king your allegiance.”

  “Over my mates?” No way. “Disown me if you have to, but I’m not giving Kihra up to her idiot brother. It won’t be necessary if you just let me get her to talk to him.” Such a silly misunderstanding. “I’m keeping James too, so don’t even ask me to give him up,” he said when it looked as though Jentaron might interrupt.

  He waited for the fallout. His mother loomed over him, her scales weak, but her claws and teeth still large and lethal. “
So you would have us make war on Asael, Lord of the Abyss?”

  “I would if he’s going to be a prick about James.”

  Carmaron did the unthinkable. She cackled and continued to laugh as she turned and walked away. “Best of luck, Jentaron. I’m going to take a nap.”

  Teban stared after her, then glanced at Jentaron. “A nap?”

  “She’s ready to move on.” Jentaron looked sad for a moment. Then he slapped Teban in the back of the head.

  “Hey. You’re not so important I can’t spank your ass. I did it to Ranton. I’ll do it to you.” Teban had raised Ranton, now general of the feared dragon legion. He had no problem disciplining their king.

  “For a big brother, you’re acting like a pubescent human. Next time think with something besides your dick. Not only are you poaching on demon territory with James, but a havoc too? We know little about them.”

  “I know plenty.” And what he knew he missed like crazy. The same way he longed for James. Teban rubbed his chest, aware of a fierce ache there. “I need to get back. I’ll fix this.”

  Before he could move, James appeared on the hard ground, broken and bloodied.

  “James.” He hurried to his mate’s side, shocked and worried. “What happened? Where’s Kihra?”

  “They took her,” James said, his eyes smoking even as he teetered toward unconsciousness. “The angels took Kihra. Got to get her…back…” He passed out.

  Jentaron bellowed for Ranton and Eve.

  They returned and Eve raced to James’s side.

  Once Jentaron explained things to Ranton, the legion commander snorted a puff of smoke. “Well, this is a clusterfuck of epic proportions. Way to go, Teban.”

  “You can go—”

  Ranton held up a claw. “Kidding, kidding. Don’t get your tail in a twist. I’ll rally the troops. Time to make another war on the upper realm. Eve, you’ve got Blue.” He nodded toward the dragon king.

  Jentaron sighed. “The least creative code name in the entire lower realm.”

  “I’ve got him.” Eve patted Jentaron’s lower leg, then focused once more on her brother.

  Ranton left, and Eve stroked her brother’s hair, kneeling beside Teban and James.

  “I need to get Kihra back,” Teban said, not sure which mate to help first. He was rattled. A first in his long life.

  Jentaron slapped him on the back. “Easy, brother. Looks like we have the havoc and the angels to deal with. But the havoc I can handle, no problem.”

  Easier said than done, because an hour later, Asael arrived with his assistant, Zelec. The Fallen’s demon wore black skin, black wings and possessed a fierceness that served as one hell of an intimidation tactic. Until one took a look into Asael’s powerful gaze. His nimbus of light alone caused most of those in the lower realm to keep their distance.

  Teban and his brother could give a shit.

  “Eve, you’re looking well.” Asael patted her on the head. “James, not so much. Zelec, if you please.” He motioned for Zelec, and his demon lifted James in his arms with ease.

  “I’ll be taking my son home with me for healing.” He shot Teban a dark look. “I don’t believe you asked for my permission to mate, dragon. He’s still mine.”

  Teban growled. “Bullshit. He’s mi—”

  “Whose permission?” Jentaron interrupted. “You’re in my territory now, Asael. Don’t forget that.”

  “Of course, dragon king.” Asael laughed. “My mistake. Such presence you have for a hatchling barely out of his shell.”

  Shit. Asael wasn’t happy, and Jentaron’s clear fury didn’t bode well for relations in the lower realm. At all.

  “The angels are sowing discontent,” Teban said. “Think on that.”

  Asael didn’t seem to care. “They can sow whatever the hell they want. I couldn’t care less about the upper realm. We’ll talk later, prince. King Jentaron.” Asael didn’t teleport away the way Zelec did. Instead, his eyes blazed, and a flurry of bright wings appeared. Not feathered like an angel’s, but hard and leathery like a demon’s, except blindingly white.

  The bastard lifted in the air and hovered, gave a one-fingered salute, then darted away with a speed the angels had never shown.

  “I really don’t like that creature,” Jentaron said.

  Eve sighed. “Not many do. But he’s family.” She stood and joined her charge. “Now what?”

  “Now we make war on the angels. Hey, it gives Ranton something to do,” Jentaron said by way of explanation. “And it should be fun. I’m going in too, Eve, so you’ll have to stick close, I guess.”

  “Not smart to go to the upper realm.”

  “Well, I’m going,” Teban said. “I have a mate to save.” And another to take back from a seriously lethal fallen angel. Talk about problems.

  “What about the havoc?” Eve asked Jentaron.

  “Yes, my king. What about them?” Teban asked.

  “Come.” Jentaron motioned for Teban and Eve to accompany him as he left the commons. Teban took pride in his little brother looking so regal. So sharp and deadly.

  Not as large as Ranton or Teban in dragon form, Jentaron had an aura of power that clung to him as fiercely as any flame. His blue coloring made him stand out from everyone, and his ability to absorb knowledge continued to stun Teban. Jentaron didn’t just consume magic, he was magic. Born a true king, which was extremely rare. Carmaron had been selected to take the throne due to her cunning and brutality; she hadn’t been born to it.

  Teban gave Eve a ride, so she could better protect her charge. It still amazed him that James’s little sister, Evil Evie, as he liked to call her, was Jentaron’s Guardian. One of two, he reminded himself, hoping Ranton wouldn’t do too much damage to the angels before he got there. Friggin’ Uriel was such a prick. He had to be behind all this. Annua didn’t so much as fart without asking his permission.

  Knowing they’d hurt James and kidnapped Kihra ate away at him. Though many thought Teban mild mannered and charming, he could be wickedly dangerous when threatened. Or enraged. And he felt both right now.

  He followed Jentaron out of the dragon’s hold, past Baphomet Falls and deeper into the unknown territories in the lower realm.

  “Does he know where he’s going?” Eve asked.

  “I hope so.” His brother had been born knowing things. Hell, he’d matured in the span of one day into an adult male, what had taken Ranton and Jentaron a good year to do. And most dragons blossomed into adulthood over the span of a decade.

  They settled down in an area that felt drenched in foreign power.

  A whisper of welcome and recognition flared to life inside him.

  Kingu?

  A vast presence shook the earth, and a crack in the ground formed beneath their feet but didn’t split wider. It continued to move, drawing away from them.

  Teban turned to follow it.

  “Teban?” Jentaron called.

  “This way.”

  “The chieftain’s home is over there.”

  “Perhaps, but this is where I’m meant to go.”

  Jentaron and Eve followed him. “Greens are usually pretty stubborn,” Jentaron explained.

  Eve shrugged. “Well, Ranton’s black, and he’s temperamental.”

  “The blacks are fierce in battle. Ranton can rage like a mother.”

  Teban glanced back at his brother. “Where did you learn to speak like that?” His gaze rested on Eve, and he shook his head. “Never mind.”

  “Oh, hush. You focus on finding the havoc. I’m protecting Jentaron.”

  “Not from slang, apparently.”

  His brother and Eve laughed, and though he was glad they found amusement despite the seriousness of their journey, Teban could feel nothing but angst and fury. His chest ached, heavy with more than just pain, but an isolation from everything. He
hated the feeling, wanted his mates back now.

  “Is he growling again?” Eve whispered to Jentaron.

  “Newly mated dragons will do that. Ranton growled a lot and still does when you’re not around.”

  “Oh.”

  After some time, Teban felt a pull to move faster. When he rounded a sudden rock formation blocking sight of a bloodred field, he understood why. Thousands of havoc stood talking, fighting and readying for battle. All were armed, and all wore strange black face paint that had them looking almost demonic. A lot like Zelec had appeared in his normal form.

  He had no trouble picking Myfere from the group, as he stood taller than anyone else except for those seven giants still circling him. The crack in the ground split faster than Teban could keep up with and stopped at Myfere’s feet.

  Around them, the havoc grew silent.

  Nothing could be heard but the crackling of fire in stone fire pits dotting the landscape as far as the eye could see.

  “This isn’t good,” Eve said under her breath as she and Jentaron caught up to him.

  “Ah, the dragon who stole my sister,” Myfere boomed. “And his puny king.” The chieftain’s eyes glowed like gold. Fascinating to a dragon, and Teban had to shake off the need to draw closer. “Who’s this? The demon whore of the legion general?” Though his voice shouldn’t have been heard over such distance to all the havoc around him, his people laughed in a cacophony of mirth.

  Teban didn’t find him amusing. He blew a small stream of flame that didn’t hit anyone but ended at Myfere’s feet. Don’t kill her brother. Kihra might not like that.

  The warriors surrounding Myfere scowled.

  Teban blew another flame at the group before reining it in, pleased when several males stepped back. “Look, asshole, I’m only here because my brother isn’t keen on going to war with you when we have angels to deal with first. Angels who stole your sister.”

  “We do not have time for lies, lizard,” Myfere said. “We tracked down her last known location and found her in the Ordinary. At the demon’s abode. There was nothing but demon and dragon scent everywhere. As soon as we’re done taking care of you and your kind, we’ll attack the damned. Not the angels.”

 

‹ Prev