Heart of the Dragon (The Lost Royals Saga Book 3)

by Rachel Jonas

  “Dude, you’re way past your prime,” Nick assured him with a laugh. “Last I checked, my stats were killing yours.”

  “I just hope neither of you set yourself on fire,” Ben, being the sensible one of the brood, mumbled under his breath.

  “Either way,” Richie cut in with a sigh, “We plan to take out a good chunk of ‘em before we even get close. Then, whoever’s left standing, we handle them.”

  He was so confident, so sure we could do this. Hearing him, I actually started believing it myself.

  We walked those woods for an hour, wandering with my link to Liam and landmarks the Chancellor jotted down as our only compass. Eventually, we picked up on sounds other than our own feet crunching through the snow and the occasional gust of wind howling past.

  There were voices.

  Laughter.

  Heat built within me at the sound of it, these men lighthearted and carefree. Meanwhile, Liam was barely clinging to life a short distance away. The closer we got, the louder they got, the more enraged I became.

  The steep pitches of a sprawling estate came into view and we were still pretty far from the makeshift camp Sebastian’s men had set up. Nearing the edge of the property, a few had been assigned to patrol the perimeter. As soon as we spotted them, we slowed our pace, crouching to keep ourselves hidden behind the trunk of a massive, fallen tree.

  “What now?” Nick whispered, thankfully directing the question toward Richie, because I had no clue.

  “We have to take these guys out before they alert the others. And it has to be done quietly,” he added.

  “I’ve got this one,” Dallas whispered, keeping his eyes trained on the guard straight ahead. “Richie, Ben … you guys get the other two and make it quick. If they shift or howl, the others will know something’s coming, and if that happens, we’re as good as dead,” he stated.

  Ben and Richie nodded, spotting their marks as they lifted from the snow. The three shot out in all directions, moving with impossible speed. Within seconds, they were upon the unsuspecting guards, and with military-like precision, their necks were snapped just before their bodies dropped to the snow.

  Dallas waved the rest of us ahead and we moved forward as a group again.

  With the wind at our backs, and the height of the snow rising as we ascended the steepening slope of Mount Arvon, we pushed ahead, finally spotting the camp we first heard miles away. There were tents sprawled across the plot of land belonging to a member of the High Council, the only way he could accommodate his uninvited guests—the Sovereign and his men.

  Bonfires had been lit around the camp. Nearby, damp clothes dried on lines, some cooked meat over the flames, others just sat close for warmth. But the one thing I didn’t see was the Sovereign.

  Of course he wouldn’t be out here roughing it. If I had to guess, he and his witches were nice and cozy inside where he could keep close watch on his latest acquisition—Liam.

  My stomach rolled and I felt anxious, ready to get to him, ready to look fate in the eye and dare it to try and stop me from succeeding.

  “All right. There have to be more of those lycans wandering these outskirts and it’s just a matter of time until they find us. So, we have to move quickly,” Dallas explained, surveying our surroundings.

  The prompt had Kyle eagerly lowering his bag to the snow. From it, he removed the first bottle, confirming what I already guessed. He placed it, and several others, onto the ground while Ben opened them. Next, Kyle grabbed strips of old t-shirts he’d cut up in preparation for this moment. He stuffed half inside each bottle, leaving the remainder of the swatch resting over the neck. After he got it all set up, he patted his pockets and a look of sheer dread filled his expression.

  “Crap, I forgot my freakin’ lighter.”

  My brow quirked as I stared at him, wondering if he’d forgotten there were dragons in the midst.

  “I think we’ve got you covered when it comes to fire,” Dallas chuckled. The next second, his finger glowed as a flame danced on the tip. Kyle touched the rag of the first bottle to it until it lit, handing it off to Nick. Then, he lit his own and there was no missing the excitement in his eyes as he turned to his brother.

  “Ready?” he beamed.

  “Watch and learn, big bro,” Nick teased.

  And then, in a display of the sheer strength these two possessed, those bottles whizzed through the air like screaming rockets, blasting two small groups of unsuspecting lycans. They went up in a beautiful, glorious blaze. I wasn’t ashamed by the satisfaction that filled me as they ran and screamed in vain. No one could help them. In fact, the others purposely moved away to avoid the same fate. But that was impossible because, as they scattered, unsure of where the attack had come from, Nick and Ben fired off more, bottle after bottle, targeting the densest clusters of lycans until we’d taken out around fifty.

  Seeing their numbers diminish so quickly made that sense of hope within me grow even more, spreading like sunlight on the horizon.

  “Should we move ahead?” Kyle asked, aiming his question at both Richie and Dallas.

  Richie surveyed the scene, the damage we’d done so far, how quickly the remaining lycans reorganized themselves as they scanned the woods for their attackers.

  “Our best bet is to push forward as long as we can. Chances are, we’ll only get one last round fired off before they nail down our location. So, make it count.”

  That was all his brothers needed to hear, each one taking a bottle this time, handing more to Lucas and Chris. They lined up their targets and cocked back, waiting for Richie to give the word. Dallas, however, had his sights set elsewhere, trained on something—a young girl with dark hair who trudged toward us. With fury in her eyes, she covered her head with the hood of a dark cloak.

  “Time’s up,” Dallas mumbled under his breath, just before a command ripped from his throat and overshadowed Richie’s authority. At the sound of a roaring, “Fire now!” the guys did just that. They launched the bottles, hurling through the air toward their intended targets.

  My heart dropped as I watched, counting every precious millisecond as they passed. Watching the lycans scramble, they seemed so small now, so much less frightening than when they cornered me in the woods the day before. Then, I’d been alone and afraid. Now, with backup, the playing field was slightly less skewed in their favor.

  Slightly.

  My eyes flitted from the carnage unfolding outside the sprawling mansion of the High Council member whose land we so callously invaded. While I was sure he or she had no real part to play in Sebastian capturing Liam, nor in the decision for him and his men to stay here indefinitely, I still couldn’t afford to care one way or another. These men, these monsters … they deserved whatever they had coming to them.

  I swallowed as the cocktails came within a few feet of the lycans—six bottles that, together, could have taken out thirty or more.

  … Could have.

  Had it not been for a small, pale hand lifting into the air. It was the witch. In an instant, the bottles slowed to a gentle stop, hovering in midair as our small group of nine stared on. The others were likely experiencing the same sense of dread I had way deep down in my gut. In that short time, a thousand thoughts passed through my head, but each one was washed away by Dallas’ loud, booming voice when he yelled.

  “Take cover!”

  The warning came just before what looked like a storm of fireballs rushed toward us, the result of the six Molotov cocktails soaring back in our direction.

  “Evie! Wings!” he yelled next, leaving me confused for only a moment before he leapt over the fallen tree that had once been our covering, moving toward danger instead of away from it. Ripping the shirt from his torso, large, flaming wings stretched from Dallas’ back.

  Like a shield.

  And now I understood.

  Warm breath puffed from my lips, crystalizing in the air as I snatched my shirt over my head—too little time to think, too little time to prepare. I stoo
d beside Dallas, now wearing only my tank, bracing myself as the forceful thrust of my wings springing forth shifted my feet in the snow. Their bright orange light glinted off the sparkling white flakes that covered every inch of the earth for miles. The goal in mind was not to protect ourselves from the inevitable blast … but to protect the others.

  A rush of heat blasted Dallas and I from behind and my teeth gritted. Shards of the multicolored bottles we’d thrown were flung back in our direction at twice the speed, twice the intensity, breaking skin.

  Dallas groaned at the feel of it as the seemingly unending stream of heat and glass surged against us. But we withstood the pain.

  I caught a set of blue eyes as I blinked through the initial shock and sheer force exuded by the witch’s maneuver. It was a show of strength that made our coming here resemble a suicide mission all the more. Nick’s jaw clenched as he watched me breathe through the agony. The fire itself was of no consequence; my body absorbed the flames like a sponge in water, but I couldn’t say the same for the glass. Long shards pierced my skin, sending warm trickles of blood streaming down my shoulders, back, and arms. I muffled a scream, holding it in as my dragon cried out from within, sending that familiar pulse from my chest, vibrating through an invisible thread. A sensation I knew would never reach Liam.

  Not like usual.

  Not this time.

  “We have to move,” Richie called out, motioning his hand toward a dense section where we could hide among the trees as we inched our way closer to the estate, closer to our intended target.

  Closer to Liam.

  My wings retracted, unharmed by the attack, but I couldn’t say the same for my back. Dallas’ had endured the same abuse and seemed to be unfazed by it. I felt no shame admitting he was stronger than I was. It was clear as he carried on as though nothing happened. Meanwhile, I was near tears.

  But you have to keep moving. There’s no time for crying. No time for pity.

  Swiping at the water spilling over my lower lids, I hurried along with the others, praying for just one quiet moment to think, to figure out our next move, but that moment never arrived. At the feel of bark against my fingertips, I hid myself behind a massive trunk, one fifteen to twenty feet closer to our target. Nick ran up beside me, panting as his brothers, Chris, Lucas, Beth, and Dallas followed, crouching low while getting eyes on the witch again.

  Standing there, staring at them all as they willingly headed into the lion’s den with me, I realized this would never work. Now that one of Sebastian’s witches knew where we were, our chances of getting inside were next to impossible. She’d already shown us how easily she could take out our group, all with one swipe of her hand. There was no way she would allow us to pass, no way we could get close enough with her standing guard.

  So … I needed to get rid of her.

  Breathing deep as I peered around the trunk that hid me, I spotted her among the mass of lycans that charged toward us. She came closer, no doubt plotting her next attack.

  “They’re coming,” I panted. “Focus on taking them out while I take care of the witch,” I whispered, moving my feet the second Dallas gave a confused nod. The next second, shirts and shoes were tossed to the snow as the lycans among us prepared to shift

  I showed myself, facing the witch. Our eyes locked, mine with the one who stood by a day ago while Sebastian’s men ogled me after cornering me in the woods, the one who protected these grotesque lycans as they brought Liam to this place to die.

  Two burly beasts rushed toward me and I was startled by the lack of fear that rose within. There was never even a moment of doubt or worry as I stayed heavily focused on my target.

  Dark fur filled my hands when I grabbed the first by his neck and slammed him against a nearby tree. Flames burst from my fingertips, igniting his entire body in a matter of seconds. I held him there, pressing him into the bark as he screamed and writhed, taking his last breath while I stared into his cold eyes.

  A strange sense of calm rage filled me, helping me focus on the task at hand, making me fearless and yet level-headed at the same time.

  The body of the lycan I’d taken on fell to the ground in a charred heap. I turned to handle the other, but Dallas beat me to it, wiping blood onto his jeans as more poured from an empty cavity in the beast’s chest. A still-beating heart lie in the otherwise pristine snow.

  My hands tightened into fists as I locked in on the witch again. A faint smile was set on her lips. There was no doubt in my mind that she could already taste victory with each step I took toward her. She, like every other witch I’d encountered besides Hilda, was drunk with power. Drunk with the knowledge that time was her only mortal enemy on Earth. It was the one thing her kind could not conquer, but even for that, they found a loophole by developing their codependent bond with the lycan race.

  So, as far as she knew, she and others like her were infallible.

  She stared with that sickening smile and a gleam in her eyes as she lifted both hands into the frigid air, no doubt feeling them pulse with dark energy, fully intent on wielding her magic against me.

  Only to realize … it had absolutely no effect.

  Wind whipped my cheeks as I charged toward her, full-steam ahead as my limbs blazed like the surface of the sun. I’d never moved so fast, not even as my wolf. Today, with so much on the line, my dragon’s strength seemed almost too powerful to harness.

  Falling snow evaporated like steam before touching my skin. The bewildered expression on the face of Sebastian’s witch filled me with so much satisfaction. She’d never met a dragon like me, I was sure. However, as luck would have it, she would never meet another soul again … because I intended to destroy her.

  The stench of evil filled my nostrils as I brought her feeble frame to the ground with ease. Soft flesh and a delicate neck in the bend of my elbow, I squeezed, feeling her windpipe constrict as I tightened my grip. The rage … it flowed through me and I felt high, intoxicated as life slipped from the witch’s grasp. Hearing the last hiss of breath leaving her lungs, I let go, leaving her there to freeze in the snow, a reminder to the lycans who fought on her side that our dismal numbers didn’t mean we’d be easy to beat.

  To my left, Beth and Chris were putting their training to good use. Three lycans lie dead in the snow while the two they tossed around like ragdolls staggered back to their feet. To my right, a large silvery lycan, one who dwarfed the others, unclamped his teeth to spit torn flesh to the ground before going in for another kill.

  Progress.

  We were actually making progress.

  Locking eyes with another lycan, I stepped toward him, ready to put him down like we’d done to the others, but instead … my body crumpled to the snow.

  —Chapter Eighteen—

  Evie

  Dazed.

  Blurred vision.

  A dizzying sting that radiated from the back of my head.

  I couldn’t think or see straight. Couldn’t form a single, lucid thought.

  But I was sure I recognize a voice.

  “Grab her arms and feet,” he crooned. “I’m sure the Sovereign will be pleased to see he’s got another dragon to dissect.”

  I still hadn’t placed the voice, but those words were sobering, made the fog clear just a tad.

  Dissect.

  He said the Sovereign would be pleased to have another dragon to dissect.

  Liam … what had they done to him?

  I squirmed, but my effort was in vain. Brief flashes of my surroundings made my heart race as I watched Dallas, Nick, and the others deep in the heat of battle. They were too preoccupied to notice I’d been hit, too focused to notice I was being taken away.

  As my body was carried, we passed beneath naked branches that created a canopy above. They arched across the sky like bony fingers waiting to pluck me from my captors’ hands.

  What I would’ve given for that to have been true.

  We were headed to the estate, no doubt—myself and the two who hauled me
through the snow, the tall figure in a dark trench coat who walked beside us. I squinted as I fought to cling to consciousness, only now making out his features.

  It was Blaise, the Sovereign’s son.

  Wet heat seeped through the back of my hair and I was sure a trail of blood had dotted the snow. I was losing consciousness quickly, but was determined to stay awake, determined to take note of the path we took. Thinking that maybe, by some small miracle, I might get free and would need to know how to escape.

  Warmth and darkness were temporarily disorienting after Blaise pushed a heavy, wooden door ajar, letting the lycans pass through with me in tow. The stench of witches stung my nose and overpowered any other scent the home might have held. Dark stone walls I guessed dated back to the home’s construction absorbed the light from a small lamp perched on a table.

  “Downstairs.”

  I repeated that word over and over in my head.

  Downstairs. Downstairs. Downstairs.

  This door we’d just come through was near a set of steps, so if I could just make my way back to them, freedom was only a few feet away.

  Don’t forget. Don’t forget.

  My eyes drifted closed again and I forced them open when we began to descend. It was so dark, like we waded through ink.

  Right turn.

  Left turn.

  Sound transitioned from echoing off the walls of a hollow, open space, to a confined hallway.

  Keys.

  A heavy door opening.

  For a nanosecond, I was airborne, but then hit the ground with a violent thud. My body slid across the small room before my captors engaged a metal latch and walked away laughing as a scream spilled from my mouth. Remains from the glass bottles that had been hurled at Dallas and I were forced deeper into the skin. However, that paled in comparison to the surge of fresh pain that pulsed through my head when the wound beneath my hair struck the leg of a nearby chair. I whimpered as I clutched it, feeling the stickiness of blood coating my fingers. For a moment, the agony, along with the heavy sense of defeat, made me wish for death.