The Christmas Dragon's Heart

by Zoe Chant

I love you, she thought. Out loud, she said, “Do it.”

  Chapter Sixteen: Raul

  Inside Raul, the dragon was raging—yearning to burst free and kill the man who was threatening their mate.

  But he couldn’t give in to it. Because to give in would mean the death of both his dragon and himself. It had nearly torn him apart to shift the last time. He wouldn’t survive it again.

  And then his mate would be trapped with a madman with a gun in a maze of ice...

  Warmth suddenly filled him. From deep inside, he heard her voice whisper, “I love you.”

  I love you too, he thought back, praying that it would make it through the bond back to her.

  Then he took a step forward, ignoring his dragon’s anger.

  The opening in the wall of ice had been formed by dragon magic, there was no doubt of that. But it hadn’t been Henrik’s ice dragon that had done it.

  He dimly remembered that Henrik’s uncle had been able to control shadow—and that was exactly what the entrance looked like. A door made out of shadows, leading into utter darkness.

  It was insane. His dragon was as good as powerless—and this was strong dragon magic, guarding the shadow dragon’s hoard. The magic was probably weaker now than it had been when Alistair was still alive—but the protections were still in place.

  His mind told him that it would be suicide to step into that shadow.

  And yet, beneath his own dragon’s rage, there was now a firm pull forward. It was the same sensation that had first led him into this part of the maze.

  Back then, he’d thought that it was his dragon sensing the jewelry that was waiting for the winner of the snowball fight. Now he wondered if his dragon had sensed Alistair’s hoard all along.

  It’s not our hoard. It will never be, he thought ruefully, even though his dragon didn’t listen.

  But his dragon wanted to go in. And for some reason, Claire wanted the same.

  Raul stared at the darkness waiting for him—and then, with a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders and stepped forward.

  Darkness swallowed him utterly. He couldn’t see. With his hands stretched out, he tried to make his way forward.

  And then he felt a touch of ice-cold air.

  It made him shudder. It was as if a shadow had stretched out its hands and tried to grab hold of him.

  He tried to move forward more quickly, but it was difficult to move when he couldn’t see. Was he going forward? Or was he going in circles?

  Another touch came, burning cold against his back this time.

  He shook his head, trying to concentrate at the living flame at the heart of him.

  He was a dragon of fire. Fire meant warmth; fire meant light. No shadow would defeat him.

  But as he hastily moved forward, shadows brushed against him again and again, ghostly cold and without substance whenever he reached out to bat the sensation away.

  He could hear a sound now: a strange, soft roar. The quicker he moved forward, the louder it got.

  Distantly, he felt his dragon’s delight grow—they had to be close to Alistair’s hoard now. Some part of his dragon could sense it: the warmth of the gold, the gleam of jewels, the song they sang which only dragons could hear. Notes of beauty were vibrating through the air, otherworldly harmonies created by the centuries of human adoration for the objects gathered here, from precious coins to tiaras once worn by princesses.

  The feeling was strangely familiar—this was what it had felt like to approach his family’s hoard, back when he’d still been a child.

  For a heartbeat, he was hit by a sharp yearning for the heart of his dragon, which had been lost for so many years. So much time had passed that there were weeks, sometimes even months at a time, when he didn’t think much about the constant, dull ache of loss in his heart.

  Now, the pain surged until it felt like he’d been stabbed in the chest, the absence of his dragon’s heart a bright, red agony inside of him.

  “It’s gone,” he shouted out loud in despair. “Get used to it! We’ll never get it back!”

  And then the shadows attacked once more, ghostly shapes closing in on him until at last, it became impossible to hold back his dragon anymore.

  This time, shifting was an agony so overwhelming that he felt as if he was being torn apart.

  Chapter Seventeen: Claire

  The second Raul stepped through the dark entrance, Claire knew what she had to do. She couldn’t say whether Raul’s gold had put the thought into her mind, or whether it had been there all along.

  But with Malcolm’s attention still focused on the opening through which Raul had just vanished, she concentrated on the heat of the gold around her neck—and then hurled herself forward.

  Malcolm’s head turned around in shock, but it was already too late. She crashed into him before he could fire, shoving both of them into the doorway of darkness.

  And then everything went black.

  She didn’t allow herself time to panic. The gold was glowing against her skin. The heat no longer came in pulses—it was a constant, reassuring warmth now.

  Whatever she’d done, it was what Raul’s gold had wanted her to do. They were exactly where they were supposed to be.

  Only she had no idea where that was, or what she was supposed to do now.

  Go forward, she thought, holding out her hands so that she wouldn’t stumble into walls. Find Raul. Escape together.

  That was easier said than done. The blackness was complete. It wasn’t like a dark night at all, where she was still able to make out shapes and distant, dim light from the corner of her eyes.

  This darkness was like being swallowed alive. There was no light to walk towards. If anything, it felt like she’d arrived at a place that was the utter absence of light, as if the concept itself didn’t even exist here.

  It was terrifying and inhuman.

  But against her skin, there was still the heat of Raul’s gold, and in her heart, there was the small glow of the bond between them.

  There was no light here—but she wasn’t alone. She’d make it out again eventually. And then they’d get their happily ever after, and they’d move to a place with lots of sun.

  Maybe Dubai wouldn’t be so bad after all...

  The thought brought a reluctant smile to her lips. Determined, she went onward. The silence was terrifying—but it was also reassuring. It meant that wherever she was, she was alone. Which also meant that Malcolm wasn’t pointing his gun at her.

  And even if he was in here with her, his gun wouldn’t help him much without light to aim.

  She couldn’t say how long she walked. Maybe only a few minutes passed, but it felt like an eternity. Sometimes, it felt like shadows were rushing past her. Little touches of freezing, black cold made her shiver—but it never lasted for long. She didn’t know how, but something about them gave her the distinct impression that they were preoccupied, as if they were rushing off to somewhere else.

  If this was the shadow dragon’s defense system, it had to be distracted by the presence of a dragon intruder.

  Which was good for her—but if it was true, it meant that right now, Raul might be fighting for his life.

  She swallowed back her terror. Raul’s gold was pulling her steadily forward. It had a purpose here. She had a purpose here, she had to believe that.

  All of a sudden, the path she was following began to lead downward. She chose her steps carefully. She could hear sound now: her steps began to echo, and every now and then, gravel rolled down the path alongside her.

  Sometimes the path turned, and when it did, there would often be a cold breeze brushing against her face, and a distant, dull roar.

  Is that the sound of a dragon...?

  The gold kept drawing her forward, more insistent now. Was Raul in danger?

  She bit back a curse as she walked even faster. Somewhere before her, the darkness seemed to get less dense. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but it almost looked like a distant glow.
/>
  And then suddenly, the ground gave way beneath her, and she began to rapidly slide downward.

  Faster and faster she slid, the path beneath her hard and slick. She heard her own cry of terror echo all around here. The terrifying shadows were surrounding her now—she could almost see them, shapes of darkness that moved as fluidly as water.

  And then the ground beneath her abruptly fell away, and now she was truly falling free.

  The sickening sensation brought back memories of her near-death experience, when only the wings of a dragon had saved her from certain death.

  “Raul,” she cried out in terror.

  Somewhere far above, there was another loud roar. Was that the sound of wings...?

  And then she landed.

  The impact was hard enough to drive the air from her lungs. For a second, she didn’t move. She was certain she was dead. She had to be, after that fall!

  Then, little by little, sensation returned to her aching limbs. She felt sore all over—but she felt alive.

  Tentatively, she moved.

  And whatever she had landed on moved with her.

  It wasn’t sand—it was harder than that. But it was surprisingly difficult to sit up. Whatever she had landed on moved beneath her whenever she tried to get up—which was probably why landing on it had saved her life.

  With a groan, she turned to her side, trying to get a hold on something to drag herself upright. But all her searching hands encountered were small, round pebbles.

  No. Not pebbles.

  She felt beneath her with rising excitement. The pebbles were perfectly round and flat.

  Coins. She’d landed on a giant heap of coins. Which meant that this was...

  “The dragon’s hoard,” she whispered in amazement.

  At the same moment, somewhere above her, light burst into being. It was the hot, orange light of fire. And a second later, she knew what had caused it.

  A dragon came soaring towards her.

  She recognized him in an instant. It was Raul, his powerful, red body beating the air as he came hurtling towards her—followed by what seemed like a dragon made out of shadows.

  Even as she watched, the shadow dragon caught up with Raul. It let out a horrible, otherworldly screech and closed its jaws around one of Raul’s legs.

  Together, they hurtled into a hill of golden coins at the other side of the cave.

  There was light now. Raul’s dragon fire clung to the walls above them, burning on the stark rock without any fuel. And even with her heart pounding in terror, Claire couldn’t help but draw in a startled breath at just what the light revealed.

  She’d landed straight in the dragon’s hoard.

  She was sitting atop another small mountain of golden coins and tiny gems. Around her, everything shimmered and sparkled. There were heavy wooden boxes holding hundreds of beautiful necklaces, and vases of flowers made from gemstones. Close to her, something that looked like an honest-to-God crown had come to land, half buried in the coins. Further away, she could see bowls of gold, a diamond encrusted teapot, and even a few ball gowns that seemed to be embroidered with a thousand different, shimmering pearls.

  Then Raul’s dragon made a sound of rage and pain, and all the gold was forgotten as she turned back towards him.

  He was crouching on the gold. From one of his hind legs, a steady stream of blood was dripping. The shadow dragon was crouching not far away—it was looking definitely translucent now, not so much a shadow as the hue of smoke slowly dispersing in the air.

  But Raul looked just as weakened as the shadow dragon. He was pale—his body was not the bright red she remembered. It was a bleached red at his center, and at his breast, the orange tipped scales had nearly turned white.

  Raul? she thought with terror through the bond.

  He hadn’t thought that he’d survive shifting again—and she’d sent him through the entrance anyway.

  But it was what his gold wanted...

  At that realization, the necklace around her throat began to pulse again, as if to call for her attention.

  Terrified, she looked around. Was there some magical flower hidden in this cave that could heal her mate?

  I’m not a dragon, she thought in despair at her necklace. I’ve watched Beauty and the Beast, that’s all I know about magic and curses!

  The necklace seemed to pull her towards the right—but even now, the shadow dragon seemed to gather itself once more. Raul’s dragon was panting now, blood dripping from his mouth. Through the bond, she could faintly feel his pain and his terror.

  Terror for her. He wasn’t afraid of death—he was afraid of being unable to protect her!

  It’s not fair, she thought and bit back a sob as she determinedly crawled to her left, where the necklace seemed to draw her. I never wanted any of this gold. I don’t want a damn crown—I just want my mate alive and by my side!

  With a surprised cry, she suddenly found herself sliding down the pile of gold, the coins giving way beneath her.

  A heartbeat later, she found herself on the gold covered floor, a sharp diamond digging uncomfortably into her arm.

  And there, right in front of her, Malcolm stood.

  “Well, that was unexpected,” he said. With a nasty smile, he raised his gun. “Though I guess I should thank you. You see, this pretty much went according to plan, even with your meddling. Raul’s going to take out what’s left of Alistair’s defenses—the shadow dragon. And he’s going to die in the process, just as I thought he would. Which leaves me with all the treasure.”

  “What about me?” Claire asked, her mouth dry as she stared at the gun.

  “You’re going to die now. Say goodbye to your mate,” Malcolm said and sneered.

  Before he could pull the trigger, an incredibly loud roar filled the cavern. It made the ground beneath them tremble—and it gave Claire the split second she’d needed to throw herself out of the way.

  Her necklace was painfully hot against her skin. Right, right, right, every throb of heat seemed to say.

  Without daring to look back, she rushed forward on hands and knees, praying that the necklace was right and that there would be something, anything she could use...

  And then, behind her, there was an explosion of dragon fire. It blasted through the cave. Even though she closed her eyes, she could feel the heat and the incredible white-hot glare of it.

  When she opened her eyes again a heartbeat later and turned around in terror, she found Raul’s magnificent body collapsed across the pile of gold she’d first landed on. The shadow dragon was gone—the fire seemed to have completely destroyed it.

  But it hadn’t destroyed Malcolm. His coat looked singed, and his hair was disheveled. Even so, he calmly raised his gun.

  “Let’s just put you out of your misery,” Malcolm said with a breathless laugh.

  The necklace burst into heat so sudden and bright that she had to bite back her cry of pain. It was as if another power had taken over. She watched as her hand stretched out, reaching towards a tiny box of mother-of-pearl that rested forgotten on the floor, half-covered by a necklace of amethyst.

  But even as her hand closed around it, she knew that it was too late. There was the sound of a shot, and the cry of pain she’d heard once before, when the shadow dragon had sank its teeth into Raul’s legs.

  Tears were streaming down her face.

  Don’t leave me, she thought desperately, listening inside of her for the bond that connected their hearts. Raul! Don’t leave me!

  Raul’s gold was still painfully hot. As much as she needed to be by Raul’s side, whatever power was making use of her had not lost its grip on her mind. Even as she pleaded with it to be allowed to at least die by her mate’s side, she watched her hands open the tiny box.

  A jewel was hidden inside. Its size was impressive—it was the size of a walnut. But that was the only thing extraordinary about it. It was dull, without the many facets reflecting the light that she was used to.

  She h
eard herself sob in disappointment. Despite everything she’d allowed herself to believe that she’d find a magical weapon, or perhaps a magical flower that would heal her mate.

  Instead, all she’d found was a trinket that looked like it didn’t even belong in a dragon’s hoard.

  Angrily, she fought back the gold’s influence. She reached into the box and grabbed hold of the jewel, tears still freely running down her face as she prepared to angrily fling it away.

  But as soon as her fingers touched it, an incredible wave of heat seemed to surge up inside her.

  No—not just inside her. It filled the entire cave. Energy began to sizzle between the piles of gold. Gemstones gleamed brightly, reflecting a brilliant light even though moments ago, Raul’s dragon fire above them had begun to dim.

  With her mouth open in shock, Claire turned around—and was met by the sight of Raul’s dragon eyes opening, focusing on her.

  Slowly, he sat up. There was a gunshot wound in his chest from which blood had run. As she watched, the wound rapidly closed. Moments later, the wounds the shadow dragon had left vanished as well.

  The scales that moments ago had been bleached nearly to a deadly white suddenly glowed with color. It was a red that kept deepening, until it was as brilliant as a living flame.

  Raul roared and spread his wings. And in her head, she heard his voice, loud and clear.

  You’ve found my dragon’s heart, he said. You’ve found my family’s treasure! At last, my dragon is whole again!

  Laughing and crying simultaneously, she moved towards him. The sensation was incredible—power was flowing freely between them, the bond pulsing with sensation. She could feel him as clearly as never before: his power, his gratitude, and his love wrapping all around her like layers of brilliant diamonds, strong and beautiful.

  And then there was the sound of golden coins skidding away. A heartbeat later, Malcolm frantically steadied himself against a large, golden vase—pointing his gun straight at her once more.

  “Don’t come closer,” he shouted, his voice hysterically high. “Maybe I can’t hurt you—but I can kill her. She’s no dragon!”