Grigori: A Royal Dragon Romance (Brothers of Ash and Fire)
Page 17
Grigori stood at the edge of a lake, a tiny pool tucked between two close mountains whose sides had long ago crumbled together. Three small waterfalls poured into the surface of the blue-green waters, making tiny ripples. The falls were so clear they appeared to be sheets of glass, gracefully flowing over the rocks above. A fallen tree, the bark stark white, lay across the lake. Tiny fish darted around the shallows, their grey-brown bodies sleek and beautiful as they cut back and forth in the completely visible water. Madelyn could see clear to the bottom of the lake.
“Grigori.” She was overwhelmed with the glory of the sight before her. But she was even more overwhelmed at what he’d said. She was pregnant? He’d told her that dragons could only mate with other dragons . . .
He set his backpack down and stripped out of his shirt and jeans, leaving only his briefs on. When he stepped towards the shallows, he held out a hand.
“Come into the water with me.”
How could she ever deny that man anything? She set her own bag down and stripped out of her clothes until she was only wearing a black bra and lacy black panties. Then she laughed as he dove into the lake and she ran after him, squealing in surprise at the cool water. It wasn’t cold but it made her jump. The air around them was warm and the cool water felt like heaven.
Grigori caught her in his arms and they swam to the fallen log. The bark was smooth as Madelyn wrapped her hands around it.
“Tell me what you meant about the drakelings. I thought you and I wouldn’t be able to . . . have children.” She lightly treaded water, watching Grigori’s blue eyes which matched the waters of the lake.
“As you know,” he leaned in close to her, one hand on her hip, stroking her bare skin with teasing touches. “Dragons have a strong sense of smell.”
“O—kay.” She drew out the word into two syllables, her heart pounding.
“And a pregnant dragoness carries a certain sent.”
“But I’m not a dragoness.”
His playful gaze turned intense. “The scent is unmistakable.”
“So you’re telling me that I’m really . . .” She was afraid to even say the word. Too much hope hung on the thought. She’d been ready to live the rest of her life with him and never have children, but now . . . it was as though everything she could have wished for some day was possible.
“We are expecting.” When he said it, she could heard the awe and excitement in his slightly breathless words.
“Oh my God.” She felt like an idiot. She hadn’t been careful—she hadn’t even thought to ask about condoms after he’d told her only dragons could produce children with other dragons. She’d been so careless and—
“Madelyn, what’s the matter?” Grigori cupped her cheek, his eyes clouded with worry. “You don’t want a baby?”
“It’s not that, but . . . We only just met and this has been an insane roller coaster emotionally for me.” She shifted her grip on the log and tried to collect herself.
I’m pregnant with a dragon shifter’s baby and I’ve only known him less than a week. I’m the last of my kind and . . . It was just too much.
“Madelyn,” he murmured before she could protest, he lifted her up to sit on the log and joined her. The ancient wood held their weight. Fish darted forward to nibble at their toes. Grigori wound an arm around her waist and she laid her head on his shoulder as they watched the waterfalls
“I know it seems so fast to you, but I’ve waited almost three millennia to find you and start a life with you. I wish I had seduced you slowly, but a dragon is often impatient.” He sighed, the sound tugging at her heartstrings.
“I was planning to propose to you out here, but if you aren’t ready, I won’t—”
“Propose?” Once again her heart was racing.
He brushed his wet hair out of his eyes and nodded. “I was hoping you’d see fit to take me as a mate, in an official sense. Dragons do love the pomp and circumstance of weddings.”
When she still wasn’t able to answer, he turned her face to his, their mouths mere breaths apart.
“What I promise you is a vow of love and loyalty. A vow to never leave you. Mates become one beating heart, one infinite soul.” The truth of every single word was in his eyes, and in that moment she didn’t want to do the safe thing. She wanted to make a leap of faith and start a life with him right away. There was no point in waiting and taking things slow, not when she trusted him.
“Okay. Yes.” She bit her bottom lip, feeling shy and excited. This man could make her feel like a virgin all over again even when sex wasn’t involved.
“Thank the gods.” His face glowed as he kissed her soundly. Then he pulled her off the log and swam into the shallows. He stood just waist high in the water, holding her against him, her legs wrapped around his hips as they kissed. Madelyn lost herself in the wonder and bliss of the feel of his strong hands exploring her back and her bottom, the way his lips were sweet but had a hint of salt, and how they seemed to share each breath during that long, exquisite kiss.
One beating heart, one infinite soul . . . and a leap of faith.
It was a long while before they climbed out of the water and sunned themselves on the sandstone rocks bordering the hidden lake.
“What about you?” Grigori asked softly. She lay sprawled out on top of him, her head on his chest, the sun kissing their bare skin.
“Hmm?” She didn’t open her eyes. This was too good a dream to let reality intrude.
“If you could go back in time, who would you want to meet?”
She thought it over for a long moment. “Aside from you?”
His rough chuckle poured over her like fine bourbon. “Yes, aside from me.”
“The Romanovs. I’d want to meet Anastasia. I love history, and when I first learned about her she fascinated me.” To meet a young woman who would also be the last of her kind . . . It was hard to explain, but she felt like a kindred spirit to that girl somehow. She knew it must be painful for Grigori to think about them but she wanted only honesty between them.
“Do you know why dragons are obsessed with gems? Aside from their purity?” he asked, his tone soft and almost sad.
“Why?” She lifted her head and propped her chin on his chest to gaze at him.
“Long ago,” he began to trace lazy swirling patterns on her back. “Dragons hoarded jewels and lay upon them in their caves. When they were vigilant they would stay in one position for a long time on the gemstones and the weight of their bodies pressed the jewels into their underbellies. When they rose from guarding their hoard, the treasure remained on their stomachs, forming a shield and protecting its underbelly, which is its weakest spot.” His gaze drifted to the trees, but his focus was distant.
“The Bolsheviks led by Yakov Yurovsky feared the White Army would save the royal family. I sent word through enemy lines to a trusted friend who warned the royal family that they must take precautions until Rurik, my father and I could arrive. I told them to take the jewels we sent as gifts and sew them into their clothes. I had hoped they would act as a shield against any attacks the family might face until we could save them. The family was taken into a basement and murdered. Diamonds slowed the bullets, but the smoke cleared and they were still alive, so the soldiers stabbed them with bayonets. Olga, Maria, Anastasia . . . they were shot in the head one at a time . . . each of them bleeding out upon the floor waiting to die, unable to fight . . .” The words cracked as they came out and Madelyn could feel every beat of her mate’s breaking heart.
“Grigori,” she whispered, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.
“I gave them what I thought would help them, but they died horrible, agonizing deaths, because Lenin and his fools believed their communist cause could not survive a living banner for the White Army and its supporters. In all my years upon this earth, the death of the Romanovs have haunted me above all else.” Grigori’s blue eyes were shining with unshed tears.
“You did everything you could. You didn’t know.”
“If you ever need to know why I love you, Grigori Barinov, remember this moment. This is why I love you. This noble, bruised and beating heart carries so much pain and love for others.”
He rubbed her back, his breath coming out slowly as though he’d been holding it in for a century.
“And I love you. For once in all my years, I have something that was made for me and is mine to cherish. The universe designed you among the stars and let you fall into my arms.”
She slid up his body and leaned over him, smiling.
“A dragon poet,” she teased, but his words filled her with a heady sense of belonging and pure joy.
“A man in love,” he corrected, completely serious.
“Very well, then I suggest we dress and get back to the house. I think I’m missing our bed.”
“And my proposal? You really will marry me? Be my mate in the mortal way?” He helped her to stand out on the rock. She wrapped her arms around his chest and looked into his eyes.
“It’s going to be difficult explaining to my parents that I’m getting married to a sexy stranger and moving to Russia.”
He frowned. “You don’t have to leave your home—”
“I want to. Michigan is wonderful, but . . .” How could she explain it? She felt like she belonged here, in the fire hills. The life she had, it was the one that had always felt like a struggle. Like she’d been lost in her mediocrity and now she had the chance to matter.
“The Fire Hills feels like home, and I really didn’t like some of the aspects of my job. I mean, I love teaching, but now that I know the truth about dragons I don’t know if I could ever go back to that life.” She laughed, but he was staring at her seriously.
He pondered her words a long moment. “If you love teaching and don’t mind working on your Russian, we have a few small schools just on the other side of the hills that could use an extra teacher.”
Teaching little Russian children? Suddenly she couldn’t stop grinning and stood on her tiptoes to steal a kiss.
“It’s time I stop being so afraid of life. I want to live with you.” She trailed a hand down one of his muscled arms and he chuckled.
“I think you are right, we need to get back to our bed.”
They climbed off the rocks and darted over the pebbled beach back to their clothes. Madelyn got dressed first and when she finished, she found Grigori standing there in his jeans, simply watching her with hungry eyes.
“What you say we—”
A twig snapped behind her, and she jumped.
“Hello, Grigori.” A cold voice cut through the air, and Madelyn’s spine stiffened. She knew that voice. It was Dimitri Drakor. She turned slowly to look behind her towards the woods.
“What are you doing in my valley, Drakor?” Grigori demanded.
“I’m here to make sure that our fight is even. Your brother stole something precious from me. It’s only fair I do it to you.” He reached into his black leather jacket and pulled out a handgun.
“Drakor . . .” Grigori growled in warning. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Oh it’s not for her, it’s for you. I can’t have you coming after me. A bullet will slow you down.” Then he fired.
The explosive sound ricocheted off the valley walls around the waters of the lake. Madelyn couldn’t even scream. It had all happened so fast . . .
“Drakor,” A choked voice sent terror shooting through her. She turned and saw Grigori fall to his knees, clutching his abdomen.
“Grigori!” Finally a scream worked its way out of her and she started to run to him. Something caught her by the arm and she skidded to a halt.
“Not so fast. You’re coming with me,” Drakor growled.
Madelyn spun and punched him. Her hand felt like she’d broken a few bones but it had been worth it. Drakor dropped the gun and it clattered away from them across the rocky beach. In that moment when he let her go, she had two choices. Fight or flee. The old Madelyn would have run but she wasn’t the woman she used to be . . .
She kicked him hard in the back as he tried to dive for his gun. He hit the ground flat on his stomach, grunting hard and then cursing. Madelyn dodged his body as she tried to grab the gun. One of his hands locked around her ankle and she fell hard, the wind knocked from her lungs.
“Got you!” he snarled, and dragged her toward him a few feet. Her palms scraped along the rocks and dirt lining the pebbled beach.
She kicked back, crunching his face with her boot. He howled and the hand holding her ankle seemed to burn like fire through her jeans. A scream escaped her lips as her skin was in agony with the heat. Frantic, she lashed out another kick, and his grip loosened so she scrambled to her feet. But he was right on her heels. Madelyn knew she couldn’t outrun him, but she could fight . . .
Spinning, she threw out her fist again, and landed another blow to his face, stunning him momentarily.
“You bitch!” He roared and swung a balled fist at her head. The thunderbird started to rise up inside her, but it was too late. The instant Drakor’s fist connected with her face, everything went dark.
Chapter 16
If you are still here with me, if in this darkness
there is still some place where your spirit resonates
on the shallow soundwaves stirred up by my voice:
hear me; help me.
—Rainer Maria Rilke
Pain radiated from radiated from Grigori’s stomach as he hunched over. His hands clawed into the dirt as he tried to swallow his dragon’s roar in his throat. He raised his head, staring at Drakor. Madelyn lay on the ground, unmoving. Oh gods, not his mate . . .
“No!” He started to shift, letting the beast take over.
Drakor scrambled to pick up the gun and fired at Grigori a second time. Grigori dodged but he wasn’t fast enough, the bullet struck his shoulder and he fell back, panting and grunting with vicious impact of the bullet. His vison cartwheeled as he tried to right himself. A shadow fell over him and he looked up, his body trembling as his dragon struggled to break free through the pain. Drakor stood over him.
“If you’re brave enough, you can retrieve what’s left of your mate in two days at the border.” Then Drakor kicked Grigori’s face and darkness swallowed him up.
When he woke it was hours later. The shadows of night were seeping along the horizon turning it a dark purple. His mind was fuzzy and he licked his dry lips, tasting blood from a split lip. Every part of his body hurt.
What the hell had happened to him?
It took him several long seconds before the memories of the afternoon returned. Drakor looming over him, kicking him, the gunshots and his mate lying still as death on the ground.
“Madelyn!” He gasped her name and clutched his stomach. He had to shift in order to heal. He let the beast come surging to the surface, but he was too wounded to fully transform.
I must reach Rurik . . . he threw up one bloodied hand and let a jet of fire hit a copse of nearby trees. They exploded in flames and the black smoke began to plume upward. He hoped his brother would see the signal. Every bone in his body wanted him to collapse back onto the ground, but his heart refused.
Drakor had taken Madelyn. Grigori had to get up, had to save her. He got to his feet, stumbling slightly as he pressed his hand to his stomach.
Several long minutes later the hum of the car’s engine and gravel spitting under tires roused Grigori. He peered hopefully through the trees at the vehicle skidding to a halt close by. Rurik slammed the Range Rover into park and rushed toward him.
“Grigori? What happened? Where’s Madelyn?” His brother threw one of Grigori’s arms over his shoulder and helped him back to the rover.
“Drakor. He came upon us
by the lake. He shot me and took her. He said to meet him at the border in two days.” To get what’s left of your mate . . . The awful words sent chills through him.
“That bastard. I’ll rip his entrails out and use them as a necklace,” Rurik snarled as he helped Grigori into the back of the Range Rover.
“Just drive . . .” Grigori ordered as he lay back, still bleeding. He put one hand over his abdomen, feeling the blood still oozing between his fingers. Fuck . . . He was in no condition to fight in a battle of honor or for his mate, but he had to. He would find her and save her.
Rurik slammed down on the gas pedal and took careening turns as he hit the sharp winding path back to the main road. Grigori closed his eyes, deepened his breath and try to remain calm. It wouldn’t help Madelyn if he fell apart now. She was alive. He would know if she’d . . . He didn’t finish that thought. It was too dangerous to even think about it.
Neither he nor Rurik spoke until they reached the house and then it was only to talk to the servants. They headed to the nearest bathroom. His wounds didn’t appear to be fatal. It took a lot to kill a dragon and Drakor knew just how far to push it.
So why didn’t he kill me then and there? He could have finished me off.
Was there still some remnant of honor inside that black-scaled bastard or was he coward enough to want to drag it out in a battle with clearly uneven odds?
“Here, let me see.” Rurik shoved Grigori down to sit on the edge of his bathtub and studied the two wounds.
“The shoulder’s a clean shot,” Rurik said, and then bent lower to check Grigori’s abdomen. “Another clean shot, thank the gods. Looks like the bullet went out the other side. Did you try to shift?”
Grigori nodded. “Tried to, but couldn’t. Too weak.” He hated admitting any kind of weakness, especially to his baby brother, but he couldn’t keep a secret like that from him. Not when they were in danger of losing the upcoming battle to the Drakors.
“Rurik . . .” Grigori sighed, and the movement made him wince.
“I’m sorry,” Rurik said, their eyes meeting briefly. “It’s going to hurt like hell when I clean this.”