Loving Two Dragons (Awakening Cycle Part 3) (BBW Dragon Shifter Paranormal Romance)

by James D. Horton

  My four opponents retreat and begin a game of feints and dodges. If I extend myself to catch one of them the other three connect with tooth or claw. Small wounds begin adding up so I climb higher retreating. They follow as I climb higher and higher. The air grows thinner and two of them are unable to maintain their ascent but still I fly. My wings grasp at the shreds of air. The sky around us darkens as I continue the climb and then there's only one well ahead of the others. I whip around, folding my wings, dropping towards him like a bullet.

  The shock on his features is apparent as I slam into him. I hit with such impact for a moment everything is black with a dim awareness of falling. Shaking it off I attack, claw and tooth, seeking any purchase. He's frantic, scrabbling. My ears fill with the rush of air going past and the sound of scraping on scales, then my teeth find purchase at the base of his neck and he's mine. One twist of my head and a satisfying crunch. I spread my wings catching the air and my enemy falls broken to the earth below.

  "ARCHER!"

  A voice booms through the air cutting through the dragon, the rushing air, the pounding of my fiery heart in my chest. I wheel around and come face to face with Dracul in his full dragon form. A giant red dragon only slightly smaller than myself he is covered with the scars of thousands of battles. He's one of our greatest warriors. Flying up beside him is all of the Council and they surround me.

  "You must stop, now, this is unauthorized and a breach of territory!" Dracul says.

  I roar. "They killed her!"

  I don't wait for him to answer. I have one chance only. The Kings of Dragons surrounding me are not run of the mill soldiers. Against one or two of them I might win but not the full assembly. Fast as light I whip towards Dracul, if I can get his neck, I can force the others to stand down.

  Pain - stabbing - shocking - my muscles won't respond. Everything stiffens refusing my commands. Everything is going gray.

  I whip around, writhing, trying to find my way free but the shocking sensations tighten around my body forcing me into a smaller and smaller space. My wings close and I'm falling. The ground approaches closer and closer until I slam into it creating a crater around my impact. Still the shocking and stabbing pain continues until I have no choice but to shift forms as it continues to squeeze me.

  As I shift, bolts of purple electricity play over my form. The smaller I grow inside the bolts they begin to take on a shape until at last I'm a man in a cage made of glowing purple energy. I'm at the mercy of the Council.

  ***

  Failed.

  Silence reigns as I'm wheeled into the Council Chambers, bound in chains that wrap around my torso. Others bind my arms together and there's a hood over my head. I'm on a cart to allow them to move me easily. One wheel squeaks breaking the quiet.

  Acid builds in my stomach, replacing the warm fire with a sick ache.

  Close. I was so close. It doesn't matter. She's dead. Again.

  This will break the cycle. If I can negotiate Logan's release, he will be there for her when she returns. My chest constricts at the thought but my mind opens with the idea. He'll care for her. They'll be happy. Maybe they can have a child again. A family.

  The cart comes to a halt as a smile spreads across my face. The hood is ripped from me. I blink at the bright lights assaulting my eyes after the darkness. The Council is seated before me. I look down at the chains I'm bound in, purple magic crackles along the links, I'm on my knees before them. Something breaks inside.

  "Archer Ddraig, King of the Golds," King Dracul intones. "You have broken your trust. The trust given you by this Council, by your people, by the nature of what you are and through that the trust given us by the Founders.

  Your actions brought us to the brink of war. This Council is assembled to pass judgment on you. Discussion has been held. Before there is a final verdict, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

  I snort then try to rise to my feet. The crackle of magic rips through the air as the chains constrict pulling me down to the cart forcing me to bow before the Council. I strain against them but only hints of my inner fire flicker refusing to be fanned into life. I cannot break free. I stop struggling and the chains relax allowing me to straighten but not stand up.

  "This Council is being played. Some among you know it. Some among you are more than a pawn in this game. White is trying to awake the Ancients. Green is working with my half-sister. The only question is where do the rest of you stand? Will you tolerate being pawns in a bigger game or are you Kings and Queens?"

  They stare at me with poker faces. The Kings and Queens of all the Clans except White. I stare at White's empty chair. Are they behind all this? Is Marathe working with them? Or is it Green?

  "Archer Ddraig," Dracul says. "There is no reasonable defense presented for your actions. You stand accused of betrayal of your oaths. To this Council and to your people. If you are found guilty, you will be stripped of your crown and banished. Council, a vote is required."

  I look to each one of them. Do I have any allies left here? They refused me before and now they stand in judgment. No face looks friendly.

  "Green?"

  "Guilty!" Manco says the word with relish, his green eyes flashing with inner fire as he smiles.

  "Silver?"

  "Not guilty," Cyrus says softly, his Queen nodding beside him.

  "Black?"

  "Not guilty."

  Two no votes? If they tie then Dracul will have the deciding vote, he's an ally. I might get out of this! I look to Blue, pleading with my eyes.

  "Blue?"

  "Guilty."

  "The Council is in a tie. The Chairman votes," Dracul says standing up as he prepares to deliver his vote. Hope springs in my heart. I'll have to find a way to rescue Logan but once that's done I'm going to kill Marathe. She's done this to me for the last time.

  The door to the Council chambers slams open.

  A short man with a taller woman next to him walks in. A stride behind them is Marathe. I try to leap to my feet intending to charge but the chains immediately constrict pulling me back down. They don't ease up until I relax. I rise back to my knees to stare.

  The shorter man has crew cut hair that's pure white. His skin is so pale as to be albino and his eyes are pinkish. Sharp pinched features nod to each Council member as he passes. The taller woman has long, snow white hair that flows to mid back and an hourglass figure. Her face is perfectly symmetrical with a small nose and wide, pale gray eyes. Her skin is so clear that it seems translucent.

  They make their way to their seats sitting down before the White banner. Marathe stands to one side of the table by White. No one speaks or moves, staring as if this might be an illusion or a trick. White has not attended the Council nor been heard from in over three hundred years. The man leans forward in his chair.

  "White votes guilty."

  Dracul looks at me with surprise evident on his face. The hammer in his hand rises and falls in slow motion.

  "Archer Ddraig, you have been found guilty. You are hereby stripped of your Crown," Dracul says. "You will be set free once the Mark of Binding is set. You will be bound for one thousand years from assuming your dragon form. At that time you may petition the Council for removal of the Mark."

  "Esteemed Chairman," Marathe says stepping out.

  "Marathe?" Dracul makes her name a question.

  "By right of blood, I lay claim to the throne of Gold as Queen Regent in the name of my son Mateas."

  The Council mutters softly. Dracul stares at her and I leap again, the chains force me down once more. Everything in me burns to kill her. Dracul looks to one side then the other for any dissent but none comes.

  "So be it," he says slamming down his gavel once more.

  Marathe turns towards me slowly sashaying her way closer. She reaches out one hand and touches my nose with her finger. Pushing down the urge to snap at her I stare into her eyes.

  "Check-mate," she says softly before turning back toward the desk and making her way to th
e Gold Queen's chair. She settles herself in smiling at me.

  The cart jerks into motion. As the doors to the chamber close that smile is the last thing I see.

  Chapter fourteen

  Jennifer

  I can barely force my eyes open. Why did I? The room is barren. My hands are cuffed with massive iron manacles as are my legs. The weight of them makes it hard to move my arms. Silence. All around me is quiet.

  Rolling over is hard but I get to my knees. Logan is wrapped completely in chains and a purple energy plays along them. He looks up at me, starts to rise upright but the purple energy flares brighter and he's apparently forced back to a bent position. He grits his teeth and tenses his jaw.

  Tears well up behind my eyes. I swallow hard and try to push it all down, away from me, but the moment I do I see Marathe standing behind Elise. The knife moves in slow motion and the flood gates open as my tears stream down my face pooling on the floor. Logan tries to move again but the chains tighten forcing him back down.

  Blinking to clear my eyes he's straining to get closer to me but is unable. I can't seem to stand up either so I crawl over. I can't embrace him but I place my manacled hands against his face. Tears well in his own eyes. He tries to open his mouth and the purple electricity rips up from the chains across his face. As it passes through my hands they immediately go to sleep with a pins and needles sensation. Painful, but not debilitating. Logan's face though shows another story. His mouth opens and he cries out his pain without sound.

  Click. The door swings open. I turn towards the sound and Marathe strides in with two men, one of them Brant. The grizzled veteran who had stopped some of Marathe's men from raping Elise. I don't think that makes him a friend though, he still works for her. I wait, letting her come closer.

  She walks boldly up to us like she doesn't have a care in the world. I remain bent over next to Logan. Her feet come just inside my line of sight.

  "Get a cart for him, I don't want those chains off until the Mark of Denial has had time to set to keep him from shifting again," Marathe says. "This one," she kicks at me and I move.

  I grab the foot coming in and pull with everything I've got. It works! She goes down and there’s a very satisfying crack as her head makes contact with the floor. She makes a sound then is silent. I pull forcing her closer to me while also scrambling to move higher on her. Raising my manacles I swing them at her head wanting to end her.

  My hands impact with something, not her head. I scream, struggle, trying to finish my blow but I'm tossed aside as if I'm nothing more than a rag doll. I land on my ass hurting my pride more than my body but the two men close with me. One of their feet hits into my gut and all the air is out of me in a single whoof. I gasp, my lungs scream for air but are unable to take any in. The need to breathe overrides any pain.

  Another foot lands hitting my thigh, then my gut again. I double over bringing my hands up to cover my head. A thin wheeze of air slips into my lungs relieving the burning but allowing the pain of the blows to come through.

  "Stop!" Brant says.

  I can't straighten up. A stabbing pain in my ribs, burning with every breath I take. Curled in a fetal position I look over at Logan. He strains against his bonds, the veins on the side of his neck bulge, the chains move of their own accord, tightening more and more. I shake my head at him as tears flow. I can't see him in so much pain.

  "It's okay," I whisper.

  "It very much is okay," Marathe says lowering into my view.

  She smiles as revulsion fills my stomach with acid. Bile rises in my throat, so close and I'm helpless.

  "Get them all ready to move. I can't open a portal in the Green's temple. It's time to go home and claim my throne."

  Her throne? Panic floods through me and I look at Logan. There’s confusion in his eyes and he shakes his head.

  I'm pulled to my feet and Logan is loaded onto a four wheel cart not un-similar to a wagon for a child but scaled to hold a man. Brant wraps an arm around me keeping me on my feet. He follows the wagon and we're led through the dimly lit tunnels of the Green temple.

  Stone grinds on stone and a massive door slides down into the ground. Sunlight streams in as its seal is broken. My eyes burn at the brightness of it causing me to see stars. I blink rapidly trying to clear my vision. Each breath hurts, each step jars me, my eyes burn, and none of this overwhelms the emptiness in me. This pain is nothing compared to what I deserve for failing to protect my daughter.

  I stumble. The ground races towards me but Brant catches me. I can't get my knees to lock and hold me up. There's no point in going on. As soon as he sets me up right I fall again. He grabs my legs and lifts me easily into his arms to carry me. I try to struggle because I feel like I should but I can't summon the will to put out that much effort. I just can't see the point in fighting anymore. The bitch has won.

  We're marching across a clearing in the jungle. Large sections of the ground are charcoaled as if recently on fire, even some of the trees we march towards are burnt. The odor of the recent fire is heavy in the air. I note everything without really processing what I'm looking at. There’s a loud pop. Marathe must be opening a portal to take us where ever she wants us to go.

  "STOP THEM!" Marathe screams over the sounds of battle engaging.

  I lift my head to see what's happening. Brant sets me on the ground and draws his sword. He turns one direction and another but doesn't leave my side. I try to find out who is attacking who but all I can hear are the sounds of steel on steel and the occasional pop or fizzle of magic. Brant looks down at me then back at something.

  He bends down and picks me up in a single motion and runs. I scream feeling my throat tear as I pour out all my pain and rage in that single, primal sound. He doesn't stop, bending his body over me and running. Suddenly everything is black and we're falling then he stumbles and I'm falling for real landing hard on a cold stone floor.

  Shuffling sounds as I roll over to my knees. I force myself to rise up, to face whatever new threat is here. There’s the portal we must have just come through. From it comes flying Logan, cart and all, still bound in his chains. He's followed by Archer, then Remy, Sarissa, and then Lou!

  As soon as Lou steps through Remy motions and the portal closes with a pop. Archer steps towards me, his sword still drawn, and puts it straight to Brant's throat. A trickle of blood flows.

  "Who are you?" Archer says his voice low, dangerous.

  "Brant," he says his hands up in the air, palms open.

  "Why are you here?"

  "Time to switch sides. My Clan is being used by the witch. I don't know why, I don't know how, but I know it's not right."

  Archer's arm trembles making the sword point move up and down. At first I think it's exhaustion then I look in his face and see he's resisting the drive to kill Brant.

  "Archer, he's okay," I say.

  Archer looks at me. His face is solid for one moment then tears fall from his eyes. The sword clatters to the ground and he runs over and wraps me in his arms. Our lips meet in a bruising kiss but I don't care, I want to devour all of him. I want to wallow in his arms, finding any solace that he might offer.

  "I thought you were dead!" he cries.

  I shake my head, my throat tight. I force the words. "Elise," I choke. "She killed Elise!"

  Archer pulls me tight and whispers soft words to me. Reassuring but unable to bring her back. I break down in his arms sobbing and gasping as the pain of it all washes over me once more.

  Chapter fifteen

  Jennifer

  Water drips in the background and a chill runs up my spine. Caves are cold. I don't think I knew that and I'm certainly not dressed for it. Archer puts an arm around me noting the shiver. Logan stands to one side watching but looks away as Archer pulls me close.

  We stand in a circle around a small fire. There are low murmurs of conversation between people. Warring emotions rage inside me. Happy to be rescued, anger that I'm happy. What right do I have to be happy? My da
ughter was just killed! I'm struggling for a balance, for a way through. Nothing is right, the world is darker, wrong and I don't know what I'm supposed to be feeling much less what I should be doing.

  "How'd you find us?" my voice is hoarse from tears shed and unshed.

  Archer starts to speak, his mouth opens but no words come out. He just pulls me closer, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. Logan chokes back tears too but he doesn't shed them.

  "We've known where you were being held and have been trying to rescue you for a while now," Remy says filling the void.

  Sarissa stands next to him, her hand resting on his back. Lou stands to Remy's right staring into the fire. Lou! I hadn't even thought of his feelings. Tears overwhelm me again flowing like a river as I extricate myself from Archer and take Lou in my arms.

  "I'm so sorry," I say. Lou stiffens as I embrace him. "She loved you, loves you still."

  "Thank you Lady," he says stiffly, his tears wetting my shoulder.

  I hold him tight until his shudders pass. He turns away from me as he stands his hands rubbing at his eyes while keeping his back to the others around the fire. His eyes are red and puffy when he turns back.

  "This is a somber moment," Remy says. "But this place may not be safe for long. Archer, we need a plan. Then we need to move. I've shielded this cave for the time being but I do not trust it."

  Archer nods frowning. He locks eyes with Logan and something passes between the two of them. Oddly, jealousy stabs through all the grief and loss I'm feeling. I throw it on the pile of confusion I'm experiencing.

  "Of course," Archer says. "Marathe has played me. Played us all. The Council has stripped me of my crown."

  "No," I say in disbelief.

  "Yes. They also placed a Mark of Denial on me," Archer says unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it aside to reveal the left side of his chest.

  A tattoo rests there that is new. It's some kind of a knot work pattern that shifts as I look at it twisting around on itself. Looking at it fills my stomach with revulsion, acid rises into my throat. He covers it over and the feeling passes.