by Lynn Best
“Touch me and regret it,” he said, his eyes blazing.
They spoke in unison, their red eyes glowing around him. “We regret nothing.”
He felt the first bite on his neck. Then another at his abdomen. Then another. And another.
Jerrard gritted his teeth until the pain was too much. He screamed.
9
Seela watched as the brothers stalked around their dining room table. She didn’t really understand what was happening. Only that Jerrard had been taken by whatever those things were that had once attempted to take her.
Stenton winced, pinching his head as if he suddenly felt pain. “They have him. They’re… feasting.”
“No,” Langdon whispered in horror, striding to the door. He made to throw it open, but Stenton put a hand on his shoulder.
“If you go out there, you know there’s only one way to stop them. And that way weakens us all.” Langdon met his brother’s eyes. “I won’t let him die.” With that, he threw open the rune-encrusted door and strode out.
Stenton went after him, but then turned to Seela. “Stay here. We’ll be right back.” Then he ran into the dark cavern.
Terrified, Seela stared at the open doorway and the hall beyond. She was just supposed to sit here while they fought for Jerrard’s life? Jerrard who’d saved her, who was now in this position because he’d used his one transformation so she could live?
Determination flooding through her, she glanced around the room. Spotting a sword on the little fireplace mantle, Seela grabbed it, pulling it out of the scabbard. The weapon was a good fit, not too big and not too small, but it appeared dull from age. But what choice did she have?
Gripping it in her fist, she took off running after Stenton.
But that proved a lot harder than she thought.
The cave hallways were dark, and she had nothing to see by. But sounds of a battled echoed her way, driving her forward with her heart in her throat.
Keeping one hand on the rough stone walls, she held the sword aloft with the other. What in the world she thought she was going to do with the weapon, she had no idea. She’d never even held one. Only blacksmiths had enough steel in her village to have swords, though the boys sometimes played knights by bashing sticks together. She’d never even done that much. Yet, she couldn’t do nothing.
All at once, she stumbled into the battle, though understanding what was happening took some time. There was Stenton and Langdon fighting with creatures she’d only seen in her wildest nightmares. They were black and hairy, like giant spiders, but their eyes were large and red, glowing in the darkness. They had six skinny, mammal-like legs tipped with long claws instead of feet. Their heads were small and tapered, dominated by a giant maw that opened to insanely wide proportions. As Seela stared, one opened its scissor-like jaws and clamped down on Stenton’s arm. He let out a cry of pain.
This was more than she’d bargained for.
But it was too late to turn back. A giant creature scuttled her way, big mouth opening to reveal hundreds of tiny razor-sharp teeth.
More afraid than she’d ever been, Seela raised her blade, hacking down as the thing jumped at her.
Her sword struck the creature, but its momentum carried it forward. She fell under its weight. Pinned to the ground with it on top of her, Seela screamed. Kicking out with her feet and pushing with her one free hand, she tried to roll the heavy, hairy thing off. It smelled like rotten meat and decay. Wet blood dripped onto her chest and arms as it flailed. Fear choked her along with the thought that soon all those teeth would burrow into her neck and end her.
Only it didn’t. The creature rolled off her like a sack of potatoes, then lay on the ground. Dead. A gaping wound, her sword sticking out of it, bled out onto the stone.
She had stabbed it through and killed it. A burst of pride welled inside her.
But it was short-lived as another creature turned on her.
She pulled her sword out of the dead monster’s body, shivering at the squelching noise. Then she readied for the attack.
“Seela!”
It was Stenton’s voice. He had spied her while fighting off three of the monstrosities. The one she’d seen bite his arm was still clinging to it, jaw locked tight. Stenton’s shirt was in tatters. Blood speckled his chest.
“You have to get out of here,” he said in desperation. “Now!”
“I can’t leave you here alone,” she cried, hacking down as a creature attacked her feet. She beat at it with the sword until it stopped moving. How many of these monsters were there?
When she looked up, she had her answer. Wave after wave was scuttling in from several hallways ahead of them. Hundreds of beasts. And the princes were killing one or two at a time. They’d be overrun any minute now.
“Langdon!” Stenton called to his brother, who had a beast in each hand and was bashing them together.
Langdon darted a glance where Stenton pointed. His eyes bulged at the huge number of beasts pouring in. Then he saw Seela. Langdon and Stenton exchanged a glance that Seela couldn’t read. Stenton gave a nod. Langdon returned it. Then he closed his eyes as the swarm of beasts surged over him.
What was he doing?
The monsters covered his body until she couldn’t see him anymore, just a mound of hairy black legs and snapping teeth. He was going to die. He was—
The beasts rose as if what they were clamoring over was growing. Beneath the scrum, a scaly tail appeared, then a large blue leg. A dragon grew up before them, his body soaring until his back nearly scraped the ceiling.
He was beautiful, a shimmering blue with scales the size of dinner plates that rippled in the cave’s dim gem light. His eyes were round globes, glowing like she’d seen Jerrard’s do in the cavern, only this time, the pupil was slitted vertically like a reptile’s. His snout was long and elegant with trailing ridges up the center that continued over his head, down his neck and back. Giant, bat-like wings spread wide, scraping against stone and sending bits of it showering to the floor.
The creatures fell off Langdon’s back, retreating a bit, but not surrendering. They regrouped, huddling as if they were discussing their strategy. Then they renewed their attack, surging toward the giant dragon.
Langdon’s neck rippled, his chest heaving as if he were taking a deep breath. His mouth opened wide, fire spewing between curved fangs. A fireball blasted into the swarm, crackling as it rolled over the beasts. They screamed, their bodies shriveling, but Seela couldn’t watch. The heat was enough to make her cringe and turn away. She would roast alive.
Arms wrapped around her, drawing her back. When she was able to look up, Stenton had her in his embrace, shielding her with his strong body. She folded into him, reveling in the feeling of safety. It might be false, but it was all she had.
The heat died away. Stenton stepped back, allowing her to lift her head.
The beasts were decimated. Hunks of smoldering hair and flesh lay in clusters at the dragon’s feet. Lumps that looked like mangled hunks of wood crackled and smoked. Blackened legs twitched. One jaw opened and closed. The smell was horrible.
Any who’d survived were gone, probably fleeing back down the tunnels from which they’d came. Langdon, as a massive blue dragon, surveyed the scene, scanning for stragglers and finding none. Then he glanced back at Seela and Stenton, nodding his large head.
“He did it,” Seela said.
“Now to find Jerrard.” Stenton let her go, running into the darkness and disappearing around a corner.
Seela stared up at Langdon in his dragon form. If there’d ever been a more beautiful creature on the planet, she didn’t know how that could be possible. He shimmered in the dying firelight like a jewel. His bright eye fixed on her as she slowly stepped his way, seeming to smile behind scaly jowls, if that were possible.
Seela reached out, touching his large foreleg. It was smooth as a polished stone.
A deep hum rumbled in his chest. Langdon lowered his head until his giant orb of an eye was
near Seela’s head.
“You’re magnificent,” she said.
But suddenly, he was shrinking. Limbs were shortening, scales retracting. In the blink of an eye, Langdon was standing before her, shaken and naked.
He slumped to the side, catching himself with a hand to the wall to keep from falling. Seela ran to his side, wedging herself under him to prop him up. His body was hot to the touch and trembling. She tried not to glimpse anything she should not, but how could she keep her mind off the fact that his naked body was pressed against hers with all that had transpired between them just a little while ago?
With a couple of deep breaths, he was able to stand again, taking his weight off her. “Thank you. The transformation can be a bit… rough.”
“You saved us.” She stared up at him to keep her eyes from roving.
“For now.” His voice was bleak as he focused on where the beasts had retreated.
“There were so many,” Seela said.
“And more born every day. This is the most we’ve ever seen.”
Stenton’s worried voice called from down one of the tunnels. “Langdon, come quick!”
They ran toward his echo, skidding to a stop when they saw the form lying on the stone floor.
It was Jerrard, but so very changed. His skin was pale, almost white. His clothes were torn nearly to shreds, and the skin they revealed was covered with puncture marks.
“Lords, they’ve drained him,” Langdon cried out in despair.
“Not drained,” Stenton said, a hand on his injured brother’s neck. “But nearly. We have little time.” He picked up his brother in one move, carrying him in his arms like it was nothing. Jerrard’s head lolled to the side.
“Those things. They did this to him?” Seela asked, the horror of what had happened crashing over her. “Will he live?”
Stenton’s face was a solemn mask. “Only time will tell. We need to hurry.”
10
They ran back to the door and the safety of their caves. Seela barely registered how they got there or who locked them in. Her one concern was Jerrard. He was so pale, like there was no blood left in his veins. His face was slack. Despite what Stenton said, he appeared dead.
“So much blood,” Stenton murmured, setting his brother down on the settee. “If only he could shift.”
“But he can’t,” Seela said. This was her fault. All her fault.
Stenton began ripping Jerrard’s clothes off, tossing the shredded rags to the floor. Langdon appeared with jars smelling of herbs, much like something she would’ve found in her mother’s pantry.
“Which should I use?” he asked Stenton in a voice more helpless than she’d ever heard from him.
Stenton shrugged. “Jerrard’s the one who knows medicinal herbs.”
Without thinking, Seela jogged forward. “I can help.”
Langdon offered her the jars in his hands before going back for more. Seela took turns sniffing each, trying to determine what made up each poultice. She decided on one that smelled the most like what her mother would use for wounds, but as she began applying it to Jerrard’s chest, doubt fell over her. This had to work. It had to.
Seela didn’t know how long she stood applying the tincture. There were so many bites. It was as if the monsters had treated Jerrard like a banquet. How he was still alive was a mystery, something tied into his magical dragon blood.
When she finally raised her weary head from the last doctored wound, she realized she had been at it for a very long time. Stenton and Langdon glanced up from where they had been reclining against the kitchen counter.
“What can we do?” Langdon said. His expression was drawn, his eyes exhausted.
Seela glanced at her work, placing her fingers to Jerrard’s neck. “His pulse is low but stable. We need to let him rest.”
Both men nodded. Stenton stood up. “You need rest. You’ve been at this for hours.”
Seela shook her head. “What if he wakes up and needs me?”
“Langdon will stay with him,” Stenton said, glancing at his brother. He nodded in agreement.
Langdon put a protective hand on Jerrard’s shoulder. “If anything happens, I’ll come and get you.”
Stenton touched her arm lightly. “Let me get you some food, let you get cleaned up.”
Seela was grimy, tired, and famished, but it felt wrong to leave Jerrard. Still, the brothers insisted, Stenton gently tugging her away from the common area and leading her down one of the dimly lit hallways.
They stopped at another wooden door. Stenton opened it and stepped inside, holding it open for her. Inside was a bedroom, though, unlike Langdon’s, it was immaculately decorated. This space had high ceilings hung with candelabras of gold and silver. A plush couch sat next to a wooden end table with a wine decanter on top. Two goblets waited beside it as if he’d known they would be coming.
The far wall drew her attention next. Stenton had a gallery of paintings, all very old, depicting what seemed to be the royal family. There was Jerrard as a young man atop a horse. Stenton and Langdon as children beside a very beautiful woman in a gown fit for a queen. Only one painting showed a giant dragon, black and thorny with an impenetrable gaze. Seela thought that might be their father, the dragon king.
Seela whirled around, taking in the splendor. “This is really beautiful.”
Stenton peered up from the wine he was pouring into the metal goblets. “It’s the best I could do with what we have. They haven’t provided us with furniture allotments since King Borost.”
Seela’s eyes widened. “He died thirty years ago.”
Stenton nodded. “Now you see why my sheets are so threadbare.” He gestured to his bed in the corner, a mattress on the floor covered in silken pillows and blankets. More like a nest than a bed. Very fitting for a dragon.
“Here’s something I don’t understand,” Seela said, taking the wine he offered her and sipping it. “Why would they give you a woman every year if they wanted you dead? Aren’t they giving you exactly what you need to break the curse?”
“Not if the horde can get to her first, as they have every time except for you,” Stenton said, arching a brown eyebrow. He went on to explain. “The pact only works if they uphold their end of the magical bargain. Humans cannot kill us. Humans cannot harm us. They must provide certain things for us like human females each year in the hope that one might break the curse. Or bring the wrath of our Father.”
Seela frowned. “But the beasts.”
“The beasts are their little way of breaking the bargain without breaking it. Humans can’t harm us, but those monsters they created can. Clever humans. Evil and clever.” He tapped on his temple, an ironic smile on his face.
“That’s awful. I’m sorry.”
He set his wineglass down, then turned to her. “Seela, please don’t ever be sorry for the things that other humans do. What you did for my brother…” His eyes trailed over her. “It was amazing to see you work. You saved him, you know.”
She shook her head. It was feeling light and floaty, likely from the delicious fruity wine. “I did what anyone would do.”
Stenton laughed. “Most humans we meet try to kill us. You risked your life in the tunnel to save us, and then you worked for hours on my brother to nurse him back to health. That’s hardly what most humans would do.” His eyes traced over her again, making a thrill trip over her skin. “You are a marvel, Seela of the Deep Forest.”
She tried to shrug off the compliment, reaching to put down the wine goblet, but her hand was unsteady. The glass caught the table lip and tilted. Seela watched it with wide eyes as it balanced precariously. It would spill all over Stenton’s carpet, and end up ruining one of the few precious things he had left. She reached out for the goblet just as Stenton was doing the same.
Their hands clasped around the cup. Wine sloshed over her fingers, warm and sticky, but it wasn’t the liquid she was concerned about now. It was Stenton’s large hands fitted over her own. The feel of his ski
n was much smoother than she’d imagined, much warmer.
Their eyes locked. His were an orangey-brown, like the last coals in a dying fire. But something burned deep within them. She’d seen men lingering outside of the tavern giving women looks like that before. The bishop had given it to her as he’d propositioned her in the butcher shop.
Stenton wanted her.
His eyes trailed over her, skimming her lips and dropping lower to the curve of flesh the bodice of her dress showed off nicely. He cleared his throat as he brought his eyes up to her face.
“You are doing something to me, Seela. Something I am not sure I can control.” One of his thumbs began to brush the back of her hand in gentle circles.
“And what is that?” she whispered, unable to find her voice. At his touch, her mind could focus on nothing but Stenton, his manly smell, his feather-light caress, the way his full red lips pressed together before he spoke.
“I’m not sure how men where you’re from react to you, but as a dragon, it is my duty to inform you that every ounce of me is begging to lay you on that bed right there,” he nodded back to his soft mattress, “and find out what is beneath that dress.”
She squirmed with the want pooling between her legs. It was a strange sensation, this desire. She’d felt it with Langdon, but this was hotter, more persistent. An itch that begged to be scratched.
And she wanted Stenton to scratch it all night long.
But what kind of girl would give in to such a request? The prince would use her, then probably discard her as a harlot. And what good would that do anyone since they were all stuck here together?
She squeezed her legs together tightly enough to extinguish the fire burning there.
“It would not be proper for me to go to bed with you,” she said politely. “Even if you are a prince.”
“Wise choice,” he said, his voice nearly a growl of lust. “Then let me just clean off this wine.”