Once Upon A Midnight

by Stephanie Rowe

  Seeking any solace he could find, Drago forced a picture of his mate to the forefront of his mind. Just one glimpse of Alicia’s beautiful face gave him the tiniest respite from the pain. He prayed that he had not doomed her to the same fate. That just because they were mates his little witch would be able to live a full, happy life and ascend to the Heavens where he was sure she belonged.

  The picture of Alicia blinked from existence as bursts of blindingly bright light assaulted his ultra-sensitive eyes from the inside-out. Blood-boiling fire the likes of which Drago hadn’t known existed seared the flesh of his throat making breathing impossible, just as the ferocious roar of a dragon cut through the chaos of his agony-riddled mind. He reached for his dragon but found the winged-warrior unresponsive. The fit of anger was not from his own beast, but one akin to the warrior with whom he shared his soul.

  Another of my family has been doomed to the pits of Hell?

  Unable to use the enhanced senses he’d been blessed with as a dragon shifter to identify the beast still seething beside him, Drago attempted to turn his head. Surprisingly, his head fell forward, his chin touching his chest at the same time he drew his first deep breath. It tasted of fresh turned soil and cool, damp air, not the dank rotten stench of his own skin being eaten away by his silver bonds.

  The shackle has been removed from my neck?

  Unwilling to trust his own instincts, the Guardsman simply held still, enjoying the ability to breathe. Drago imagined cool, soft fingers gently touching his cheeks and carefully lifting his head upright. He knew it was all in his imagination but he enjoyed it nonetheless.

  Another breath and his senses were overcome with the scent of daffodils and sunshine. Again, Drago reminded himself that it was an illusion, a trick his mind was playing on him in an attempt to ease the agony of the constant barrage of torture his was being made to endure, but it simply didn’t matter. He would take whatever tiny piece of the heaven that was his mate that he could and hold it in his heart forever. It was all he would ever have of his Alicia.

  All thought was driven from Drago’s mind as another wave of agonizing pain tore across his chest. His mouth opened in a wordless scream as the breath was pushed from his lungs. His eyes flew open, immediately blinded by a flash of light the intensity of the sun. Squeezing his eyes shut, the Guardsman searched for air, searched for calm, searched for any small shred of sanity, only to come away empty-handed.

  Will this torture never end?

  Another dragon’s roar echoed through his mind, but it was the heart-breaking sob of a woman that cut through all the other noise, wrapped around his heart, and called to his weary soul. Sure he’d lost his mind, the Guardsman couldn’t care. It was better than enduing one more second of misery. Gentle fingers stroked his face. Leaning into the caress, Drago focused on the soft, silky feel of another’s touch. Human contact was something he’d missed so much and one of the things he’d most looked forward to after finding Alicia, but he knew he was dying, knew that feeling her touch was not to be.

  “Oh my sweet, Alicia…”

  “Yes! Yes, Drago I’m here!”

  “You’re here in Hell with me? No! That cannot be!”

  The fingers that had so gently touched his cheek now held his face within their grasp. Soft lips laid upon his broken and bleeding mouth as Alicia pleaded, “Open your eyes, just a bit. Look at me.”

  Sure he was being tortured by the devil himself, Drago tried to move his head, tried to get away from the demon pretending to be his mate. “Get away from me, demon! Torment me no more!”

  The hands held him tight, the sweet lips remained on his, and again the haunting voice pretending to be his mate pleaded, “Drago, it’s me. Please! Can’t you feel my hands on your face? My lips against yours? Search our bond. It’s me. It’s Alicia.”

  His heart pounded in his chest as his mind tried to reason with the words he’d heard. Drago wanted to believe, needed to believe more than he needed his next breath, that by some stroke of Fate he’d been delivered from his prison, but the pain still wracking his body battled with his wishes and dreams.

  It sounded like Alicia. The feel of her mind against his felt like Alicia. The scent infusing itself into every fiber of his being was most definitely Alicia’s, but none of it made sense. His mate would not hurt him. She would not torture him. His little witch would seek to heal him, not harm him. Still, the voice in his head begged.

  “Please, Drago. Please open your eyes. See me!” Her pleas became demands that were quickly followed by a voice the Guardsman had thought he’d never hear again.

  “Uncle, it’s true. We have freed you. Open your eyes and see the woman that has worked so hard to save your life.” It was Rayne, Alexander’s son, his nephew, confirming what the beautiful voice had been telling him.

  “Rayne?”

  “Yes, Uncle, it’s me.”

  “But…”

  “But nothing, your Alicia brought us to you. She has saved you.”

  Drago dared to hope, summoned his courage and slowly opened his eyes. Immediately slamming them shut, he yelled to Alicia, “It burns. The light. I can’t take it. My eyes are on fire.”

  “Turn off the lights! It hurts his eyes! He can’t see! Turn them all off!” Her lips had left his to issue her commands but the sweet softness of her hands against his face remained.

  Can it be true? Have I been saved?

  It took several seconds before Alicia spoke directly into his mind. “Now try. Open your eyes slowly. All the lights have been turned off, even the candles. Look at me, see that you are free.”

  Drawing on his years of training and the little combined strength of he and his dragon that remained, Drago slowly opened his eyes until he could just barely make out formless blobs of different colors. Soft, tender lips again touched his, but this time he could feel them smiling.

  “It is you, isn’t it?”

  “Yes! It’s me.”

  Hearing the tears in Alicia’s voice, Drago attempted to lift his arms to comfort his mate, only to be held tight by the same silver chains he’d been subjected to for a hundred years. Roaring at the injustice, he screamed, “Why am I still restrained? What is happening? My mate and my kin would not treat me so!”

  “Drago! Stop! You’re going to hurt yourself even more.”

  “Hurt myself! It is you that is holding me hostage!”

  “No! No! I’m not! We’re not!”

  Refusing to be drawn even farther into whatever horrible trick the Universe was playing on him, Drago slammed his eyes shut and tried to pull away, but the hands that touched him so lovingly held fast. Voices sounded all around him, some he recognized, and others foreign.

  “What do I do? He thinks he’s in Hell imagining all of this. How do I make him believe?” the voice that sounded like Alicia implored the others.

  “Let me try to talk to him again. Let me make him see reason,” the voice that sounded like his nephew demanded.

  “I can’t even imagine what the poor man is going through,” a woman’s voice he’d never heard before interjected.

  “He is going into shock. Removing the few shackles and chains that you did made it possible for him to breathe but the pain is too much for his mind to deal with. His dragon has done all he can without hurting Alicia, something the beast would never do, and the man’s mind is going to break if you can’t get through to him,” a mature woman’s voice that seemed familiar said with authority.

  “What do you suggest?” the voice that sounded like Rayne growled.

  “I know!” the voice he so wanted to be his mate exclaimed before speaking directly into his mind. “You told me to tell Rayne about the time he fell out of the hayloft after drinking too much from his father’s flask, do you remember? You did that after calling to me. After telling me I was your mate. Do you remember? Please remember.” Her last words were a whispered plea.

  “I do. But if you are a demon you could’ve pulled that from my mind.”

  �
�I am not a demon, dammit. Look within yourself. Find our mating bond. The bond you initiated with me, the woman the Universe made for you. See that what I am telling you is the truth. I’m trying to save you dammit, but you’re making it even that harder than it has to be.”

  There it was, the fire and passion he knew was his mate. The bond that lay deep within him connecting his soul to hers flared to life. It was true! He had been saved. His little witch had done as she promised.

  “It is you! By the Heavens it is my beautiful Alicia.”

  Words escaped him as her forehead touched his and soft drops of wetness traveled down his cheeks. “Are you crying, mo chroi’?”

  “Of course, I’m crying you big oaf. I thought you were dead.” She placed three chaste little kisses along his battered lips.

  Before he could answer, the older woman spoke again. “I am happy you have come to your senses, Drago, and even more so that we have found you after all these years, but I’m afraid we need Alicia to move. There are many more chains that need to be removed and we have to get you out of that horrible silver coffin.”

  Although Drago hadn’t dared to open his eyes again, just the tone of the older woman’s voice let him know she’d shuddered as she spoke the last words. He was just about to ask her name when Rayne spoke. “Uncle, you need to go into your healing sleep before we begin removing the rest of this silver. I am sorry for the pain you will be subjected to but the horrible metal is embedded in your skin. I’m surprised it hasn’t eaten away at your bones.”

  Trying to answer aloud, Drago opened his mouth, but only a wheeze escaped. Closing his mouth and trying to clear his throat, he thanked the Heavens when the wet rim of a cup touched his mouth. His first drop of cool, refreshing water slid across his tongue and slid down his throat, igniting a voracious thirst.

  Tipping his head forward, trying to force more of the heavenly drink into his mouth, the older woman instructed, “Only a few drops, Alicia. We do not need anything else to push him toward shock. Just enough to allow him to speak before he goes into his healing sleep.”

  Drago wanted to yell at the older woman, to tell her to mind her own business, but he was still unable to speak and Alicia had already answered. “Yes, Siobhan. Just a few more drops. He’s so very thirsty.”

  “Siobhan Walsh?”he asked Alicia.

  “Yes, why?”

  “I fought alongside her mate, Gareth.”

  “Well, y’all can talk about that later. Right now you need to go to sleep and heal or whatever it is Rayne told you to do. We have to get this silver off you and get you back to the lair where Siobhan can treat your wounds.”

  “But…”

  “But nothing, you stubborn dragon. Just this once, do as I say.”

  Chuckling to himself, the thought of freedom and his mate in his arms warming his heart, Drago answered, “Whatever you say, mo maite, whatever you say.” Calling forth the calm required to fall into his healing sleep, the Guardsman murmured, “I love you with all that I am, Alicia May,” and quietly floated to sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  Day seven and Drago was still in his healing sleep. Alicia was beginning to refer to it as his healing coma, which none of the dragons were thrilled about, but she really didn’t care. She needed him to wake up. Needed him to give her some indication that he was still in there and not dead or dying. The young witch knew she was being irrational. After all, she could still feel him. It was just that he wasn’t responding and if she had to be honest with herself, he was doing exactly what she’d told him to do.

  Siobhan had repeatedly explained that everything was okay but Alicia was impatient. It was day after day, hour after hour, minute after minute of watching him lay there, silent, unmoving, the only indication he lived the slow rise and fall of his chest. It was obvious whatever happened during a dragon’s healing sleep was most definitely happening with her mate. He looked so much better now than when she’d first seen him. Then Drago had looked like something out of a horror movie.

  The poor man had been a mass of oozing and torn flesh. Alicia hadn’t been able to find an inch of skin that the silver chains hadn’t tried to eat away. He looked like a massive statue of raw hamburger with long, stringy black hair and a beard of matted whiskers, dressed in whatever tatters remained of the clothing he’d been wearing when the wizards had locked him away all those years ago.

  Alicia had wanted to cry. She wanted to raise the previous Draoi from whatever pit in Hell he’d landed in and kill him all over again. Even better, she wanted the evil wizard to suffer the way her mate had. The young witch knew it was wrong to pray for vengeance but couldn’t help herself. In actuality, she’d been hoping for the destruction of the Dorcha for most of her life. They’d brought nothing but lies and pain to her family.

  The young witch just didn’t understand the violence, didn’t understand why it continued all these years later. Could not fathom why one Grand Draoi had done this to her mate and another had killed her father. She thought about a quote she’d once heard. “The evil that men do lives long after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.” Shakespeare had never been her thing but that one quote had stuck and reared its ugly head over and over in her life. Alicia only hoped she would do something good that would live on after her and that the evil the Dorcha had been spreading over the earth for more years than she could imagine would go with them to Hell.

  Lost in thought, she missed the sound of the door opening and nearly fell off her chair when Rayne asked, “How’s he doing today?”

  “Oh, crap!” she squeaked.

  “I’m sorry, Alicia.” The Commander smiled, trying not to laugh. “I thought you heard me.”

  Righting herself in her chair even though the grin on Rayne’s face said he’d seen her almost land on her ass but was being nice and not mentioning it, she quickly answered, looking back at her mate. “The same. No change.”

  “The Heavens know I know how hard it is to sit and wait for your mate to wake up. Kyndel got hurt when we first met and I went through the same thing. It was the longest week of my life.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “He will wake. Drago is a fighter if nothing else. He survived a hundred years in a silver box just to find you, he won’t give up now.”

  Nodding, not willing to look up and let Rayne see the tears in her eyes, Alicia stared at her mate. She knew the Commander was right. Could see that in just a week what had been horrible gaping wounds were now bright pink scars in the final stages of healing.

  She could now even make out the marking that represented his dragon. The tattoo she knew all the Guardsmen had. Drago’s was amazing and covered the majority of his chest and his ribs on the right side with its head just over the Assassin’s heart. Once again she imagined what it would be like to meet his beast in person.

  The young witch had washed and cut Drago’s hair then shaved his face after Rayne commented that he’d never so much as seen his uncle with a whisker, let alone a long, full beard. She’d loved every minute of caring for her mate. Just another indication that they were truly meant to be. She shook her head, smiling at the handsome man laying before her. He was still so very thin despite the IVs Siobhan had filling him with fluids and nutrients. But Drago was most definitely the best-looking man she’d ever seen.

  He resembled Rayne in many ways but Drago’s air of danger, even though he lay motionless on the bed, was as vibrant as she imagined the man to be. From the tiny glimpse she’d gotten of his eyes, Alicia knew they were dark brown, almost black. She wished more than anything for him to open them again so that she might see them outlined by the full black lashes that had grown back in while he healed.

  His bone structure was nothing less than regal. Alicia could imagine him sitting upon his horse, commanding his Force, cutting down every wizard and hunter that dared to cross his path. He was the essence of the moniker he’d been given all those years ago, The Assassin. Drago’s high cheekbones and aristocratic nose, along with his strong jawline,
looked as if they’d been carved out of granite, but it was his mouth that constantly drew her attention. His lips were the perfect combination of hard and soft.

  She imagined them drawn in a tight line as he shouted orders or stood over his fallen brethren, but could also see from the laugh lines that he wasn’t afraid to smile. Alicia longed to see that smile aimed at her. This one man had burst into her brain, demanded her help, insisted she accept him as her mate, and somewhere along the way, made her fall in love with him. Now, the stubborn butthead just needed to wake up so she could stop worrying.

  Rayne’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Kyra found a tunnel behind the silver box Drago was in. She told me she thought something was behind it the day we got him out.” The Commander pointed at his uncle. “But she couldn’t get a good read because of the all the black magic and the silver. It took us all digging around the clock for almost five days to get the coffin out of the rock and then dig another hundred feet, but she was right, it’s there. Early this morning, Kyra, Royce, Rian, Rory, your mom, and a few of your sisters went down there to see if they could start undoing all the bullshit the Dorcha have carved into the walls.

  Your mom said she didn’t want to bother you with it and I know I’ll probably get my ass kicked, but I thought you needed to know. Especially if they find any of my uncle’s brethren buried down there. I know it’ll be one of the first things he asks about.” Pausing and looking at Drago and then chuckling, he continued. “He’s a stubborn son of a bitch, Alicia. I hope you’re up for the challenge.”

  Alicia laughed out loud. “Well, as Melanie and Hannah keep reminding me, the Universe does not make mistakes.”

  They both chuckled but then Alicia asked, “Do you really think any of his men are down there?”

  “You’re guess is as good as mine. Since they didn’t kill him, I’m thinking they probably didn’t kill any of them. Killing one Guardsman is not an easy task, but to try to kill seven as powerful as Drago and his Force was definitely more than the Dorcha could pull off, hence, locking my uncle away. I was pretty young when he disappeared but I remember my father swearing he knew Drago lived. He said there wasn’t anyone in Heaven or Hell that could kill his brother. Guess the old man was right.” The Commander smiled a sad smile. “They don’t make them like that anymore.”