by Olivia Ash
All at once, the connections open. I'm flooded with relief. Affection.
Love.
In the past, I would have shied away from it, the sensation too intense to really consider or indulge. But right now, after everything we've endured…
I send love right back.
With Jace, Drew, and Levi around me, Tucker has to elbow his way through.
“Yeah, I'm not a big, fat dragon, but geez, give me a bit of space, will you?” he says, nudging Levi playfully in the shoulder.
I laugh, the hot air rolling through my nose as I brush my forehead against his, just grateful they're all alive.
“Let go of me!” someone shouts.
I look over my shoulder to find a Knight being brought in across the bridge, his hands bound behind his back as he fights the dojo soldier carrying him toward Russell.
The dojo soldier is in human form, wearing loose shorts and nothing else as he pushes the man to his knees in front of Russell.
Tucker stiffens, stepping in front of me and squaring his shoulders. “Brett.”
“Tucker,” Brett says, sneering.
Ah, this is Brett Clarke—the General’s new favorite.
“You're wasting time,” Brett says to Russell, scowling. “Just kill me. The General won't negotiate with the likes of you, and he won't take me back. He will think I've been compromised,” he adds with a hate-filled glare at Tucker.
I figure the policy on accepting prisoners of war back into the Knights has changed since Tucker sided with me.
Tucker scoffs. “Dragons aren't that cruel, Brett.”
“What, you think they’re going to put me up in a nice hotel? I’m a dead man, Tucker. Don’t delude yourself to help you sleep better at night.”
“I sleep fine, thanks,” Tucker snaps. “They're not going to kill you just because of what you are. You’re a prisoner, yeah, but as long as you comply, you don't die. Don't do anything stupid, and you won't go to your maker.” Tucker pauses, giving Brett a once-over. “Yet.”
Russell huffs impatiently, a not-so-subtle order for everyone to shut the hell up.
He takes a few steps toward Brett, lowering his head and baring his teeth as Brett lifts his chin defiantly, glaring at the dojo master.
The shifter he's been sent to kill.
The two watch each other for a moment, two leaders facing off, with one of them as the clear victor.
I suspect that's all Russell wanted—to remind Brett that he lost. To remind the Knights who’s in control.
Russell lifts his gaze to the dojo soldier behind Brett and briefly nods, turning his back on the Knight as if he's not a risk. As if he’s nothing to be concerned with any longer.
Of everything in this interaction, I would say that simple movement—that simple act of turning his back on the enemy—was the most wounding of all.
For all his fire and fight, Brett is left utterly speechless. Two dojo soldiers grab him by the arms and lift him to his feet, yanking him backward over the bridge and toward the prison trucks.
As Brett is shoved into the nearest truck, he looks over his shoulder one more time. I expect him to glare at Tucker or Russell, but he watches me instead with a strange expression. It's a blend of curiosity and confusion, with maybe a bit of hope.
Jace growls behind me, interrupting my thoughts. Drew and Levi follow suit, the three of them curling their necks and leaning against me again, growling in victory and relief as our connections reopen. Tucker joins in, wrapping his arms around my head as he holds me close.
These men—they're going to make me blush, giving me all this attention.
Ah, who am I kidding? I love it.
In all this chaos, I was deeply worried I might lose them. With Zurie after us, I feared she would take one of them from me.
But we won, and she failed.
In the flurry of joy and love that blurs through the connection we share in this moment, I allow myself to simply enjoy them. To celebrate.
To give in to these men who changed me.
Chapter Forty
Exhausted, bruised and bloody, I let the nurses patch me. There's not enough room in the infirmary to house all the injured and all those on death's door. So, after I'm suitably bandaged, I'm sent up to my room.
I want to help, but since I can barely see straight, much less dress a wound, I'm ushered out fairly quickly. There's morphine and lots of sleep involved, and I wake as the last rays of sun appear over the mountains beyond the dojo.
Dressed, bandaged and still slightly drugged with just enough medication to cut through a bulk of the pain, I wander through the halls in the medic ward once again, this time looking for Irena. I peek into her room, but to my surprise, it's empty.
I frown, my intuition flaring. The bed is unkempt, but the bathroom is empty.
She's gone.
I stiffen, a surge of adrenaline shooting through me as I wonder if a Spectre slipped past Russell and got in here. I draw the gun at my waist, ready to kill someone, ready to break down doors and kick some ass.
But then I notice the note on her pillow. I grab it, unfolding the paper with one hand as I holster my gun.
Irena’s handwriting scrolls across the page, and for a moment, I simply stare at it. The two little words written across the sheet carry so much weight to them.
I can't, it says.
She can't handle the pain.
She can't handle being in the space where she met Eric.
She can't handle being this raw.
She can't handle the grief.
So, she's running away from it all, running instead toward her perceived purpose—her mission to destroy the Spectres.
And she's doing it alone.
I crumple up the note in my hand, furious that she would leave. Livid that she would go injured into battle right after we just came out of one.
The anger burns in my chest, simmering and smoldering, and my body buzzes with a sudden need to shift—the sudden need to burn off this energy in any way I can.
I suck in a deep breath through my nose, rooting my feet to the ground and shaking my head as I try to soothe myself. To calm down.
The surge of fury fades, and I once again look at the crumpled note in my hand.
Irena touched this. Wrote on it. Left it as her final message for me. In many ways, it's the last thing I have of her.
I smooth it out against the bed, doing my best to ease all the creases in the page. I lean my hands on either side of the paper, my palms resting against the mattress as I just stare at the two simple words.
I can't.
With a deep sigh, I fold it neatly and tuck it gently into my pocket.
My brain buzzes with disbelief as I walk through the hallways, feeling like a lone ship in the ocean of chaos as the world buzzes around me. I retreat within, a little aimless as I walk outside, surveying the wreckage of this once-beautiful embassy yet again. The piles of rock. The hole in the roof. The streaks of soot along almost every window, the stone charred from the flames.
In the center of the courtyard, I pause, turning in a slow circle as I take it all in.
Up on a nearby hill, I see a familiar blonde sitting on a boulder, the wind kicking up her hair as she stares out over the dojo wreckage as well.
Harper.
I take my time climbing the small mountain, and after about twenty minutes, I join her on the overlook. We stand there together in silence and mourning as we watch the soldiers try to reclaim and recover what they can.
Without saying a word, I set my hand on her shoulder in comfort. In solidarity.
She and I—we’re in this together.
For a moment, she doesn't move, and I wonder what she must be feeling. What she must be going through.
A second later, she sets her hand on mine and looks over her shoulder at me. Her face is numb, her eyes dazed and distant.
“This means war,” she says calmly, as if it's the only thing she's thought about since the battle faded. “War with the
Vaer. It changes everything.”
“Apparently, it was supposed to be a silent snatch-and-grab,” I say. “All they wanted was me, and it went horribly wrong.”
“That it did,” she says sadly.
“Harper, listen,” I say trailing off, trying to find the words. “I’m sorry. This—”
“No, it's not your damn fault!” she snaps, her eyes narrowing in annoyance. “They came for me, too.”
I shake my head. “If I'd left—”
“I wouldn't have let you,” Harper interrupts again. “And neither would Russell.”
“That's true,” I admit, more than a little grateful for my friends. “Well, if this war is really coming, Harper, you have at least one ally.”
A small and grateful smile breaks across her numb expression, and she looks back out over the ruins of the dojo.
“We're not staying here,” I say, crossing my arms.
“Well, yeah, it's in ruins,” she says with a shrug. “You'll stay at the capital.”
“No,” I say simply.
She glares at me over her shoulder. “What are you talking about?”
“We've put enough pressure on you,” I say, knowing she will take the hint. “We'll leave.”
“It's not safe, and we won't let you.”
“You're not my Boss,” I say with a smirk.
Her nose wrinkles slightly in annoyance. “I don't care. Let me help you, Rory.”
“If you want to help me, then help me find Ashgrave,” I counter.
“Ah.” Her expression shifts, and after another moment, she nods in understanding.
She gets it.
The two of us survey the damage in silence, and the more I take in, the more it fuels the smoldering rage that has become a constant in my core. Even Zurie didn’t realize how dangerous this war is that she started.
I don’t care. I'm going to finish it, one way or another. For Harper. For Jace. For the dojo dragons who risked their lives for us. For all of the dragons I adore.
The sad fact is that this world doesn't want me in it. I tried too long to make them leave me alone.
That doesn't work, and it never will.
It's time for me to fight back and carve a place for myself on a planet that’s actively trying to kill me.
There's no more shadows, not for me. No more hiding. There's just the sun and the sky.
And the furious dragon-fire raging in my core.
Chapter Forty-One
A week after the battle for the dojo, I lean my head back into the steaming water raining down from the massive showerhead in the ceiling of an ornate mansion. The walls around me are covered in granite with flecks of gold leaf embedded in the stone, and it's almost hard for me to believe such an opulent mansion is ours for the taking.
Drew secured this safehouse for us, and we'll use this as home base for the time being.
Until his dad finds it, of course, but we have a little while before that happens.
I run my hands through my wet hair, relishing the hot water as it rolls over my skin. Beyond the dojo walls, I'm exposed. Every move has to be careful and calculated out here.
That's why it's all the more important that we find Ashgrave.
In the bedroom beyond this lavish master bath, the mattress creaks. It's the slightest hint of a sound, but I pause, listening as my senses tune to the world outside the shower.
Someone's there.
I turn off the water and wrap a towel around me, trailing little puddles of water as I step into the bedroom.
Drew is stretched out across the bed, one leg propped as he leans his head on his fist. His eyes rove over me, a ravenous expression on his face.
“I know you just got clean, but do you want to get dirty again?” he asks, a devilish grin on his face.
I laugh, and just to mess with him, I drop the towel to the floor.
His eyebrows shoot up his forehead, and I'm sure he thinks he's about to get lucky. I lean across the mattress, pressing my palms into the blanket as I gently walk my hands across the sheets—only to grab my shirt and the jeans lying in a pile beside him.
I wink and retreat, starting to get dressed as I throw the shirt over my head.
“Mean,” he says, his voice a dark growl.
“You like it,” I say, grinning.
“I really do.” His eyes rove over me again as I tug on some fresh underwear.
He pushes off the bed and comes over, kissing my shoulders as his hands weave their way down my waist. He fights with my grip on the jeans, trying to block me from buttoning my pants.
I laugh, smacking his hands away, and he groans in disappointment as I zip them up.
We walk into the hallway and out into the sunken living room in the luxurious center of the house. The vaulted ceilings climb almost two stories in the air and end in a glass atrium that lets in the brilliant sun above us.
Levi and Tucker look over their shoulders as they sit on the couch watching TV, both of them grinning in welcome as we approach.
I scan the room, wondering where my thunderbird is. “Where's—”
Soft footsteps interrupt me, and I turn around just as Jace wraps a possessive arm over my shoulders and kisses my hair roughly.
“Present and accounted for.” He grins, looking at Drew, and less than subtly drags me away. “Dibs.”
Drew snorts and grabs my waist, throwing me over his shoulder as he carries me away from the former dojo master. “Nope.”
I laugh, wriggling out of Drew's grip and sitting instead in an overstuffed chair nearby, smiling as they joke like brothers.
My men. I love them.
It's nice to see them relaxed, if only for a time. With the world after us, dragon and human alike, we won't get much peace in the near future.
But for now, for this moment, I can enjoy what we have.
Each other.
That's more than enough.
Rory, Levi, Tucker, Drew, and Jace will return in Fall of Dragons, coming soon.
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Read on for a special note from the author.
Author Notes
Hey, babe!
I love this book with a ferocious passion.
There was so much to say. So much to tell you. So much growth and change in all of our characters. I fell even more in love with Rory. With Tucker. With Levi. With Drew. And, yes, with Jace—his growth and change in this book was probably my favorite.
This book has filled my heart, and I’m so grateful I got to share it with you.
Rory has opened her heart in so many ways, and we really got to see that change firsthand. There were so many times when we got to see her react in a way that’s stronger and more emotionally powerful than who she was at the beginning of book one.
I mean, Rory was always a badass. Don’t get me wrong. But in this book, we get to see her be not just a badass, but a strong woman who is stepping into her own.
After all, she’s stepping out of the shadows—and carving a place in the world for herself and her loved ones. No more trying to hide.
In Reign of Dragons, for the first time in her life, she defied her master.
In Fate of Dragons, she learned how to give up a bit of control. How to compromise.
In Blood of Dragons, she learned what it means to have family. To trust, to let down her guard to her inner circle, and grow as a person.
And in Age of Dragons, Rory has finally accepted who she is: a dragon, a warrior, and someone worthy of being loved.
All while remaining her beautiful badass self, of course.
Tucker was such a badass hottie in this book. I mean, he always is, but I loved watching him play with so many guns. Especially while shirtless. He had to deal with the reality that his father wants his woman dead, and we saw him open up to Rory emotionally, too. It’s always a treat to peel back the goofball exterior Tucker always shows to reveal the complicated, intricate man inside.
Dr
ew is a powerhouse and always will be, but in this book we also got to see a bit of his vulnerability. His priorities shifted. He realized that protecting Milo wasn’t worth it anymore—not that Milo was ever grateful for it.
Levi learned to open up and trust, even going so far as to ask Jace for help reconnecting with his dragon. He’s opening up to others, speaking his mind, and showing up as the brilliant strategist he is. In a world that tried to break him, Levi remained his endearing, good-hearted self.
And Jace.
Oh, Jace.
Swoon.
The former dojo master finally realized that Rory truly is his equal, in a powerful moment she didn’t even register at first. She saved his life when he missed the Spectre hiding in the shadows, and she just shrugged afterward. Now they’re partners in crime, together to the end. I love their new dynamic!
As for the universe of the Dragon Dojo Brotherhood? I have absolutely loved diving into and expanding it. There’s so much here—so much lore, so many new mysteries to explore, so much to uncover.
In the next few books, we’re going to learn about Rory’s magic—where it comes from, what her limits are, and if she is, in fact, a god.
Of course, I couldn’t play in this world so much if you didn’t love reading it.
So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Thank you a million times over. If I ever get to meet you in person, I’m going to give you such a big hug.
You truly are such a gift to me!
I know you’re probably chomping at the bit to learn what happens next. To figure out where Irena went, and how her leaving will affect Rory. To learn about Ashgrave, and find out what’s left of it—if anything. To learn more about that strange crystal that sucked away Rory’s power, and the scream that followed. We both know that wasn’t Zurie—so who was it?
With Zurie dead, Diesel is the Ghost. We know he hates Rory and has a soft spot for Irena, but he’s a brutal man with ulterior motives. What will happen with the Spectres now?