by Leela Ash
He yearned to say more. To tell her of the emptiness her love filled in his soul.
Restraint, he warned himself. Give her time. We’ve touched. We’ve taken the first baby step toward reunion. Let it be.
“You’re dear to me, too,” she whispered, her eyes growing damp. Another tiny step. Even his Dragon grew quiet, sensing there might be some value to patience after all.
“Good. So here is my thought.” Normally, he would simply tell her what they were doing. He was an Alpha. He ordered. Subjecting his plans for another’s approval was an alien concept. Judging from his Mate’s own strength of mind, however, it was something he needed to get used to.
“Let’s get your family to my home in New York. Amarie is a doting nurse. I am certain she would love to care for your brother. I will stay here and…”
“Not alone!” she cried. “You can’t! It’s not safe!”
Silly as it was, her concern delighted him. She cared. No matter how much she swore they’d never be together, her own heart betrayed her. She loved him as much as he loved her. “Dearest, no Worm could threaten a Dragon. The mere chance of encountering me terrified him. You saw that.”
Hannah scowled, not reassured. “I also saw the magical trap he left for you. Which vaporized a Werewolf Shifter.”
Okay, she had a point. Knowing he could never defeat a Dragon in a fair fight, LeMar would, no doubt, resort to trickery and spells. Brandon, however, was certain he could manage that. “Honestly, I doubt he’ll bother. Now that I know about the Wellspring, I expect our enemy will flee town quickly. Probably today.”
“But the Wellspring is alive!”
“Barely. It’s not strong enough to heal, as it should.”
“It’s still priceless, isn’t it?” she protested.
“Yes, of course,” he explained, with pained patience. “It’s also now guarded by a Dragon. Which he cannot defeat.”
“By himself. If he gets reinforcements, though…”
Sweet scales and teeth, could she not let it go? This ‘democracy’ nonsense vexed him and his Dragon both. Why couldn’t she just let him give the orders, as he did with Amarie?
Because, he realized, she might be human, but her soul was as fierce as his own. Could he do what he demanded of her? Could he let her face an enemy without him to protect her?
No. Never. While Hannah might not be a Dragon, she understood the burning love that lay at a serpent’s heart. He needed to be patient, as unnatural as it was.
“I will summon reinforcements of my own,” he promised. “There is a Shifter family in Ohio that owes me a favor. They’re not warriors, however, they could be here by this evening and care for your farm. I’ll also summon my Flight. Other Dragons. Trust me,” he smiled. “Not even the Fangs of Apophis dare to face a full Flight of Dragons.”
She wasn’t happy with his plan – but she couldn’t find a flaw in it.
“Remember, this is only for a short time. Once my Flight and I have secured this area, you can return. I doubt you’ll be away more than a week.”
“And then?”
“Then we’ll discuss… other things.” What that might be, he left unsaid. Yet, she knew. They both knew that, no matter what words had passed between them, they couldn’t simply walk away from each other. They were Mates, their souls bound by destiny. If life threw obstacles in their path, they would find another road forward.
Hannah sighed and gave him a rueful smile. “Okay. Sounds like a plan.”
Ha! She agreed with his, um, ‘orders.’ “It’s settled then. Shall we go in and convince your parents?”
The door behind his love opened. Standing on the step below her, he couldn’t see the person who stepped out.
And he didn’t need to. A waft of foulness – garbage and uncleaned fur – touched his Dragon’s fine senses.
“Mrs. Grishom!” Hannah said. “How nice to…”
“Rat!” Brandon thundered. With one swift bound, he mounted the stairs, placing his body between his Mate and this sudden threat.
The woman before him quailed with a squeal of fear that betrayed her Rat Shifter nature. Contempt filled him. Him or his Dragon’s, he couldn’t say. Neither of them held much respect for this treacherous kind. One of LeMar’s stooges, no doubt. He called his Dragon to him, letting its power roll across his skin. As scales flashed across his lean body, he glared at Mrs. Grishom, fully expecting her to flee.
In that moment, he forgot one of the great truths about rats: that, when cornered, they’d fight.
A jacket lay folded across her arm. From under it, the woman drew an obsidian dagger. She flailed wildly; Brandon swatted the blow away, lest it harm Hannah. To his shock, the black blade sliced through the plated skin of his hand. The wound was nothing – a scratch that barely bled. Yet the knife’s track burned like acid.
With a shriek, Grishom collapsed into an oily rodent the size of a large dog. The knife clattered to the porch as she bolted for the woods at a dead run.
He spun, prepared to pounce on her and end her miserable life. At his movement, the world twirled madly, sending him crashing into the porch railing.
“Brandon!” Hannah darted to his side as his legs gave way. “What’s wrong?”
“P-p-poison! You need to…”
That was all he managed to choke out before the darkness took him.
Chapter 13
“Brandon!”
Hannah dropped to her knees beside him, cradling his head.
The front door banged open again. Drawn by the shouts and roars, her father barreled out, cradling a shotgun in his arms.
“It’s Mrs. Grishom! She’s a monster!” Hannah pointed in the direction the Shifter had run but there was no sign of the bloated Rat. Her treacherous blade might be able to hurt Brandon, but the coward still wouldn’t risk facing his wrath.
Her poor baffled father knelt beside her. “What the hell happened?”
“Poison. Danny’s nurse must be one of the Shifters who are trying to steal our farm.” Heart hammering, her fingers went to his throat and found a pulse. Fast, erratic – but he was alive!
For now. Until the venom did its work.
Fear shook her then. A soul-killing dread that dwarfed any terror she’d ever known. What if he died? What if she lost him?
A half hour before, she’d told him they had no life together. Now, facing his loss, she realized how foolish she’d been. There was no future without him – none she wanted to be a part of. She could no more survive his loss than the loss of half her soul.
With a wail, she slammed her fist into the porch floor. Like an icicle, the pain sliced through her panic, leaving her clear headed.
“I’ll call 9-11,” her father said.
“No. He’s a Dragon, Dad. They can’t do anything.” But who could? Where could she find help against a magical Dragon-slaying poison? Those Ohio Shifters? Brandon’s Flight? Or…
…within herself?
“Dad, help me!” She slung one of his arms over her shoulder and tried to tug him to his feet. “We need to get him to that spring we found.”
The Wellspring. Ohio and his missing Flight were too far away. Only the dormant healing well was close enough to save him.
If she could find a way to summon its magic back into this world.
“Honey, here. Let me.” Dad set the gun down and hefted Brandon onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. He rose to his feet, grunting in surprise at the man’s weight. “Lead on.”
Hannah snapped up the shotgun and ran for the woods.
In her heart, it took hours to reach the Wellspring. She wanted to scream at her father to hurry, that Brandon’s life and hers depended on speed. One look at Dad’s red, sweating face told her, though, that he was moving as fast as he could. A dozen times, panic threatened to drag her under. They were too slow. He was dead. It was all her fault. Each time that mind-numbing fear reared its head, she forced it back down. She had to stay in control. Brandon depended on her.
&
nbsp; After an eternity, she saw a flash of birch leaves ahead. “We’re there, Dad! We’re there!”
They burst into the clearing. Her father staggered to the edge of the dry pool and collapsed, dumping himself and his burden to the ground. “What... what is this place?” he gasped.
“It’s a Wellspring. It’s magic.” Hannah scanned the glade frantically, searching for any change. A whisper of arcane energy… a voice, promising help… healing waters bubbling up from the cold earth…
Something?
Anything?
Despite her unspoken plea, the glade remained unchanging. Strangely green for an autumn day – but drained of all power.
“Please…” Now she did speak, begging the Wellspring to aid her. “Heal him.”
Nothing happened. The fall breeze swept her prayers away, unanswered.
“Honey?” Her father’s voice was rough. “Sweetheart… I can’t feel a pulse anymore.”
No! She covered her face with her hands, as if her sorrow could be held back by flesh alone. She couldn’t lose him! There had to be a way to bring the Wellspring back to life!
Think! She rocked, struggling to recall what little she knew about this place. It was a Wellspring, a pool of magical healing. What else had Brandon said?
‘…a place where the Veil between the worlds grows thin…’
Thin.
With a flash of hope, Hannah raised her arm and slammed her palm down on the spring’s rocky bottom.
She expected pain, stones tearing into her soft flesh. Instead, her hand collided with a soft cushion that gave way beneath her blow. Her hand sank into the ground… then her wrist… then her elbow.
It worked! Her elation died immediately when she glanced at Brandon who still lay, motionless, beside Dad. Though her arm sank deep into the earth, the ground around it remained barren.
Dead. Like her love would be soon, if she couldn’t rouse the Wellspring.
Leaning forward, she fought to press her arm deeper, but it wouldn’t budge. The Veil between the worlds, it seemed, only bent so much.
Now what? How could she be so close and still fail?
With a frustrated cry, Hannah threw her full weight on her arm. She would tear a tunnel between the Worlds with her bare hands if that was what it took to save her Mate!
Nothing. No movement. It seemed the Veil was stronger than she was.
Despair rose, threatening to overwhelm her. At its soul-killing touch, she wailed – and something on the Other Side answered her scream. A faint warmth brushed against her finger-tips. When she snatched at it, it vanished.
She tensed, ready to throw herself at the Wellspring again…
And then she saw her error.
Brute force would never conquer a Dragon. So why would a Wellspring, the sanctum that held the hearts of all Dragons, be beaten by it?
Love conquered Dragons. Love of Mate and home. Love ruled them, made them whole.
Love was the key to the Wellspring.
She relaxed, letting her arm rest in the well’s hidden depths, and filled her mind with him. Brandon. Her love. Her Dragon. The masculine perfection of his sculpted body. The power with which he took her, claimed her, and brought her to the heights of pleasure. The fierceness of his great scaled form, terrifying to enemies, a haven to innocents.
She loved him, with all her heart and soul. Dragon and Man, she loved all of him. She called to the Wellspring – with love, not fear – to join her love.
And the Wellspring answered. Energy blazed on the Other Side, sending bright lances of light shooting into the air. Power exploded around her hand, like a thousand suns bursting into life. It roared up her arm, electric pulses racing along her nerves, up her body. (As it washed across her stomach, something deep inside her stirred. The tiniest seed of a someone stretching in joy as magic filled her womb. Tears of happiness filled her eyes as she understood the promise their love-making had left behind.)
With a hiss like a tiny drake, water rushed up around her elbow. It poured across the dusty stones. Dry moss greened, thickened, as flickers of light and magic rose into the air, banishing all darkness from the clearing. Hannah withdrew her arm and rocked back on her heels in shock. The pool of her dream lay before her.
Magic had returned to the world.
“Okay, I didn’t see that one coming,” said a snide voice behind her.
LeMar! Hannah whirled, jumping to her feet.
The worm stood by the birch curtain, a gloating smile plastered across his coldly handsome face. “I mean, I knew you were Kindred,” he continued, ambling toward her. “I guess your great-grammykins was a Witch-Hare. Congratulations, girl. I planned to kill you, but you know what? I think you might be useful. Guess I’ll keep you instead.”
“Keep this!” Hannah snarled. She scooped the shotgun off the ground and let the worm have both barrels.
The force of the shot rocked him backward. The front of his bespoke jacket exploded – to reveal scales. A hard, impenetrable shell her weapon hadn’t even scratched.
LeMar’s eyes lit with outrage. “You impudent vermin! That was my favorite suit.”
Talons ripped through the tips of his fingers and a sickly yellow light blazed in his eyes as he summoned his Worm.
Beside her, her dad rose and stepped between them, his big, strong hands balled into fists. “You stay away from my daughter!”
“Dad, no!” she cried. He’d never seen a Dragon fight! He didn’t know he stood no chance against one, not even a maimed, fallen Worm like LeMar.
“Two for one, darling,” the Worm snarled as the last traces of his human form faded away. “You get to watch your Mate and your father die today.”
“No.”
Harsh, ragged with pain, that denial still boomed through the clearing. A shadow fell over her. She spun…
Brandon!
Above her loomed a magnificent black Dragon. He reared, wings sweeping out to form a protective shield over her and her father. The Dragon’s burning sapphire eyes were fixed on the cringing Worm. “No one dies today,” he roared. “Except you.”
Close to her Dragon, Hannah could see the faintest tremor in his legs, the way he shifted to keep his balance. That poison had ravaged his body, weakened him. Although the Wellspring had saved his life, he was still injured.
Her heart froze. No wound, not even a mortal one, would stop a Dragon from defending his Mate. Injured as he was, though, could a Worm defeat him?
If he had been a Dragon – or a man – LeMar might have stood a chance. But he was a coward, through and through. The sight of a true Dragon towering over him, filled with righteous, protective rage, broke his spirit. Screeching in terror, he whirled and fled, slithering off through the trees.
Brandon threw himself into the air… or tried to. At the last instant, however, his injured leg gave way. One great wing clipped a birch tree, shearing it in half. The Dragon rose a few feet off the ground, tilted, then righted himself with slow, heavy wing beats. The sight horrified her. Yesterday, when he carried her home, he had been the Lord of the Air. One powerful leap had sent both of them soaring to the heavens. Now, ravaged by poison, he fought to even stay aloft.
“Wait!” Hannah waved at him, trying to draw him back. He couldn’t do this! Her feeble healing hadn’t given him enough strength!
If he heard her plea, he gave no sign. Brandon rose unsteadily above the trees and pursued his fleeing enemy.
The sound of his wings faded, leaving Hannah to stare helplessly at the sky above her.
A soft groan, almost a whimper, drew her attention back to the grove.
Dad stood beside the Wellspring, rocking back and forth. Shivers shook his heavy body and he stared at the woods, slack-jawed with shock.
“Dad? Are you okay?” She stepped to his side and put a hand on his elbow.
“Those claws! God, those claws… and scales… and…”
She slipped her arms around her father and hugged him. Seeing a Dragon carry your daughter home
was bad enough. A shock that could drive a lesser man mad. But to face one in full rage… to feel its roar shake your body… to be rocked by the buffets of its wings… That was too much to ask. She trusted Brandon. In her heart, she knew he would never harm her.
Her father had no such faith. Hannah prayed that the sight of Brandon’s true power would make Dad fear her Mate.
No, not her ‘Mate’. Hannah winced at how easily that word popped into her mind. How natural it felt. She had to stop thinking of Brandon that way, or she’d never find the strength to stay true to her family.
Still, Mate or no, Brandon was a loyal guardian. An honorable man who didn’t deserve to be feared by those he protected with his life. “Dad, come on.” She gave him a gentle shake, hoping to nudge him away from the edge of his panic. “Let’s go home.”
“But he… they…” Dad’s eyes scanned the sky for any sign of the two Shifters.
“Brandon,” she stressed his name, “will take care of this.”
At least she prayed he would.
“There’s nothing we can do. C’mon. It’s cold. Let’s go back to Danny and Mom. I’m sure Brandon will meet us back there.”
On leaden feet, her father followed her. At first, he stumbled, blind to the roots and rocks underfoot. But as they left the magic Wellspring and entered the woods – woods her father had played in as a boy – he grew calmer. To Hannah’s relief, the comfort of familiar lands took the edge off his fear. Every step took them, literally and spiritually, a little further from the shock of warring Dragons. By the time they reached the edge of the farm, Dad had regained control of himself. Though he was still pale and damp with sweat, he stayed steady on his feet.
And he didn’t even flinch when they rounded the corner of the porch to find Brandon, back in human form, sitting on the step beside Mrs. Grishom’s abandoned jacket.
“Brandon!” He was alive! Safe! Hannah’s heart leaped as she dashed to his side.
Her Dragon drew back from her. For one moment, his eyes, dark with grief, met hers. Then he hung his head, unable to meet her gaze.
He was… ashamed? Her delighted charge slowed, stopped. “Are you alright? Is he… is LeMar dead?”