King of Avalon: a Dragon Shifter Paranormal Romance (Rise of the Elder Gods Book 2)

by Vivienne Savage

  “That’s what I’m talking about!” Ares shouted as he landed atop the edge of one building to observe Gaia’s funeral pyre.

  A flash in the distance revealed Galahad and Percivale stepping through a portal further up the shore, where they used their blessed weapons to hack up a burrowing vine that had fled the flames. Nimue’s icy magic turned the sand into ice and withered the plant life that would have offered Gaia an escape.

  “We can’t be sure she’s dead yet. Not until her heart is ash,” Arthur said.

  “Not even then.” Ares shook his head. “No part of her can remain intact. Not a single seed. We…” Ares trailed and went still.

  Arthur knew what troubled the volcanic dragon long before he and Loki jerked around to face the horizon. It could only be their creator. Pazuzu.

  Wherever Perses went, Pazuzu often followed, though the latter proved more virulent and uncontrollable than his sire. They were fortunate in this instance that Pazuzu was alone and that Perses had his hands occupied by Zeus, Hera, Freyja, and Thor in Berlin with Hyperion.

  The misty wind sweeping in from the ocean threatened to put out the enormous Gaian bonfire, but the true purpose of the windstorm didn’t become apparent until the warnings of severe turbulence came from the military crew.

  “It’s not a natural storm,” Arthur warned. “Our last transmission data said Pazuzu was in the Middle East. He’s here. Now. It’s time for you to retreat.”

  “We haven’t dropped the bomb,” one pilot said with urgency.”

  “You heard him,” Ian cut through. “Pull out. We can return to her corpse later.”

  Out of control with a damaged rotor, one helicopter spun out and crashed into an evacuated building. Arthur sensed no life within and hoped he was right. The only blessing was that the pilot ejected mere seconds before impact and hung suspected by parachute. Swearing under his breath, he leaned forward with both wings spread, but his mother arrived and flew the pilot to safety.

  Arthur swore under his breath. “What can we do to help them?”

  The Titan hadn’t made his appearance yet, but the signs of him preceded his arrival by over a hundred miles.

  “The military has done their part,” Ares said, gesturing with a claw to Gaia’s skeletal remains, the core of her like a green heartwood resistant to burning. “We must cover their retreat and rescue what we are able. The vampires can take over from here and sift through the cinders. He’s too late to help her.”

  “I’m the swiftest among us. I’ll play catch with the choppers,” Loki offered before taking off quick as a black lightning bolt, not a moment too soon as several jets spun out of control. Two, including the craft carrying Ian, managed to correct their flight pattern, but a chopper lost its blade and started to go down.

  Not long after the destruction began, Pazuzu came into view on the horizon.

  The legends claimed he had initially been another creation of Perses and that, in his jealousy, Pazuzu swallowed all other gods of destruction and absorbed their gifts.

  How he had crossed the vast stretch of the ocean became apparent when he came closer. A being of both shadow and living flesh sat upon cloudlike matter and black storm clouds. Gaia had crossed through the Earth to her husband’s side, but Pazuzu had flown across it within minutes.

  One sweep of his arm sent a powerful current into the military aircraft and foiled Loki’s desperate attempts to save them all. As fast as he could interfere and catch them with claws or tail.

  Pazuzu only laughed. “Look at you, my misguided child. So desperate to save humans who would only carve the hide from your body to produce handbags and overpriced attire. I have half a mind to let you rescue them to only experience the disappointment of their ingratitude.”

  Loki ignored him. If anything, he worked more desperately, falling in and out of space to pull off an impossible feat. Arthur and Ares fought with all of their power alongside the other dragons to reach Pazuzu, but the winds buffeted them in an unbreachable barrier.

  “I can’t get through!” Belenos shouted.

  “None of us can!” Arthur yelled back over the ferocious winds beating him in the face. You are nothing more than boots to them. But you, you Loki, you were always my favorite. Aid me, and I will forgive you. I will even cherish and provide for the half-blooded wife you took. I’ll treat her like one of our own. A Titan.”

  Loki faltered, all that it took for one aircraft to slip through his claws.

  The lake water rose up and caught the spiraling helicopter, bringing it safely down to the shoreline before receding away.

  “Styx.” The name left Pazuzu’s lips as a hiss. “But you’re dead.”

  “Not so much.”

  Their clashing powers stirred the water and the sky. Dark clouds formed over the lake, and sharp winds whipped the water into a frenzy. Astrid called a warning as the first waterspout formed. A second and third soon followed, each one converging around the two Titans as they fought for control. Each strike of their weapons became thunder and lightning.

  “Arthur, we have a situation.” Nimue’s voice crackled across the communications. “The vampires have been compromised. Dimitri says they hear Pazuzu calling to them.”

  “Shit.”

  His gaze snapped back to the battle between Pazuzu and Styx. Dark energy corkscrewed out from their enemy and crept in black tendrils toward the city. In all the chaos and frantic preparations, Arthur had forgotten that the Titan was the creator of the vampires.

  “How bad is it?”

  “They’re resisting, but the call is powerful. He needs to be taken down before we’re attacked by our own ranks.”

  “Rendezvous with Warren and Benjamin. Prepare whatever defenses are necessary. And Nim… Be careful.”

  The urge to race for the city and swoop her to safety resonated through his entire being, but more than anything, Arthur had faith that Nimue would handle the crisis with the vampires. His part was here, taking down the damned Titan for good.

  Arthur veered away, using the winds to propel him around the battlefield to conserve his strength. The flames consuming Gaia continued to burn, and he made every effort to ensure that not a single creeper vine survived while doing whatever he could to aid Styx. Not that she seemed to require his help. The river goddess whipped her silver spear over her head, conjuring a tidal wave that rose higher than she stood. The churning wall of water slammed into Pazuzu and knocked aside his blade, then doubled back without threatening the city beyond and enveloped the dark Titan. Arthur perched on a crane at the port and stared in satisfaction at the display.

  “The water is exceptionally powerful, is it not?” Loki asked as he landed beside Arthur.

  “It is. But why? I thought Styx was weakening.” The remaining two water dragons certainly lacked the strength to create such a torrent encompassing the Titan from head to toe within a sphere of water he seemed incapable of escaping.

  “It would appear she has much help. Oceanus and Tethys are here, lending their strength.”

  “They’re on our side?”

  Loki’s fanged grin widened. “They are. I imagine it must have been quite threatening to them when the rest of their brethren began to fall. Had they chosen a side in the future?”

  “I didn’t even know they existed,” Arthur muttered.

  “Such is the way of cowards.”

  “Either way, they’ve chosen our side.” Arthur stretched his wings, scarcely able to believe victory was nearly theirs. While it was too early to celebrate, they’d already received favorable reports from Berlin and Capetown that other Titans were falling. “Ready to end this?”

  “Ready on your command.”

  “Then let’s do this.”

  Together, he and Loki took flight and sped toward Pazuzu. Styx tightened her watery sphere around the Titan’s head, leaving his chest bared to the two dragons. Acid and lightning merged together, boring a hole right through his rotten heart.

  With that, they slew another horror w
ith less than a choked gurgle to announce his passing. He deserved nothing more.

  Sixteen

  As the last of the violent Titans fell, triumphant celebration broke out across the globe with Arthur’s name at the center of it all. He drifted on a sea of congratulations and appreciation as dragons, sorcerers, vampires, and all others converged on him, but all Nimue wanted was five minutes alone with the man she loved.

  With her obligations complete, Nimue stepped away from it all and vanished home to the Violet Hour. The rooftop became her safe haven from the crowd and attention.

  She stood there, for the longest hour of her life before magic ignited in the air behind her, and Arthur emerged through a portal brimming with draconic power.

  Her feet developed willpower of their own. Nimue rushed toward him.

  “Finally,” Arthur said when she collided with his chest. He chuckled against the top of her head and held her close. “I asked Loki to get me the hell away, and he knew precisely where I needed to be.”

  The corner of her mouth quirked. She couldn’t help but smile against his chest. He smelled clean and no longer stained with the blood of his enemies. “He would. He is among the wisest of the dragons, is he not?”

  “Indeed he is.”

  “I would have expected you to revel in the hero-worship for a while longer.”

  Such arrogant and conceited fondness for the approval of others had been typical of Arthur in the past. All of his worst traits had been obliterated, seemingly by one lifetime of love and nurturing.

  Everything about the current Arthur fulfilled the prophecy once told, and she saw the king he was always destined to be: majestic and caring, loyal and patient, powerful and courageous, humble and loving.

  “You’ve changed so much, Arthur. Sometimes I can’t believe you’re you, but then you smile at me, and...and I see the same smile from the forest.”

  “I like to think that I’m still me. Just a better me. Maybe I’m just the me I should have been all along.”

  “You are.”

  Then a silence fell between them, and for those moments, all she needed was the steady thud of his powerful heartbeat against her ear. She listened with her eyes closed and relished every moment of warmth.

  “I owe you an apology. Duty may have blinded me then, but I was a fool to ignore how I felt about you, Nimue. If you never forgive me in entirety, I will have earned it. But all I can do now is ask what I should have from the very beginning. Will you marry me? Will you be my queen?”

  “Arthur…” Centuries later, he’d finally uttered the words Nimue had longed to hear more than anything else in all the realms. They struck her speechless. “I…” Emotion clenched her throat and robbed her of words.

  Nimue decided the moment needed no words. She threw both arms around his neck and decided to never let go.

  One thing Arthur knew in his heart was that his time was coming to an end. They had accomplished the impossible and changed the future for what he hoped was the better. It had to be, with the Titans dead, the corrupted knights sealed away, and the entire supernatural world joined in common purpose.

  His future—his life as he knew it—no longer existed. That realization meant he didn’t have much more time before nature and destiny set everything right.

  He had no idea how or when it would happen, only that an impending sense of urgency compelled him to make his final goodbyes, even as his memory and his head increasingly felt like scrambled eggs. The simplest things seeped from his memory. His mind became a sieve, and moments from the unmade future became the first events to slip through.

  Hiding it from Nimue proved impossible.

  “It’s coming,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “Do you want me to stay?”

  He took her hands in his and brought them to his lips, taking one deep breath, dragging in her scent. “I want you to remember last night. That’s the final vision I want you to keep of me.”

  However it happened, he had no desire for his love to see him vanish away. Understanding shone in her eyes, coupled with strength.

  “I’ll never forget, Arthur. Never.”

  Nimue gave him a gentle push backward, and the world shifted around him, fading from her suite at the Violet Hour to his mother’s living room. Somehow, finding Warren and Merlin there with his mother came as no surprise. Of all the people he loved and respected most, it had to be them.

  “You’re here.” He smiled, relieved and touched beyond measure, and comforted by their presence.

  “Of course we are,” Astrid said. She opened her arms and he walked straight into her embrace. He hugged her tight, briefly lifting her from the floor before setting her down again. Astrid stole a quick kiss to his cheek before she stepped away.

  “I wanted to thank you. All of you,” Arthur said, looking from one face to the next. “I couldn’t have done this alone.”

  “You don’t have to thank us for doing what was right.” Warren smiled and offered his hand. Arthur clasped it happily.

  “You’re a good man, Warren. You'll be a great leader. Are a great leader. Your dad will see that.”

  “I hope so.”

  “He will,” Arthur insisted. Then he turned to Merlin, words catching in his throat. The wizard had been with him for centuries, as mentor and guide, friend and father figure. He owed the old man much, and no words seemed to be enough to express his gratitude.

  “We knew this moment had to come, old friend,” Merlin said to him. “I don’t look forward to saying goodbye to you, but….”

  “It isn’t a goodbye,” Arthur said quickly, furious with the way his eyes burned with unfamiliar emotion. He hadn’t even cried when his parents died. He hadn’t cried on the day Guinevere died, nor had it moved him any time his fellow knights fell in combat or to old age.

  “That’s right,” Astrid said. “We’ll see you again, baby. We see you every night, and when we tuck you in, I’ll be able to tell you of the amazing things you’ll do, not because I have my faith in you, but because I’ve seen you do them.”

  “I never got to tell you what an amazing mother you were. Are.” His voice thickened. “I love you, Mom.”

  “And we love you. So, so much.”

  “Hey...can I say goodbye to him—to me?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Astrid said with slight reluctance while Merlin and Warren exchanged glances.

  Despite the doubt etched in Merlin’s weary face, Warren chuckled. “Let him. We can’t fuck destiny up any more than we already have, right? Go for it, Arthur.”

  “Thanks.”

  He remembered the way to his old bedroom. Galahad looked up from the floor where he was reading young Arthur a book, brows both raising. They had already said their goodbyes, but understanding shone in his father’s eyes.

  “Hey, buddy, someone special wants to talk to you.”

  Arthur’s younger self hugged a stuffed dragon close to his chest. “Okay.”

  Galahad kissed the top of his head and then stood, taking a quick moment to stretch out his back. “I’ll be just outside.”

  “Thanks. For everything.”

  His father clasped his arm and squeezed, saying more in that action than could ever be spoken in words. Then he left the room.

  “Hey there, kiddo.” Arthur lowered to one knee. The four-year-old boy before him hadn’t yet seen his family decimated by war, he didn’t recall years of dragon-hunting, and he certainly didn’t remember the woman Arthur had come to love more than his own life.

  “Hi,” young Arthur said shyly, hiding behind his stuffed toy.

  “That’s a nice dragon you have there.”

  “It’s my gramma.” Feeling more comfortable, young Arthur held out the white and silver plushie for his inspection.

  “She’s very pretty. You’re lucky to have such a special grandma.” He touched the stuffed dragon’s head with one finger. “I hope you know how lucky you are.”

  The toddler giggled and hugged his dragon close ag
ain, then nodded.

  “I just wanted to come and say goodbye and to tell you to have an amazing life. Be good to your folks. Listen to them. Can you do that?”

  His younger self nodded.

  “Good.”

  Only one thing remained.

  Arthur summoned Excalibur to his hand. It gleamed with brilliant light as he offered it to his younger incarnation. Small fingers touched its hilt.

  Peace.

  Epilogue

  23 Years Later

  “Earth to Nimue.” Saoirse snapped her fingers then waved her hand in her friend’s face. “Are you okay, my lady? You’ve been in a daze all day.”

  Nimue snapped out of her daydream. Heat rose to her cheeks. “Sorry. I was thinking of something.” About someone, rather, but she knew the changeling would only tease her if she knew the Lady of the Lake had been captivated by a memory of events over two decades ago.

  Worse than that, Saoirse may have pitied her. That was the last thing Nimue wanted, though she often thought of that day.

  What good was a bonding and confession of undying love if he would no longer remember the time they shared? Technically, the version of him no longer existed, and were it not for the one gift Arthur left behind, she’d have no proof he’d been present at all.

  Several times since that night, Nimue had wept bitter tears, and what brief connection they’d had that day, sometimes burned in the way she imagined an amputee felt the ghostly tingling of their phantom limb. Her Arthur was there, and he wasn’t. The Arthur who loved her, who had pledged his devotion to her, no longer existed at all. Every so often, when Nimue lay in bed alone staring at her ceiling, that realization stabbed the knife into her heart and twisted.

  This was why the fae abhorred the unnatural.

  This was why all magical beings of good senses had forbidden time travel. Mab had warned her, yet her mother had taken no delight in the way she suffered. Nimue expected gloating. Instead, the ancient fae had only drawn her close and said nothing at all.