Only For Her Dragon (Dragon Guard Series Book 6) Page 17

A heat caused by more than passion, combined with wisdom even greater than his hundred years, shone out at her. Aaron lowered his mouth to hers, stopping just as their lips touched, and whispered, “Ta’ mo chroi istigh ionat,” before capturing her lips with his.

  It was as if Aaron was everywhere. Charlie was consumed with a heat that set her ablaze from the inside out. She was laid open…body, heart, and soul, to her mate.

  There was a sting on the left side of her neck that made her try to pull back. Aaron left her lips, trailing kisses across her jaw and down her neck, reaching the tender spot that had stung only a moment before. He licked and sucked the offending spot until all thoughts of anything but their naked bodies loving one another were banished from her mind.

  Her fingers wound through his hair as he continued to lavish her neck and shoulders. She pulled his mouth to hers, kissing him until they were both breathless. Aaron pulled back and it was then that she saw the glint of a little boy with a secret in his eyes. She cocked one eyebrow in mock anger and asked, “What exactly are you up to, Mr. O’Brien?”

  “Oh, nothing,” he joked before picking her up and carrying her back to her chair. “There are two really quick things we need to take care of before they come looking for us. One, is I want you to meet my dragon…face to face. If that’s all right with you?”

  “Of course it is.”

  He smiled like a kid at Christmas and jogged across the meadow. Stopping well out of range of her and everything else, Aaron stripped to just his pants, looked her right in the eye, and said, “Watch this.”

  Charlie’s skin tingled as if hundreds of butterflies were landing on her right before her mate turned into a huge silver dragon with a black underbelly. Aaron lay down and chuffed in her direction as she heard his voice in her head, “Come over. I don’t bite.”

  “Now, I know that’s a lie.” She laughed aloud, making her way toward the dragon.

  The front of his snout and nostrils were black and led to numerous peaks and valleys running from his nostrils to his eyes. Charlie had never imagined there could be so many variations of the color silver, not to mention all the different patterns his scales made, and she’d only made it as far as his face. It was mesmerizing.

  The scales around his eyes were much lighter, almost translucent, and smaller than any other she could see. They were layered together in a protective manner that also accentuated the large blue crystalline orb looking down at her.

  A row of imposing spikes started in the middle of his head, growing in length and width as they ran down the entire the length of his spine, and ending just before his tail. Glancing back to his head, she saw he also had two very lethal looking horns growing from his brow ridge and curling back over his cranium for at least six feet.

  She walked closer, placing her hand on the side of his muzzle, rubbing as she moved towards his wings. His were nothing like hers. For one thing, they were gigantic, even folded into his sides, with thin cartilage resembling veins running throughout. The skin felt like a heavy raw silk to the touch.

  Making her way back to the front of the beast, she likened his scales to hand blown glass, but the longer she touched them, the more she could feel their incredible strength. Placing one hand next to the other, she massaged under his jaw, feeling how much softer and thinner the scales were there.

  Charlie walked all the way around his head, making her way to his hindquarter and back paw. She laughed aloud when faced with the huge appendage, before teasing, “I could fit between your toes.”

  “Just be careful of the nails, mo ghra’.”

  As she rounded his rear end and came to his tail, she was reminded that these creatures had been created to defend. At the end of his really long tail was a huge triangular shaped spade with what she could only think to call tail-spikes covering the entire surface. One swipe and Charlie was sure anything and everything in its path would be completely destroyed.

  She walked back to his head, kissed what she guessed was his cheek, and stepped back. Magic filled the air and once again, Aaron stood before her. She noticed a brand, the shape of a flame with fairy wings on either side, at the exact spot where his neck touched his shoulder. Reaching out, she touched the mark and then looked up. Grinning he said, “Yours matches.”

  Her fingers flew to her neck as she remembered the stinging sensation during their kiss. “Well, at least we’re a pair.”

  “That we are,” he agreed, grabbing first his clothes and then her hand before moving her under a large oak tree where a small blanket was expertly placed with an oblong silver box laying in the center.

  Throwing his clothes on the blanket, he pointed to the box and said, “For you, mo chroi.”

  “Dammit, Aaron, I didn’t get you anything,” she scolded with her hands on her hips.

  “Oh yes, you did. You gave me…you.”

  Faster than she could track, Aaron moved to the blanket, picked up the box, and returned to standing before her with her present in hand. Charlie opened the box to find a gorgeous charm bracelet. As she picked it up, she heard the tinkle of little bells and realized that each glittering silver charm was a bell, and in between the bells were teardrops of Alexandrite that exactly matched her ring.

  “The bells are made from my dragon’s scales that I have shed since meeting you.”

  His smile grew as he fastened the bracelet around her wrist. She couldn’t help but give it a little shake, just to hear the tiny bells ring. Before she was able to utter a word, his lips were on hers. Aaron kissed her long and deep, making sure there were no doubts about to whom she belonged.

  Pulling back to catch her breath, Charlie asked, “Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”

  Taking her left hand in his, he raised it to his lips, slowly turning it over until she could feel his breath on her pulse. He held her gaze with his own and laid his lips against her wrist. After several long seconds, she heard his voice in her mind. “Every time a dragon kisses his mate, a bell rings. And I plan to make these little guys sing. ”

  Hugging him as tight as she could and willing herself not to cry and mess up her makeup, Charlie spoke through their bond, “Thank you so very much for everything. I love you to the moon and back.”

  “To the moon and back, huh? I might just take you up on that.”

  EPILOGUE

  He could hear them coming. Smell the musk of wet cat. Hear their footsteps sloshing through the puddles he knew were from last night’s thunderstorms. There was no way the misdirects and traps he’d worked so hard to set could’ve withstood the torrential downpour. He would have no choice….he would have to fight.

  His leg was infected; there was no doubt about it. He was suffering with the first fever of his life, complete with hallucinations. At first, he’d been sure he was dead and by some miracle, in the Heavens with his mother. He could hear her sweet voice and feel her hands upon his face. It had been a dream come true.

  Andrew had tried to apologize. Tried to explain how he’d only played the hand Fate had dealt him, but she would hear none of it. As fair and unbiased as she’d always been, Margarite O’Brien had told him he would need to beg forgiveness from his brothers and their brethren. She’d told him that they owed him a debt as well, but that he’d gone too far and only his brother’s forgiveness, combined with favor from the great Universe and Fate, could absolve him of the atrocities he’d committed against his own kin.

  He’d known she was right but had still sought to plead his case. Somewhere in the middle of his defense, the mother whose death he still grieved morphed into a beautiful young woman with deep brown eyes and hair the color of melted chocolate. Her voice had called to not only him, but also his dragon. For the first time since reemergence, the beast was behaving as Andrew remembered. Gone was the inner turmoil and fighting to return to the clan. It was as if just the vision of the girl was enough to bring his dragon to heel.

  The buzz of mindspeak woke the traitor from his delusion. The Dragon Guard was appr
oaching. They’d been searching the mountain for nearly an hour. He knew he was truly trapped, but he would not cower in the corner like a mouse. No, he was Andrew O’Brien of the mighty Silver Dragons, son of Michael O’Brien II and most of all, the Special One. His last day on earth would not be spent sniveling and begging for his life. He would fight.

  Andrew positioned himself in the longest and most desolate of all the caverns in the cave he presently called home. Its odd shape had afforded him the opportunity to set two traps. There was no doubt in his mind that the werepanthers would sense at least one of them and alert the others, but the time it would take them to dismantle it would give him time to stand and prepare.

  His leg throbbed from just the thought of moving it. The stench of infection filled the small space he’d wedged himself into to await their attack. Andrew figured it was better to die in battle than to wither away from a slow agonizing descent into insanity.

  He mourned that he’d not completed his mission. The dragons would live on. The Dragon Guard would live on. He had never gotten to the use the one spell he was sure would exterminate them all. His brothers, the rotten cowards, would live on. He knew they had made excuses, especially Aidan, for his capture and torture. Hell, the bastard had even tried to apologize to him. Wanted forgiveness for the hell Andrew had been forced to endure because of his cowardice. Even his pretty little mate had tried to plead the bastard’s case.

  Pain shot through his entire body. He shook with chills. Cold sweat soaked his filthy clothes. He prayed to the Heavens and to Hell that someone…anyone but his brothers, would end his pain. There’d been another time he’d prayed the same words and just like today, he’d been ignored.

  Footsteps echoed through the cavern. He could sense his brothers. His dragon chuffed with the need to reunite with its clan mates. Andrew ignored the beast, knowing it was only a matter of minutes before he would die and the dragon’s soul would be released into the Heavens to find another worthy Guardsman waiting to be born. It was he, the man, which would die the forever death. His brothers would strike true. He had no doubt they each carried silver blades to ensure his death. It would be a welcome reprieve from all his years of suffering.

  A rock skittered past the opening of his hidey-hole. Knowing they would be able to pinpoint his location, but wanting the end to come, Andrew reached out with his enhanced senses. The panthers were leading the charge with Aidan, Aaron, and Rian right behind them. They’d taken no chances. Max Prentisse and his Pride, The Blue Thunder Clan, and if he wasn’t mistaken, even Kyra, were all in attendance.

  His chuckled to himself, thinking how infamous he’d become. The Golden Fire Force lead by Rayne MacLendon was known worldwide as the best and most fierce Force of all dragon kin. That the great Commander had called in reinforcements spoke highly of Andrew’s threat to them all. It was a shame he hadn’t been able to make them pay for what they’d done to him, but Fate would not be denied. Those spineless bastards would get what they had coming to them. He knew somehow they would pay, not by his hand, but they would pay.

  When he heard the rattle of the trap he’d set, Andrew pulled himself from his hiding place, picked up his katana and stood at the ready. Pushing back the pain and delirium, he remembered the lessons his father and brothers had taught him. He would give his attackers a fight worthy of the O’Brien name, even if he were sure he’d been disowned.

  Shadows shown long around the corner. The Guardsmen had taken over the lead from the panthers. He could still sense the panthers but knew they would stay behind to catch him if by some chance he eluded the dragons. There was no doubt he would die today, all that was left to be seen was how many of them he would take with him.

  The sounds of boots striking rock reached his ears just as Aaron came into view. He could sense the others stationed throughout the cave…all but Aidan. Somehow, his older brother, the one he truly wanted to face, had disappeared from detection. He shook his head. With his waning strength, he was only able to focus on the threat before him.

  Standing at the ready, he taunted, “They only sent you? Am I so underestimated?”

  “Drop the act, asshole. I know you can tell there are others.”

  “You always were able to call my bluff,” Andrew chuckled.

  “Just drop the sword. It’s over. You lost. You…”

  Aaron’s next words were cut off as a blast rang through the cavern, reverberating over and over off the stone walls. Apparently, the werepanthers weren’t as good at scouting ahead as he’d heard. The one booby trap he’d had enough magic left to create had gone undetected, and from the sounds of it, had injured at least of few of the hunting party.

  Using the distraction to his advantage, Andrew grabbed the ancient volume he’d been translating, the only possession he still had, and ran for the tunnel he’d found the night before. Even drawing on his enhanced speed, dragging his wounded leg proved slower than he had counted on. Aaron’s boots pounded in the dirt floor. Andrew could all but feel his brother’s breath on his neck. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The fight had come to him.

  Tossing the book to the side, Andrew whirled around and lifted his katana just in time to block the thrust of Aaron’s broadsword. Pulling the silver knife from his belt, Andrew swiped back and forth, hoping to push back his brother’s attack.

  During their years of separation, Andrew had forgotten how well his brother could handle a sword. Aaron’s blade was but a blur that Andrew had to work hard to avoid. The sting of a hit ran down his left arm, causing the silver blade to slip in his hand.

  Stepping back, Andrew got one decent advance with a powerful thrust, but Aaron was simply too quick. Their blades clashed, filling the cavern with the sounds of their battle. Andrew could feel the others closing in but fought to keep his attention on his brother. The man he knew would deal the fatal blow.

  Andrew backed off again, this time bumping against the wall…the end of the tunnel. There was nowhere left to go. He poured all his remaining strength into the fight, blocking one blow after another. Aaron was brutal and relentless. The look in his eyes was one of sheer determination.

  Aaron thrust with his right hand, immediately following with a jab of a silver dagger Andrew hadn’t known his brother had. The blade struck true. Andrew groaned in pain. Warm blood wet his shirt and flowed onto his pants from what he felt was a gash about a foot long, but Andrew still refused to go down.

  Swinging his katana like a wild man, Andrew advanced, but Aaron merely smirked and with extreme ease, met him blow for the blow. Every clash of their blades sent crippling pain through every cell of Andrew’s body. It was then he realized Aaron was toying with him, prolonging the fight.

  Andrew tried to reach out with his dragon senses, but his pain and growing weakness left him unable to sense anything but the man before him. Again, Aaron advanced. This time slicing across the thigh of Andrew’s good leg, striking muscles, tendons, and vessels. He toppled to the floor. His vision blurred. But even on his knees, Andrew swung both his blades, praying to draw blood before his death.

  His vision darkened at the edges. He saw a shadow at his right that hadn’t been there before, but chalked it up to another of his feverish delusions and continued to fight. Aaron’s boot on his chest forced him to the ground. Andrew let go of his blades. Heard the clang of metal against the cavern floor.

  The darkness was closing in. His vision narrowed to a pinpoint. He was now seeing double. Andrew laughed, and even to his ears, it sounded maniacal. Aaron’s foot on his chest made every breath unbearable. He waited for his brother to say something…anything, but he only looked at him in disgust. A voice that sounded familiar, but so very far away, echoed through the chamber and Aaron nodded.

  Andrew was only seeing shadows now. Unable to distinguish anything but shapes. More voices. More shadows.

  It must be the Fates coming to take me to hell.

  The rattle of chains bounced off the walls right before fire enveloped his wrists and an
kles. Two sets of eyes–one cobalt, one amber–looked at him with disgust before his world faded to black.

  The reaper is here and the son of a bitch brought silver.

  *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  She had no idea how many days it had been. Her captors rarely let her sleep anymore. Rarely left her alone. It was one torture after another, each more inventive than the last. Mara had come in alone several times, but Calysta had been too weak to speak. The young witch had shoved parchment after parchment in front of her blurry eyes screaming, “Is this the spell?” Over and over until the Grand Priestess thought she might lose her mind.

  Only the knowledge that they would never get their hands on the incantation kept her alive. Their coven was well protected. She knew the protocols that dictated the lockdown and the addition of guards from other covens and the Council since her disappearance. Another layer of protection would have been added to all the artifacts. The bastards could kill her, but there was no way they would ever get a hold of Thanatos.

  She heard the sound of footsteps. The huge iron door to her cell scratched against the stone floor, the smell of Old Spice and nasty magic assaulted her senses. She truly wished the man would at least use cologne that masked his pungent odor instead of adding to it.

  He neared and she prepared for his questioning, or worse yet, another round of the iron knives. They seemed to be his favorite torture devices. Instead, the wizard walked around the stone slab that she felt she was growing to and began setting up an altar.

  Calysta watched as a burlap bag containing the bones that she could only assume had been a child from their size and shape was dumped on the floor. He then set a cage with four huge rats beside them. Five black candles were placed at the points of a pentagram he had drawn with chalk made from Mandrake Root and Black Tang. They were smells she hated…evil and disgusting.

  He built a fire and set up a large metal tripod. Sliding on gloves, he hooked a cast iron pot over the fire. The sizzle and smell of oil infused with Belladonna filled the room. He began to chant in Latin and he added Lobelia, Dandelion, and Mugwort to the pot.