Dragon Eternal, page 22
Amsden leaned his skinny frame against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. Anger rolled off him in waves as he glared at her. “How did you do it?”
“Do what?” she asked coyly.
His nostrils flared. “Don’t play with me. How did you get Shaw to fall in love with you?”
She smiled serenely so he didn’t see how scared she was. “I was taught the art of sex and seduction. Done correctly, I can have anyone eating out of my hand.”
“Once again, you’ve proven how resourceful you are.”
Nia’s stomach clenched. The compliment was anything but. “I do what the Divine asks of me.”
“So, you do,” the steward said with a sneer.
Now she wished she were standing. He might be against the wall, but he was so much taller. Right now, she didn’t like anything that put her at a disadvantage. “Is the Divine displeased with me?”
“On the contrary.”
The derision in his voice only made her more nervous. Her stomach churned as her blood turned to ice. “I don’t understand your anger.”
“Do you really think you’ll get your freedom?”
“It’s what the Divine offered if I delivered a Dragon King. Shaw is here.”
Amsden barked a laugh as he dropped his arms and pushed away from the wall. He stalked to her and put his finger against her forehead before shoving her against the back of the settee, his face contorting with fury and satisfaction.
He loomed over her for a moment. Of all the people to bully her, it had to be him. Normally, Nia would play the part everyone expected of her, but being with Shaw had shown her another way. She straightened and watched Amsden warily. What she wouldn’t do for a weapon. Or a Dragon King.
“With all the things you know, do you honestly think you’ll get to walk out of Stonemore?” He bent and put his mouth near her ear. “How naïve of you.”
Her flesh crawled with fear. Nia tried to move away and get to her feet, but Amsden grabbed her and shoved her onto the cushions. Before she knew it, he had her on her back. Everything Shaw had taught her went straight out of her head. She tried to push Amsden away. Despite his lanky frame, he was stronger than he looked.
The sound of ripping material yanked her from her shock. Shaw’s voice filled her head. Focus. Strike the eyes, nose, throat, and groin. Any one of those will incapacitate your attacker.
Amsden had her hands over her head and held them there with a secure hold. She attempted to wiggle loose. He shifted to grab her hips. It was all the time she needed to jerk up her knee, connecting with his groin. He let out an outraged cry and fell to the side, clutching himself. Now free, Nia rolled from the settee to her feet.
She only got one step before a hand clamped around her ankle and yanked it back. She pitched forward, landing heavily on the floor and banging her forehead against it. Pain radiated outward like a blast. Dots swam in her vision.
Nia fought against the darkness pulling her under. She refused to become unconscious and let Amsden have her body. With her eyes open and blinking, she clawed at the floor while he continued tugging her back. Finally, she rolled over and attempted to kick him with her free leg. He anticipated that and laughed as he shoved her foot away.
“I watched that night the priest took you,” Amsden said. “I saw all of it. How he couldn’t control himself. And how you didn’t fight. It’s always been fun to watch.”
Fury consumed her. She tried to kick him again and again. He couldn’t dodge them all. The few she landed made her smile, but him managing to crawl over her once more wiped away the satisfaction. Then he backhanded her.
The pain took her breath. Lights flashed behind her eyes. The darkness tried to take her once more, and she struggled against it. It took more effort this go-round, costing her more time. When she came to, Amsden knelt between her legs with his trousers open and his dick in his hand.
Panic shot through her until she realized that he was limp. A laugh bubbled out of her. “What’s wrong? You can’t get hard when someone’s fighting you?”
“Shut your fucking mouth. It’s your job to get me hard. Do it!” he commanded.
She glared at him. “No.”
“Do. It.”
“Never.”
“By the time I’m finished with you, no one will want you,” Amsden threatened.
Something snapped inside Nia. She sat up and quickly jabbed the stiffened fingers of her hand like a blade to his throat. His eyes bugged as he gasped and choked. She shoved him away and scrambled to her feet as she hurried from the room, closing the door behind her.
She glanced around to see if anyone was near. When she didn’t see anyone, she looked down at herself. Her sleeve was torn, and she knew her hair was a mess. She rushed to the servants’ quarters. Nia’s foot slipped on one of the stairs, and she tumbled down the last few of them.
The world went black. She had no idea how long she was out before she opened her eyes. Her head swam with dizziness. She had to use the wall to get to her feet. Everything hurt, and she wasn’t sure how she would get out of the citadel to find Merrill looking as she did. It wouldn’t be long before someone found Amsden, or he found others and ordered everyone to look for her. Nia swiped at the useless tears and straightened from the wall, only to come face-to-face with several servants.
“Stop staring and help,” Corrine said as she descended the stairs to come even with Nia.
Nia looked at the courtesan in confusion.
Corrine smiled. “Come on. Let’s get you changed and your hair fixed.”
“They’ll punish you for helping me.”
“Not if they don’t find out.”
Nia glanced at the servants.
“We’ve all had to deal with Amsden’s attention. You’re the first who fought back.”
Nia glanced back up the stairs, her thoughts on Shaw. Her entire body hurt, but there was no way she could leave the citadel in her current state. Going with Corrine might lead to her death, but what choice did she have?
Corrine’s arm was gentle as it wrapped around her and guided her. It wasn’t long before they were in the courtesan’s room. The beautiful, black-skinned courtesan was gentle as she helped Nia remove her torn clothing and put on new ones. Corrine tossed Nia’s ruined garments into the fire before sitting Nia down to redo her hair.
“There,” Corrine said with a smile, meeting Nia’s gaze in the mirror.
Nia turned to face her and grabbed her arm. “I owe you.”
A calculating grin curved Corrine’s lips. “Yes, you do. Now, go so I can call in my marker later.”
The atmosphere of the city had changed. Merrill walked from the bar onto the street. Mothers hurried their children into buildings. Men kept their gazes on the ground, seemingly too afraid to meet anyone’s eye.
And the soldiers watched all of it with gleeful enjoyment.
The resentment inside Merrill festered. The best thing for everyone would be for him to find his mountain on Dreagan and sleep. Too bad for everyone in Stonemore that couldn’t happen. Merrill looked at the sky. It appeared as if someone had drawn a horizontal line. Above it was a deep blue. Below it, everything was vibrant orange and coral. It didn’t last long as the mountains swallowed the last bit of sun, devouring it and sending them into darkness.
Merrill had never minded shadows or the night. They hid so very much. Monsters lived in the dark. If Stonemore wanted to see a monster, he would show them one.
His head swiveled so he regarded the citadel. Shaw and Nia were there. He should be with Shaw, not waiting for something to happen so he could join the battle. Because there would be combat. No ruler lined the streets with soldiers without preparing for a fight.
Merrill suddenly realized that he was alone on the street with the soldiers. The door of the pub behind him slammed shut with finality. He smiled as he dropped his gaze to the soldiers. Their fear and apprehension filled the air.
“This is almost too easy,” he murmured.
Chapter Thirty-Four
There was no room to shift. Shaw could do it, but he’d possibly send the citadel crashing down around everyone, including Nia. He couldn’t take that chance. So, he battled the men and women who swarmed him.
They wore formfitting, sleeveless tunics showing armbands. He’d seen the likes of which with one other—Jeyra. As Shaw used his body to defend himself, he realized that these people were from Orgate. The very city that had trapped two dragons and tortured them for years. They hadn’t taken kindly to Jeyra’s betrayal, or news of her choosing a Dragon King over them.
Shaw kept calling to Merrill and Cullen, but no one answered. And his sword wouldn’t appear either. He’d felt an oppressive presence when he came into the room, but it’d never entered his mind that something would hinder his magic.
He knew his power, an innate ability like shifting, wouldn’t be affected. But there were at least two dozen warriors. Despite his skill and speed, some of their weapons managed to connect, drawing blood. It infuriated him. He could end them in a split second if he wanted. Didn’t they realize who they fought? Shaw used his power of illusion to appear in several places in the room.
The warriors didn’t know who to fight. They each went after one of him, and Shaw spun around and slammed his elbow into the face of a redhaired warrior near him. Blood spurted from the warrior’s nose as bone cracked. Shaw then dropped to one knee and grabbed another warrior’s leg, yanking. The man landed hard on his back. Shaw rolled atop him and grabbed the man’s hand that held the sword. After wrestling it from him, Shaw was back on his feet.
He lost count of the number of warriors he killed. Though he did catch sight of the woman who had been with him when he first entered. Daelya hunkered in a corner, her eyes glued to him—the real him, not one of his illusions. She must be the one who’d told the Divine who he was. But Daelya had warned him. Why? That would be something he’d find out later. Right now, he had to stop this fight.
Just as he started to turn, Shaw saw a finely dressed, blond-haired woman and a bearded man in the same attire of the warriors watching him. They both stood outside of the battle, seemingly unconcerned for their safety. That sent warning bells off in his head.
A blade sliced across his back. Shaw felt every inch of it. He arched in pain and spun around. That’s when he caught sight of the balcony. He grabbed hold of the warrior he was fighting and shoved him through the open doors, over fallen bodies and out into the open. Shaw peeled back his lips and sank his blade into the man’s chest before turning around, ready to shift and put an end to all of this.
The explosion came from inside the room. The shockwave sent him tumbling backward, debris cutting and biting into his flesh as it flew into him. He slammed into something hard, and then there was nothing but air. Shaw heard screaming. On instinct, he reached out his hand and grasped hold of something. He blinked until his eyes came into focus and found himself dangling from the mountain face below the balcony.
Shaw was about to pull himself up when he felt something. It was unlike anything he had felt before. He wasn’t even sure what it was. A person? An animal? Something else? But it was there. Though it made no sense, he felt as if it were trying to communicate with him. Shaw wanted to release his hold and fly to find Nia, but something compelled him to stay.
And he feared that something was the same thing he felt.
Besides, there were things he needed to learn. Who was the woman who’d told him to run? Who was the couple watching the battle? How the hell had the Orgate warriors come to Stonemore and the citadel? Not to mention, he still wanted to find the Divine.
Shaw used his strength to flip up and over the balcony to land on his feet. His illusions were gone. A few Orgate warriors rolled on the floor, wounded, but none looked as though they would get up and attack. Which was too bad because he was in the mood for a fight now.
He stepped over bodies, searching for Daelya. He found her inside near the corner where he’d last spotted her lying on her side. Shaw hurried to her and pulled away the bodies that had ended up on top of her. He checked her pulse. It was faint but steady. He scanned the room to find the couple. He found the woman lying unconscious, but the man was gone.
Shaw started to the blonde when he noticed the door in front of him. It was the same one that had garnered his attention when he first walked into the room. His feet moved of their own accord toward it. Even when he knew he should turn away and find Nia, he remained. His hand rested on the handle, ready to open it.
“Don’t.”
He snapped his head to the side to find Daelya. A thick stream of blood ran from a head wound, then down her cheek and onto her clothes. “What’s inside?”
“The reason you were brought here.”
Shaw frowned. “The Divine, then?”
Daelya shook her head. “Something much worse.”
Questions formed at the same time his hand turned the handle of its own accord. Daelya’s eyes widened, her mouth opening on a scream. Shaw couldn’t stop himself as the door cracked open. He turned his head to look inside when Daelya shoved him aside. Shaw sprawled on his back, watching helplessly as she was sucked into the room, the door slamming shut behind her.
A war cry split the air behind him. Shaw tore his eyes from the door to find a warrior with a long, light brown beard laced with gray coming at him with a double-edged war axe. Shaw called to his sword. This time, it appeared. The pommel filled his hand instantly. He brought the weapon up in time to stop the attack.
“You’ll pay for what you’ve done!” the warrior bellowed.
Shaw shoved him away and jumped to his feet. “Pay for what?”
“Taking what was ours.” The warrior sneered, hate and fury blazing in his gray eyes.
He realized this was the same man who had been standing with the woman. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Your kind made one of ours betray us.”
“Your anger is blinding you. You betrayed Jeyra.”
That only enraged the warrior more. They circled each other, waiting for the perfect chance to strike. “I’ve come for my revenge.”
“Against a Dragon King? The odds are no’ in your favor.”
The man smirked. “We held one before.”
“Good luck getting a second.” Shaw lunged as he swung his blade down, the tip of his sword slicing the warrior’s neck.
The man blinked in shock as his lips moved, but no words came. He grasped his wound as blood flowed between his fingers before he dropped to his knees. He was dead before his body hit the floor.
Shaw felt the pull toward the door again, but he kept his gaze away from it. He walked out onto the balcony and heard the battle below. “Merrill? Do you have Nia?”
But Merrill didn’t answer him. Shaw looked at the dead around him. He had more questions now and no one to answer them. Then he thought of the blonde. He started toward her when he heard screams from within the citadel.
“Nia,” he said as he rushed from the room.
It felt so good to let the anger out. Merrill struck down soldier after soldier. He never attacked, but if they came at him, he ended it. It was how it had always been. He might never start a fight, but he always finished them.
When he lifted his head, he was breathing heavily. He looked down at his hands. They were coated in blood. So was the rest of him. He blinked it out of his eyes as his gaze moved over the lifeless bodies lying around him in a circle, some stacked on top of others. With the sounds of battle gone, the city was eerily quiet.
Merrill’s eyes moved down the street to where he found a group of soldiers clumped together, watching him as if he were some crazed demon that needed to be put down. Shite, maybe he was. A look behind him showed more soldiers. But none of them appeared to have any inclination to come at him. He wouldn’t either with the pile of dead around him.
The explosion had set everyone off. A portion of the citadel had blown away while men screamed as they tumbled down from the lofty height. Merrill didn’t see any of those men shift, so he knew none of them were Shaw. That didn’t mean Shaw wasn’t in trouble, though. He had taken a step to go and find out about his friend when the first soldier had struck him. The blade had sliced into his upper arm. That was all it took for Merrill’s attention to shift to the men around him.
He made his way over the pile of dead and headed toward the soldier who’d waited at the end. When he reached the group, the soldiers parted, moving away from him quickly. Even the priest soldiers kept their distance while eying him suspiciously. Merrill didn’t care. Not about the humans or the war Brandr and Eurwen were trying to avert. It didn’t matter what the Kings or dragons wanted. The humans always dictated what happened. They were always in control, somehow, even though they didn’t have magic.
And, frankly, Merrill was sick of it.
Someone had to remind the mortals who had the power. Who could wipe them out. He hadn’t planned on it being him, but now that it was, he wasn’t sorry. About any of it. If anyone else stood in his way, he’d react the same. He was done pushing aside his emotions, ignoring the ache deep within him. There was no running from the misery within any longer.
It had rested in him, eating away at everything he was. Leaving him a shell of what he’d once been.
He continued from the fourth to the fifth level. The gate was barred—as if that would stop him. He shifted and took to the sky. Screams sounded as humans caught sight of his true form. Merrill ignored them and flew straight to the citadel. He returned to human form on the broken balcony, his eyes taking in the clothing of the dead.
“Orgate,” he murmured.
This meeting had been a trap. Wrath burned hotly as Merrill strode inside the room. There were three doors other than the one to the balcony. Two of them, one on either end of the room, were open. It was the one directly opposite him that was closed. He frowned, sensing something within.
Merrill stared at the door. He wanted to go to it and see what was inside. It was important. He could feel it. Just as he felt something attempting to communicate with him. Was there some creature within? Someone with magic being held? If so, he would free them.
