Darkest Flame, page 26
part #1 of Dark Kings Series
“Nay, lass,” he said softly. “If you go to him now, everything the Kings have done today will be for naught as the Dark Fae will focus on you.”
Denae realized that even though Kellan might have wanted a fight because Taraeth touched her, he participated in the battle to keep the Darks’ attention off her.
She turned to Rhi. “Can you get me out of here?”
Rhi’s silver eyes turned to her as she slowly shook her head. “I used too much of my magic today staying veiled and then carting off the Dark Ones so you could remain hidden.”
Damn. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
“He’s not moving,” Denae told Phelan as she stared at Kellan.
The Warrior’s hold refused to loosen. “The only thing that can kill him is another Dragon King. There’s no need to worry, lass.”
As if waiting for Phelan’s words, Kellan stirred and lifted his head before his dragon form got to his feet and stood side by side with the yellow one.
The amber dragon dropped out of the sky to stand beside Kellan, and the burnt orange dragon flew down to stand beside the yellow one.
The sight of all four dragons, their bodies immense, their scales shining in the sun, was surreal. She got her first good look at Kellan, and she was duly impressed.
His metallic bronze scales were the same vivid shade on his back as they were on his stomach. They gleamed as if polished, the sunlight winking off the scales.
His white eyes were like beams of light they were so pale in his large head. Two large horns extended backward from his forehead. What looked like a spiky membrane ran from the base of his skull down his back to the tip of his long tail.
He was stunning and terrifying all at the same time. And she couldn’t get enough of him.
“There is bad blood between humans and Kings,” Rhi said from Denae’s other side.
Denae glanced at the Light Fae, wondering when she had moved.
“Kellan’s hatred runs deep. Or maybe not anymore,” Rhi said with a kind smile as she looked at Denae. “Tell him what you think of him in dragon form. It’s important to them.”
“And you know this how?” Phelan asked.
Rhi tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear. “Keep asking, stud. You might get an answer someday.”
Denae took a step back farther into the grove of trees, and this time Phelan released his hold. She leaned against a tree with the sword still held in her right hand while she watched the four Dragon Kings being pelted with magic from the dwindling forces of Taraeth’s army.
Oddly, Denae couldn’t find Taraeth anywhere on the battlefield. She started to push away from the tree when a hand clamped over her mouth.
“Make a sound and I’ll slit your throat were you stand,” Taraeth whispered in her ear with his Irish accent.
Denae’s heart pounded against her ribs like a drum. Fear, soul-gripping, heart-stopping fear, made her blood run like ice in her veins. Taraeth had her. Again.
She promised herself never to have such fear consume her again, and yet here she was. Denae had allowed herself to believe that she would never be in a Dark Fae’s clutches again. As if tromping through the monster-infested, foul-smelling tunnels to get free wasn’t enough.
“You’re going to come with me,” he said.
She shook her head as much as she could with his hand over her mouth and the tree behind her.
“If you want me to allow Kellan to live, you will.”
Denae nearly laughed out loud. Taraeth made a mistake in threatening Kellan because of two things: Kellan was immortal, only to be killed by another Dragon King … and she had Rhi’s sword.
Whatever distress and anxiety she had from being held by the Dark leader evaporated into nothing. He was just another asshole with a god complex. And she had the means to stop him as she had so many others.
She gave a quick nod of acceptance.
“I knew you were a smart girl. I’ll make you happy, little human. Just you wait and see. I’m going to take my hand away. Not a sound, remember.”
He waited for her to nod again.
Then he continued, “We’ll go back through the doorway. All your troubles with MI5 will cease. There’ll be nothing to worry your pretty head about. I’ll take it all away.”
Denae’s eyes were on Kellan, praying he didn’t look her way, as she slumped weakly against the tree. She had a good plan.
“Exactly,” Taraeth whispered happily. “No more fighting the inevitable. Even had you made it away today, I’d have found you again. You’re too tempting of a morsel, little human.”
He slowly pulled his hand away from her mouth, and when she didn’t make a sound, Taraeth reached for her. Denae whirled around, bringing the sword up to clutch it with both hands.
The world stilled, going into slow motion as she witnessed Taraeth’s red eyes go wide as he spotted the sword. Denae swung the sword down in an arc, intending to take Taraeth’s head so he would never bother her again.
In her anger, she forgot about his magic, so never saw it coming at her, hitting her in the chest. The pain was debilitating. The fingers of her left hand loosened on the sword, and Denae fought to keep the weapon in her right hand even as she felt herself pitching forward.
She squinted as the rays of the sun hit against an amulet Taraeth wore right into her eyes, blinding her for a moment.
Taraeth turned his body away as he raised his arm. The last of Denae’s strength left her as her knees buckled. But she brought the sword down and saw it connect with Taraeth’s arm.
As soon as the blade went through his arm, the world around her returned to normal in a deafening rush. She heard her name shouted behind her, and all she could think about was Kellan and how she’d failed to kill Taraeth.
Denae watched the sword fall from her grip and Taraeth vanish before her eyes. She pitched forward only to be caught in arms she knew all too well.
“I’ve got you,” Kellan whispered.
She blinked up at him, but couldn’t form any words.
“The pain will pass. Just breathe,” he said as his arms tightened.
“That was a killing blow of magic,” Rhi said. “She should be dead. That’s the second time I’ve seen Denae do something no human should be able to.”
Denae didn’t care as long as she survived. With each beat of her heart she was feeling better. Kellan’s big hand pushed aside her hair so he could see her face.
His pale green eyes held a wealth of worry. “I doona know how you did it, but you cut off Taraeth’s arm.”
“Just his arm?” Denae asked. “I was trying for his head.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Kellan couldn’t make himself let go of Denae. Even as the yacht Guy and Laith had driven to Cork cut its way through the Irish Sea back to Scotland.
Thunder rumbled over the roar of the motor and a second later, an impressive display of lightning lit the sky. The storms were a great way for the Kings to fly unnoticed, but for once Kellan wasn’t thinking of taking flight.
He was thinking of the female in his arms.
“She’s not going anywhere, you know?” Phelan said as he reclined on a chair with his arms spread along the back.
Kellan glanced at the Warrior opposite him, noting his irritated expression that hadn’t softened since Rhi had refused to return with them. “Denae could’ve died with the magic Taraeth used against her.”
“But she didna. Just as, for some reason, she didna succumb to the Dark Ones while you were being held. Just as she somehow helped break you from the magical chains.”
Kellan squeezed Denae harder. She hadn’t woken since she had fallen unconscious. He’d already searched her for any injuries, but there had been nothing. That was the only thing keeping him calm.
“She’s special,” Kellan finally said.
Phelan turned blue-gray eyes to him. “Everyone can see she means something to you.”
“I didna want her to.”
“That’s normally how it works. I wasna prepared for Aisley, or the way I couldna stop thinking about her. I was obsessed with having her, holding her. I didna relent until she was mine.”
Kellan merely nodded, because he understood all too well what Phelan was talking about. It was just one of the reasons he wasn’t able to put Denae down on the couch next to him, or even in one of the many rooms on the yacht. He had to hold her against him, to feel her breath fanning him.
“What’s going to happen once you return to Dreagan?”
Kellan shrugged. “I’ve no’ thought that far ahead. I’m still trying to process all that’s happened. What about you? What are you going to do now that you know Tristan is the twin to one of your friends?”
Phelan’s gaze instantly swung to the narrow doorway leading out to the deck of the boat and Tristan, who stood at the railing with his back to them. “He says he has no memories of being Duncan.”
“I doona believe he lies.”
“Nor do I. It’s just … it’s hard. I never met Duncan, but I’ve fought alongside Ian. I heard the stories of Duncan and Ian while Deirdre held them in Cairn Toul Mountain. I know Ian. I know that Tristan is his twin.”
“He just doesna have Duncan’s memories.”
“That’ll kill Ian,” Phelan said as he frowned and turned his head to Kellan. “Ian was lost after Duncan died. He’ll be overjoyed to know Duncan is alive.”
“But is he?” Kellan asked. “None of us can remember the last time a Dragon King was made. I doona know how Tristan became a King, but I do know that he is now ours. There might be a good reason all of his memories of his former life as Duncan Kerr have been wiped.”
“So what do I tell Ian?”
“Perhaps nothing.”
Phelan gave a quick shake of his head. “With the way the Kings and Warriors interact, how long do you think it’ll be before Ian sees Tristan?”
“No’ long.”
“Precisely. Ian has to know.”
Kellan liked Tristan. A lot. It wasn’t just that he was a Dragon King. Tristan had proven himself as someone Kellan could trust. He would do whatever Tristan wanted regarding Ian. If Tristan didn’t want to see his brother from another life, then Kellan would make sure Ian didn’t interfere.
“We’ll protect Tristan.”
Phelan raised a dark brow, an eager light in his eyes. “And we’ll back Ian.”
“This should be interesting.”
“Aye.”
The boat began to slow, the motor no longer as loud as before. Rain pelted the top of the yacht. The ferocity of the rain proved that it was going to be a long storm.
Kellan didn’t stand until the boat was docked and tied off. Before he could take the first step onto the deck, Con blocked the doorway, his blond hair dripping with water and his dark red dress shirt plastered to his chest.
“Is she all right?” Con asked as he nodded to Denae.
“She will be.”
Con’s black gaze shifted briefly to Phelan before he gave a slight nod and walked to stand next to Tristan in the rain.
“Why do I get the feeling he isna happy you’ve brought Denae back?” Phelan asked.
Kellan flattened his lips. He had gotten the same vibe from Con, and it didn’t sit well at all. “I doona give a rat’s arse what he thinks. I make my own decisions.”
“Even living at Dreagan? I get the feeling Con makes the rules.”
Kellan snorted. “He tries. We all tell him to go bugger himself if we doona agree.”
“As would I.”
Kellan stepped in front of Phelan before he could walk out. “Con is a good man. He’ll have your back if you ever need it.”
“Aye, I know.”
“But he’ll also turn on you quicker than you can blink if he feels it’s justified.”
Phelan’s brow furrowed. “Can you give me an example?”
“Ulrik.”
“I’ve heard that name before. He doesna happen to be the King of Silvers, does he?”
“Aye. How did you guess that?”
Phelan paused long enough for Kellan to know that Con had let something slip. Anger filled Kellan. “What did Con tell you about Ulrik?”
“He didna say Ulrik’s name. He asked if we knew anything about a shop in Perth called The Silver Dragon.”
“Shite,” Kellan said and glanced down at Denae in his arms. “Be forewarned, Warrior, when it comes to Ulrik, the Kings have always been divided. We united the first time to stop the war with the humans, but if there was a choice now, none of you would want to be in the middle of that war.”
“Point taken. As much as I want to hear more, I want to get back to Aisley. And I know you want to get Denae out of this weather.”
Phelan was the first onto the deck. When Kellan turned to step outside he found Tristan already walking down the dock, mindless of the rain.
Guy laid a trench coat over Denae, making sure to cover her head. As Kellan followed Guy off the boat, he spotted Phelan running down the dock in the opposite direction from Tristan.
It wasn’t until Kellan was in the Mercedes G-Class with Guy behind the wheel and Con in the front passenger seat that Tristan climbed into the backseat with him.
“She’s still unconscious?” Guy asked.
Kellan nodded as he removed the coat. “Aye.”
“I thought you said nothing was wrong with her,” Con said as he shifted to look in the backseat.
Tristan crossed his ankle over a knee and slowly turned his head to Con. “She was hit with magic while wielding Rhi’s sword and trying to take off a Dark Fae’s head. She deserves to sleep as long as she needs.”
Con looked from Tristan to Kellan. “You expect me to believe Denae survived Dark Fae magic?”
“I doona give a shite what you believe,” Kellan said. “It’s what happened when Taraeth tried to take her again.”
“Taraeth.” Con’s frown grew. “Humans can no’ survive the Dark Fae.”
Kellan ignored Con. “Let’s go, Guy.”
There was a beat of silence before Guy started the engine, a smile on his face.
Not once did anyone mention Rhys or Kiril. Both had opted to return to Dreagan as dragons rather than by boat. Kellan had told Tristan to do the same, but the King of Ambers had refused.
It was obvious Con wasn’t happy. Whether it was from the fact some Kings had gone to Ireland to look for him, that they had battled the Dark without waiting on Con, or that Denae was returning to Dreagan, Kellan didn’t know nor care.
Everything had changed for the Dragon Kings the moment they sent their dragons away. The same rules that had governed the Kings for hundreds of thousands of years no longer applied.
They needed to find their own way, and it was only with the hope that one day the dragons would be returned as well as keeping the Silvers contained that they remained together.
If it wasn’t for the Silvers, Kellan fully believed the Kings would have scattered, not just across the earth, but across the realms.
Con kept the hope alive regarding their dragons, but Kellan knew the truth. Their dragons would never return. The humans were too many. There was no place for dragons on earth, and he was beginning to wonder if there was even a place for Dragon Kings.
Earth had been theirs for millions of years before humans came. The realm was supposed to have been shared, but that had gone to shit in a short time.
The pride of being a Dragon King no longer remained. They were hidden, the secret of their shifting kept tightly guarded. No one knew of their powers or immortality.
Not that he blamed Con and the others for the decisions they had made regarding Dreagan. The humans had always been too easy to riot, too effortless to frighten, and too dense to think for themselves.
They had a pack mentality that was too easy to put into play by a few humans who could rile them into a frenzy and get them to do whatever they wanted.
Even now, with all the technology and paranormal things being found and investigated, the humans wouldn’t accept that there were Dragon Kings. They wouldn’t accept one of the Warriors either.
The humans claimed to want to find beings with paranormal abilities, but it was just a statement. Some would run away screaming in fear, some would try to kill them, and still others would try and capture a Dragon King so they could “study” him. Which everyone knew meant dissecting.
Now Kellan comprehended there would be a few, a very select few, like Denae, Cassie, Elena, and Jane who would accept the Dragon Kings for who they were.
He looked down at Denae to find her cheek resting against his shoulder. Kellan gently tucked her long, coppery brown hair behind her ear.
In the short time he had known her, she’d been stabbed, shot, accosted by the Dark Fae, and belted with a large amount of Dark Fae magic.
She’d taken it all without so much as a grumble. Denae was a trained fighter, with an intelligent, cunning mind. She was easy to smile, quick-witted, and deft with retorts from her sharp tongue.
Her body was amazingly taut, with all the wonderful, feminine curves he’d always enjoyed. She had the most stunning hair, and eyes that held him transfixed from the first moment he’d dared to look into the whisky-colored depths.
The question of what would happen once they reached Dreagan wouldn’t be difficult to answer. He wanted Denae to remain. Kellan might not be ready to offer her forever, but he wasn’t ready for her to leave yet.
He had the perfect argument as well. MI5 was still looking for her, and after cutting off Taraeth’s arm, the Dark Ones would also be after her.
There was no safer place than on Dreagan.
Kellan was confident he could convince Denae to stay, and if words didn’t work, he was prepared to use his hands, mouth, and body to change her mind.
Just thinking of sliding into her tight body again had him hard and aching.
He released a pent-up breath and raised his gaze to find Tristan watching him with a slight smile. Tristan gave him a nod of approval and turned to look out the window at the passing scenery.
Kellan ran a hand through his wet hair and began planning the night ahead with Denae. It would be one without interruptions of any kind, one he vowed she would remember for the rest of her life.
