Chronicles of the Four: The Complete Series

by Marissa Farrar

  She exhaled a sigh and jumped down from the back of her ride. “Okay. Four hours’ rest, and then we keep moving.”

  Warsgra nodded. “Thank you. We’ll let the men know.”

  They rode back to join their people, Vehel joining them, too, in order to spread the word quicker. Dela had already pulled the canvas roll from the back of her horse. If everyone was resting, it would be stupid of her not to do the same. Besides, she thought that as she slept she might be able to dream of Torggu and reassure him that they were on their way. She didn’t want him to feel alone.

  As before, she set up the tent facing away from the rest of the army. There wasn’t much privacy to be had when traveling with this number of people, and though it was far from perfect, it allowed her a moment of solitude.

  Within twenty minutes, Orergon, Warsgra, and Vehel returned to her.

  “The men are all bedding down for a few hours,” Warsgra announced.

  Dela nodded. “Good. Hopefully, we’ll be able to make better time when they wake.”

  The men helped her to finish putting up the tent and then threw bedding rolls onto the ground beneath the canvas roof.

  She stood, staring down into the darkness of the Southern Pass, imagining how far they still had to go. She pictured not only Torggu and how helpless and frightened he must be, but also thought of her brother and how his life had ended at her hands. She wished more than anything that she could go back and change the past, but she knew such a thing was impossible. Silent tears rolled down her face as helplessness and frustration threatened to overpower her.

  Warsgra moved in front of her, blocking her view of the pass. “Dela,” he said, his hands on either side of her head, lifting her face to his. “It will be okay.”

  She was aware of Orergon behind her, sweeping the hair from her neck, to place a kiss to her shoulder. “You have everyone supporting you,” the Moerian said. “We won’t let Crowmere get away with this.”

  Vehel sandwiched her in on her right, pressing her between the three of them. He reached down and took her hand, kissing her palm. “Your dragon knows you’re fighting for him. He doesn’t think you’ve abandoned him.”

  She exhaled a sigh and allowed their combined strength to support her. Then Warsgra’s mouth was on hers, and Orergon was kissing the back of her neck, and Vehel’s lips crept up her arm. An unexpected surge of desire rose up inside her, overtaking her futile sadness. She needed this, to give herself over to them for a short time, to feel instead of think, and forget everything.

  Moving as one entity, they slipped beneath the canvas, hiding from prying eyes.

  She tumbled to the ground, and the men moved with her. Hands were all over her, pulling at her clothing and removing their own. They were all aware of the army of people behind them, so they didn’t strip each other naked, but instead worked around their clothes.

  A big, strong hand pushed between her thighs, and she knew it belonged to Warsgra. She parted her legs for him, allowing him to push a thick finger inside her. Pleasure tightened her core, and a groan escaped her lips. Another hand was on her breast, twisting and tugging at her nipple, while a mouth covered hers, and she found herself kissing Vehel, her fingers laced in his silky, silver hair.

  She felt as though she was caught up in a dream, or had drunk too much wine. She was lost in the feeling of these men around her, each beautiful and brave in their own way, and who’d each chosen to believe in her.

  The hard ridge of an erection pressed up against her back, another at her hip. She reached down, and her fingers wrapped around a third—Warsgra, she could tell by the size. His finger pushed inside her, while she slid her hand up and down his thick length. She wanted all of them, and knew she was going to have them tonight.

  She lay back on the bedding, and Warsgra slipped his finger from her body, allowing Vehel to position himself between her thighs. She released Warsgra to push her hand down and take hold of her Elvish prince’s cock. His lips parted when her fingers wrapped around him, and he held himself above her, staring into her eyes. She wrapped her legs around his hips and drew him into her. She was already wet and slippery from Warsgra’s touch, and Vehel only met with the slightest resistance before he sank in deep. The other two watched, staying connected by palming her breast and teasing her nipples. Tongues traced her skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

  Orergon reached between them to rub her clit in fast circles while Vehel thrust inside her. Her whole focus reduced to the feeling of him inside her and the men surrounding her. Nothing else mattered in that moment except the four of them. Their movements grew frantic, and she bucked her hips, matching Vehel’s. His breathing grew ragged, and she urged him on, wanting to cry out but knowing she would be heard. Pleasure condensed at her core, growing tighter and tighter with every stroke. Knowing the other men were watching only served to heighten her arousal, and finally she couldn’t hold on any longer, her body going rigid as she came. She clamped her cries of pleasure between her teeth and buried her face against Vehel’s neck, shuddering with each wave of bliss.

  But she wasn’t done yet.

  Vehel slipped out of her, and Orergon pulled her into his arms. He was already rock hard, and he pulled her to sit half-naked on his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts to his smooth, brown chest. Wet from being with Vehel, she first lifted herself up to position herself over his cock, and then slid down on his length, feeling him stretching her.

  Warsgra moved up behind her, sandwiching her between him and Orergon. Even as she moved up and down on Orergon, Warsgra’s erection pressed against the small of her back, and the Norc kissed her neck with teasing nibbles.

  Her pleasure built with every movement, the position deep. It didn’t take long before she unraveled around Orergon, but Warsgra didn’t even give her the chance to catch her breath. Pulling her off Orergon, he bent her over and thrust deep and hard, impaling her on his massive cock. She cried out, already so stretched and sensitized and soaked from her own arousal and the other men’s semen. Warsgra growled and fucked her hard, her breasts bouncing with every thrust. She was starting to get loud, unable to stop the moans that burst from her lips, so Warsgra leaned across her back and placed his hand over her mouth, stifling her cries.

  She surrendered to her third orgasm, gripping her in ecstasy before flowing out through her body, in wave after wave. She shook and shuddered as Warsgra joined her, finding his release deep inside her. With her head spinning, she collapsed into a pile with her three men.

  Exhausted and sated, she finally gave in to sleep.

  THEY GOT BACK ON THE road before first light.

  Dela felt better after her night with the men. They all stuck close to her as they got on the move again, only leaving her side to go back to their people and make sure everyone was all right.

  By mid-morning, light appeared at the end of the Southern Pass. The temperature had increased as well, so she found she no longer needed the furs she’d borrowed from the Norcs.

  “We’re almost through,” she said out loud, her heart lifting with hope. The oppressive darkness and cold of the Southern Pass was almost behind them.

  Anticipation made her pick up her step, and finally she reached the end of the pass and stepped out onto the wide, green tundra of the eastern coast. The bright light hurt her eyes, but she didn’t even care. The color of the sky and grass made her heart sing. They still had some way to go, but the hardest part of the journey was over.

  As the army poured out from between the steep walls of the Southern Pass, she felt the mood of the people lift. Many of the Norcs and Moerians had never even seen the eastern coast, and they talked excitedly among themselves. The animals finally had good grazing, and so they allowed the horses and goats some time to eat before they continued.

  Memories of her journey across these lands all those weeks ago flooded over her. She’d been a different person back then. Now, everything had changed. She’d lost so much, and gained so much
, too. Tears for the loss of her best friend Layla filled her eyes, and she gave a small, sad laugh as she thought of how Layla would have reacted to all of this. She imagined her friend squealing upon hearing of her night with three men—and not just men, but men of three different races—and how she’d high-five her good-naturedly for her achievements.

  The hours passed by, and still the army walked, pausing only briefly to rest. They were making good time, and she hoped to reach the city by nightfall. The journey on the way to the Southern Pass from Anthoinia had taken longer, but they’d been traveling with carts filled with grain and even elderly members of the Chosen. This army of strong, young men, on horses and mountain goats, made for a far quicker passage.

  The shush of rushing water filtered through to her ears. They were near water, which would be good for everyone to rehydrate themselves and their animals. A wide river lay ahead, and Dela frowned as she realized it looked familiar. A little farther downstream, a solid stone bridge curved over the top of the water, and her stomach dropped.

  They’d reached the Devil’s bridge.

  She lifted her hand to bring everyone to a halt. “Wait! Don’t go over it. It’s cursed. Can everyone get through the water?”

  The water level didn’t seem as high as the time when she’d crossed with Layla and the rest of the Chosen. It felt like a lifetime ago that it had happened. She’d been a different person then—just a girl from the back streets of Anthoinia.

  They didn’t have the carts of grain this time around, and the speed of the water didn’t seem as bad either. She led the way, urging her horse into the river, kicking his flanks when he pulled back slightly, snorting in distress. Warsgra followed on his goat, the animal leaping from rock to rock, even carrying the weight of the huge Norc on his back, unfazed by the flow of water. Orergon and Vehel also urged their horses in, and, behind them, the rest of their mismatched army followed.

  Dela reached the other side and waited with baited breath as her army made its way across in what felt like a never-ending procession. Only when the last person was over safe, did she allow herself to relax again, and they continued on their journey.

  Every couple of hours, she used the Dragonstone to connect to Torggu. He was still in the same position, pinned by the giant metal nets to the roof of the castle. His screeches had become less, and every now and then he tried to lift one of his wings, only to get it a couple of feet into the air before dropping back down under the weight. It broke her heart to experience what he was going through. He needed to stay strong and know they were coming for him.

  It felt as though they’d been traveling forever, but finally the tall walls of Anthoinia started to take shape in the distance, and in the center rose the high turrets of King Crowmere’s castle. Dela caught her breath and drew to a halt. Torggu was there, chained to the top of the castle. She was still too far away to see him, but just knowing he wasn’t far now made her heart tighten with emotion.

  “Come on,” she said to the others, kicking her horse into a gallop. “We’re almost there.”

  They stopped with some distance between them and the massive city gates which, together with the high walls, blocked the way into the city.

  She looked to Vehel riding beside her. “Do you think you can free Torggu from here? Use your magic to lift the chains?”

  The Elvish prince shook his head. “I’m sorry, Dela. We’re too far away. I might be able to do it from the castle, but not from this distance.”

  The castle still felt like a long way away. The city walls surrounded Anthoinia, and then there were miles of back streets and houses between them and the city square. That was what she needed to focus on—getting Vehel to the castle. She’d never be able to break the dragon’s chains alone, but Vehel’s magic would be able to do it. She just needed to get him there.

  Dela rode forward, approaching the city gates. Warsgra, Orergon, and Vehel were close behind, and Iros was still perched on the back of her horse. She needed to show that she was leader, while still having the protection of the men and her army not far behind her.

  Two city guardsmen stood looking anxious on the other side of the iron framework of the city gates. They must have been warned that she would be on her way, and it wasn’t as though they couldn’t have noticed the spectacle of the giant dragon pinned to the roof of their castle, but perhaps the men hadn’t expected her to turn up with quite so many people behind her. She also realized these guardsmen had most likely never seen the other races before, and to the normal human eye, the Norcs and Moerians must have looked savage.

  “Who goes there?” called out one of the guardsmen.

  “Tell King Crowmere that Dela the Dragonsayer is here to speak with him,” she replied. “I’ll hold my men back if he is willing to parley.”

  One guardsman looked at the other, and then nodded and ran off. Dela had a strong suspicion Crowmere already knew they were there. There wasn’t much chance that his watchman hadn’t seen them coming. She knew they made a strange sight, their motley crew of different races. The Moerians with their spears and tattoos and horses, the Norcs, long-haired and bare-chested on their massive mountain goats, and the humans, looking more anxious than the rest of the races knowing they were going to fight their own kind, but still with a kind of steely determination to their eyes.

  She heard Torggu’s mournful screech in the distance, and her heart twisted for him. It had been days since he’d been tied down with chains, and she imagined he wouldn’t have eaten since then. A fresh surge of anger roiled inside her. Right now all she wanted was to see Crowmere dead. She didn’t even care at that point that she’d be ruling over Xantearos. She just wanted the man who’d imprisoned her, her men, and her dragon to no longer be walking this earth.

  But she had to think of the people. As soon as this battle started, lives would be lost. Even the men who were supporting King Crowmere didn’t deserve to die, in her mind. They thought they were fighting on the right side, and those who didn’t even believe theirs was the right side were fighting out of fear. Crowmere had ruled over this city for so many years, executing those who went against him, that many felt they had no choice but to do as he commanded.

  Dela waited, sitting up tall in the saddle, her chin lifted, her back straight. Though Iros was heavy now, Dela allowed the dragon to climb back on her shoulder, the creature also sitting up straight, as though she knew what was going on.

  The sound of the waiting army rose behind them. Even standing still, the army was loud. Horses snorted and whinnied and pawed the ground impatiently. Men coughed and murmured to each other. Dela doubted they’d have been able to sneak into the city even if they’d wanted to.

  Still, they waited.

  “He’s taking his time,” growled Warsgra.

  “Yeah,” Orergon agreed. “He must know you’re here.”

  Vehel’s lips twisted. “Perhaps he’s deciding what move to make next.”

  Dela shook her head. “No. He’ll already have every move planned way ahead. Someone like Crowmere doesn’t do things unintentionally.”

  Finally, movement came at the gates. King Crowmere, with his long black beard and armor, waited behind the gates as they were unlocked. He hadn’t come alone, she noticed. He had a number of armed men surrounding him, and she was fairly certain there were also archers on the walls on either side. One of them could easily take her out, but then there would be no room for any kind of compromise to spare bloodshed—not that she thought there was going to be a truce. But attacking the enemy during a parley was seen to be a gross breach of the rules of war, and she hoped even Crowmere wouldn’t stoop so low.

  The gates opened, and the king stepped through.

  So they’d be on the same level, Dela slid from the back of her horse and stepped forward to meet the king.

  “Dela the Dragonsayer,” King Crowmere said as he walked out toward her and came to a halt. “Once again, you’re back on my territory.”

  “Anthoinia is my home,”
she replied, “and you know why I’m here. You’ve taken my dragon captive. I don’t believe for one moment that you didn’t do so to bring me here.”

  “That dragon killed a number of my men. It’s a danger to our society.”

  “Yes, he is, but not in the way you’re implying. We both know that whoever had control over the dragons will also control Xantearos.”

  “I thought you wanted to parley to reach a truce.” His head angled slightly to one side. “So far, I’m not seeing any signs of you wanting one.”

  “I don’t want my men or yours to die over this. Too many people have died already. Let the dragon go, and stand down from the throne, and there will be no more bloodshed.”

  She’d known there was no chance of it happening, but she still had to put the offer across.

  As she’d expected, Roland Crowmere laughed. “You can’t actually think you’re the one with the power in this situation. I’m the one who should be making demands to bring about peace, not you. Or do you think that baby dragon of yours is going to burn the city down?” There was amusement in his tone, and his men gave a snigger.

  She lifted her chin, not rising to his mocking. “Let me hear your demands.”

  “Give yourselves up—you and the men I had planned on hanging—and I’ll release the dragon.”

  “Never. You can take me, but not the men.”

  “Dela! No!” Joint cries came from the men behind her.

  A hint of a cold smile touched the king’s lips. “And then you’ll call off your army?”

  “You’re to release the dragon first.”

  He shook his head. “Not going to happen.”

  Dela gritted her teeth and stood her ground. “Then we don’t have a deal.”

  She didn’t trust King Crowmere in the slightest, and there was no way she was going to hand herself over when Torggu was still in captivity. Of course, she could understand why Roland Crowmere also didn’t want to release the dragon first. Dragons were dangerous and unpredictable, and there was no telling what Torggu would do if he saw her in trouble.