Caged: A Fae Fantasy Romance (Fae Magic Book 4)

by Jessica Aspen

  “Good.” His breath was warm on her neck and she pushed thoughts of his mouth away and tried to focus on the bumps of the rock. “Keep the landmark in the center of your mind. Pick out all the details. When you’re sure you have it, open the portal.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “I’ll send you some power. It will show you how.” She tensed and he gave her a quick squeeze. “Don’t worry, I’ll hold the portal from doing any damage. You’ll do the rest.”

  She closed her eyes. Once she was sure she had the details perfect she opened her Gift and reached for his. A trickle of energy seeped through the connections between them and suddenly she understood—it was a trick. There they were, time and space layered together. One against the other, over and over again in thin layers like a striped rock. All you had to do was open a hole in the one you were in and reach for the one you wanted.

  She reached.

  A rush of power flowed from the dragon and through her. There was a burst of wind with the magic and she opened her eyes. The dark mauve and grey horror of the portal’s door was right in front of her. Much closer than she’d expected and open and waiting—for her.

  “Ready?”

  She could feel the portal’s pull, waiting to suck her down. All the hunger in the universe was in there, an insatiable need for more souls, more magic, more death. She wasn’t ready, she was scared stiff. But Doyle was right behind her and she could feel his support, the deep blue of his power running like a steel support under the thin ice of her own.

  He believed in her. She had to believe in herself.

  She swallowed hard. “Ready.”

  Still pressed back to front, hands tangled together, he walked her forward into the maelstrom. Gibbering faces howled in her ears, their knobbly fingers reaching for her hair. She ducked. The fingers went right through her, sharp black nails sliced through her as if through hot butter. Doyle still had her in his arms, but the connection between them broke.

  “Doyle!” she screamed.

  “I’m right here. Focus, damn it. Don’t lose the image.”

  But it was too late. She reached, struggling to put back the rock with its distinctive face. Doyle’s power wrapped around her, forming a shield against the hunger. There was a large jerk. Her stomach lurched. And then they were out of the portal.

  The impact of their landing ripped her out of Doyle’s grip. Siobhan fell, rolling on hard packed dirt, her hands and knees scraped raw.

  “Where are we?” They were on a flat plain of raw brown, broken by random shards of slick black rocks with edges as sharp as knives. The sky was full of dark clouds and the sun, hanging low on the horizon, was an angry shade of red.

  “It’s so hot.” She got up off of the ground, dusting the dirt and rocks off of her hands, her stomach still twisting from their wrenching trip through the portal. She was scraped and bruised, and her head was spinning, but what concerned her most was the black cloud moving at a rapid pace and coming straight for them.

  Inside her fur-lined jacket she started to sweat. “What the hell is that?”

  The mass seemed to sort itself out into a cloud of black birds with enormous wings and curling necks silhouetted against the sunset’s bloodstained background.

  Doyle snarled, his face a hard unfamiliar mask. “That is a flock of dragons and given the fucked up state of this world, we’ve just become their idea of dinner.” There was a tingle in the air. He was opening a portal.

  Her insides twisted and her shields automatically rose to protect her from the threat. Hell no, she wasn’t going in again. Danu only knew where they’d end up this time.

  DOYLE REACHED OUT HIS hand to Siobhan. “We have to go now.”

  The black shapes were moving toward them at a rapid rate. They would be here in seconds. You could make out the long curving tails and the scalloped wings that said—dragon.

  Siobhan stepped further away from him. “I can’t.” She shivered. “We barely made it out of that portal. I’m not going into another one.”

  “This really isn’t up for debate. There is no other way out of this. I can’t defend you against—” his alarm twisted very close to fear “—twenty starving dragons.”

  Siobhan put a hand up to shield her eyes and scanned the approaching flock. “How do you know they’re starving?”

  “Look around you, it’s a wasteland. There’s nothing but rocks and sand for miles.” He took a step toward her. “Now give me your hand.”

  “I can’t go back in there.” She shuddered. “Something in there touched me and look what happened. If you hadn’t reacted, Goddess knows where we would have ended up.”

  “You just need practice. Come on, I’ll shield you this time.”

  He took another step toward her and she sidled away, her eyes flicking to the side.

  “Isn’t there any other way?” She was panting, a glaze of panicked sweat on her skin.

  He recognized the signs of trauma and inwardly cursed. “I’m sorry. I can see your fear, but we’re out of time. Look at them!”

  The dragons were close enough that he could make out their scales gleaming in the heavy red light. Their eyes glowed and even from this distance he could see the saliva dripping from their fangs.

  “Why are they all black? Atavantador is white.”

  “These are black diamond dragons, and they’re the only ones left on this world.” He couldn’t wait any longer. “I’m sorry, but there really is no other way.” He jumped, grabbing her and pulling her in close. She squirmed, struggling to get away as he opened the portal.

  The mists were forming, but the first black dragon angled its head to the ground and plummeted from the sky.

  “Now!” He hung on to Siobhan, jumping for the hungry portal and taking her with him.

  “No!” She fought hard, panic rising in her eyes. “I can’t, I can’t!” She flung her body and the weight threw him off balance. They missed the opening of the portal by inches.

  He felt the dragon coming down and wrenched them to the side. The dragon missed, pulling up before it hit the ground. They hit hard, Doyle taking the brunt of the fall on his shoulder, Siobhan wrapped tight in his arms. Golden eyes gleamed hate and hunger. The dragon hissed, its long tongue flicking out and kissing the skin of his cheek. Then it was back in the sky, the downward draft of its wings sending grit into his eyes.

  He readjusted his grip and got to his feet. Doing his best to avoid her kicks and punches, he slung her over his shoulder. “I’m not leaving you here to be eaten. You’re coming with me, damn you.” He dragged her to the portal.

  “Give me my sword. I’d rather fight than go back in.” She pounded on his kidneys using the sharp points of her knuckles. His knees buckled.

  The next black shadow dragon pinned its wings to its sides, diving down. He jumped for the door, pulling the portal down behind them, even as the heat of the dragon’s breath scorched his face. Doyle shielded his screaming companion from the grasping hordes of the mist and for the first time in nearly a thousand years, he prayed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Doyle handed Siobhan a glass of whiskey and then filled one for himself. “Here, drink this.” He sure as hell needed one, maybe two or three after their near escape. He was still drenched in sweat while Siobhan huddled in one of the chairs in front of the fire. Wrapped up in a blanket she was shivering as if she’d never get warm.

  “It was so hot. I’ve never been that hot. Not even standing right next to a midsummer’s bonfire.” She sipped her whiskey and made a face before taking a second sip. “Somehow, I thought the dragon world would be cold. Like here. How could Atavantador stand it?”

  “Parts of it were...once...a long time ago.” He settled down into the second chair, staring into the flames and seeing the world of over a thousand years before. “Once upon a time, Vollenth was a place where you could find every type of landscape imaginable from icy polar caps to green-swept fields. This world had deserts full of life, not death. Mountains where
the streams were so clear you could reach in and scoop up fish with your bare hands.”

  It had been beautiful...in his youth. “But then droughts came, year after year. The green areas dried up. The polar caps melted. Then the seas rose and there were years of flooding while the land masses shrank.” Doyle took a sip of whiskey and let the burn ease the lump in his throat. “Queen dragons began to fight over territory and our numbers shrank due to war and famine. It takes a thousand years and a tremendous amount of magic to hatch a queen dragon. Males are much quicker, but even the clutches of only drake eggs grew smaller and smaller. No one knew what was going on. Finally, the remaining queens found the cause. One dragon, a black diamond male of superior size and magical ability, had discovered a way to drain our world of its magic and take it all for himself. But by then it was too late. All the species of Vollenth were dying, including the dragons.”

  The fire crackled as he recalled the shock of the queens. No more magic to pull from to create new life. No more new eggs. No more dragons.

  “I’d always thought that dragons were native to Underhill. How did you end up here?” Her eyes were gentle and sad and the empathy in them pulled him from his memories.

  She’d had her own heartbreak. She’d understand his loyalty to his brothers and to the tiny queen—to all seven of the tiny queens, hidden away in desperation.

  But, he’d sworn an oath. And no matter whether or not she’d understand, he couldn’t break that oath. His secrets must stay his own. And besides, he’d learned the hard way, even those you trusted most would betray you.

  “We came to Underhill long before you were born. Before your people, the Tuathan de Dannan, came here. Just about the time your enemies, the Fir Bolg, fled your own broken world. No, we’re not native. Underhill is still a raw, young world, and little here is native.”

  “But there were dragons there, on Vollenth. There’s life yet.”

  “Of a sort. Monoleeath, the black diamond dragon who sucked the world dry, has enough power to keep his minions from starving. But the rest of us fled.”

  “Here.”

  “Not just here. At least, I hope there are others on other worlds. The universe is a broad place and there may be survivors yet.” He’d yet to hear of any, but that didn’t mean they weren’t in hiding. He’d been busy with his own concerns.

  “And the people?”

  “The people?” He must have given her a blank look.

  “Like yourself. Did the other dragons help your people escape?”

  He’d forgotten himself. Lost in his memories he’d been speaking to her as if she knew he and Atavantador were one and the same.

  “I cannot say.” He swallowed down his whiskey and got up to refill his glass. “But what I can say is that you need to work harder on incorporating your new powers with your Gift.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think I’m strong enough to work a portal.”

  “Balls.” He watched the amber liquid fill his glass like power filled a shield. “You opened it. You had it. You just let the demons of the portal world steal your focus.”

  “How did we end up on Vollenth, then? You had to rescue me and you took us there.”

  “It wasn’t me. I only held us together. You must have skimmed my memories when you were trying to find your own, and taken just enough to get us there.” He sat back down in his chair.

  “Was that...your home?”

  He thought of the broken black shards of the queen’s complex littering what was now a desert. “No. But I’d been there before.” He leaned over and despite his resolve not to get more physically involved with her, he touched her knee.

  Fire leapt in her eyes, shooting straight to his cock. It was all he could do to leave his hand there and not move it up further, stroking her thigh on his way to leaning in for a taste of her lips.

  He forced himself to let go of her knee and stand up.

  “You nearly had the portal under control. You’re strong enough to learn how to work a portal by yourself, you just need practice. We start tomorrow.” He headed for the door.

  “Wait, don’t go.”

  He stopped his hand on the latch. It would be so easy to stay, to take advantage of her vulnerability and take what his body wanted.

  Damn his sensibilities.

  “I’ll see you in the morning.” He left the room before he let the fire of the whiskey and the sudden heat in Siobhan’s eyes draw him in any further.

  He went to the cave and stripped off his clothes. He needed to cool off. Shifting to dragon he flew out into the northern night sky and headed for his favorite lake and a quick dip, wishing that flying away would be the end of it.

  But it wouldn’t.

  He’d set the boundaries. Now, he had to keep them. Even when his cock and Siobhan had other ideas.

  SIOBHAN STARED AT THE door. She couldn’t believe it. She was still shaking from their hazardous trip through the portal and the near miss of being a starving dragon’s dinner. She wanted the reassurance of another person that this was reality, the here and now. When Doyle had touched her knee and his breath had caught, desire had spiraled deep in her belly, centering at her core.

  She wanted him, but all of a sudden, he seemed determined to take the high road.

  She took another sip of the whiskey. “Bleh!” Making a face she set it aside. It wasn’t her thing. She preferred the clear spirits her people brewed from the sap that ran in the pines, but she had to admit, the whiskey did help the reaction. So would a good cuddle in front of the fire.

  Picking up the poker she stirred the coals. The hot orange glow flared and she settled back, staring at the flames.

  He was keeping things from her, she could feel it. But then, in this world of powerful kings and queens and dragons, maybe everyone was safer keeping a few secrets. She was keeping a few herself, like the fact that she planned to leave and find her brother, but that didn’t change the fact that tonight she’d been scared.

  Every time she figured out where she stood in this new world it shifted, and she wanted someone to make the world hold still. Even if it were only for a little while.

  And Doyle, damn him, had that power.

  An hour later she stood up and settled the screen around the fireplace. She’d spent enough time going back and forth and feeling lonely. Enough. It was time to find Doyle, manservant to the dragon Atavantador, and convince him that tonight she was the one with the power. And it had nothing to do with ice castles, silver dragons, or portals. Tonight it was all about the power of the female body and what it could talk the male body into.

  She looked everywhere for him, taking the time to look twice. The library, the storage room. She even poked her head down the corridor that led to the gnomes’ crystal cave, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the dark magic that lingered there. He wouldn’t go there? Would he?

  No, there was one place he was likely to be. The place she’d avoided like the plague, ever since she’d gotten here. The dragon’s lair.

  She made her way up the corridor and around the bend and hesitated. Should she go back? Was a quick romp in the sheets really worth the risk of disturbing the dragon? Did she need someone’s arms around her that much?

  Wiping her clammy palms on her leggings, she stared at the massive carved door. What if the dragon was in there? What if she woke him up. What if he was...hungry?

  She swallowed down her fear. Today, she’d failed to control the portal. Her fear had taken her over and nearly lost both of them forever in the mists. She wasn’t letting her fear control her again. She’d come this far. She’d go the whole way.

  The flurries in her stomach churning in a storm of nerves, she raised her hand to knock.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ardan paused in front of the queen’s private parlor, his hand lifted to knock. A sudden crash vibrated against the door, right under his hand. That, and the tinkling sound of something shattering, had him hesitating.

  From inside the room, the queen rage
d. “Didn’t I tell you not to move? You are the worst boy I’ve ever had. The worst!”

  Did he have to go in?

  Yes. Even after all these years, the thought of disobeying the queen sent quivers of fear through his bowels. She’d trained him well, even if she’d failed with her current consort. For a moment he envied the fading Winter King. He’d found a way to be around the queen but not suffer from her physical abuse. Another crash hit the door. Well, the boy had almost escaped.

  Ardan swallowed his urge to run and knocked.

  “Come in.”

  Bracing for impact, he eased the door open and pushed just his head into the room. “My queen, you sent for me?”

  On the far side of the room Maeve paced back and forth between the sofa and the flanking upholstered chairs. On the low table in front of her rested a series of beautiful ice sculptures. Each one about the size of a large chalice and intricately designed. The quivering figure of the Winter King stood in front of the door, his translucent texture doing little to block the scene and the shards of broken ice lying at his feet.

  “You took your own sweet time.”

  “I’m sorry I took so long, Your Majesty. It won’t happen again.”

  “See that it doesn’t. When I call you, I want you here.”

  Despite the fact that he knew she didn’t mean it in any affectionate way, it warmed him, even though he knew it shouldn’t. He came all the way into the room.

  She picked up another frozen sculpture and hefted it in her hand. “You, boy, against the door. Look how well Ardan hops when I call. When he was the Winter King he took everything I gave him and begged for more. He never thought of fading into oblivion just to flee me.” She pulled her arm back. Ardan scrambled to the side, barely making it past the shaking figure in front of the door before she chucked it. The frozen ornament sailed across the room and through the ducking king’s torso.