The Rogue King

by Abigail Owen

  “Wait and think,” Kasia whispered now. She nodded, still sucking in air. “He’ll come back. Let’s give him a second.”

  Bleidd held out a hand and pulled her to her feet, then caught her when she swayed. “Whoa. Hold on, little dove.”

  She barely had the energy to pull one corner of her mouth up in a smile. “I’ll be fine after I’ve had a chance to sleep—”

  An unmistakable howl broke through the lowered din of the dwindling fight.

  She knew that howl. “Maul.”

  “Stand back,” she told Bleidd.

  He didn’t budge. “No. You’re too weak. He’ll teleport back.”

  “He can’t, or he would have already.”

  Bleidd still regarded her with stubborn concern.

  “Move,” she boomed at him.

  Lips flat, he released her arm and took a step back. “We’ll be right behind you.”

  Kasia nodded. The pack as individuals couldn’t do much against a dragon. But as a solid unit… Killer bees took down much larger creatures for a reason.

  She sucked in a breath, reaching for anything left of that spark inside her. Like a lighter out of fluid, nothing happened at first. Then another howl pierced the night, and from down deep, she found a small reserve.

  Flame trickled over her, again lighting the world in an eerie glow. Before she lost it completely, Kasia pictured the town as she’d last seen it, trying to angle herself toward where the howl had seemed to originate, and forced her body to go. This time the darkness and silence dragged at her, as though hands reached out trying to keep her in the void forever.

  With a cry—silent in the cavity, but agony filled when she reappeared—Kasia made it to the town, only to find Maul surrounded by three golden dragons who seemed to be toying with him like cats batting at a bug. Blood pooled beneath him.

  Off to the side, she spotted Brand and Uther engaged in a knock-down-drag-out fight.

  “No,” Kasia cried out as one of the dragons lined up to swing at the hellhound with his spiked tail.

  From the gods knew where, she dredged up enough energy to run headlong between the massive beasts. Maul bared his teeth and shook his head, obviously wanting her to stay away, but she couldn’t. Kasia made it to his side.

  “Look what we have, boys.”

  Kasia winced as the dragons let her hear their piercing thoughts.

  “A little phoenix girl and her pet.”

  Kasia reached for her fire again, but the well was dry, every last ounce of it used up to get to Maul. She looked at the hellhound. “I’m sorry.”

  The dog whined a reply, his body trembling under her touch.

  …

  Brand was vaguely aware of Kasia’s shout somewhere nearby but couldn’t stop to look for her, as he and Uther struggled to find that opportunity to strike, neither letting go of the other.

  Her cry hadn’t sounded scared—she’d sounded pissed. She had to be okay. That strange connection screamed at him that, other than exhaustion, she was okay.

  The instinct to protect his mate clawed at him, even as centuries of the need for revenge scorched his blood with purpose.

  He wrapped his upper arm around Uther’s neck, but he didn’t tuck his wing back far enough. Uther managed to rend a decent tear in the elastic membrane of Brand’s wing, but he didn’t even feel it. Too many parts of his body were in agony for it to register. He managed to get Uther in a choke hold; he stood up on his hind legs and threw himself backward, twisting in the air as he did, so he came down on top of his opponent.

  At the same time, he managed to force the false king’s head back, exposing his neck.

  “Brand.” Kasia didn’t scream. She didn’t even cry out audibly. She simply whispered his name in her mind as though he were the last thought she’d ever have.

  His mate was in trouble.

  Suddenly the dragon beneath his talons didn’t matter at all. The only person who mattered was Kasia. Fuck Uther. Brand’s life would be worth less than nothing without his phoenix. How could he have ever thought of leaving her alone in this world, even to kill Uther?

  Something snapped in place inside his body, like all systems coming online, followed by an instant burning sensation at the back of his neck—the mating bond solidifying as the mark of his house copied from his neck to hers. Suddenly he could feel her—her exhaustion, her pain, her fear.

  She’d given up.

  Without a second’s hesitation, Brand extended his wings and heaved off Uther. Thanks to the tear in one wing, he dipped in the air, which meant he couldn’t fly. But, like most flightless birds, he could hop. In a flash, he hopped over the dragon closest to him, coming down on top of Kasia and Maul. He didn’t have enough time to pick them up and get out of there as the three dragons attacked. Instead, he cocooned his mate and her pet beneath his bulk, careful not to crush them, but covering them with his body and bracing his weight on his forearms.

  Protecting her with his life.

  “Brand?” Kasia’s voice broke.

  The three dragons blasted triumphant roars, and blows rained down over him. Every spike striking true, digging through scales, rending flesh from bones. He managed to raise his spikes on his neck, so none of them could attempt to snap it. Otherwise, he held still and telegraphed a need for backup to any blue dragons who had survived the night.

  He grunted, smoke snorting from his nostrils, as a particularly vicious blow snapped his already cracked ribs, one possibly puncturing a lung as it became harder to breathe. Then a roar blasted from him involuntarily as one of the dragons found the charred injury on his leg and tore into the weakened spot, like a predator tearing the flesh from its prey.

  “Brand, stop.” Panic filled her voice now. She pushed at him with puny, ineffectual shoves. “Stop. Get off us. Get away.”

  “No way am I leaving you.” He managed to communicate through a blackness that was descending. His body was shutting down on him now. Too many injuries, too much blood lost. Shock would come first, followed by black oblivion…then death.

  “They’re killing you!” she screamed. She stopped pushing at him and leaned into his chest. “One phoenix is not worth your life,” she pleaded.

  “My mate is.”

  “No.” She was sobbing now.

  Suddenly, the violent attack stopped. Just in time, because he couldn’t have held out much longer.

  Kasia sucked in a watery breath at the sudden silence. “What’s happening?”

  “Don’t know.” Brand grunted. Now that his mate was out of danger, a deep trembling took up residence in his muscles. He rolled off of her even as she reached for him.

  “Brand?” Her voice seemed to come from down a long tunnel.

  As soon as he knew he wouldn’t crush her or Maul, Brand collapsed to the ground and let darkness consume him.

  …

  “Brand!” Kasia yelled his name as she dragged herself across the short distance to where his head struck the ground when he collapsed. She fell to her knees beside him.

  He didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes. Was he even breathing?

  Vaguely the sounds of wolves and dragons fighting around them registered, but all she could do was lie beside her mate, his blood pooling beneath her legs from the multitude of wounds crisscrossing his back. His leg and a few other spots were charred lumps of meat, and his lungs were making a godawful gurgling. He was drowning in his own blood.

  Tears poured down her cheeks, the salty liquid slipping in the corners of her mouth and running down her neck. She didn’t care.

  From where he lay on the ground, Maul gave a pathetic whine, which only made the tears come faster.

  She shook Brand’s head, not that she could move an unconscious dragon. “Brand Astarot, open your eyes,” she yelled at him. “You are not allowed to die. Do you hear me?”

 
But he showed no sign that he was alive, let alone obeyed her commands. Kasia slumped forward, her hand on his cheek, and sobbed her heartbreak.

  Gradually the noise calmed, leaving a screaming silence in its wake, punctuated only by the sounds wrenching from her throat as she poured out her sorrow in heaving gulps.

  “Kasia.” Ladon stood behind her, a man, not a monster.

  She didn’t look up. Couldn’t.

  He knelt and placed an arm around her shoulder. “He’s gone, Kasia.”

  She shook her head, ignoring how the action made her sway. “No.”

  “He’s gone.”

  She lifted her head to glare at the Blood King of the Blue Clan through her tears. “He can’t be,” she choked out.

  “I know it’s hard—”

  She lurched out of his grasp. With jerking movements, her muscles no longer interested in functioning, she yanked her hair away from the back of her neck to show him the mating mark branded there. No way could she have missed that burning, even through exhaustion and fear. “If he’s dead, then so am I.”

  She turned back to Brand and shoved him again. “So wake up, dammit. I can’t go through this life without you.”

  Only he didn’t move.

  “He’s not breathing, my king.” Kasia caught Fallon’s words to Ladon. “He’s gone.”

  Ladon said nothing.

  But Kasia still heard. Perhaps the bond hadn’t solidified in time, and that’s why she was still alive?

  With nothing left to give and nothing to hold on to, she crumpled. Sobs so violent her muscles clenched as her body and her soul grieved. Wrung out and unable to hold herself up any longer, she lay across Brand’s head, cheek to cheek, and wept.

  Everything poured out of her into those tears. The loss of her mother. How much she missed her sisters. The worry over her future. Most especially her incomprehensible, soul-binding love for this man that had snuck up on her even as it had always been there between them—a connection more real than any she’d ever known or would ever know again.

  “I only just found you,” she whispered and kissed the tear-soaked scale beneath her cheek.

  “What do we do with Uther?” Reid asked Ladon behind her.

  They’d captured the Gold King?

  Ladon sighed. “I’ll do it.”

  “No,” Kasia said. She lifted her head and wiped the back of her arm across her eyes. “I’ll do it.”

  Several men exchanged glances behind his back, but Ladon watched her steadily. Then he nodded.

  Kasia stumbled to her feet.

  In an instant, Ladon was at her side, holding her steady. “This can wait until you’re stronger. Brand left him barely alive as it is.”

  “No.” She took a deep breath. “That bastard needs to pay for what he did to Brand and his family. Now.”

  She didn’t even think about the how. Ladon would tell her. To her right, Fallon already leaned over Maul, working to heal the hellhound.

  A small pinprick of relief pierced the numb sense of purpose now replacing her grief. “Where is Uther?” she demanded.

  Wolves and men and a few blue dragons parted as Ladon practically carried her over the charred, smoking remains of the wolf shifter’s village to where a massive golden dragon was pinned down by three of Ladon’s warriors.

  “I thought he was near death already,” she said.

  “He is. Brand saw to that. But we’re not taking any chances.”

  Despite all that, the false king continued to struggle, his muscles bunching and twitching, smoke rising from his nostrils. No one dared put themselves directly in front of that maw.

  Ladon led her to stand beside the beast’s neck. She glanced at the king beside her, eyebrows raised. What next?

  Ladon searched her face then drew back his shoulders. “Uther of the Gold Dragon Clan, you are found guilty of the murder of the Dagrun family, rightful rulers of the Gold Clan. In tandem with that heinous act, you are also found guilty of treason. Your sentence shall be immediate death by fire.”

  He turned to Kasia, and she bit her lip. “How?”

  “Enough fire into any one of those wounds and he’ll burn from the inside.”

  Gruesome, but appropriate.

  Just one tiny problem. She slumped forward, hands on her shaking knees. “I’m all out.”

  To her shock, Ladon dropped to one knee before her. “Then take mine.”

  The Blood King of the Blue Dragon Clan cupped his hands and blew into them, then offered her his hand, palm up, a pale blue flame dancing there.

  Kasia’s mouth dropped open in a silent gasp.

  “Take mine, too,” Asher offered.

  “And mine.”

  One by one, all the blue dragons in human form followed their king’s lead, dropping to their knees to offer the phoenix their fire.

  For her.

  For Brand. Her dead mate.

  Kasia choked back the tears scalding the back of her throat. She reached out to scoop up the fire still flowering in Ladon’s hand.

  “If we’re killing kings today, can I join in the fun?” Brand’s voice rang through her head.

  Kasia lost the fire as she whirled to where they’d left him, Ladon catching her as she pitched to the side. The body of a gold dragon no longer lay in the ashes behind them. Instead, a man, whole and alive, limped through tendrils of smoke and those still kneeling, his gaze trained solely on her.

  A shaking started deep in her core, even as she flung herself into his arms. Brand winced and swayed. “Gently.”

  Oh hell, all those gashes. She tried to let go and jump back, only he wouldn’t let her, tightening his grip around her. “You’re not going anywhere,” he growled.

  “But your wounds—”

  His mouth tipped up in that infuriating, perfect lopsided grin of his. “Almost done healing.”

  Kasia frowned. “Almost done? You were…dead.” Her voice broke over the word. “How is that possible?”

  He leaned his forehead against hers and inhaled deeply. “You.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Phoenix tears, when truly meant, have healing powers. Or so I’ve heard.” He shrugged one shoulder, although a soft grunt of pain accompanied the movement. “Guess it’s true.”

  Kasia gurgled a half laugh, half sob of relief. Then reached up to cup his face with her hands, pushing his hair back from his forehead. She gazed into those blazing eyes. Gods, the way he looked at her.

  He reached under the heavy fall of her hair to trace the brand on her neck with a finger, and she gasped as pure aching need swamped her senses.

  “My mate,” he murmured. Satisfaction lingered in those low tones, but she caught something else as well. Awe. “I used to think fate was as cruel as dragon shifters, but now…”

  She couldn’t look away from those golden eyes. “Now?”

  “Now I think fate set me on a path to you.” He nuzzled her hair. “I’ve loved you since the moment you stole my car.”

  Then he caught her laughter in a breath-stealing, heart-pounding kiss, and Kasia’s soul took flight, finally home…with her mate.

  A polite cough had Brand pulling back. He glanced over her head, presumably at Ladon, and nodded. Then he dropped his gaze back to her. “We have something to do.”

  Right. Uther.

  She moved to turn away only to be tugged back. “Not yet,” Brand said.

  “What?”

  “I just told you I love you. We’re not making another move.”

  Realization dawned, and she cast a nervous glance around at the hardened warriors around them, trying not to laugh. “Right now?”

  “Yeah.”

  She could see the stubborn resolve in the set of his jaw, the focus of his gaze. And something else. Somehow, she could feel him, feel her mate’s
emotions beneath the teasing surface, and he was…unsure of her. Even now.

  She went up on tiptoe to place a sweet kiss on his lips. “I love you, Brand.”

  Again, he pulled her back when she went to move away. “I heard you earlier, when I was bleeding and dying, and those are possibly the sweetest words I’ve ever heard.”

  “Possibly?”

  Brand sobered. “I need to hear you tell me what you want from me.”

  Without his telling her more, she knew where he was going with that. “I want you as my mate.”

  Through that strange connection, she felt his relief and his elation. Ignoring their audience and the task that he’d been waiting centuries to carry out, Brand kissed her again.

  “That’s sweet and all, but we can’t hold this bastard down much longer,” Wyot, one of the dragons on top of Uther, grumbled.

  Brand lifted his head and grinned. “Shall we kill a king, my queen?”

  She laughed, pure joy erupting from the blackness that had consumed her. “By all means.”

  Epilogue

  Ladon gritted his teeth as Brand and Kasia entered the war room, Maul limping in behind them. They weren’t giggling or making goo-goo eyes or anything, but they gave off this vibe. They were right together, and every cell in their bodies knew it, trusted that bond.

  In the weirdest way, that tangible connection made him want to chuck something hard, with sharp corners, at their heads. The biggest reason for that, though, was how they prioritized their relationship over the practical steps that needed to be taken right now.

  “I received a new piece of information,” Ladon started as they joined his warriors and Curia Regis at the table.

  Minus Chante, of course. Ladon’s informant in Pytheios’s camp had been happy to take Chante, one of Ladon’s Viceroys, rather than Brand. The needed intel that man provided would continue, which was crucial if they had any chance of taking down Pytheios and cutting off the head of the snake.