Perfect Storms (Storms of Blackwood Book 4)

by Elle Middaugh

  He was the son of Demeter, Goddess of Vegetation. Could he talk to plants? I’d never thought to ask him. Maybe he could sense their feelings? Maybe he could access their memories?

  "Alicorn dust," he said flatly, showing us his fingertips.

  Maybe I was getting carried away.

  In his other hand, he held up a small fleck of white. It hadn’t completely melted in the fire, so I assumed it wasn’t a snowflake. I prayed it wasn’t a tooth or something.

  "Orkyda petals."

  As soon as Ben said those words, I looked at the scorched remains of the town in a whole new light. I stepped back, staring at the picture with fresh eyes, and realized that the black burn marks followed a pattern; it left a specific line of destruction, almost like it had come straight from the mouth of a… dragon. The final ingredient necessary to cause an epic explosion.

  The Storm King warned us he had the capability of doing this. I’d just never understood the magnitude. I honestly hadn’t believed such mythological creatures were real.

  There was no denying it now.

  I swallowed hard and scanned the sky above our heads, doing my best to peer through the haze, but I found no massive, leathery wings soaring on the breeze. I turned toward the forest we’d emerged from, searching the empty spaces between the trunks for any signs of life, but nothing—not even birds or squirrels—flitted through the branches.

  A tiny sound touched the air, drawing all of our gazes to a dark patch of rubble in the corner of a broken foundation. Was it possible someone had survived?

  Criss, who’d been affectionately named "the Soothing Prince" due to his ability to heal wounds and soothe pain, immediately ran over and sifted through the debris.

  "Oh my gods, someone’s over here!" he shouted, jarring the rest of us into motion too.

  He knelt down and placed both hands on the charcoaled body, pushing his golden healing magic into the person’s chest. Seconds passed, seeming more like an eternity.

  I glanced from Criss to the other guys, finally locking onto Rob as his gaze drifted up above the body and then off to the side. It was like he was seeing something the rest of us weren’t.

  "Stop, Criss." Rob’s eyes fell shut and he sighed. "You can’t heal the dead."

  "This person’s not dead," he protested. "We heard them moaning."

  "That was before you reached him," Rob explained gently. "I can see his spirit. He must’ve died before you got to him."

  "Godsdamn it," Criss whispered, his head hanging limply in his hands.

  Rob bent down and touched Chrissen’s shoulder. "His soul wasn’t in his body when your magic touched him, otherwise he would have lived. There was nothing you could have done."

  Rob turned and directed his attention back to the invisible spirit. "It’s this way, buddy."

  He lifted his hands and moved them to the left, slowly spreading his arms apart, almost as if he were dissolving a puff of smoke.

  "May the Underworld provide you with a peace this world never did."

  My feet moved on their own accord, dragging me away from the others and around the circumference of town. My eyes lifelessly roamed the vast expanse of death and destruction. It was everywhere I looked, everywhere I went.

  At the furthest end of town, a black scorch mark veered off toward a small patch of woods at the base of a rocky mountain. At the peak, white smoke drifted lazily almost like a cloud, but not quite.

  "Guys," I called. Turning around, I realized Ben and Ash had followed me. They must’ve been feeling particularly sympathetic toward me ever since the puking incident. I smiled at them and pointed toward the mountain. "I think there’s a dragon up there."

  "Rob! Cal!" Ben shouted, his deep voice echoing across the empty lot.

  "Dan! Criss!" Ash chipped in. It was unnecessary though, since they all appeared as soon as Ben shouted the first time. "Alexis thinks she’s found our dragon."

  Rob crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back on his right heel. "What do you propose we do about it? Kill it?"

  I gasped, shaking my head in an instant. "Of course not. We need to free it so that the Storm King won't use it to hurt anyone else."

  "How do you know this thing didn’t attack these people on its own, Jewels? It’s a vicious, fire-breathing dragon for fuck’s sake."

  I cringed against his little freak-out but stood my ground.

  "Have you ever, in your nearly thirty years of life, heard of a dragon attack? Honestly, have you ever even seen a dragon?" I paused for dramatic effect, knowing full well he hadn’t. None of us had. "I would think if this thing were harmful, we’d have known about it by now."

  Ben gently placed his hand on Rob’s shoulder. "She’s right, bro. The dragon has existed in peace long before we were around. We should set it free and let it have a chance at peace once more."

  Rob’s plush lips pursed severely. "And if the Storm King finds it again? If he uses it to slaughter another entire village? Do you want that kind of blood on your hands, knowing you could have prevented it?"

  I glanced down at the ground, and my gaze followed the trail of scorched grass back toward town. It already felt like the weight of this tragedy was sitting on my shoulders. Could I bear to live with myself if I let it happen again?

  I blinked and refocused on Rob’s strained face. "Regardless of what the Storm King does, this poor creature is innocent. I can’t condemn him for something he never would have done on his own."

  "We let the alicorn go," Criss mused, trying to smile. "And so far, the Storm King hasn’t re-collected it."

  Rob scoffed. "A dragon is a much bigger target than an alicorn."

  "True." Criss nodded and dug his hands into the pockets of his pants. "But no one had ever seen or heard of a dragon until now. I have a feeling they’re pretty good at hiding."

  "Not good enough."

  Rob’s anger wasn’t unjustified. He grieved on behalf of his people. He seethed in the shadow of his father. He wanted to protect them, avenge them, and be truly deserving of his title as prince. I understood that more clearly the better I got to know him.

  Taking his hands in mine, I threaded our cold fingers. "I’m angry too. I… hate him… for all that he’s done. I’m devastated over the loss of our people. Our people, Rob. We’re in this together."

  His gaze softened as he stared into my eyes.

  "Let’s stop him before he has a chance to strike again," I whispered, taking a step closer so that our chests brushed. "Let’s end this senseless violence before it’s too late. But let’s not ever forget who the real bad guy is." I shook my head, and a sad smile passed across my lips. "It’s not the dragon."

  He swallowed hard and echoed my words. "It’s not the dragon."

  I continued shaking my head slowly until reality streamed back into his consciousness and he looked around. He shared a brief glance with each of his brothers before he finally turned back to me.

  "All right, Jewels," he whispered, his words barely a breath across my lips. "Let’s free the dragon."

  Chapter 7

  The trek up the mountain was far more difficult than I’d imagined. Ice clung to the obsidian-colored stones, making them slick and perilous. The angle of our ascent was way too close to vertical for my liking. And we were only about halfway up when my lungs and muscles started burning from the strain.

  "Why do you think the Storm King torched the village?" Criss asked, not a freaking huff of breathlessness in his voice.

  I glared up at him, coming face-to-face with his fantastic ass as he hiked in front of me. I momentarily forgot why I was annoyed. Oh yeah, because his perfect physique is putting mine to shame. I watched his muscles stretch and flex as he climbed. Never mind, his perfect physique is totally fine by me.

  "As a warning?" Dan suggested from up ahead. "As a threat? He wanted to remind us that he’s always there. No matter what we do, he’s always ruining our lives and everyone else’s around every turn."

  Dan's words caused my gaze
to drift back to the rocks beneath my feet. I hated that I had a hand in ruining his life, that I’d married him and therefore sentenced his mother, and Ben’s and Rob’s mothers, to death.

  I took a deep lungful of freezing cold air, feeling it burn every internal inch of my chest. "You don’t suppose it has something to do with Tia, do you?"

  Rob sighed dramatically. "Not the long-lost sister shit again."

  I licked my lips and instantly regretted it as the cold chapped them raw. "It would make sense. The queens said they thought she went south. If the Storm King found out about her somehow—" I huffed gracelessly between breaths. "—then he might’ve been searching for her."

  "And what?" Dan asked, glancing over his shoulder at me. "Torched the village when he realized she wasn’t there?"

  I did my best to shrug as I fought for air. "I mean… yeah."

  Dan’s bottom lip popped out as he thought. "I suppose it’s possible."

  "But then why tie the dragon up if he wasn’t done with him?" Ben asked from behind me. "I’d assume he’d keep scorching shit until he found her."

  "Yeah, but if he’s always scorching and never looking," Dan began, wagging his finger in the air, "then he’ll never find her. In fact, he’d probably melt her first. That’s counterintuitive."

  "Or is it?" I muttered, my brows scrunching as my mind tried to process his words.

  "What do you mean, Peach?"

  "I mean, does he want to find her and try to win her to his side? He already has Ares backing him. Maybe he really does just want to kill her so that we can’t have her as an ally?"

  Cal was silent for a moment. "Then that still doesn’t explain why he would have tied the dragon up."

  "What if Ares called him somewhere else?" Ash asked. "Maybe he had to leave abruptly, and he just chained the dragon up until he returned?"

  That was certainly possible.

  "Or what if the dragon needs time to recuperate," Criss suggested, drawing my gaze back to his tight ass. Seriously, I could bounce an ice cube off of it. "He wouldn’t be able to continue burning shit if the dragon literally had no flames."

  That was also possible.

  A little while later, we crested a plateau near the top of the mountain, and a large cave came into view. Smoke and steam billowed from its entrance, along with the sounds of slow, heavy breathing. Was the beast asleep?

  We all shared a cautious glance and slowly crept forward.

  Okay, fine, I panted my ass off as I tried not to die of exhaustion. The stitch in my side was as tall as I was. Everything hurt. Everything burned. I needed, like, a solid hour to catch my breath. But of course, I had none.

  Shuffling slightly, I trailed after the guys over to the mouth of the cave.

  My eyes widened as I peered inside. Lying at the very back of the wide hollow was a massive, snow-white dragon. Its eyes were shut, and its limbs were curled in cozily as it soundly slept. A metal collar as thick as a carriage wheel hung snuggly around the creature’s neck, and a chain of equal girth trailed from the collar to a stone wall, anchoring the beast.

  How the fuck did the Storm King manage to catch this damned thing in the first place? I would have been terrified to get so close. I was terrified.

  "How in the name of the bastard-ass gods are we going to get that collar off?" Dan hissed, not even bothering to hide his look of mild terror.

  "Probably can’t melt it off," Ben whispered, looking over at me. "I’m sure this guy already tried that."

  "That’s true." I glanced back at the dragon, tracing the chain all the way over to the stone wall. I grabbed my golden ax from my belt and lifted it up. "Maybe we can bust it?"

  "Are you insane?" Dan’s pale green eyes widened even further. "The clattering of the metal would wake it in an instant! And I, for one, have no desire to become roasted dragon food!"

  Ash licked his lips and turned toward us, a look of thrill and excitement in his amber eyes. "I know what a dragon looks like now."

  "Nice observation, dipshit," Rob grumbled. "We all do."

  "No, no." Ash shook his head quickly. "I mean, once I know what a creature looks like…"

  He can shift into one.

  "Exactly," Ash replied, shooting me an approving grin.

  Oops. Apparently, in my shock, I’d muttered that thought aloud.

  "And then what?" Cal asked, and I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed by the idea or if he was just genuinely curious. "You fight it like you did with the hydra?"

  Ash shrugged. "Maybe. Sometimes I can sort of communicate with my fellow animals. If this one’s up for chatting, maybe I can just try to explain to him that you guys are here to help?"

  "I don’t know," Ben muttered. "You’re always putting yourself in risky situations. Half the time, it puts us at risk too. What happens if this dragon isn’t feeling chatty? If you two fight and accidentally burn us to a crisp… or if your wings or tails accidentally knock us over the ledge…"

  He didn’t need to finish those sentences. We all knew the end result would either be death or severe weakness and pain for the remaining blood bond members.

  Ash sighed impatiently, lifting his hands. "Does anyone have a better idea?"

  Silence ensued.

  "That’s what I thought." Ash’s grin was back in place in an instant. "So, I’ll try to keep the dragon calm while you guys work on removing the collar."

  "Why don’t we just aim for the chains?" Cal asked. “They’re slightly thinner and probably easier to break through."

  Ash and I both shot him a flat look.

  "What?" he asked, clearly confused.

  I put both hands on my hips. "How would you like to be locked into a thick metal collar for the rest of your life?" I asked.

  Ash nodded. "That thing has got to be heavy and uncomfortable."

  Cal sighed and threw up his hands. "Fine. We’ll work on the collar instead of the chains."

  Ben tapped Dan’s shoulder and pointed to a keyhole in the metal. "See that? If you could wedge some ice in there, and I could wedge a vine in there, we could probably pry it open enough to break the lock. Once that happens, it’ll fall right off. It’ll take a lot of magic though, since the closest tree is all the way at the bottom of the mountain. Would you two mind making sure I have water to drink when this is over? I’m gonna be senseless as fuck."

  Dan smirked at me. "I’ll gather the snow; you heat it into water?"

  I grinned and nodded back. "And we’ll collect it into…?"

  "I’ll make a big wooden cup first," Ben assured us.

  "All right." Ash rubbed his hands together excitedly. "Everybody know what they’re doing?"

  Rob gestured from himself to Cal and Criss. "What the hell are we supposed to be doing while you guys are off playing hero?"

  A smug grin plastered itself onto Ash’s face, and he shrugged. "Stand there and look pretty, I guess."

  "Godsdamn it, Asher, you are infuriating," Rob growled.

  Ash simply chuckled and stepped a few paces away from us, shaking out his limbs as he prepared for the shift. Golden dust flared to life around him, enveloping him in a vortex of glittering magic.

  "Be careful," I warned him as loud as I dared.

  Thankfully the snowy dragon had remained asleep this whole time.

  He grinned at me just before the magic reached his face. "Love you, Sweets. I’ll be back soon."

  "I love you too," I whispered as the magic consumed him.

  The golden cloud grew in size until the swirling dust was as high as the cave ceiling. Chunks of rock broke and crumbled as Asher’s dragon form took physical shape.

  And he was beautiful.

  Metallic looking, with scales of silver, gold, and copper that shimmered like a sunrise, he had a big amber spot on his throat that perfectly matched his eyes. His claws were like black, oversized talons, and I bet when he stretched his wings out they were more than a hundred feet across.

  With all the commotion of Asher’s shift, it was needless to s
ay that the sleeping dragon was now officially awake. It roared so loud my ears went momentarily deaf. All that was left in my head was an annoyingly high-pitched ringing sound. Tiny chips of rock cracked off the cave walls and sprinkled to the ground.

  It charged at us, rumbling the ground at our feet with every stomp it took. I wasn’t even sure I could remain standing. Right before he got close enough to snap his jowls and rip us in half, the chain caught and halted his advance.

  Asher-dragon roared back at him, causing another shower of rock chips to fall.

  Not gonna lie, I was starting to fear the whole cave would collapse if this kept going on.

  "Come here, Peach!" Cal cried, scooping me up and running from the cave. Outside, on the small plateau, the other guys were waiting, peering nervously into the cavern as Ash and the snow dragon faced off.

  "Yeah," Ben commented dryly, "real chatty."

  I wanted to grin at his sarcasm, but I was too shaken up by the events taking place.

  They continued roaring at one another, almost like they were trying to see whose roar was loudest or whose roar would finally cause the cave-in. After a few rounds of it, Ash opened his dragon mouth and spewed out a gust of flames. He made a line from right to left, scorching the ground between the two of them.

  The other dragon tried to do the same, but when he opened his mouth, no fire came out, only sparks and embers.

  Criss must have been right—the dragon needed to recuperate.

  Ash took a deep breath and blew another wave of flames between them, pushing the white dragon back even further until he was once more pressed into the back of the cave wall. With nowhere to go and no fire to fight with, the dragon bowed its head—either waiting to die or admitting his defeat.

  Finally, the roaring stopped.

  For a time, all they did was stare at one another, speaking with nothing more than their eyes and subtle facial expressions. After several silent minutes, the snow dragon glanced over at us and curled back up on the cave floor.

  I exhaled a shaky breath. Seemed Ash was able to talk the thing down after all.

  Ben and Dan crept forward, approaching the untrusting dragon as slowly as they could. A vine trailed like a slow-moving snake behind Ben, and I noticed a small wooden bowl off to the side piled high with snow. Dan carried a thick wedge of ice, which I assumed he could shape and reshape as many times as he wanted—as long he held his breath.