Dragon King of Treoir

by Dianna Love

  Best to not risk exposing a weakness, which would happen if his kinetics failed to knock Ixxter off his feet.

  Ixxter broke free of Bernie’s claws, which had been gripping Ixxter’s chest. The larger gryphon backed away, flapped up in the air and flew at a wobbling Bernie.

  Ixxter hit his mark, then tucked his wing, rolled and gained his feet. He jumped on Bernie, bouncing up and down.

  That fucking Ixxter would crush Bernie one bone at a time if Tristan didn’t stop him.

  Tristan ripped his shirt off and shed his jeans, then called up his gryphon form, forcing the change fast.

  Damn that hurt.

  He groaned at the pain when muscles stretched and pulled. Bones extended and his back split on each side as two wings burst from his body, which was now the color of a thundercloud. Blue and black feathers sheathed his wings.

  He shook out the kinks and pains, feeling spent as a battery with only a surface charge.

  These gryphons had been stuck here too long and by no choice of their own. They needed a chance to return to the human world and feel like real people again.

  All except Ixxter.

  He needed to feel Tristan’s foot shoved up his ass.

  Bernie whimpered and tucked his wings, trying to protect his body. Ixxter kicked the balled-up gryphon.

  Fully shifted, Tristan cracked his neck.

  Their resident bully-gryphon needed to be reminded who was in charge.

  Tristan sent a challenge telepathically. Ready to take on someone your own size, Ixxter?

  Ixxter swung around, feathers puffed. Hatred burned in his eagle eyes. In human form, they all had glowing green eyes, something they shared from their Alterant heritage. Just a bunch of bastard half-breed Beladors, but in a battle they were the baddest of the bad. Ixxter fluttered his red-and-black feathers, puffing up his wings and body even further.

  Tristan said, Nice trick. I’m so impressed. I’d clap if I could.

  Fuck you, Tristan.

  I have standards. Not unless you buy me dinner first.

  Ixxter’s razor-sharp beak could snap off a human head, but he’d have to work harder to cut off Tristan’s eagle head. Ixxter’s chest feathers blazed fire red then blended into dark brownish-black skin with translucent scales on his lower half. He stood on tree-trunk legs bulging with muscle. His thick tail swatted Bernie.

  What a bastard.

  Tristan opened his stance. What’s the matter, Ixxter? Change your mind? Or is it true that when bullies face a real threat the truth comes out? They’re just spineless dweebs with short dicks? I know the short part is right, what about your spine?

  With a sliver of luck, Ixxter would let this go and give Tristan a couple hours to rebuild some of his strength. But if Ixxter still wanted a throwdown, Tristan would accommodate him and not be the only one walking away bloody.

  A noise ground out of Ixxter’s throat, then the gryphon’s harsh voice scraped across Tristan’s mind. You’re not our leader.

  Technically correct.

  The most powerful gryphon led the pack and that would be Evalle Kincaid, who was currently in the human world with a team hunting a serial killer. He’d hate to be in her shoes, tracking some unknown threat, and not be able to shift into gryphon form in the human realm.

  Maybe their new leader, Daegan, would fix that rule.

  Tristan might be tired of flying around Treoir as part of the island security some days, but he liked the freedom to change forms whenever he chose.

  And he believed Daegan meant it when he said the gryphons didn’t need anyone’s permission to be free.

  Ixxter huffed and scratched the ground.

  Tristan wasn’t the true gryphon leader, but he couldn’t stand by and allow that ego-bloated bastard to unleash his frustration on poor Bernie.

  Ixxter stalked forward slowly with his wings hunched.

  The last time this gryphon had started a fight that Tristan interrupted, Ixxter had moved in the same manner, acting as if he was heading over to fight.

  But in the end, Ixxter had passed Tristan and kept going another twenty feet before taking flight.

  Tristan didn’t trust Ixxter one bit.

  He watched for any movement that might televise Ixxter’s intention to take a cheap shot.

  When Ixxter came shoulder to shoulder with Tristan, he paused, giving Tristan a hard, eagle-eyed stare.

  Really? Now they had to play a stare down game?

  Ixxter snorted and continued toward the edge of the bluffs, picking up speed to take flight. It was that or fall to the cliffs below.

  Tristan let out a long breath.

  Pain still spiked through his muscles from shifting so quickly, especially when he was physically drained, but his joint aches were worth ending a conflict without bloodshed this time.

  The sound of wings flapping behind him confirmed Ixxter’s departure.

  Good riddance.

  Now Tristan could focus on the gryphon still curled up on the ground. Are you hurt, Bernie?

  I’ll be okay, Bernie mumbled as he struggled to his feet.

  What the hell were you two fighting over?

  It wasn’t my fault, Tristan. Ixxter started talking trash—

  Dammit, Bernie. I told you to not let him bait you.

  I know, Bernie said, stretching his wings and shaking his head. He turned to face Tristan and his bright green eagle eyes rounded in panic. Tristan! Wa-watch out!

  Tristan turned as Ixxter dive-bombed him at full speed, knocking Tristan backwards and sending him cartwheeling.

  When his paws found the ground, Tristan clawed to stop and pushed up, flapping hard to catch his balance.

  Ixxter whipped around in midair and came right back, ramming Tristan sideways and drawing a bloody line along Tristan’s wing.

  The guy was crazy.

  Bernie’s voice burst through Tristan’s thoughts, I’ll distract him so you can get away.

  Tristan shouted, No. Stay back or you’ll get in my way.

  He shut out everything but the whooshing sound of Ixxter’s wide wingspan as the gryphon worked his way back again.

  Adrenaline rushed through Tristan in a surge of energy. He quivered with fury and called up the Alterant beast that lived inside him. They had all started life as Alterants, a mix of Belador and Medb blood. That beast had been his alter-form prior to evolving all the way into a gryphon. His beast energy could still boost his ability to heal.

  But nobody knew his entire ability, not even him.

  While stuck in a jungle prison, he’d been given a witch highball that allowed him to beef up even faster. Muscle beneath his feathers and the scales covering his body began pumping up, bulging and rippling.

  Shifting back later was going to suck, but Tristan had to survive long enough to worry about the agony of returning to human form.

  Ixxter had not stayed on Treoir out of loyalty to anyone. No, this had been the only sanctuary of a sort.

  His gritty voice slapped the inside of Tristan’s head. I’ve had it with that sniveling twerp and your bullshit. I’ve waited long enough to get off this fucking island and you should have made that happen by now.

  Tristan replied, Everything is not about you, dickhead. If you’d stop causing trouble I could spend more time getting all of you off the island for a break.

  I don’t want a break. When I leave, I’m not coming back. Ixxter came in fast, front claws ready to flay Tristan the minute he slid in for a landing.

  Tristan kept his wings wrapped around his body and whispered to himself, Wait for it ...

  Ixxter’s body dropped to twenty feet off the ground, fifteen, ten ...

  Tristan opened his wings and showed Ixxter what a gryphon jacked up on witch juice looked like.

  Ixxter’s bright eyes widened, but his momentum drove him forward and his arrogance rode shotgun.

  Tristan released an unearthly battle cry and flapped up in the air j
ust high enough to use his sharp lion claws. He raked Ixxter’s chest over and over, driving the crazed gryphon back.

  Tristan’s plan had been damned good.

  It would have worked, too, if Ixxter hadn’t twisted away and caught one of Tristan’s hind legs with his beak, dragging them both to the ground.

  Tristan clenched his beak to keep from screaming at the white-hot pain shooting up his leg every time Ixxter yanked, ripping muscle.

  Any strategy went out the window right then.

  Tristan fell back on what he’d learned as a street fighter, which was to do whatever it took to survive.

  He should kill Ixxter and rid the world of one more homicidal maniac, but dying would only make Ixxter more powerful. The gryphons regenerated up to three times due to the way the Alterant-gryphons had evolved.

  That was some fucked up genetic coding, and they’d all gone through one death. Some, like Evalle, had been through three, the maximum number before death was final.

  Killing Ixxter and bringing him back more powerful was not happening.

  But breaking every bone in his body was on the table and would slow him down while the bully healed.

  Tristan jabbed a claw at Ixxter’s eye, gouging the orb and forcing Ixxter to release his beak’s hold on Tristan’s thigh.

  Finally.

  Hurting like a mother from one end to the other, Tristan shook it off and leveraged what energy he had to get up on his legs. He ignored the urge to hop around and spare his damaged leg. He could heal it, but he wouldn’t do that yet and risk taking his attention off his opponent.

  Ixxter sidestepped, weaving and shaking his head.

  Bernie had been standing off to the left and made a move toward Ixxter as if he still planned to help.

  Tristan glanced over and ordered, No, Bernie!

  Ixxter took advantage of Tristan’s divided attention in that split second and raced forward, flapping at the same time. As he lifted up, claws dug into Tristan’s wings, yanking him off his feet. Ixxter dragged him backwards toward the bluff.

  The sound of water crashing against jagged boulders below warned Tristan not to go over backwards.

  But he had no way to wrench his body when he couldn’t get his backpedaling feet beneath him. The chance of flipping a body as big as a truck and catching air in time to avoid being crushed on the rocks was laughable.

  Teleporting would not happen. He was too spent to use it again and had no idea if it would even work normally in gryphon form.

  At the last second before the ground fell away, Tristan lunged up and caught Ixxter’s wing with his beak, clamping down to hold on.

  Ixxter released a screech of pain that sounded like metal being twisted.

  They shot past the drop off with Ixxter flapping one wing and attacking Tristan with his beak to free his other wing.

  A buffeting wind flipped their position, putting Tristan on top.

  When he saw water beneath him, he released Ixxter and focused every ounce of power he had into flapping his wings.

  But flying worked best when gravity didn’t have a head start.

  Tristan burned muscles whipping his giant wings and strained to slow his body from screaming toward the rocks.

  Ixxter did a sideways roll and opened his wings wide.

  Expecting a rogue updraft?

  It would be close but ... that damned black-and-red body glided away from one pile of boulders, giving Tristan hope that he could also catch an updraft.

  But Ixxter’s wingspan proved too wide to pass through an opening between two tall outcroppings. The wind drove him toward them.

  His right wing whacked the rocks. Ixxter spun around and hit the water in an explosion of feathers and spray. He flipped end over end, and landed with one massive splash.

  Tristan prepared for the same wreck as he headed downward and spread his wings to catch any air. He forced his body to bank to avoid those two outcroppings.

  If he didn’t bank hard enough, he’d be caught in the same situation that had gotten Ixxter.

  If Tristan didn’t catch some updraft, he still risked dragging his body across the top of tall, jagged rocks below. They’d rip his chest open.

  That would suck, but he’d rather have his wings, which meant use of his arms once he shifted back to human form.

  If all that happened before he drowned.

  Chapter 12

  Saltwater bashed the boulders straight ahead, bathing the serrated edges in foam.

  Tristan fought the force of falling at hyperspeed and wrenched his wings harder to catch air. This was not going to work. He prepared for a bloody collision with the boulders waiting to tear into him.

  His world condensed to microseconds.

  A wind buffeted him. He wobbled. The wind caught beneath his wings and forced him up and further right. He zipped past the boulders, close enough that he cleared them only by sucking his chest in and keeping his feet tucked. He went up and up.

  Damn. That was a rush and a half.

  Yeah, enjoying that made him certifiable.

  Surviving the near-impact had shot his attention. It took a moment to realize he was still flying up, but slowing. He’d stall next if he didn’t start flapping his wings.

  He swept around, now a half mile out from the rocks, and had to admit that even with all his sniping at Evalle about being stuck here patrolling, he did love flying.

  Guess I’ll have to save Ixxter’s miserable hide.

  Tristan circled, searching the churning water where Ixxter had disappeared.

  The gryphon had managed to get up on the rocks and was drying out his wings.

  Good. That icy bath should cool off Ixxter’s temper, plus the bully would be down there a bit while he called up his power to heal anything broken.

  Tristan lowered his legs as he came in for a landing at the bluff.

  Bernie had returned to human form and was in the process of pulling on his ripped T-shirt and ragged jeans, which he must have found in the woods.

  Tristan sucked it up and grunted as he shifted back to his human shape, which took much longer than it should have. He was done with changing for a while. Doing it one more time right away would be damn near impossible. That damn Ixxter had ruined Tristan’s plan for a relaxing flight.

  Once he got through groaning and panting with the effort, Tristan dressed and walked over to Bernie, who looked ashamed.

  Bernie swatted a handful of red-brown hair off his face and his shoulders drooped. “I’m sorry about causing trouble, Tristan, but Ixxter said ... stuff he shouldn’t have.”

  “What could be worth getting stomped to death?”

  Bernie’s eyes flared with fury. “He called Petrina names and said she was sleeping with all the guards. I’m gonna kill him.”

  Fuck. Tristan wished he hadn’t shifted back already or he’d kick Ixxter’s ass again.

  Petrina was Tristan’s foster sister and Ixxter knew everything he said about Petrina was a lie. If Petrina found out, she’d go after Ixxter. Petrina was deadly as a gryphon, but Tristan would not allow Ixxter to put one mark on her.

  Tristan scrubbed his face with his hands and dropped them to his sides. “You do realize Ixxter said all that just to goad you into a fight, don’t you, Bernie?”

  “I know,” he mumbled glumly. “I hate that guy.”

  “He’s not winning Pack Member Of The Year, that’s for sure.”

  Bernie looked up with panic. “You didn’t kill him, did you?”

  Tristan walked back to the edge to check on the jerk. “Hell no. I’m not giving him any edge over us.”

  Ixxter was no longer sitting on the rocks.

  Had he gone back to the gryphon camp?

  The sound of wings beating furiously and heading his way gave Tristan his answer when he looked down the coastline.

  Ixxter had flown below the bluff and was coming back.

  Oh, hell.

  Tristan cou
ldn’t shift again. He strolled back to give himself some room to work. Standing by the edge wouldn’t work out as well this time.

  Bernie started trembling. “What are we going to do?”

  “You stay back. I’ve got this.” Good to know Tristan had not lost the ability to lie through his teeth. He cut his eyes at Bernie and cringed at the hero worship staring back.

  Ixxter slowed and set his wings to land, taking a couple steps and towering over Bernie and Tristan. A gleam of victory flashed in his green eyes.

  Tristan had to suffer through Ixxter laughing telepathically. Sometimes it would be nice to turn off his inner hearing.

  Ixxter stepped forward, taking his time. If an eagle’s beak could smile, it sure looked like Ixxter was grinning. He dipped his head to eye level with Tristan and said mind to mind, If I bite off your head, you won’t regenerate.

  True. Cutting off the head of a supernatural being was generally a good way to ensure death no matter what.

  Tristan shrugged. Did Ixxter really think he’d beg? He sent back what might be his last words. If I do regenerate, I’m coming after you and I will not leave enough parts to fit back together.

  Ixxter hesitated as if considering that possibility, but must have realized how tiny a chance Tristan had of surviving, because Ixxter lifted his head and screeched in triumph.

  The blowhard was rubbing it in before he killed Tristan.

  Bernie whispered a shaky, “T-Tristan?”

  Tristan kept his attention on Ixxter, waiting to the last second to make a defensive move. He’d probably still end up ripped apart, but he was not going down without a fight.

  Ixxter arched his neck, bringing his head back down to Tristan and stretching his beak wide.

  Another set of wings flapped and the gryphon froze.

  I’d think twice about biting off more than you can chew, Ixxter, Daegan’s voice said, booming in Tristan’s mind. That meant everyone present had heard it.

  Ixxter jerked around and sidestepped.

  A fifteen-foot-tall dragon with leathery skin covered in red scales and giant, bat-like wings swept in, landing hard enough to shake the ground.