Storm of Fury: Dragon Shifter Romance (Legends of the Storm Book 4)

by Bec McMaster

  “Ishtar?” Sirius glanced at the princess, and then his breath caught and a strange look came over his face.

  “She’s my sister. My twin sister,” Marduk said, stepping between them.

  “Mother Goddess.” Sirius looked like he could barely breathe. “He didn’t kill her.”

  “Who didn’t kill whom?” Haakon demanded.

  “My father didn’t kill the baby.” Sirius shook his head. “I was with my mother when my father brought the child from the birthing chambers. He said she was Chaos-blighted, and that the queen had ordered her death.” His voice tightened. “My mother argued to spare her, and they fought all night. When I woke the next day, both my mother and the baby were gone. I always thought…. I always thought my father had killed the baby and my mother had fled in fury.” He took a step toward Ishtar. “You were the reason my mother fled my court and left me behind.”

  “Leave her alone. She’s suffered enough.”

  “God’s piss, you sound just like your brother. I’m not going to hurt her.” Sirius shook his head, then turned back to the volcano. “You have his talent for throwing yourself headlong into trouble too. Look.”

  There on the horizon were dozens of shapes soaring toward them. Behind them, fire spurted from the volcano in gushes.

  “I think they took exception with us destroying their home.” Tormund shook his head. What the hell were they going to do now? There had to be at least twelve dreki on the winds, and only two at his side. Without the ballista he and Haakon had once used to hunt dragons, they were practically defenseless.

  “We didn’t destroy the court,” Marduk replied. “Dreki courts exist within Chaos-bubbles that are reached via a portal. Didn’t you feel us pass through the portal when we burst through the opening?”

  Tormund shuddered. “I think I was concentrating on trying not to shit my pants. I didn’t think we were going to fit.”

  “It felt like water splashing over my skin,” Bryn admitted. “A shock of icy water.”

  “The court is fine,” Marduk said. “I think they’re taking exception to our presence within it, and our extraction of Ishtar.” He spread his arms. “Sirius and I will—”

  “You’ll do nothing. You’ll only be a hindrance. Get your sister and these other fools out of here,” Sirius snapped, golden light shimmering around him as he spread his arms. “I’ll deal with this mess.”

  Behind him, distant thunder rumbled.

  And with a flash of golden light, Sirius erupted into dreki form and launched himself into the skies.

  “Well, fuck,” Haakon muttered. “Those were his last pair of trousers.”

  “I don’t think we’re going to have to worry about who’s going to cover his bare ass,” Tormund muttered. “Twelve against one? He’ll never survive.”

  “Don’t discount him,” Marduk called, watching the storm brewing in the distance. “My cousin once cut twenty dreki warriors from the skies by himself. If there is anyone they might fear, it’s the Blackfrost.”

  A storm rolled across the skies, thunder shivering through the air as the Blackfrost flapped his way toward his enemies. It seemed like madness. And as much as Tormund didn’t want to admit it, he was a little worried about the bastard.

  “He’ll be fine,” Bryn told him, hauling their packs into the center of the clearing. “I’ve heard rumors of his might. The Bavarian dreki clans whisper tales of him to their kits, warning them never to stir his wrath.”

  “Of course, he’ll be fine,” he scoffed. “Who would worry about the Blackfrost?”

  The slightest smile touched her lips. “Only a mother hen.”

  “I am a dangerous warrior. Renowned for my might and feared in battle.”

  Bryn rolled her eyes. “Cluck. Cluck. Cluck.”

  Ash began to rain down, obscuring their vision. But as Sirius cut like a scythe through the approaching battalion, Tormund saw several dreki peel off from the flank.

  “Shit.” His hand settled on his axe. “I think we’re going to have company very shortly.”

  “Can we outrun them?” Haakon called to Marduk.

  “Maybe.” Marduk’s features tightened in a feral mask. “I’m fast, but the four of you will weigh me down. And carrying you will prevent me from any aerial dynamics. They’ll shred my wings if they’ve any sense, and I won’t be able to stop them.”

  And then all four of them would be nothing more than a smear on the rocks.

  “I vote we stay right here on good, solid ground,” Tormund called.

  Bryn looked around. “There,” she said, pointing to a jumble of rocks. “We make our stand there, where they can’t come at us from behind.”

  “I like the way you think.” He pushed her toward the rocks. “I’ll get the princess. Haakon?”

  His cousin was tearing through the packs, hauling out the enormous crossbow he carried with him. Snapping the limbs of the bow into place, he inserted the grappling hook and attached a wheel that was wound with thin steel cord. “I’ll cover the skies.”

  The bow could shoot a hooked barb into the air, where it would tangle in a dreki’s wings. But it was the thin steel cord attached to the hook that they’d use to anchor the dreki. They just needed something heavy enough to prevent the creature from merely hauling it into the skies.

  “Give me a second,” Tormund yelled, scrambling toward the princess.

  Ishtar stood and stared at the approaching dreki as if she was mesmerized.

  “Your Highness?” Tormund tried to catch her attention. “Ishtar? You’re going to be safe, remember? We’ll protect you. But I think it wise if you took shelter among those rocks while we fight.”

  She was tracing little patterns in the air, and where her finger stirred, little green sparks hissed and crackled. For a second, he thought he saw some sort of rune, but then it evaporated.

  “Ishtar, what are you doing?” Marduk asked, his gaze locked on the third rune she began tracing. This one hung in the air, glowing green. Another joined it, and the prince’s face paled. “Those are elvish runes. It’s forbidden for dreki to use them. We don’t want to draw the attention of the ljósálfar!”

  Tormund looked at him sharply.

  But each rune was vibrating now, and the air tasted metallic. The princess’s arm began to feel hot. What in God’s name?

  “Whoa!” He jerked his hands away from her as a vortex of green sparks swept around her.

  “Ishtar!” Marduk screamed, grabbing for her.

  A swirl of eerie green light enveloped her and the princess vanished. Marduk managed to catch the cloak she’d been wearing, wrenching it aside as if she somehow stood behind it.

  “Ishtar?” Tormund gaped, waving his arm through the air.

  She was gone.

  But that was… impossible?

  He didn’t even know anymore. Each day this world of magic and myth showed him something new and wondrous.

  “I can’t feel her.” Marduk sounded panicked. “She’s gone silent. The song’s gone. I can’t—” His head whipped toward the north and his brow wrinkled. “There she is. She just… popped back into existence again. But to the north. Far to the north somewhere.”

  “Maybe she created a portal,” Bryn snapped, drawing her sword. “If a dreki court is formed within a Chaos-bubble, then Chaos magic must be able to create portals.”

  “She won’t know where she is,” Marduk said, his eyes wild. “Or what to do.”

  Bryn grabbed his arm, pointing her sword toward the incoming dreki. “Let’s deal with this problem first. If you get us out of here, then we can hunt Ishtar afterward. If we’re captured or killed, then she’s going to be all alone.”

  Marduk visibly wiped the turmoil from his brow. “They’re too close. Get ready. I’ll try and drive some of them off, and then come back for you.”

  “Sirius said—”

  Marduk threw himself into the air, a cascade of golden sparks erupting into an enormous dreki that hauled itself upward with huge, beating stro
kes of its wings.

  “Damn it.” Tormund drew his axe. Without a dreki or a ballista, the three of them were virtually defenseless. “How many pairs of trousers does he have?”

  “Take cover!” Haakon yelled, bolting across the countryside toward a rocky overhang. “Tormund!”

  “On it!” He sprinted toward Haakon, and the pair of them began winding the steel cord around an enormous boulder. “Get ready! Here they come!”

  Haakon wound the crossbow tight, and Tormund stepped in front of him to cover his cousin. “Bryn?”

  She stood alone in the middle of the clearing, flames licking up the length of her sword.

  “Bryn!” he yelled again.

  “Shoot it!” she screamed.

  She set her stance, one he recognized all too well. The dreki dove toward her, its wings flat against its body, and its lungs heaving. Bryn merely lifted the sword.

  “Damn it, woman,” he whispered, his weight shifting onto the balls of his feet. “You’re not inflammable. Run. Run.”

  She wasn’t going to run.

  The lead dreki belched an enormous line of flame across the rocks. Tormund sprinted toward Bryn, slamming into her as the dreki swept past. They tumbled head over heels, and heat seared the skin on his back. He gasped and rolled free of her, slapping at the small flames licking at his shirt.

  “What are you doing?” she yelled, scrambling for her fallen sword.

  “Are you insane? That bitch can breathe fire!”

  Bryn cursed under her breath, pushing to her knees and looking up. “I knew what I was doing. Damn it, Haakon, anytime you want to shoot that thing!”

  Tormund gaped at her as she hauled him to his feet.

  But there were more dreki coming, and not enough time to argue.

  The whine of the crossbow’s hook hissed through the air. A dreki screamed in rage as it snarled around the creature’s right wing, and then Marduk was there, tearing into the dreki’s unguarded flank with raking claws.

  “They’re coming down!” Tormund yelled, as the golden dreki prince escaped the trap.

  The brown dreki caught in the cable squealed as it tried to flap free, and was hauled to the ground.

  “And she’s coming around!” Bryn sheathed her sword and shoved him into the trees, as the original black dreki hissed at them.

  “Run!”

  “What about Haakon?” she gasped, as they both sprinted through a grove of birch.

  “He’ll survive!” Tormund yelled. “He’s like a cockroach!”

  It was the pair of them he was worried about. Not all dreki could breathe fire, but this one clearly could. The defiant screech of a thwarted dreki echoed behind them, and then it was flapping over the birch.

  “This way!” He yanked her to the left, heading downhill.

  Over rocks and shale. Through stands of trees, their branches whipping his shoulders and face. A glance over his shoulder showed Bryn on his heels. And a furious dreki soaring over the tree line toward them.

  “Down!” he yelled as the trees thinned out, and they found themselves at the edge of a small cliff. He slid to a halt, then tried to go to the right.

  Bryn slammed into him, driving him over the cliff. He caught a glimpse of a river far below and an outcrop of rock screaming toward him.

  They hit hard.

  The dreki roared, gouts of blue-white flame shooting from her mouth. Bryn rolled over Tormund, tearing her cloak over the pair of them.

  Heat washed over them. He screamed as fire obliterated them, but somehow the flames seemed to disperse.

  And then they were gone, as momentum carried the dreki past them.

  Bryn gasped for breath, lowering the cloak and looking up. Her soft breasts almost crushed his face, distracting him from the pain of landing.

  Tormund gaped up at her, half breathless with the fall. Gods, he didn’t think he could move. But they had to. “Did we just—? How did we—?”

  “Magical cloak,” she told him, her eyes locked on the black dreki trying to kill them. “Impervious to flame and has the ability to turn its wearer invisible.”

  “Let me guess… Thor’s?”

  “Not quite. It once belonged to Freyja.”

  Freyja? Then he realized she’d never met Rurik’s queen. Which meant…. “The goddess? How did you get that?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  Not right now. He had other, more pressing concerns on his mind. “She’s coming back round!”

  Bryn yanked him to his feet. She’d sheathed the sword, and looked down at the narrow goat’s trail that led toward the river. “Not ideal.”

  “Use the cloak! She won’t be able to see you!”

  “It’s barely big enough for two!” But she shoved him against the cliff face, whipping the cloak over the pair of them.

  Tormund clutched her tight, breathing hard. Every inch of them was aligned, and wisps of her hair tickled his nose.

  The dreki shrieked as she whipped past, her wings stirring the cloak around their feet. She must have seen their boots, for she gave a high-pitched roar and he just knew she was going to circle again.

  “Run!” Bryn screamed, pulling him down the mountainside.

  The black dreki was making another dive. Tormund leapt after her. The world was a blur. Wings in the sky. And shale underfoot.

  He slipped, staggering into the cliff, and then his boots went out from under him. “Watch out!”

  He skidded into Bryn, taking her feet from under her.

  Wings thrust down, the wind of the dreki’s passage almost flattening the pair of them. Another near miss. Claws scattered off stone. Tormund rolled over Bryn, and then she was catapulting over the top of him. On and on, locked together until they finally hit the bottom of the ravine.

  Tormund slammed into a rock and stayed there, staring at the sky. “Ow,” he wheezed, trying not to move.

  He could hear water trickling past, as the river glided over smooth pebbles. And the sound of a furious dreki screaming her rage.

  “Get up.” Bryn hauled on his arm. “She’s not done with us yet.”

  “I don’t think I can.” How the hell was she moving? Every inch of him ached and shit, he could barely place any weight on his left foot. His ankle threatened to give way.

  “If you stay here, you’re dead.” Bryn set her feet and yanked him half upright. “I’m not going to protect you with my magic cloak unless you get to your feet and run. Get up, Tormund. Get up. I’ll leave you here. I swear I will.”

  Somehow he gained his feet. The dreki was circling back around. “I must have taken the full brunt of that rock. You’re not even limping.”

  Bryn slipped under his arm, anxiety written all over her face. “I hurt too. But not becoming a dreki’s next meal is a powerful motivator. Move.”

  They hobbled up the bank of the river into another grassy glade.

  He wasn’t going to make it. Every step made him wince, and he was only slowing her down.

  Tormund shoved her away. “Go,” he rasped. “Get out of here. I’ll hold her off.”

  “Hold her off? You don’t even have your axe.”

  “Maybe she has a respect for beards that I find sorely lacking in you.” He limped into the middle of the clearing. There were trees to the right of him. A small stand of rocks. “It is a she, isn’t it?”

  “Tormund!” Bryn’s voice rose. “That’s the queen. I don’t think she’s going to find you half as charming as I do.”

  “You find me charming?”

  “Not at the moment, you idiot!” Bryn shot the dreki a frustrated look. “Damn it.” Reaching over her shoulder, she drew the sword. “This is the worst time to make a final stand!”

  “Then run.”

  She stepped in front of him, holding the sword low. “If you think I’m going to let you make some brave, idiotic final stand out of some misguided sense of chivalry, then you don’t know me very well. This bitch might be the queen, but I’ve faced bigger monsters than her in
my time.”

  “I thought you threatened to leave me behind!”

  “I was trying to make you move, you big idiot!”

  Pulling a vial of something from her pocket, she bit into the wax that sealed the top and tore it free with her teeth, before dripping the inky liquid across her blade.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Leviathan blood. It’s poisonous to dreki.”

  And then she strode toward the dreki hurtling toward them.

  The sight shocked him.

  He’d been certain she’d walk away. Prepared, in fact, to defend himself without her. What he hadn’t expected was for Bryn to try to protect him, and of all the things that stole his composure, this was the worst. He was the protector. He was the one who shielded others. Haakon was the only other person who had ever dared defend him, and Tormund found himself dangerously unnerved by her actions.

  She stood alone, the sword held low as she bellowed into the dreki’s face, “Come and get me, you bitch!”

  And then the sword lit up, flames licking along the bloodied blade.

  The dreki screamed in defiance, and Bryn set herself as the creature swooped….

  Another dreki bugled to the east.

  The black female above them banked sharply, hissing under her breath. And then she was swooping higher, angling directly toward the newcomer.

  Bryn lowered the sword with a curse. “You cowardly creature!” she yelled, hammering her fist in the air. “Come back!”

  “Are you mad?” he gasped, limping toward her and hauling her down from the rock she stood upon. “This is a good thing!”

  Bryn shook him off, breathing hard. “Fuck.” Her hands shook as she lowered the sword, but the light of battle was in her eyes.

  In the distance, lightning lashed through the air and two of the opposing dreki fell. An enormous black creature battled the others, slamming into one and sending it flapping in a desperate spiral toward the ground.

  It was he who had challenged the queen.

  “Yes!” Tormund punched the air. “There’s the Blackfrost.”

  “Stealing my kill,” Bryn grumbled.

  Tormund shook his head. “Thank you,” he said. “For protecting me.”

  The rage died in her eyes, leaving them wide and startled and very green. “I wasn’t…. I was….”