“Stop, please, Aura,” Thad said, just before he flew directly at Ladon and sank his claws into the other dragon’s chest. Ladon’s blood flowed over his scales from the wounds, and he breathed fire with new desperation. He struggled and bit, even as Thad’s scales smoked, and Aura hated that she couldn’t help.
Would Thad’s sense of honor be his undoing? Ladon took a deep breath and breathed fire with all nine mouths, creating a blaze so bright that Aura couldn’t look at it.
“No!” she cried, but Thad slammed the other dragon into a tree. He held him there, and punched each head until it sagged on its neck. He left one, then cast Ladon high into the air.
“You’re no better than a viper,” Thad declared, sending the other dragon flying through the air with a thump of his tail. “No other dragon would dare to interfere with a firestorm. No other dragon would think to injure a mate!”
Ladon fell heavily and the ground shook with the impact. Thad dived after him, but the other dragon held up a claw.
He coughed and considered Thad. “A firestorm?” he echoed, looking between Aura and Thad. For the first time, he seemed to notice the radiant orb of light between them. His eyes widened as he considered Thad. “You are Pyr.”
“Aren’t you?” Thad demanded. He was still agitated, still ready to fight. He flew in restless circles around the other dragon, and his eyes were narrowed to watchful slits. Aura noted the blood that stained his scales and winced that they were so singed.
“I am a dragon through and through,” Ladon said with audible regret. “I have no power to change shape.”
Aura could see that, for there was no alternate guise visible when she looked at Ladon. Thad, though, was clearly surprised.
“I’ve never known a dragon,” he admitted.
“I’ve never known a Pyr,” Ladon countered and Aura would have laughed out loud at their mutual astonishment if she’d had a better idea what to expect from the guardian of the garden.
To her relief, Ladon held out a claw in concession. “Help me up and show me this firestorm of legend.”
Thad lifted Ladon bodily from the ground and eased him into one of the more sturdy of the apple trees. The dragon sighed contentment to be there and coiled his tail immediately around the trunk. His wings fluttered to his back and his chins settled on various boughs.
Aura shifted shape and stood at the edge of the forest, close to Ladon. She saw the eyes close on six of his battered heads, but one of his gazes remained locked upon her. A second head watched Thad, while a third surveyed the garden at large, seeking intruders. Thad flew overhead, circling the garden as he peered in every direction. Aura frowned at the delay, but Ladon chuckled.
“They are said to be more protective than the rest of us,” he said softly. “But the treasure held most dear by a Pyr is not a golden hoard or even an orchard of golden apples.”
“What then?” Aura asked, curious.
Ladon smiled, revealing many sharp teeth. “His mate.” Aura’s heart skipped a beat and she couldn’t hold Ladon’s knowing gaze. She turned to watch Thad circle back toward her. “You are fortunate, Aura. It is said that there is no woman better loved than the mate of a Pyr.”
Aura smiled, remembering Thad’s words. Let me love you.
The glow around her heart made her think it might not take very long for her to love him back.
But a son.
Thad landed with that athletic grace, shifting shape just before his feet touched the ground, and Aura realized to her dismay that his injuries followed him between forms. He strode toward her, blood staining his strange clothing, and Aura ran to him in her concern. The firestorm’s light brightened as she approached him but he smiled, obviously noticing her fears and appreciating them. “It’s not so bad as it looks. I just need to wash out the wounds.”
“A fierce glow,” Ladon murmured. “Does it hurt?”
“Hardly,” Thad said.
“But it burns,” the other dragon said. “I can see that it must.”
Thad smiled. “But not in a painful way.”
Ladon looked between them, then smiled in understanding. His gaze seemed to linger on the flush in Aura’s cheeks and she assumed he could sense that her heart was fluttering in Thad’s presence.
“I have one favor to ask you before we satisfy the firestorm,” Aura murmured and saw how her words pleased Thad. She might be a nymph but she didn’t want an audience for their intimacy. She took Thad’s hand to lead him to a stream. It was clear how much it pleased him that she touched him first, and she liked the way his fingers curled around hers. They shared a smile that heated her to her toes, and one she thought might have done so even without the firestorm’s help. They had taken a dozen steps when the other dragon hailed them.
“A viper,” Ladon called from the tree, like an old man determined to gossip at the worst possible moment. Aura looked at the ground and tried to summon her patience. “What do you know of vipers, young Pyr?”
“Only that they have to be killed,” Thad said. His tone was hard and Aura glanced up to find his jaw set.
“Because you’ve done it?” Ladon was taunting, which Aura didn’t understand.
Thad nodded only once. “I belonged to a force charged with that task.”
“What are vipers?” Aura whispered.
“Pyr or dragons who turn against mankind,” he replied quietly. “They sing a spell, low and deep, one that turns men’s minds to hatred and bloodshed.”
Aura nodded. She could already see his sense of honor and duty. Was he a dragon of his word? Aura liked to think so, and she knew what promise she wanted him to keep.
“Then you know what happened to Cadmus.” Ladon’s tone turned sharp. “Maybe you were responsible for the attack on Cadmus.”
“I was there,” Thad said tightly. “We fulfilled our mission.” He looked back at the old dragon slithering in the tree, pride in his stance and confidence in his gaze.
“You failed,” Ladon sneered.
“Only the first time.”
“So you say. Maybe we old dragons can teach you Pyr a few things.”
“Maybe not.” They stared at each other, antagonism in Thad’s stance.
What did Ladon know that Aura didn’t? Ladon might be the guardian of the orchard but Aura had never really liked or trusted him. He was owed respect for his role as guardian, but he did seem to like making trouble.
“If he’s dead, who struck the killing blow?” Ladon hissed. “If he’s dead, who’s singing his spell?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Thad replied. “What had to be done was done. You can believe me or not.”
He dismissed the old dragon then, turning his attention to Aura. He smiled down at her and tightened his grip on her hand. “Lead on,” he murmured, his gaze warm. The light of the firestorm burnished his features, making a wonderful glow between the two of them. He bent and stole a sweet hot kiss, one that made Aura more than ready to see him naked. “Will you bathe me, Aura?” he murmured.
Aura would have led him to the stream to do just that, but Ladon called out again. “They said the ones who attacked Cadmus were enchanted for their audacity and lost forever to the sands of time.”
Thad froze and Aura felt the tension in him.
Was it true?
Thad turned with care and faced Ladon again. “They were wrong. I’m back.”
“But Cadmus still sings.”
“He won’t do so forever,” Thad said, his voice hard.
Ladon laughed. “Why should I believe you?”
“Because I don’t lie.”
“Is he lying?” Aura murmured.
Thad shook his head and gave Aura an intent look.
Would he confide in her? She hoped so.
She led him away from Ladon and the serpent’s questions, although now she had a number of questions of her own.
Ladon had made her realize there was a lot she didn’t know about Thad, his alliances and any missions he might have. She knew he must
be honorable and knew he would fulfill any promises or duties. She could see already that that was his nature. But what about fighting these vipers? Could he be compelled to leave her and any son they had, no matter what she did and what he chose?
That wasn’t a very encouraging possibility. Aura had to know more.
* * *
Ladon’s words were like a toxin. Thad felt their effect upon Aura and saw the new hesitation in her manner. His anger flared at that. How dare that dragon meddle in a firestorm? How dare he undermine everything of importance?
“Were you enchanted?” Aura asked softly, so softly that even Ladon wouldn’t be able to hear her.
“Yes, but I’m not anymore.”
“Are you cursed?”
“Not unless you consider my nature to be a curse. I don’t.” He smiled at her, hoping to reassure her, but Aura seemed to still be troubled.
“What about she-who-should-not-be-named?”
He eyed her in confusion. “Who?”
“Hades gave her the right to seek vengeance on your kind in the mortal realm.”
Thad frowned. “I don’t know anything about that.”
“But the viper?”
He turned to face her, knowing he had to reassure her. “It’s true. We hunted a viper and we thought we killed him.” Her eyes widened but he carried on. “It was Cadmus, who had turned against mankind.”
“And thus was violating your mission.” She squeezed his hands. “I like that you ensure the integrity of your own kind.”
“We have to. It’s part of our responsibility.”
“I still like it,” she admitted with a smile that encouraged Thad.
“He triumphed over us that first time, and we became dragon’s teeth. Each warrior was enchanted to be a tooth in his maw.” To Thad’s relief, this didn’t seem incredible to Aura, but then she was a nymph who heard regularly about enchantments.
“You each became a weapon to be used against others. That’s very unpleasant, if clever. What saved you?”
“He was ancient then and withered, and soon he became no more than a pale worm in the shadows. Over the centuries, his teeth fell out and were buried in the earth. We slumbered in that form, trapped.”
Her eyes were round. “Beguiled by his song?”
“Probably to some extent,” Thad admitted. “One day we were found. The collection of teeth sold and traded hands, until it came into the possession of a Pyr who knew what we were and how to break the spell.”
“How did he do it?”
“He sowed the teeth in the earth, like seeds, and we sprang forth from the soil, warriors once again.”
“Was Cadmus dead?”
“Faded but not dead. He still sang his poisonous song to beguile men, even without his teeth, even with his faded strength. Under the direction of our old commander, we gathered and hunted him anew, and the second time, we triumphed.”
Aura’s smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. “But you said centuries had passed.”
Thad nodded. He wasn’t sure how she would accept or believe what he told her, but he wouldn’t have any lies between them. “This happened almost twenty-five hundred years in the future.”
“Yet you are here now. Can you journey through time? Is this a magical power of your own, or of your kind?”
Thad shook his head. He was glad that she was asking questions, and even more glad to be able to answer them honestly. The firestorm lit the night to a golden glow around them, and they spoke quietly together even as they walked. It was intimate and romantic and honest, everything Thad had always wanted to experience with his mate.
The answering light in Aura’s eyes convinced him that the firestorm had chosen the perfect mate for him. He loved how she helped him in battle, and how they were already learning to use their powers together. He liked that they were both shifters, too.
They didn’t have to have any secrets from each other.
“There is a force known to the Pyr called darkfire,” he explained. “It’s a strange and unpredictable power, and centuries ago, it was trapped within three quartz crystals to keep it contained. One crystal was broken in that distant future and the darkfire was set free. The light in another crystal was awakened and it called to our leader. When he had it in his hand, it carried our company through time and space, gradually separating us from each other.”
“Which is why you are alone,” she said, her sympathy clear.
Thad smiled. “I’m not alone. The darkfire brought me to my firestorm.” He gripped her hands more tightly and the flames emanated from their linked hands. “It brought me to you, Aura.”
“You don’t miss your fellow warriors?”
He held her gaze with resolve. “I do, but I have faith that all will be as it should be. The darkfire brought me here for a reason, and I will see this firestorm a success if it is the last thing I do.”
Aura studied him, so serious that he waited for whatever she was building up the courage to say.
“Will you do something for me?” she asked finally, her tone hinting that it was a request Thad might prefer to decline.
He nodded immediately.
She smiled at that. “Without even knowing what it is?”
“Of course. I trust you and I want you to trust me.”
Aura reached beneath her flowing tunic and produced a golden apple. It was more than yellow in tone; it looked to be made of gold. It was perfectly formed, like a sculpture of an apple. “Take a bite, and tell me that everything you’ve said to me is true.”
Thad smiled then, his confidence unshaken. “So, one of the stories is true,” he murmured. He didn’t wait for her answer, but took the apple from her.
Their fingers brushed during the transaction and a flurry of sparks erupted from the point of contact. The brilliant orange light was reflected in the gleaming surface of the fruit and in the darkness of Aura’s eyes.
Thad bit into the apple, uncertain what to expect. It tasted as sweet as honey, and the flesh was firm. “It’s pretty good,” he said, surprised at the discovery, and Aura smiled. She might have laughed, but she was waiting. He sobered and looked into her eyes. “Every single thing I have told you, Aura, is the absolute truth.” He reached for her hand and laced their fingers together, savoring the heat that built between their palms. “Let me love you.”
“You don’t want me to take a bite, too?”
“I trust you.”
“And I trust you,” Aura replied with a smile. She leaned closer and bit into the apple, her gaze locked with his. Her smile broadened, then turned mischievous. “Let’s satisfy the firestorm,” she murmured and Thad’s heart leapt.
“I don’t see any reason to rush,” he whispered, then bent to kiss her cheek. Her skin was so soft and her perfume tempted him as none other could. He heard her catch her breath and yet again, his heart matched its pace to hers. The firestorm flared with a predictability that warmed his heart as well as everything else. He closed his eyes and kissed her earlobe, loving how her heart skipped in response. “How long do you think we can endure the firestorm’s burn?” he whispered.
“I don’t know,” she murmured in reply and Thad melted at the brush of her lips across his own cheek. “But I’m willing to find out.”
They were in perfect agreement about that.
* * *
The Slayer Jorge despised darkfire.
He had never been the kind of dragon who allowed others to control his choices, and having this incomprehensible force fling him through time and space did not suit Jorge’s agenda at all. He had tried to make the most of being cast into the ancient world, after being dragged into the depths of the earth by Pele during Brandon’s firestorm. That journey had ended badly for him at Delphi, with another sojourn in fathomless darkness before the darkfire had appeared again. He would have liked to have ignored the blue-green spark that beckoned him onward, but darkfire had gotten him into trouble and Jorge reasoned only darkfire could get him out of it.
He didn’t trust the garden. He didn’t trust it one increment more than he trusted the darkfire. There were no humans in the vicinity of the garden, which seemed to be hidden in a mountain pass, so he had no idea why he was there. There was no one to victimize or use for his own purposes, which made the garden a wasteland in Jorge’s view. He took the form of a salamander and sulked over the injustice of his situation in the shade of rock.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there when he felt the spark of a firestorm. He brightened at that, because a firestorm meant there’d be at least one human within proximity. Since he blamed the Pyr for many of his woes, Jorge liked the idea of taking out his frustrations on an enamored dragon shifter. Assassinating the mate of a Pyr would be a perfect way to improve his mood.
He smiled when he smelled the Pyr. It was one of the Dragon’s Tooth Warriors, unless Jorge missed his guess. They had a distinctive scent about them, one that was evocative of the past yet not dusty or rotten. They were less readily distinguished from each other than their modern counterparts, but had firestorms all the same.
He couldn’t smell the mate, even when he saw the shadow of the Pyr in question descending into the garden in dragon form, the heat of the firestorm illuminating him brilliantly.
Jorge crept out from the shade of his rock, cautious but curious.
If a salamander’s eyes could widen in shock, those of the golden yellow salamander that was Jorge would have done so.
Because he suddenly caught a whiff of Viv Jason, the so-called ally of the Slayer Chen. She was here, and he could smell the heat of her fury.
Had the darkfire snared her, as well?
Surely, she couldn’t be this Pyr’s destined mate?
Jorge had to know for sure.
Chapter Three
The apple had shown Aura the truth. Thad believed there would be a son, that the firestorm must result in the conception of a son.
But the apple revealed to Aura that there was no son in her future.
Thad was wrong.
It wasn’t a crime to believe in the tales of his kind, and Aura actually counted his faith in his favor. He liked the story. He wanted it to be true.
Kiss of Destiny Page 5
