Cimmerian Shade: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance & Urban Fantasy Collection

by Kiki Howell

  He’d left Brooks’s early in the morning. Upon arriving at the arena, he’d discovered his illusion would be the last of the day. So he’d sat here, practicing, thinking, and practicing some more. He’d listened as the crowd cheered each competitor of the day, and even though he’d participated several times in the past, his hands were still clammy with nerves.

  He really wanted his last piece for the credence on his wall. Then he could master that credence while saving to buy the next one. But he also wanted Dovie. If he had the chance to talk to her after the competition, he would tell her he wanted her in his life. There were things he could do to help ease her into the dragon clan, and maybe the healers would help with some magics of their own to calm her during the new moons and dragon shifting. Or she could stay in Enve while the clan celebrated the new moon each month. There were ways to make this work. His gut twisted. He didn’t hold high hopes she would want to stay with him. He hadn’t helped to make her want to. And though he hated the fearful look he was sure to see in her eyes, he had to try. His dragon scales rippled beneath his skin.

  A little dragonling messenger popped his head in. “Torren, you’re up.”

  “Thanks, kid.” Torren let out a deep breath. He hoped the Ancients liked his illusion. He’d put a lot into it. Torren grabbed his artifact and headed out of the chamber. He followed the dragonling down the hall. It was good for young to be a part of the challenge even if they couldn’t compete until they were of age. It helped them learn the expectations of the clans and showed them there was more to magic than shifting. Many of the dragonlings were messengers for the halls of the arena during the challenge. It was an honor to help present the competitors. He’d loved being involved as a child, one of the rare moments his father had ever expressed pride in his offspring.

  Cavernous halls circled the entire building, their walls reaching up to the vaulted ceiling high enough to fit a fully shifted dragon. The earthen dirt aroma helped calm his nerves and he wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. This would never get easier. He’d always have this nervousness when he competed. At least he didn’t puke before the competition like some others. The sun shined through an open doorway, limning the horizon in oranges and reds. It was well after noon but not quite dinnertime.

  He walked into the outer chamber of the arena, a staging area where competitors could ready themselves. Some put on elaborate costumes, while others, like Torren, tried to stay as comfortable in his jeans and T-shirt as possible. Each moon dragon had their own rituals for luck. Torren preferred to concentrate more on the comfort of his body so that energy flowed smoothly from the earth and his artifact through him and into the air where his illusion would take place. Today, though, many had already packed their stuff up, waiting for the final moon dragon to compete and the Ancients to give out winnings for the day.

  Technically, as long as competitors provided a flawless illusion and demonstrated their skill, then they would “win” for the day. But only the one who showed the Ancients the most skill, power, and ability would become the official winner and the next horde sovereign, which wouldn’t be announced until the end of the fourteen-day challenge. Instead, each competitor earned treasures brought down from the Never Caves by the Ancients and awarded to moon dragons based on the difficulty, execution, and artistry of their illusion. Most of the time the Ancients gave out materials the individual would need for their next credence. He needed a black opal, which meant his illusion needed to have a little twist to it, as black opals weren’t always given out at the challenges. Hence his nerves.

  The dragonling boy introduced him as he walked onto the arena floor. The crowd cheered as they had with each competitor before him, some standing with children on their shoulders, other couples sitting hand in hand, many of them already showing signs of the shift. Nearly every dragon from all five clans was here, the reds, greens, blues, golds, and blacks of each clan all intermingling, cheering with each other, having a good time. While colors could intermix on the dragon it stayed in the shades of clan, red tones for Ember clan, gold and brown tones for earth clan, etc... Each dragon took on colors based on genetics. It didn’t matter that the Wandering Mountain had thousands of miles of space in which each clan had their own region. The first Ancients had created the mountain and the regions to house each clan. Ocea clan had a water region, amply supplied with lakes and rivers. His earth clan contained the forest and acres of vegetated land where they could draw the most power. He'd never been to the other regions, but he knew by word of mouth each clan's habitat was unique to them.

  A roar bellowed out above the arena and everyone including Torren looked up. A moonstruck circled down toward the middle of the arena. Screams rang out as fire leaped from the black dragon’s snout, his red eyes blazing through the smoke and flames. He snapped at moon dragons trying to move farther up in the stands. Torren felt helpless as he watched the beast land near him, closing in one giant black foot at a time. There was a red gash along the moonstruck’s abdomen. It was the same one from his house! More of Torren’s golden scales rippled over his skin, but before he could call on his magic to help protect the clans, the Ancients had spelled the moonstruck.

  The beast snorted as its eyes rolled to the back of its head and it fell with a thud to the arena floor. Cracking the stones.

  “Please be calm. We have taken control and will move the moonstruck away from anything he or she might harm,” all three Ancients said at the same time. And within seconds, the beast vanished.

  Nervous laughter, probably from shock, sprang out among the large crowd. They shuffled their way back into the stands, looking up and all around, searching for more danger as they found their original seats. Torren stood in the ring and waited for the crowd to calm. Once voices began to hush, he spun in a semi-circle until he found the high-rise where the three Ancients were seated.

  They sat in high-back chairs close to the arena floor. Each one had a slightly different coloring to their eyes, depending on which clan they originally hailed from. Blue eyes for the Ocea clan, orange-yellow eyes for the Ember clan, and Silver eyes for the Nighe clan. All three dragons had been Ancients since Torren was a boy. The Ancients were ascended dragons, able to shift whenever they wanted or needed, guardians to all dragons, protectors of the realm. White hair sprouted from their heads, differing lengths and braids intermixing. They were beings of immense power, able to create and destroy. Some even said their abilities were omnipotent.

  But through research, Torren knew they were not immortal so much as aging slowly due to their power levels. If they exerted magical powers beyond that of their original credences, they aged faster, until finally death claimed them. Which was the only way a new Ancient was brought in, and that new shifter had to already be an apprentice. They currently had two apprentices. Torren had hoped to be the third. Until he’d met Dovie.

  He bowed to the Ancients and again to the crowd. When he put his artifact in the middle of the arena floor, the crowd hushed. Torren opened the pages and stepped back, ready to create something close to his heart. Win or fail, he wished Dovie was here to see it.

  .

  Chapter Eighteen

  DOVIE’S HEART SPUTTERED in her chest as she sat waiting for Torren’s illusion. The black dragon that had attacked her was still fresh in her mind, and she’d thought for sure it would eat her, or burn her alive when it had landed in the arena. She rubbed her hands together to alleviate the stress and tried to focus on the event. Brooks grinned from ear to ear beside her as Torren began.

  The arena reminded her of a gladiator pit, only the audience members were shifting dragons in various forms, covered in so many colored scales. She was a bit in awe of how supportive the crowd was, how they cheered for each individual, and the things the participants created were beautiful. She’d seen blazing illusions of fire dragons dancing with each other. From water dragons, waves lighting the sky in blues and greens as if she had been sitting on the ocean’s floor, creatures swimming past her. Brooks had
told her that each dragon performed based on their own credence knowledge as well as clan ability. Water dragons relied on water magic, fire dragons on fire, earth dragons on plants and earth energy, healers pulled from the sun and the very air and shadow dragons pulled from the darkness and air around them. All the challengers had performed wonderfully. If she had to choose a winner, she would be stuck.

  The crowd hushed when Torren placed the leaf-patterned book he had gotten from her store on the ground. He clasped his hands together and his light-colored hair fluttered in the energy surrounding him in a dark gold haze. Tendrils of light swirled off the golden aura, dancing toward the book. His eyes were closed in concentration. She’d confront him at the end. She’d encourage him to at least hear her out. Her hopes soared as Torren’s illusion began to take shape. Bright sparkling ivy strands grew from inside the book, sprouting up, blossoming into leaves the likes of which she’d never seen before. They curled in swirls, creating a familiar pattern. Not so much veins, but true swirls.

  Torren flung his hands above his shoulders and spread them wide. The energy burst from him, enveloping the nascent vines and sprouts. More circles and swirls danced around the arena, coming together until Dovie realized what she was seeing. Sparkling motes of energy rained down on everyone but touched no one. Her heart skipped in her chest when the circles curled in on themselves, spiraling. Torren’s hands stopped moving and then he dropped both arms. The biggest spiraling circle was entangled with leaves and vines, its corners coming together to form a giant eye. Just like he had done when he’d learned how to quill with her. Torren pulled his hands down slowly, eyes till closed, and a blue veil covered the arena, cascading down until it touched the eye. The blues twisted, circled and elongated within themselves until scales appeared in the air. A snout grew out from the eyes, and horns curled back in an elaborate spiral. He’d made her dragon! He had been thinking about her! Tears leaked from her eyes and she wiped at them, not caring if anyone saw them. Hope in the possibilities of tomorrow blossomed and spiraled in her, just like the beautiful blue dragon above.

  Just as quickly as the dragon illusion had come together, it all rushed back down into the book. The pages closed on themselves, and it lifted from the arena ground. Torren opened his honey-colored eyes and bowed to the book. When he straightened, the book shattered into a million glittering pieces and was absorbed into his skin. Every competitor before Torren had absorbed their artifact, but somehow she only saw the beauty in Torren’s. His eyes seemed to catch hers and heat pooled between her legs. It was the first time she’d laid eyes on the moon dragon since the attack and she didn’t want it to be the last.

  “He made a very engaging illusion, don’t you think, Dovie?” Brooks asked.

  Dovie peeled her eyes off Torren to look at Brooks. She didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded, not trusting her emotion-laced voice to work. Some deep part of Torren had paid attention to her and hopefully still wanted her.

  All the dragons had seemed to walk around on tiptoes with her, asking how she was feeling, reminding her she was safe over the course of the last few days. Torren had saved her and she still hadn’t been able to properly thank him. Sure, running into another dark dragon had bothered her. But over the course of the last five days, it didn’t seem like those moonstruck creatures came this far into the dragon clan. She could live with that, inside the safety of the clan city.

  She wasn’t sure she could step foot in Torren’s house again, but if he was willing to try, she would too. And now that his challenge was over, he didn’t have an excuse not to see her.

  Every one hushed around her as three old men rose in a stage by the arena floor. Their voices boomed, calling to each participant. Once all of the day’s participants were gathered in front of the stage, they were each given a box. After all the boxes were distributed, the participants held them high and the audience cheered again. Torren opened his and a black opal rested in his hand. The look on his face was both relief and torment as the competitors walked out of the arena. The crowd settled into conversations as they stood and gathered their things.

  “I hope you plan to celebrate with us before we proceed with the detachment,” Brooks said, watching her closely.

  Dovie’s heart dropped. They hadn’t been detached, but he still wanted it? After that illusion? “I, uh, I hadn’t realized that was happening tonight.” People were talking all around her, but she focused completely on Brooks.

  “Well Torren doesn’t—”

  “How could he not after that show!” Dovie cut the guy off. An ache claimed her chest, probing into the deepest, darkest parts of her insecurity. They were all sending her mixed signals. She had thought he would talk it out with her. But she was wrong. He was going to go through with the detachment. Why was she doing this to herself then? She could take a hint. If he really was that set on getting rid of her, then she’d let go. If being with her wouldn't make him happy, then perhaps figuring it out now before she made a complete fool of herself was for the best.

  “Look, I can’t say one way or the other but—”

  “Don’t worry about it, Brooks. You don’t have to explain anything to me.” She smoothed down her hair, wiped her eyes, and masked her dashed hopes. “I understand. Do I have to be there to be detached?” Her heart thundered in her chest. She didn't know if she could keep it together if she had to look at him while getting detached.

  Brooks looked at her for a moment before responding, “I guess we could work around it. Is there some place you need to be?”

  “Yes. Home.” She willed the pain to dim and anger to take over. Anger at herself for wanting something more when this entire time Torren had been very clear about what he wanted.

  “Give me a strand of your hair. But I want you to know that it will hurt until the detachment is completed. You are going to feel pain every second you are away from him. Are you sure you want to go home?”

  Dovie reached up into her hair and pulled out a few strands. She looked down at them, knowing everything would change by the end of the night. “I’m sure.” She handed him her hair. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to leave.”

  .

  Chapter Nineteen

  DOVIE MOANED AS pain lanced through her stomach. Her hair was soaked in sweat and water. Bex held a cool washcloth to Dovie’s head. But it barely registered when it felt like someone was slicing up her insides.

  “I can’t stand to see you like this. What the hell is taking them so long? Shouldn’t they have fixed this already? You’ve been home for more than two hours.” Concern laced her best friend’s voice.

  “It’s okay.” Dovie opened her eyes as the pain subsided a little. Bex’s face was pinched in anger and concern. Only Bex could pull off that look and still be pretty. “I knew it would be something like this. Magic takes time, I’m sure. Especially removing two people from being attached.” Brooks had said that magic had chosen them to be together. Who knew how much trouble it was to remove it from one person, let alone two?

  “He shouldn’t have done this to you in the first damn place, D.” Bex brushed strands of Dovie’s hair back from her face.

  “He didn’t. Don’t blame him for what their magic has done. It wasn’t like he chose me.” Which was part of what hurt so freaking much. Pain lashed through her again and Dovie’s back arched as searing heat followed the sharp stabbing. How much longer would this last before she couldn’t take it anymore? Had something with the detachment gone wrong? Her thoughts jumbled as her muscles spasmed. Her stomach roiled, threatening to vomit, and Dovie curled into herself trying to relieve some of the horrible ache pounding at her body.

  “I’m giving it five more minutes and then I’m going to call up there. Brooks has to be in the phone book. I’ll give him a piece of my damned mind. I’ll give all of them a piece!”

  The pain slowly ebbed again, falling away. Dovie’s muscles loosened and she took several deep breaths. “How about a drink of water?” Dovie tried to smile. Be
x was upset, but calling Brooks wouldn’t make this go any faster. “I could have stayed up there. This isn’t his fault. If I had stayed, I wouldn’t be in this kind of pain. This is my fault, not the dragons’.” Though it made her feel good her friend wanted to take vengeance, the urge was misplaced. But that’s what best friends were for.

  Bex grabbed the glass of water sitting on the coffee table and helped Dovie take a small drink. The couch wasn’t super comfortable, but getting to her room was a huge problem when she’d been in pain all the way home already, and crawling across her living room had seemed like a monumental task. The driver Brooks had sent down with her had helped Dovie into her home and brought in her bags. Dovie had called Bex, because who else would be supportive and overprotective? Bex didn’t judge her decisions. Within minutes her friend had walked through the door and set to helping with cool water.

  “That doesn’t mean I have to like it or that I can’t blame Torren.” Bex crossed her arms in a pout.

  Dovie laughed but abruptly stopped when her stomach muscles protested. After so many spasms and so much pain, the muscles were saying no to nearly anything she did, including small movements.

  “Don’t you have some over-the-counter pain relievers somewhere? I searched your bathroom but didn’t find any.” Bex looked around the living room.

  “It isn’t going to help this kind of pain. It’s magic induced. I can’t imagine a human medication would even touch it.” Dovie brushed tears from her cheeks.

  “What else can I do?” Hopelessness filled her voice.

  The pain dimmed more and her head cleared a bit. “It’s okay. I think they have it fixed.” She slowly sat up. The pain in her body dulled to a small ache, mostly muscle related. She took a deep breath and waited a few seconds to see if the pain would lash out, but it didn’t. Tears streamed down her face again. A different kind of pain flitted to the surface.