by Amelia Jade
Fingers stroked her head, distracting her.
“Stoen,” she whispered. “You don’t need to do this,” she pleaded.
“I do,” he told her. “You know that. I can’t let them kill any more innocent humans. Or defile any more graves.”
“But Santis is so strong,” she countered.
“It’ll be okay.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back.”
“Please stay. I…” she looked away.
“You what?” he asked softly.
This was it. She could tell him, right now, how she felt. That she didn’t want him to go because she needed him to stay around. To be a part of her life. That despite the ridiculous start to their relationship, she did care for him. A lot. There was nothing more she wanted to do than to spill her guts to him, in case she never got the chance.
It wouldn’t be fair, though, not to Stoen. He needed to go into battle focused and ready to kick some ass. Not concerned with their relationship. This wasn’t the time to put that burden on him, to ask him to listen to her. They had to focus on the prisoners up in the mountain, on getting them out. That had to be their priority. His priority. Not her.
“I want you to kick his ass,” she snarled. “Free the prisoners. Then you get your ass back here, understand?”
Stoen grinned. “Yes, ma’am. On it.”
Teddy spoke up now that their course of action was decided upon. “There’s a turnoff about three miles up the road on the left. It’s not marked and they did their best to keep it hidden, so keep your eyes peeled. If you take that, it’ll go all the way in. There’s a guardhouse tucked away not too far in.”
“Anyone else up there that I should worry about?” Stoen’s eyes were focused up the path between mountains, but she could tell he was listening.
“A few more wolves left there to keep the guards from leaving, but no, they took everyone away to come after you as far as I’m aware.” Teddy groaned and swayed slightly. “I have to sit.” He disappeared back into the car.
That left the two of them outside the car. There was a shuffle of noise and she looked around Stoen. Correll was standing there, looking everywhere but at the two of them. She’d forgotten all about him.
Stoen fixed the other dragon shifter with a look.
“I’ll, uh, I’ll get the truck turned around,” Correll said awkwardly, jogging past them to the truck Martin had come in. He fired it up and faced it uphill.
Now it was just the two of them, she thought, closing the car door with her hip.
“You did a lot of damage to that thing,” he observed, pointing at the crumpled hood.
“You’re welcome.”
“Thank you,” he said, then his arms wrapped around her.
Rose let him swallow her up, resting her head on one of the few spots that didn’t have any bloodstains. She held on tight, not wanting to ever let go of him. Not even to let him leave.
Just tell him. Tell him how you feel. Do it before he goes, you wuss.
But Stoen beat her to the punch. “Rose, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Stoen
Just do it, you wimp. Tell her the truth!
It was now or possibly never. There was a good chance he wasn’t going to come back from this fight, and Stoen didn’t want to keep what he was feeling to himself, just in case. He wanted to tell her everything, to lay his heart bare for her, but he hesitated.
Was that fair to Rose? To put such a burden upon her, in the event that he went up the mountain and was dead in an hour? She would have to live with that for the rest of her life. Wouldn’t it be easier if he didn’t tell her, so that she could live easier, could move on from him and be happy with someone else? That was what he wanted after all, for Rose to be happy. Preferably with him of course, but it didn’t really matter if he was dead.
No, telling her was the right thing.
“Yes, Stoen?”
“I really did not go about this the right way,” he said, the words coming slowly, haltingly, and without the confidence he was used to. But they came from a good place, and that counted more than any bravado he could impart. “All I wanted was for you to be happy and safe, and I thought I could provide that. I did whatever I thought was right, and I did it without thinking about you. I was basically trying to control you, and I’m sorry.”
Recognizing that he wasn’t finished, Rose just nodded, her eyes focused on him.
“The proposal, having someone follow you around. That was just ridiculous. I just want you to know that I realize that now. I should have let you make your own choices. Hopefully they include me, but I learned that just because fate put us together doesn’t mean that fate will ensure we stay together. Only our actions will see to that.”
“Oh, Stoen. You big idiot.”
“I love you, Rose,” his was voice whisper-quiet, barely audible even for him. He braced himself, well aware he could have just sent things into a nosedive for a third time.
She didn’t immediately respond.
“I won’t stop loving you,” he added, rushing on, fear compounding his already-agitated self. “But I completely understand if you aren’t ready, or never will be ready, to love me in return. I get that, I understand it. I can’t wait for an answer though. I have to go. I have to stop Santis before he kills anyone else. I’m sorry.”
He kissed her on the forehead and without looking back ran toward the truck. Correll had it in gear and already moving, not wasting any time. They’d already wasted too much with his little sendoff to his mate, but Stoen had needed to say something.
“Everything okay back there?” Correll asked as the truck shook.
Stoen hauled himself into the bed and up toward the front, awkwardly sliding through the small hatch and into the passenger seat. “Just drive,” he said, staring straight ahead. “Let’s finish this.”
“Did she say no?”
Glaring at his cousin for a moment, he tried to work up a rage, but it failed. Instead Stoen found himself looking out the side window. “How do you know what I told her?”
“Seriously? Listen, I realize I’m young for a dragon, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I know what was going on back there. You were telling her how you felt before we went into battle against Santis. It was obvious enough. Don’t treat me like that, okay?”
He sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Correll. You’re right; that’s what happened. And to answer your question, she didn’t say anything.”
“Nothing? At all?”
“No.”
“How long did you give her? I can’t believe she wouldn’t say anything.”
Stoen thought back over it, cringing as he realized he had an answer. “Like, three seconds.”
Correll made a strangled-sounding noise as he tried to respond.
“I know,” he snapped. “I panicked, okay? I’ve screwed things up with her enough. I didn’t want to do it again. I just…I just wanted her to know how I felt. She can take some time to think about how she feels. It’s complicated.”
“Did you tell her about how you had me stalk her?”
“You weren’t stalking her,” he snapped. “And no, I didn’t tell her.”
“Stoen, you need to—”
“She found out on her own.”
“Ooooooooh. That’s not good. I bet she was pissed.”
“Understatement,” he agreed grumpily, resting his chin on his hand. “Are we there yet? I’ve suddenly developed a very large desire to kill something.”
Correll slowed the truck. “Does that look like an attempt at a fairly hidden turnoff to you?” he asked, pointing to the left.
Stoen leaned over, eyeing the barely visible track through the forest. “I’d say so. Take it.”
His cousin wheeled the truck around and onto the road.
“Now,” Stoen said quietly. “Bring me Santis.”
It was time to end this.
; Chapter Twenty-Three
Stoen
They burst through the guard gate without slowing down. Both dragons leaned out the window as the gate itself exploded under impact. Streams of quicksilver shot from their hands, coating the booths on either side instantly, trapping the wolves within and killing them. It was a brutally cold way of eliminating their enemies, but Stoen was done playing games. It was all about efficiency from here on out.
Eventually the “road,” if it could even be called that, widened out into a gathering area. Several portable offices on trailers occupied the left side, while half a dozen more trucks like the one they were in sat parked in a row to the right. A few figures moved here and there, some looking in much better condition than the others.
Jumping from the truck before it even came to a halt, Stoen attacked. Circular blades of quicksilver flashed across the open space, taking down the trio of guards he’d spotted as fast as he could throw them. A moment later Correll hopped out as well, the big engine coughing and descending into silence.
All around them there wasn’t a sound to be heard. Even the prisoners he’d seen had disappeared somewhere.
“SANTIS!” he bellowed, stepping out into the open. “I know you’re here, you coward!”
“What the hell are you doing?”
“He’s not stupid, Correll. He’ll know we’re here. He’s coming for us. I’m just not interested in wasting any more time. Enough people have been hurt by his arrogance and greed. No more. It ends today.”
A shadow soared overhead. Craning his head skyward, Stoen watched as the giant silver dragon that it belonged to came in for a landing on a ridge north of the open space.
“Hello, Stoen. Glad to see you again.” The dragon spoke in the smooth, melodic voice that sounded just like Santis, and yet so incredibly different as well.
“Enough, Santis. Let them go. It’s over.”
The huge dragon shook with laughter. “You can’t be serious? You couldn’t stop me on your own even if you weren’t already hurt. Do you think that bringing a child to a man’s fight is truly going to change your odds?”
Correll stepped forward, bristling at the insult. Stoen put out an arm, keeping him closer for the time being.
“The word has gone out, Santis. They’ll find you now, and they’ll kill you. Coltaine will do it himself if he must.”
“That puffed-up princess?” Santis laughed once more. “He won’t act against me. Not without evidence and his precious trials as well.”
Stoen had thought perhaps the Magistrate was losing his edge, that he’d lost his mind and that’s where the mad scheme had come from. There was none of that evident in the bulky dragon’s manner to indicate that so far. Unfortunate; it’d be so much easier if there were.
It just meant that Santis was going to be all that much more dangerous. The pair of them were going to be in tough against him. Still, it could be done. A bit of luck, a bold plan, and they could make it happen.
Now if I just had a bold plan…
“One chance, Stoen. That’s all I’m going to give you. Turn around, leave here. Destroy the pictures. If you do that, I’ll let you and your mate live. If you don’t, I’m going to make you watch as I kill her, her brother, and this youngling as well, one by one, while you lie there helpless.” Santis didn’t laugh this time. He spoke in cool tones. It was a statement, not a vicious threat, and it scared Stoen all the more because of it.
“No. You’ve defiled enough graves of our ancestors. It’s time you pay for your crimes.” He dropped into a combat pose, Correll following suit.
Santis sighed. “Very well,” he said airily, and the dragon leapt from the ridge.
Bracing himself, Stoen readied an attack. If the dragon kept coming at him like that, a piercing blow would go a long way to evening the sides.
The enemy dragon didn’t oblige him. Midair it swirled slightly as he shifted back to his human form. Santis landed on one knee twenty feet in front of them, slamming a fist into the ground as he did.
A shockwave of quicksilver lashed out and flung both Stoen and Correll backward on either sides of the truck, obscuring their view. Stoen flexed his shoulders and wings sprouted from them, flapping heavily to first bring him to a half, and then shoot him forward as he dove in at Santis.
A sword flashed up at him as he came, but Stoen tucked his wings in tight, dropping below the attack and coming up to catch the return strike on a staff that he’d formed as he dropped. The six-foot-long weapon whirled and struck, but everywhere it was, so was Santis’s sword.
The two battled back and forth, neither gaining the upper hand. Santis drew first blood with a strike that Stoen didn’t quite avoid, opening a three-inch gash on his upper arm. Two flurries later Stoen struck back, ducking under a strike and slamming the butt end of his staff into Santis’s inner leg.
He rushed in to try and exploit the attack, but Santis closed off the avenue immediately with a blurring display of swordsmanship that sent chips of quicksilver flying as Stoen tried desperately just to stay alive. Somehow he parried every strike until Correll entered the fray, having at last recovered.
Now Santis was constantly pushed back. Most of his attention was on Stoen, but he couldn’t ignore Correll’s shortsword. Either one could be deadly if left unattended, but Stoen struck harder and faster while Correll reeled under every blow he absorbed on his shield.
Stoen saw an opening and planted his foot to drive forward. The grin forming on his face at the sight of a final stroke was replaced by shock as the ground betrayed him, turning his ankle as the rock he’d partially stepped on rolled away. He fell, unable to avoid a well-timed knee from Santis, which rocked him back twenty feet across the ground, scraping his back open like a cheese grater.
“Ow,” he wheezed, rolling to get to his feet.
Without Stoen around their foe was able to focus entirely on Correll. The young dragon performed admirably, nearly holding his own. Santis came on inexorably though, and Stoen knew he’d never reach him in time, trying to recover his wits after the knee to his chest.
Hauling back, he hurled a dart at Santis, trying to distract him, but the older shifter slapped it away contemptuously before resuming his attack on Correll. Getting to his feet Stoen summoned a new staff, the older one having been flung away. Quicksilver congealed and hardened in his hands as he charged back into battle.
“You’re too late!” Santis shouted, batting aside Correll’s shield as he held the sword at bay with his other arm.
“NO!” Stoen bellowed, flinging himself at Santis.
The sword stabbed downward. Correll screamed and fell backward, blood spurting from his chest and mouth.
Stoen tackled his enemy, punching and kicking him. His fists grew spikes, ripping open Santis’s face as he hit him again and again.
A punch like a jackhammer slammed into his stomach and Stoen was airborne, nearly straight up. He hauled back his arm as he fell and punched straight down. As he did quicksilver flowed down his arm, lengthening it into a glittering spear. He drove it down with a snarl and Santis’s grin disappeared as the point pierced his chest.
His arm came up and backhanded Stoen to the side, snapping the spear off at his knuckles. It still impaled him to the ground, but he just stood up and ripped it out with his bare hands, ignoring the damage.
Stoen was already back up and charging at him. He ducked as he came in, left-right-right-left, dodging under the blows and coming up behind Santis. Fury infused his limbs as he thought of Correll, of his cousin. The young shifter had known he was heavily outmatched, but he’d come along anyway without hesitation. And now he’d paid the ultimate price.
Arms like hardened steel wrapped around Santis’s neck and squeezed. There was no time for taunting, no last words. He just needed to kill Santis and end it. Fingers locked on to his arms. They gripped harder than anything he could remember. Struggle though he did, Santis slowly pried his grip apart until he could duck
under them.
Santis only released one wrist as he spun, using the other to pull Stoen in close where he delivered a brutal knee to his midsection, dropping him to the ground.
“I’ve had enough of you,” the bigger dragon said, adjusting his clothes. “You’re going to go meet your cousin, and then I’ll be rid of both of you. It’s a shame you had to kill Martin; he was such a useful right hand, but there will be more. There will always be more,” he chuckled.
“Not this time,” Stoen gasped, kicking upward. The flat of his boot hit Santis in the stomach, sending him stumbling backward…
…Onto Correll’s upraised sword. The stubby weapon pierced Santis’s chest from behind, exploding out the front in a shower of blood and gore.
Getting to his feet, ignoring the pain all over his body, Stoen staggered forward. Swords weren’t his choice of weapon, but he called for one now. The greatsword built between his hands, the massive weapon needing both hands to be wielded.
Santis tried to protest, but he was too weak. Feebly he raised his hands to try and block the assault. Stoen cut through them and his neck. The lifeless corpse dropped to the ground, barely beating Stoen as he fell to one knee.
“Correll!” he shouted, pulling himself to his cousin’s side.
“Hurts,” his cousin said, blood bubbling in his mouth. “Hurts a lot. But I’ll be okay.” He smiled and lay back with a heavy but happy sigh. “We did it, didn’t we?”
“We did,” Stoen assured him. “We got him.”
“Good.” Correll’s eyes rolled back into his sockets and he passed out.
Stoen panicked for a second, but he saw his cousin’s chest rise and fall after a moment, in a slow but constant breathing. Risking a peek he saw that the wound was indeed beginning to heal. Correll would be laid up for a while, but it appeared he was right. He would be okay.
Stoen lay down on the ground next to him, all the pain and exhaustion of the day settling in. Maybe a nap was just what he needed. Just a short one though, not too long. There was somewhere he needed to be.
