Fate of Dragons

by Olivia Ash

  She fires another dart at me, and this time it grazes my shoulder. It scratches through the fabric of my shirt, but the needle breaks off, a bit of it embedded in my skin.

  For a moment, a rush of wooziness burns through me. The world briefly spins. I stagger, but I push through the disorienting haze.

  She’s not going to win that easily.

  I rip the half-submerged needle out of my arm as she charges, trying to recover with time enough to fire, but I lift my gun a second too late.

  She hits my elbow hard, and I groan in pain as the gun is knocked from my hand. Fist raised, she aims for my temple. I block, spinning, and kick her hard in the gut. She doubles over, and I take my opening to knee her in the face.

  Zurie falls on her back, blood streaming from her nose, but she’s only down for a moment. In seconds, she jumps onto her feet, wiping the blood from her mouth in a fluid motion.

  “You’re faster with that magic,” she mutters approvingly. “Impressive. Too bad you can’t keep it.”

  She raises her gun again and fires—but I’m through playing games.

  Fast as lightning, I reach into the depths of my soul, deep into the core where my magic burns hot, and summon my incredible power.

  I lift my hands, my fingers surging with heat, and fire a blast of brilliant white light at the woman who spent half of her life training me.

  The magic burns the tranquilizer dart to ash, dissolving it into dust as it tears through the air. The white light sails toward Zurie, and I have to confess, part of me wants it to hit her. Part of me wants my magic to end this, to destroy her, to know once and for all I’m safe.

  But I never will be. Even if Zurie dies, Diesel will just take over—and he’s worse than Zurie could ever be.

  And if Irena really betrayed us, well—

  No. I can’t think about that now.

  Zurie dives out of the way with seconds to spare, hitting the ground hard as the brilliant white light shatters a tree. The massive trunk groans as it topples, splintering, the branches crashing through the canopy as whatever remains of the giant oak falls to the ground beside us.

  My former mentor gapes at the tree, but only for a moment. She turns her head toward me, gritting her teeth, practically fuming.

  I don’t give her the opportunity to speak.

  “I’m giving you one chance, Zurie,” I say, seething. “Call a truce. Leave me be and call off the others. I will never come back to you. I will never be your obedient little assassin ever again. If you come for me—if you back me into a corner like this even one more time, you will die. And if you ever dare to touch one of my men, I will end you. It will be war. We will hunt each other until one of us is dead.”

  Slowly, Zurie stands. She watches me with chilly detachment, the way I’ve seen her survey warzones before. Studying. Dissecting. Analyzing.

  Like I’ve done so many times before, she’s weighing her options.

  “You damn traitor!” Jace yells, his voice echoing off the forest. “I knew it, Tucker! I’ll kill you!”

  My chest tightens, and I can’t help myself. I look over my shoulder, careful to keep my former mentor in my periphery.

  In the meadow, Tucker is shoved onto his knees, his arms held behind his back by three of Jace’s soldiers. He struggles against them, twisting in their grasp, but he’s vastly outnumbered. There’s nothing he can do. They glare down at him, one of them pushing his head toward Jace’s boots.

  And, to my horror, Jace aims a gun at Tucker’s head.

  “No,” I say breathlessly.

  I have to stop this.

  But if I let Zurie go—

  “I’ll consider your offer, Rory,” Zurie says with a wry grin. She darts off into the forest, not waiting for me to reply.

  I’ve heard that before. It’s what she tells the difficult Spectres and Knights when they give her a ridiculous offer. It’s what she says when she wants to string someone along, dangling a carrot in their face just long enough for them to comply—so that she can shoot them in the back when they’re no longer useful.

  It’s a no.

  I swallow hard, torn between saving Tucker and letting my greatest enemy leave.

  Jace cocks the gun.

  Damn it.

  I bolt into the field, letting Zurie slip into the night. Jace might have just cost me everything.

  “Stop!” I shout, my chest tightening as I race toward him. “Don’t you dare!”

  Jace tilts his body just enough to see me, never lifting his gun, moments from sending a bullet through Tucker’s brain.

  Tucker manages to peek up from between two locks of his hair, his face twisted in anger and rage.

  “He’s a Knight, Rory!” Jace shouts. “A Knight. I knew there was something wrong with him.” The Grand Master sets his finger on the trigger. “And I don’t allow traitors to live.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “I know!” I yell, skidding to a stop between Tucker and Jace. “I know, all right? I’ve known he’s a Knight.”

  The moment I step between the two men, Jace instinctively turns the gun away from me. It’s almost like he doesn’t even realize he did it—but it now points to the ground.

  I am not, however, in the clear.

  Jace watches me with cold fury. He’s still as a stone, body rigid and tense, and I wonder what’s going through his head right now.

  “You knew?” he says, his voice dangerous and dark.

  The full force of his intense gaze bores into me, as chilling and startling as any warning glare Zurie ever gave me—it’s strikingly similar to the expression she would don just before punching me in the gut, breaking a bone, or knocking me down when she felt I had underperformed on a mission.

  It makes my blood run cold.

  For the first time, I see Jace as the world sees him. Fierce. Ferocious. Imposing. Inches away from murder.

  This is what it’s like to face the Grand Master’s wrath—and I can’t say I enjoy it.

  Drew darts out of the forest, about fifty feet away. The movement catches my attention, though Jace doesn’t so much as flinch. Drew’s eyes lock momentarily with mine, and for a second, he seems to pause to take in the scene.

  But then his gaze drifts to the gun so close to my leg.

  That sets him off.

  His brow furrows with anger. With hate. It’s like something in him snaps, something fierce and protective. His eyes get sharp and cold. Without so much as a word of warning, he lifts his gun and aims at Jace’s chest.

  It’s not a good move.

  Ten of the soldiers around us swarm him, trying desperately to restrain the muscled shifter.

  But Drew is a tank. A man of muscle and strength, someone who doesn’t go down easy.

  He elbows one soldier in the face, and two more replace the one he knocked out. Another knocks the gun from his hand, only to get a fist to the jaw.

  Five more soldiers rush to help their comrades.

  One by one, blow after blow, they eventually manage to subdue the fire dragon—but at a price. Four of them lay unconscious around him, and it takes eight soldiers with enhanced dragon strength to wrangle him in.

  He drops to his knees, four hands pushing his head down even as he manages to glare at Jace with all the hatred and fire of a sun.

  I could have used this distraction to take Jace’s weapon. I could have taken out the soldiers holding Tucker hostage and run, but it would mean no redemption—for him or for me. It would mean abandoning Levi and Drew.

  I won’t do it, no matter how soft that makes me.

  The dojo master tilts his head only slightly, like a hunter focusing on its prey, and looks at one of the soldiers holding Tucker hostage. “Back up. Out of earshot.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The soldiers nod in unison and drag Tucker backward. The weapons expert tries to stand, but they don’t give him the chance. The three soldiers holding him drag him mercilessly across the grass, his heels digging into the dirt as he wrestles
in their grip.

  “Jace, there’s more to this than meets the eye,” I say softly.

  He takes a step toward me, and the cold clink of the gun in his hand is a sharp reminder of how close Tucker just came to a quick and bloody death. The barrel is still aimed toward the ground as the thunderbird shifter leans toward me. “How long have you known?”

  I meet his gaze, unwilling to so much as flinch. I will not show weakness, not with so much at stake.

  But the time for guarding Tucker’s secret is over, and I have to share at least some of the truth.

  “Shortly before the attack on the Vaer,” I admit.

  “Damn it, Rory.” Jace shakes his head, the hard lines of his jaw tensing as he briefly looks off into the forest. I can imagine how many bodies are littered along the floor of the woods, and I suspect he took out most of them.

  “I tailed him into the forest and out of your territory,” I continue. “I saw him meet with Knights. Saw him give an update.”

  “On what?” Jace’s voice has a menacing growl to it.

  “Me.”

  Jace glares over my shoulder, in Tucker’s direction, and I hear the creak of skin over the metal gun in his hand as he tightens his grip.

  He could still shoot.

  “Out there, in the forest, I was going to kill him,” I say simply. “I was about to kill all of them.”

  That, at least, catches Jace’s attention. “And why didn’t you?” He gives me a brief once over, a hint of disgust in his voice. “Is he that good in bed?”

  I grit my teeth at his tone, resisting the impulse to punch him in the throat. “Shove your jealousy up your ass for two seconds and listen, Jace.”

  “Listening,” he snaps, narrowing his eyes.

  “He lied to them.” I nod toward Tucker. “Even though he didn’t know I was there, he gave them a false report. He covered for me and has done so for most of the time I’ve known him. They have so much false information, they won’t ever know what’s true and what isn’t. All thanks to him.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Why the fuck would I lie?” I resist the impulse to shake him by his collar, but only barely. “I held a knife to his throat, ready to end him if he didn’t tell me the truth. I don’t suffer traitors either, Jace.”

  We glare at each other, the minutes creeping by, each daring the other to show weakness. To cave.

  Neither of us do.

  Jace leans in, our noses almost touching, but there’s nothing romantic about this. His warm breath rolls over me, and for a moment, we both seem capable of suppressing the overwhelming mate-bond that clouds our judgment most of the time.

  “Rory, you betrayed me.” His voice is quiet. Tense. Wounded. “Not only did you bring a feral dragon into my home, but you brought a Knight. And, somehow, also thanks to you, I’ve had to play host to the shifter I hate most in this world.”

  We both briefly look at Drew, who’s massive biceps bulge against his sleeves as he wrestles with the grip of the remaining soldiers barely holding him at bay. Beside him, one of those he knocked unconscious groggily begins to stir.

  Jace grabs my chin, and I expect it to be rough—but it’s not.

  Gently, he tilts my head until I can’t help but look at him. “I’ve never trusted any of the men you brought here,” he says quietly. “Least of all Tucker, and I was right to think he was up to something. I was right to assume he’s no good. But the most painful part of all of this? The worst part?” He pauses, jaw tensing as his eyes rove over my face. “The worst part is that now I don’t even know if I can trust you.”

  I won’t lie. As much as I don’t want to care what he says, that stings.

  “You know why I lied?” I gesture toward the field, covered as it is with soldiers and hostages. “This. This is why. I knew you would act like this.” I want to knock some sense through that thick skull of his, but I somehow manage to refrain. “I knew you would try to kill him, no matter what I said.”

  That’s not the whole truth, but it will have to do for the moment so that I can make my point.

  “You’re overreacting,” I add, rather curtly. “Just like I knew you would.”

  He laughs humorlessly. “I’m over—Gods, Rory, you have got to be kidding.”

  “I’m entirely serious.” I point at Tucker, keeping my voice low despite the urgency in my tone. “In the Vaer stronghold, he took out dozens of shifters on the catwalks to ensure you didn’t die.” I square my shoulders, ready to knock Jace off his high horse. “He continues to meet with the Knights to lie to them and feed them the sort of misinformation that leaves them scrambling for a new plan each time. He alone is the reason we haven’t had a Knights attack on the embassy since I arrived—they’re waiting on intel from him, and he continues to lie. For you. For me. To keep us all safe.”

  “He’s one of them,” Jace says with a sneer. “How can you possibly trust anything he says?”

  “I trust him more than I trust you,” I admit.

  It’s the sort of honesty that claws its way out of you when you don’t want it to—the truth, yes, but phrased in a hurtful way far harsher than you intended. And, of course, at the absolute worst time.

  Jace grabs my arm, his tight grip on my bicep almost painful, but I don’t flinch. He pulls me close, his hard chest pressing against my body, that disappointed scowl almost burning into my soul as he stares down at me.

  I can tell that hurt him. Deeply. It was the kind of comment that leaves a lasting wound, all without blows ever being exchanged.

  But it’s the truth—and it doesn’t have to be.

  “He doesn’t try to lock me away,” I point out. “He doesn’t withhold information from me or outright lie, all in some misguided attempt to keep me safe.” I give Jace the same disgusted once-over he gave me not long ago. “He’s a brilliant fighter and a loyal asset to this team, and you would be an absolute fool to kill him after all he’s sacrificed to be here.”

  “No, I would be a fool to let a Knight live,” Jace says menacingly. “Especially the General’s son.”

  Ah, shit.

  He knows.

  “That’s right.” Jace nods, apparently seeing something in my expression I didn’t mean to give away. “Yet another secret you’ve kept from me. You knew that, too.”

  “Can you blame me?” Though he still has one arm pinned to my side, I gesture toward the field with my free hand. “Look at this. I knew you wouldn’t react well. There was no way for me to tell you. Absolutely none at all.”

  “I’m keeping my people safe,” Jace sneers, not really acknowledging my point. “I’m keeping you safe, whether you like it or not. This is what it takes to lead.”

  “Safe from what?”

  “From organizations that are actively trying to kill us!”

  “You accepted me,” I point out, locking eyes with him. “You know what I am. What I was trained to be. You pretend to forget about it every time you talk about keeping me safe, but in the back of your mind, you know exactly what I can do. Who I can break.” I take a step toward him, chin lifted in defiance. “Do you know how many dragons I’ve killed, Jace?”

  His mouth settles into a grim line, and it’s clear he neither knows nor wants to know.

  “I’m not proud of any of it, and neither is he.” I briefly nod toward Tucker. “He was forced into this life, just like me. Neither of us wanted any part of these organizations. Neither of us wanted to kill. And neither of us had any damn choice in the matter.”

  Jace’s grip tightens on my arm, but he doesn’t say anything.

  That’s a good sign.

  It means he’s listening. Processing. Considering what I have to say.

  It also means I might still be able to salvage this.

  “He and I had the same childhood,” I add quietly. “We faced the same dilemmas. We had the same terrible, impossible choices to make.” I poke Jace roughly to make my point, my fingertip pressing against the hard muscle of his abs. “If you k
ill Tucker, you might as well kill me.”

  “Don’t say that,” Jace says softly, shaking his head. “Damn it, don’t...”

  Begrudgingly, he lets me go. He takes a step backward, never finishing his thought. He runs his hand through his hair, the other still holding the gun, and turns his back on all of us.

  As he sets his free hand on his hip, I hear a rough and shaky sigh escape him. He stares up at the moon, seemingly debating his options.

  I’m tempted to get on my soapbox and lecture him, but I’ve said enough. Anything more would be overkill, and probably of the unhelpful variety. I tense my jaw, suppressing the urge to speak, forcing myself to wait.

  It’s agonizing.

  “Let the asshole go,” Jace commands, his voice carrying through the field.

  Behind me, I hear the grunt of Drew shaking someone off of him. I almost laugh that the soldiers knew exactly who Jace was talking about, but there’s still too much at stake to relax.

  As I turn my head, Drew runs toward me, his intense glare focused on Jace.

  “Are you all right?” the fire dragon asks quietly as he nears, stopping beside me. His voice is dark and low, like he wants nothing more than to tear Jace a new asshole and just wants any excuse to go do it.

  “I’m fine,” I say curtly, returning my attention to the Grand Master.

  We’re not out of trouble yet.

  Jace pivots on his heel, his gaze skipping over me as he points at a few of the nearest soldiers. “You eight, get Levi to the medic ward. Patch him up but keep him sedated until he heals completely. He might lash out if he wakes up too suddenly.”

  I frown, not loving that option. “Jace—”

  “Don’t.” He holds a finger toward me, squeezing his eyes shut, like he doesn’t want to hear my voice right now.

  Since Tucker’s life still hangs in the balance, I comply and snap my mouth closed.

  It’s just a bit of sedation—Levi will be okay.

  Jace sighs, rubbing his jaw, and finally shoves his pistol into the holster at his waist. “I will grant a very fragile, very temporary pardon to the Knight,” Jace says through gritted teeth. “Get him on his feet.”