Saberthorn (A Paranormal/Fantasy Dragonshifter Romance): Dragonkind ~ 52 Realms

by Sheri-Lynn Marean

  Fen’s shoulders drooped in defeat as he lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

  Saber sighed. “It’s fine, as long as you learn from your mistakes.”

  “I won’t let you down again,” Fen said quietly.

  Saber mussed the youth’s hair. “I know you won’t. Anyway, we all mess up at some point or other.”

  Fen snorted in disbelief. “Not you or Adarias.”

  “Yes. Especially me and Adarias.”

  “But you are Thorns.”

  “We are.” Saber stood and helped the Predrac to his feet.

  “I don’t believe it.” Fen stared at him with surprise.

  Saber gave him a little smile. “Believe it. It’s true. Even Thorns make mistakes. Now, you need to get back inside the inner ward before your mother notices you gone and starts to panic.”

  “Yes, sir.” Fen looked up at him. “And thank you. I’ll make you proud of me.” Then with a lighter step, he hurried back toward the village.

  Chapter Two

  Found, and Lost

  Saber watched Fen until he was out of sight, then knowing the Predrac’s life wouldn’t be easy, he made his way through the outer ward. No Supe’s life was easy, but for all of dragonkind, or their offspring—the Dracones—it was even harder. Soul tormented, Saber barely noticed as the chittering night critters grew quiet. They sensed the beast within him.

  Certain that he stood alone, other than the creatures of the night, Saber drew on his power and let it consume him, reveling in the feel. Then in a quick shower of sparks, he yanked it in and with a sharp snap, he shifted into his large black-scaled dragon. The backlash of power at such a sudden shift stung hotly, yet sweetly. It felt good. Refreshing. It was something to feel other than rage and heartbreak.

  The white glow under each scale grew even brighter at the depths of his emotions. Emotions that he didn’t even try to contain. An out-of-control wildfire raged inside him. It constantly burned in his soul at the fate of his friends, family, and all dragonkind over the last thousand years.

  Without a backward glance he shot into the sky, seeking the frigid atmosphere high above Tartaria. Once he gained the altitude needed, Saber leveled out, stretched his wings wide and flew.

  He flew fast and far in an attempt to rid himself of his restlessness. Yet nothing could. Finally, he just glided, the light of Tartaria’s two moons reflecting off his midnight scales. Above him, millions of tiny stars twinkled.

  Saber felt the heavy pit inside him growing deeper. Would he ever find peace? A mate would bring peace. For the first few hundred years of his life, Saber had been hopeful of finding his mate. After over a thousand years, he had begun to lose hope, and now he knew it would never happen for him.

  Lost in thought, it took a moment to register that he was no longer alone. Saber craned his head around. A shadow to the side and just above, blocked out the stars.

  “I know you are there. Why are you following me?” he asked telepathically.

  With a vibration of deadly magic, the dragon beside him shimmered and then appeared in full view. Black as midnight and bigger than Saber, Adariasthorn had liquid fire burning beneath his scales. Just like their father had.

  “Needed to fly,” his brother said.

  Saber snorted and shot a stream of dragonfire up at Adarias. “Right. And it has nothing to do with keeping an eye on me.”

  Adarias returned the fire with a blast of his own but Saber dipped, ducking before his wing could be singed.

  “So cynical. I told you, I just needed to soar on the wind.”

  Saber knew better. After losing so many family members, his brother had gotten a little overprotective. Though, if truth be told, Saber didn’t really mind. Well, other than when he desired solitude and his brother insisted on babysitting his ass.

  Still, one day not far in the future, he’d need Adarias. The fact that he’d finally lose his soul—his humanity—weighed on him daily. The loss would end up turning him rogue, just like it did every other male dragon. Saber despaired of that time, terrified he’d harm someone who didn’t deserve it. Yet without a mate, that day was speeding toward him like a shooting star. Thankfully, he still had Adarias. There wasn’t anyone more powerful. It was a burden Saber hated to put on his brother, though he had little choice in the matter. Adarias was the only one capable of putting him down when the time came.

  Of course, that was providing Adarias didn’t turn rogue before him. If that happened, then it would fall to Saber to take care of his brother. The thought left him feeling unsettled and angry.

  “You’re not happy about Cass and Maya mating?” Adarias asked.

  “Of course I am. Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?” If Saber had been able to glare at his nosy brother, he’d have done so.

  “Well, Cass used to go everywhere with you. I just thought maybe you were missing his company.” Adarias dropped down so they were flying side by side.

  “Hell no. That miserable fuck was driving me crazy until Maya finally accepted his ass. I’m glad he’s mated,” Saber said, though part of him did miss his carousing buddy. Still, that wasn’t the reason he was so melancholy.

  “You’ll find a mate as well. I’m sure of it,” Adarias said. “We all will.”

  Saber didn’t answer because he no longer believed that to be the truth. Yet he still held out hope that Adarias would, and that hope was something he would never take from his brother.

  “If it isn’t Cass, what is it? You’ve been awfully quiet lately. What’s up your prickly ass?” Adarias asked, snapping him from his dreary thoughts.

  He should’ve gone for a drink instead of a night flight. “Nothing but my brother’s scaly snout,” Saber snapped.

  Adarias shot more dragonfire in his direction, though it came nowhere near hitting him. “How about we go get a drink somewhere?”

  “Good idea,” Saber said.

  “We can go to Earth. They have a lot of great places to drink,” Adarias suggested.

  “No, there’s too many Humans there.” Saber never minded the noise and constant press of bodies before, but now he couldn’t stand such large crowds.

  “I heard there’s a new drinking house with live music on Joustal,” Adarias said.

  Saber hesitated. The last thing he wanted to do was go back to Joustal, but he also didn’t want to have to explain to his brother the reason why.

  “Saber?”

  “Sure, the music is good there,” Saber finally said.

  “You’ve been?”

  “Yeah.” It would be fine. Even though the drinking house was near the site of the recent accident, which had killed over fifty beings, he’d be fine.

  It didn’t take them long to arrive at the portal. Adarias did the honor of pricking his hand and smearing a drop of blood on the protruding stone. Almost instantly, magic flared and in a flash of white light, the portal opened.

  In the thick, cloying magic, Saber followed his brother into the silver-and-black tunnel, keeping well away from the glittering silver stalagmites jutting from the walls and ceiling.

  Moments later, they emerged into the lively realm of Joustal. It was night as well, which was good, as Saber didn’t want to see the place in the light of day. Not for a while at least.

  Yet as they made their way through the bustling mining town, Saber couldn’t help but take in the black gaping maw of destruction on his right. A sharp sliver of despair shot straight to his soul.

  “You helped find survivors here that night, didn’t you?” Adarias asked.

  “Yes.” Saber yanked his gaze away and continued down the street to the new drinking house. Thankfully Adarias followed him in silence, but when he pulled the door open and walked in, Saber bit back a groan. “It’s too busy here, we should go elsewhere.”

  Adarias shot him a narrow-eyed stare. “Since when do you care how busy a place is?”

  “I—” Before Saber could answer, the group of shifters who had helped him pull survivors from the wreckage,
spotted him.

  “Saberthorn. It’s good to see you again. Join us,” one of the men called. He resembled an eager puppy, and Saber remembered he was the bloodhound in the group.

  Saber was about to decline when Adarias walked over to the group and introduced himself. “I’m Saber’s brother, Adarias.”

  The dog shifter introduced the others, then waved a server over for a round of ale.

  “I know that woman dying in your arms hit you hard, but how are you doing?” another, whose name Saber couldn’t recall, asked.

  “I’m fine,” Saber answered, and as he thought of the slight female he met for a brief two seconds right before she died, he was torn apart all over again.

  “You sure? You seemed pretty shook up,” another said.

  “I’m good.” Saber took a drink of the blue frothy ale that was handed to him and masked his emotions. Then he shot Adarias a glare, feeling his brother’s assessing gaze on him. “I am. I didn’t even know her.”

  Adarias stared at him a moment longer before he looked at the rest of the group. “Tell me what happened.” Adarias listened solemnly as they regaled him with the details of the horrible accident that brought a whole building down two weeks ago.

  Saber finished his drink and waved the server over. His mind was on the woman he had dug out of the wreckage, only to have her die in his arms. For one fleeting moment, when she’d met his gaze, he’d felt a very slight stirring inside.

  He downed the next three drinks, then Adarias nudged him. “Ready to go?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He tossed some coin on the table and said goodbye to the group.

  “Hey, don’t be a stranger,” one said, and they all agreed.

  Once they were outside, Adarias quietly asked, “Was she your mate?”

  “No, of course not,” Saber replied, though he knew it was a lie. Deep down he had recognized the bond and couldn’t have mistaken it had he wanted. No. Even as weak as the connection had been, likely due to her being a Human or dying, it had still been one he’d never experienced with any other. He’d found and lost his mate all in the span of two minutes. “You ever hear of anyone having two mates?”

  Adarias took a moment before he answered. “No. You?”

  “No,” Saber said as they made their way back to the portal.

  Chapter Three

  Father

  Eight-year-old Tirah sat at the table drawing. She didn’t know what the dark, winged creature was that she drew, but she was constantly compelled to draw it. Sometimes it was on the ground, but mostly it was flying, wings stretched wide as it flew through the clouds.

  When she heard the bedroom door open, Tirah hastily flipped her picture over and covered it with another, knowing her mother wouldn’t want the man called “Father” to see it.

  “I will send someone to collect the girl in a week.” Father—a hard and commanding man—came into view. Tirah swallowed. She knew he was talking about her.

  Tirah’s mother followed him out of the bedroom and tied back her long dark hair as she glanced nervously at Tirah, before looking at Father.

  “No, please, she’s just a child.” Tears brimmed in Ashara’s eyes, and Tirah sat up straighter, wondering what was going on.

  “She will begin her training,” Father replied firmly, and sat down on the bench beside the door to pull on his shiny black boots.

  “Please, you’ve taken everything from me. She and the baby are all I have left.” Her plea landed on deaf ears, and wiping her tears away, Mother reached out and touched Father’s arm. “I thought—”

  “You thought what?” Father’s dark-brown eyes narrowed in such a way that Tirah shivered. The man had never spoken a single word to her, but she had always been able to sense his coldness.

  “I just thought that maybe you’d leave her with me, since you took my boys,” Ashara said in a quiet voice.

  Father’s frigid gaze grew even colder as it landed on Tirah. “You know they are all created to become soldiers. That is the only purpose I have for you.”

  Tirah didn’t know what he was talking about, though Mother’s expression was full of sadness and anger. Father stood. “You and the children are a means to an end, that is all.”

  Ashara moved in front of him. “Then let her meet her brothers. Please? At least she’ll know someone when she moves into the trainee dorms.”

  “She has met her brothers,” Father snapped as he removed his black robe from the hook where it always hung when he came to visit.

  “That was four years ago. She doesn’t remember them. If she knows her brothers, she might not be scared,” her mother begged.

  Father settled the robe over his shoulders. “I really don’t care if she’s scared. The fear will make her tougher, and by the looks of her, she will need to be as tough as possible.” Then Father moved around Ashara and opened the door.

  “If you care for me at all, please?” Ashara cried softly.

  Father grew still, and his eyes narrowed. “Why would you ever think that?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that,” Ashara backtracked.

  Satisfied, Father let out a deep breath. “Never make the mistake of thinking that I care. I don’t. Now, I might grant your request, however.”

  Ashara’s eyes lit up for a moment, but then she quickly lowered her eyes under Father’s gaze. Once satisfied, he cocked his head. “Seeing what their lives would be like if they weren’t soldiers might be good for the boys. I will think on it.” Then ignoring Ashara’s gasp, he left.

  Two days later, Tirah’s brothers were delivered to their door by one of the Ilyium’s soldiers.

  “Remember, don’t tell anyone what you are—ever. It’s our secret, right?” her mother whispered fiercely. Tirah met her worried gaze and nodded. How could she forget? Every time Father was due to visit, or when they went to the slave’s market, she was reminded. When she asked why, her mother always said she’d explain when Tirah was older.

  “You have fifteen minutes,” the soldier said.

  “Thank you,” Ashara responded, but the soldier just walked out of their yard to go wait at the guard shack.

  Ashara smiled at her sons. “Boys, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. I’ve missed you.” Mother pulled the smaller boy into a hug, while the bigger one hung back. Then, when she tried to hug him, he stiffened and pulled away.

  At the sight of Mihel, Tirah’s heart sang with sudden happiness, along with a sick feeling. For the last year, he’d sneaked out of the dorms at night and came to visit her.

  ***

  The first night she had sensed Mihel’s presence out in the yard but hadn’t known who he was. She’d gotten up and peered out the little window in the tiny room she shared with her baby brother, surprised to see a boy staring back at her. Curious, but careful not to wake the baby, or her mother, Tirah eased the window open. “Who are you?”

  The boy stared at her solemnly. “I’m Mihel, your brother.”

  Tirah remembered her mother asking Father about someone named Mihel, along with someone else, though she couldn’t remember the other name. She had never understood the sadness in Mother’s eyes or why she’d been asking, but now, joy filled Tirah at the news she had another brother. She couldn’t wait to tell mother and see her eyes light up.

  “You can’t tell Mother or anyone that I come here,” Mihel said.

  Her joy dimmed a fraction. She so wanted to see happiness fill her mother’s face for once. “But why?”

  “Father will be very angry, and I will get in big trouble if anyone finds out,” Mihel answered.

  Just the mention of Father sent dread through her and Tirah agreed. “Oh. All right. I promise.”

  At least a few times a week Mihel would come visit her, and Tirah, who had no other friends, loved those nights. They’d talk, she’d ask questions, and sometimes he’d answer, sometimes he wouldn’t. She learned that she had another older brother named Casin as well.

  “Can I meet him too?” she as
ked.

  Mihel shook his head. “No.”

  “Why?”

  Mihel sighed. “Remember? You promised not to tell anyone that I come here, right?”

  Tirah nodded.

  Mihel swallowed and glanced around, before looking back at her. “Casin is not nice, in fact, he’s really mean. If he found out I came here, he’d tell on me, just to get me in trouble.”

  Tirah didn’t understand why he’d do that, but the sincerity and trepidation in Mihel’s eyes told her not to push it.

  Then a week went by, and Mihel failed to show up. Another week came and went, and still no Mihel. At first, she thought maybe he’d grown tired of coming to see her, but after three weeks and no sign of him, she started to get worried. She really wanted to tell her mother, only her promise kept her silent. Though as the days had passed, and her loneliness and longing to have someone around her age had grown, she didn’t know how long she could keep her secret.

  ***

  With mixed emotions, Tirah watched her two brothers. She wanted to ask Mihel where he’d been, but the warning in his eyes kept her silent.

  Mihel was ten, and he’d told her that Casin was twelve, but she hadn’t realized how different they would look. Casin was taller and much heavier, with brown hair just like Father. Remembering what Mihel had told her about him, she averted her eyes when Casin’s angry pale-brown eyes landed on her.

  Tirah shivered and covertly studied Mihel instead. He was smaller and thinner than Casin and had their mother’s dark hair. The only similarities between the two boys were their short hair styles and the grey uniforms they wore. She wondered why they weren’t dressed like all the other Ilyium … in long black or grey robes.

  Mother nervously patted her long, tied-back black hair, and looked around. “Here, let’s go sit.” She led them to the sitting area, then as baby Wren started to fuss in his bassinet, Ashara scooped him up. “It’s all right, Momma has you,” she crooned and sat down on the bench. Tirah slid in next to her.