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Dragon's Fire: A Reverse Harem Romance

Page 37

by Lili Zander


  Stop being mushy, Aria.

  I shake myself back into the moment. My orgasm grows, building to a crescendo until it crashes over me. Erik is right behind me, his cock jerking inside me as he fills me with his release.

  “Aria,” he whispers, his forehead touching mine. We lay there, breathing each other’s breaths for long minutes.

  I can’t speak. There’s a lump in my throat, and I’m feeling too emotional to form words. I just cling to him. The strong beat of his heart lulls me to sleep, and for the first time since Erik’s brush with death, I rest peacefully.

  96

  Aria

  It’s still dark when I wake up. I grope for my phone and look at the time.

  Five in the morning. Ugh.

  At my side, Erik snores gently, and I squelch my giggles. I am so going to pull his leg about this when he wakes up.

  The big dragon is like my own personal space heater. He’s radiating warmth, and it’s very tempting to cuddle into him and fall back asleep. I close my eyes and try doing just that, but after ten minutes of lying awake, I give up.

  Doing my best not to wake him, I slide off the bed and regard him fondly. Last night had been a revelation. Erik’s gruff on the outside, but the dragon’s a softie. He’d been tender. Sweet. Loving.

  Absently, I rub the mark on my wrist. The mating sign. If mating equals fucking, I’ve now done it with all five of my mates. Any chance that there’s some kind of revelation that’ll tell us how to amplify my blood?

  Nope. No vision of Maija Essen appears to guide us in our quest. It looks like we’re on our own.

  I’m naked. The fire’s died down, and it’s freezing. I look around for my clothes and get dressed. For good measure, I pull Erik’s thick woolen sweater over my head. It smells like him, and my lips curl into a smile. Screw the curse. I don’t have to be in the library until ten. I’m going to spend the next few hours savoring my memories of last night.

  I tiptoe out of the room and make my way to my bedroom. I don’t even know why Frau Ziegler bothered to assign me a room of my own. Given how rarely I sleep in my own bed, she’s probably wondering the same thing. I keep waiting for signs of disapproval—Frau Ziegler clearly adores Bastian, and I have no idea what she thinks of the whole Five-Mates-For-Aria thing—but the housekeeper has never been anything other than warmly friendly toward me.

  The castle is quiet, and the corridor is deserted. I’d learned just the other day that the staff has their own hidden staircases and corridors. Positively feudal, this place.

  I’m making my way along the dimly lit passage when something yanks at the magic around me. All of a sudden, I’m pulled into a vision.

  I’m standing inside Zyrian’s creepy Gothic masterpiece of a castle. The Bloodstone hangs around my neck, a warm, comforting presence. I’m clutching Endellion in my right hand, and the steel blade glows softly in the moonlight.

  The shadowy wraiths glide up to me. Leave, they whisper. Leave before the Rogue Prince can get his hands on the magic inside the Bloodstone.

  But though I know that they’re right, and though I know that if Zyrian possesses the Bloodstone, the world as I know it will end, I cannot turn back. My skin is cold and clammy, and my heart races with fear. He has Silas.

  Every path in front of you ends in destruction.

  All paths but one.

  It is treacherous.

  And you may yet fail.

  But fight you must.

  I don’t know where that whisper comes from. Somewhere deep inside of me.

  I’m walking to my death. I can’t allow Gideon Zyrian to channel the magic inside the Bloodstone for his own nefarious purposes. I need to save Silas and absorb the tainted magic trapped inside the ruby before Zyrian can use it.

  It’s an impossible task. But the whisper is right. I can’t turn back. For the future of magic, for the survival of everyone that I care about, to safeguard my five dragon princes, I must fight.

  Two guards stand in front of a tall set of iron doors. I’ve reached my destination.

  I’ve dreamed this scene so many times before. Every single time, the guards try to stop me, and I cut them down.

  This time, the vision is different. The guards don’t challenge me, and they don’t try to stop me from entering the inner sanctum. Instead, they wordlessly open the doors for me.

  Zyrian’s expecting me then.

  The hair on the back of my neck stands up as the Bloodstone blazes a warning, one I ignore. I enter the chamber, the sword unsheathed and at the ready.

  “You came,” the hooded figure in the center of the room says. I can’t see his face, but his voice is layered with menace. “A wise choice.”

  “Where’s Silas?” I demand.

  “Your concern for your family is… laudable.” He extends his hand into the air, and Silas materializes into the room, his arms tied behind his back, his feet lashed together with metal chains.

  I take an instinctive step toward my father, but a solid wall of magic stops me. “Not yet, Aria Archer,” the Dark Dragon says. “You know what you need to do. Bleed on the Bloodstone. Open the barrier, and when I absorb the magic within, I’ll free your father.”

  Wraiths stream into the room. Don’t do this, they shriek at me. If the Rogue Prince absorbs that magic, you will condemn all of us to eternal torment.

  I can’t reassure them. I can’t even think of my plan. If Zyrian breaks into my mind, if he discovers what I’m going to do…

  Keeping my eyes on the mage, I sheath Endellion and pull a small knife from my belt. I tug the Bloodstone from my neck. With a swift slice, I cut my palm and close my hand around the ruby.

  Magic tears free.

  I can’t let Zyrian have it. I close my eyes and tug the dark strands into my body. “What are you doing?” Zyrian shouts at me. “You’re trying to steal my magic? You stupid fool, do you think you’re strong enough to contain it?”

  The net is weaving around me, tightening around my body, squeezing the air from my lungs. I’m forced to my knees. My vision blurs, and I feel light-headed.

  Zyrian doesn’t need to do anything. The long-trapped magic inside the Bloodstone is more than capable of doing enough damage to finish me.

  The last thing I see is Zyrian flicking his fingers in a slicing motion. Blood gushes from Silas’ throat, and my father falls to the floor.

  There’s nothing I can do to stop the magic. Nothing I can do to save Silas. I’ve failed, and the Dark Dragon has won.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. The faces of my five dragon mates swim before my eyes. Erik. Bastian. Rhys. Casius. Mateo. As powerful as they are, they won’t be able to withstand the Dark Dragon, not now. Not when Zyrian has the power of the Bloodstone behind him.

  My failure has condemned everyone I love to death.

  No! I jerk back to Castle Jaeger, my body wracked with sobs. It’s not real, I tell myself. It was just a dream.

  Except I wasn’t asleep.

  Except the vision felt clearer than it’s ever felt before. I can still smell the coppery tang of blood in my nostrils. I can feel the pain from the cut on my palm. I can see Silas’ wide, staring eyes as he bleeds to his death.

  I can’t stop shaking. I sink to the floor. With trembling fingers, I dial Silas’ phone number. It’s eleven in the night in Manhattan, and if Silas is running true to type, he’s having a pint in his local pub.

  Pick up, Silas.

  The phone rings and rings and rings, but he doesn’t answer.

  My pulse starts to race. Don’t immediately rush to the worst-case scenario. It could be really noisy in the bar. Maybe he just can’t hear the ringtone.

  Okay. That makes sense. Silas frequently jokes about how my generation spends too much time staring at our phones. I take a deep breath to calm my frazzled nerves and dial Tomas Vallin, the head of Bastian’s security. Tomas’ men are guarding Silas; the panther shifter would know where my father is.

  Once again, the line rings over and over agai
n, but no one answers.

  I’m starting to panic when my phone beeps. I exhale in relief. Damn it, Silas. You scared the crap out of me.

  But it’s not Silas. “Ms. Archer,” a cool voice says on the other end of the line. “Having trouble reaching your father?”

  Zyrian. “Who is this?” My blood turns to ice, and there’s an audible tremble in my voice. “What have you done with Silas?”

  He laughs coolly. “Nothing,” he replies. “Yet. You’re not a fool. You know what I want. Bring me the Bloodstone, and your father lives. Fail, and he dies. You have twenty-four hours to get to my castle.”

  “Your castle is in Alaska,” I say stupidly. “I can’t get a flight…”

  “You’re the mate of five dragon princes. Figure it out.”

  Silas. Oh dear God, no. Please tell me this is a dream.

  97

  Aria

  I’ve got to move quickly.

  My first instinct is to find my dragons and tell them what’s happened. But almost as soon as that urge hits me, I push it back.

  We don’t have a way to amplify my blood. We can’t safely release the magic from the Bloodstone. Confronting Zyrian is a death sentence.

  I know Bastian, Erik, Rhys, Mateo, and Casius. They won’t let me sacrifice myself for Silas. They won’t let me go alone into the Dark Dragon’s lair. They’ll insist on coming with me.

  And then we’ll all die.

  My vision feels like a warning. Death awaits me in Zyrian’s castle. But I have no choice.

  Without Silas, I’d have never made it to my fourteenth birthday, let alone my twenty-fourth. He saved me from the streets, from Hagan Nygaard’s clutches. He gave me a stable home, a clean, safe place to sleep, food to eat. My life had been a struggle to survive, and in one act of stunning generosity, he’d changed it entirely. And most important, he gave me the greatest gift of all. Unconditional love.

  After so many years alone, Silas is finally dating someone. He’s joining a pack again. Everything’s going great for him. Or it was until Zyrian used him as a pawn to get to me.

  The Dark Dragon has read me well. I will do anything to save my father.

  Remember the vision, a voice cautions me. Remember your failure. Marching into Zyrian’s fortress, sword in hand, with nothing other than the Bloodstone to protect you is reckless and foolhardy.

  My heart aches. I don’t want to do this alone. I’d give anything to be able to knock on my mates’ doors. To wake them up and debate strategy with them. To figure out the best way to tackle this.

  But I don’t have that luxury.

  The clock is ticking. I have twenty-four hours.

  I don’t want to sneak out, the same way I had the morning after the Valhalla Ball. I don’t want to run away. I’m doing the lone wolf thing, but I’m not proud of it. I just don’t see any other option.

  I march on auto-pilot to my bedroom. I grab my backpack and stuff some belongings into it. My purse. The black Amex with no spending limit. My laptop. Endellion.

  Then I’m moving outside, making my way on silent feet to Bastian’s garage. I punch in the code to open the door—Bastian had made no effort to hide it from me, why would he? He trusts me, a trust I do not deserve—and make my way toward the silver Porsche that he let me drive last week.

  Bastian has repeatedly said that everything that’s his is mine. I really hope that extends to his private plane. Because if I’m to get to Zyrian’s castle in time, I’m going to need to steal it.

  I’m really sorry, I whisper as I turn the key in the ignition. More than anything else, I wish things could be different.

  Commandeering Bastian’s plane turns out to be easier than I expected. The manager at the private airfield recognizes me, which I’m confused about until I remember that Bastian had introduced him to me when we’d arrived from Manhattan.

  His name is Carl Rohrbach. “Ms. Archer,” he greets me, almost falling over himself in a bow.

  “I need a crew,” I tell him. “I’m going to borrow Bastian’s plane.”

  “Of course. Lord Jaeger has a team on call twenty-four seven. I’ll send them a message. They’ll be here right away.”

  Huh. Really? I glance at my phone. It’s been forty-five minutes since Zyrian called me. Alaska’s got to be at least fourteen hours away. “Tell them to hurry,” I reply, my voice laced with tension. “I don’t have much time.”

  An hour later, I’m in the air, pinching myself about how simple it has been to steal Bastian’s plane. I say steal, but the reality is, I didn’t need to do any such thing.

  Your mates trust you. Look at how you’re repaying them.

  Guilt sloshes through me. I have no doubt that the dragons will find out where I’m going. Even though this is a private plane, I’m sure that the pilot had to file some kind of flight plan. As soon as they wake up, they’ll know I ran away.

  And then what?

  Last week, Bastian had told me he loved me. I’d wanted to say those words back to him, but I hadn’t then. All week, I’ve been waiting for the right moment, but now, it’s too late.

  My throat closes up with grief. I can’t do this. I can’t walk away without a word to them. Without letting them know how important they are to me.

  My mates can’t stop me now. I’m already in the air. If the pilot tries to turn the plane back, I am desperate enough to threaten them with my magic. I’m going to reach Alaska in time.

  I close my eyes and take a deep, steadying breath. Then I pull my phone out.

  It’s self-indulgent, but damn it, I’m still going to do it. I’m marching to my death. Before that happens, I want one phone call. I want to explain why I’m doing what I’m doing, and above all, I want to tell them just how much I love them.

  98

  Erik

  The shrill ringing of my phone pulls me from my sleep. Aria’s soft body is no longer cuddled against mine, and her spot on the bed is cold. My phone rings again, and I remember what woke me. A familiar number flashes on the screen—Aria.

  Every instinct immediately snaps on high-alert.

  Calm down, Valder. The castle is huge. She’s probably just in the kitchens for a midnight snack and wants to know if you want anything.

  “Hello.” My tone is neutral, not betraying my roiling emotions.

  “Erik…” Aria’s voice is soft and apologetic.

  One word. That’s all it takes for cold dread to fill me. Her screaming bloody murder couldn’t have put me more on edge than that one word spoken in that quiet voice.

  “What happened?” I demand.

  “He has Silas.”

  She doesn’t have to say who he is. I know—we all know.

  The Dark Dragon strikes again. This time, too close to home.

  I’m out of bed and pulling on my clothes before she finishes her sentence. “It’s going to be okay, princess. We’ll get him back. Are you in your room? I’m—”

  “Erik.” She cuts me off. “I’m not there.”

  Pure blinding panic takes hold of my throat and steals my voice. What has she done?

  “I’m sorry,” she continues into the silence. “I’m so sorry.” She draws a shaky breath. “I have to stop him. I can’t sit by, not while Zyrian kills my father.”

  “Princess, do you think we’d let that happen? Where are you? We’ll come to get you.”

  “No,” she says sharply. “Zyrian’s power might be waning, but he’s not weak. He almost killed you once, remember?” Her voice goes quiet. “I can draw the magic of the Bloodstone into me. There’s no need to risk anyone else. I can’t let that happen. I can’t allow you to be hurt on my behalf.”

  The level of conviction in her tone would be impressive if there weren’t an edge of fear to it. Oh, my mate is brave. Braver than any woman I’ve ever known. But she’s not a reckless fool. She knows what she’s walking into.

  “Don’t do this to me,” I beg, my throat finally letting loose my words. “Wait for us. We will do this together.”

/>   “Please... Please don’t make this harder than it already is…” Her voice catches on a sob. “I don’t want to go to Alaska without saying something. I love you, Erik.”

  The last crack in my broken heart is filled with her declaration. I close my eyes shut as despair washes over me. Ah, princess. Why won’t you listen to me and wait for us? I’ve lost one mate. I can’t lose another.

  She’s pieced me back together, and now she’s tearing me apart all over again. “Princess.”

  “Will you tell them…” Another sob. She’s openly crying now. “Tell the others that I love them. All of them. I should have told you all sooner. I wish we had more time.”

  I want to yell. To scream and tell her that we don’t care about breaking the fucking curse. We want her—our mate—we’d give up all the magic in the world to keep her healthy and happy.

  But it’s not about the curse anymore. It’s about Silas Archer.

  “There has to be another way. Aria, please. Don’t do this without us.”

  “There’s no other way,” she says with finality. She takes a deep breath. “I love you.” There is a beat of silence, and then the line goes dead, my heart along with it.

  I stand frozen for what feels like an eternity. Then I’m running toward Bastian’s room.

  Fuck this shit. We’re going after her. No matter what she says or thinks, she’s not alone. She’s never alone. We’re her mates. Our place is at her side. Always.

  99

  Aria

  I pull myself together after my phone call with Erik. As tempting as it is to huddle up into a ball and weep, I’ve got to get my shit together. Too much is at stake here. The future of magic. The fate of my mates. And of course, Silas’ life.

  I will die, of course. But if I find a way to absorb the Bloodstone’s magic before it overwhelms me and use it to defeat Zyrian, then the curse will be broken.

 

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