Dragon Guardian (Drakins of Wyrmarach)

by Eden Glenn

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Wren studied the two watchers while they stood by waiting for Izzy’s orders. A deep blue light of otherworldly aura wrapped around both of them. Wren followed as Izzy drew them away from the activity. She hesitated to form an opinion of what the light meant. A similar light had shown around Izzy and Kiernan convincing her they belonged together if they could figure out a way past their huge obstacles. Talk about trust issues.

  Izzy sent them scrambling. “Rhys I need you to go down to the corner store and buy all the milk and white bread they have-- hurry.” He had a boyish charm. Classic beauty etched into his features with black hair feathered wildly around his head sheltering ice blue eyes that gave him a rugged edge.

  He made a very unlikely errand boy towering over Izzy from his hulking 6’4 height, but didn’t question her command. Were all these guys built like tanks? As he moved away from his companion the light faded.

  She was so tired from the events of the day. She’d moved through dimensions, had a harrowing rescue, flown dragon back and wrecked her romance all in the course of twelve hours. What she wanted most was sleep but her body continued to punish her with hormonal surges, more now that Ethan and Caleb had returned and were ignoring her.

  Wren felt a rattle of energy moving in her, zipping under her skin. She must have pinched a nerve twisting in Kiernan’s dragon grasp. She had an unexplained urge to touch Rhys for just a moment. She reached out, brushed his wrist to get his attention. Her fingers tingled. There, the energy eased from her. The compulsion ended.

  “Yes, Lady Wren?” He turned to her.

  “No, nothing, it’s okay.”

  He nodded and rushed to leave.

  Izzy hadn’t slowed down, grabbing a basket off the entry table, thrusting it toward the shorter man. “Haydn, go out back, fill this basket with all the fresh aloe you can harvest. Send it through the food processor and make a gel. We’ll need buckets of the stuff.”

  The young man moved to take the basket from Izzy. The itch of power tickled along Wren’s arm again. She couldn’t explain it. He was part of it. She raised her hand connecting with his chest. Feeling the annoying tingle pass into him,

  “Sorry.” She murmured. He rubbed his chest with his free hand in round circular motions.

  Haydn was stunningly beautiful but not in an alpha hulking male way like the others. No, more an androgynous sensuality that would lure either men or women to his side.

  His high cheekbones anchored round sapphire blue eyes framed with long dark lashes. A heart shaped face made room for large full lips to shelter potential for a dazzling smile. His features in near perfect symmetry were exotic and alluring affecting Wren in a, ‘I hate my girlfriend because she’s too beautiful’, sort of way.

  She wasn’t attracted to him as much as she struggled to not be jealous of him. Women suffered for the looks Goddess gave him naturally. He didn’t have to worry about red hair that had a life of its own or skin that could freckle under the tiniest amount of sunlight. She felt frumpy and coarse around him.

  He turned with the grace of a dancer. He didn’t walk, he glided from the room. Ok, add clumsy to my list of reasons why I feel inferior in his stunning presence.

  Izzy laughed reading Wren’s expression perfectly. “Ah, Haydn, yes, he has that effect on everyone in the beginning.”

  Wren shook herself to focus back on the task at hand.

  Once put into motion Izzy was a drill sergeant. Caleb and Ethan were press-ganged into helping the Watchers clear the room of all furniture to give Kiernan space to shift and stay in dragon form while she worked on healing his wounds. The group was not used to having dragons around needing space to recline in the den.

  Ethan and Caleb pushed by Wren with a couch headed for the back family room. Ethan pinned her with a stare that spoke volumes about how he felt seeing her touch another man, even casually. Well, he’d have to get over it.

  There was a lot going on all at once in a fevered pitch of activity. Kiernan had been convinced to sit in the one remaining chair where he became still as a statue and seemed to focus all his energy inward taking one measured breath after another.

  Izzy insisted on having everything she would need in place before he shifted. She was gathering supplies to deal with the infected wound trauma the dragon was experiencing. Her talent in healing extended to the metaphysical plain combining, gifts, and practical medicine.

  Wren didn’t take it personal that the guys basically ignored her while they worked. Well, not too personal. Okay, it was damn personal. She decided if they were going to be stubborn pricks about everything, she wouldn’t tell them she was free of Kiernan’s skin.

  Kiernan was looking progressively grayer and his breaths increasingly labored. A sense of urgency descended on their preparations.

  Wren followed Izzy into the large room listening to her whispered instructions. Kiernan leaned back in the chair staring at the ceiling. The process of preparing had taken at least half an hour. Caleb and Ethan may have stayed away from Wren but their eyes tracked every move she made. Wren turned her need into anger. They had to know how she was suffering and yet they closed their blasted minds and ignored her. There were so many things she wished she had told the two numbskulls, if she had been talking to them, that is.

  They probably wanted her to just go home. Maybe they never wanted to see her again. That was the way the Old Wren would handle things. But now things were different. She was different.

  She paced the front of the Victorian ballroom. Her thoughts swirled through all the things that had happened to her. Everything kept circling back to one undeniable thought. She loved Caleb and Ethan. Each step of her pacing emphasized, she wanted them. They were hers. She needed them. It was the most right decision she’d ever made.

  Their flaws while infuriating were intrinsically them. She was far from perfect as well. Well, maybe not as far as they were, but still. Most of their problem was communicating in a manner that wasn’t offensive. Surely there was a way for them to get a handle on that. She turned to make another lap in front of the deep bay windows.

  What if they really didn’t want her anymore? No freaking way. She was done feeling sorry for herself and finished dodging around the issues between she and the twins. She was ready to risk it all. One way or another, things were going to get hashed out. And at the end of it all if they didn’t want her, well so be it. But, damn that would hurt big time.

  Izzy’s voice broke through her revere. “We need to start.”

  Wren knelt down by Kiernan, prompted by Izzy’s nod to explain what would happen next. Wren accepted that Izzy was avoiding communicating directly with the man.

  “Kiernan, Izzy is ready for you to shift now. She has some healing talent and folk remedies. This may hurt. You’ll need to control your dragon. There is a lot of infection. It could be difficult for you.”

  “So have your healer fix my dragon’s body. You don’t understand. That guy did something to my mind. I’m no longer in control of my actions. A car went by my apartment with a booming bass and I blacked out, destroyed the kitchen and had to be restrained by them.” He jutted his chin toward Caleb and Ethan. “It took two warriors to stop me with considerable damage. If that happened here, I could kill someone.”

  “Okay, well first step is to heal your dragon. In this moment let me be your protector. Help us help you, okay?”

  He nodded wearily. “Sure, knock yourself out. Call Si’Mon to restrain me if needed. He’s big enough.”

  “Have you seen yourself in dragon form?” Well of course he hadn’t, there weren’t mirrors that big. Wren didn’t want to tell him that if Si’Mon transitioned along with Kiernan in dragon form there wouldn’t be room to contain the two of them, much less if Kiernan’s dragon really did need restrained. She imagined the bay windows along the front wall would be the first casualty of their Godzilla meets King Ghidorah re-enactment.

  He ignored the jab at his size and moved to the middle of the r
oom. He closed his eyes, lifted his head toward the chandelier and shifted. The process was a sensual, giving metamorphosis. Even while seeing the transformation, she couldn’t really comprehend how the change occurred, it just happened as if the dragon folded out of Kiernan, around Kiernan through space and time.

  The beast collapsed on the floor as if the change had siphoned any remaining energy he possessed. The wound pulsed an angry red and oozed a nasty looking discharge coating his flanks with ichor and green puss. Dirt from the stockyard scabbed part of the raw flesh-- white larvae moved in a churning motion burrowing through the dead meat, maggots.

  Wren’s full stomach threatened to turn inside out. She wanted to look away but she didn’t have that luxury. She and the others were there to help Isobeau save this man. How had the man Kiernan stood this much pain within his human form? How could this dragon survive?

  Izzy leaned to touch her forehead against the dragon’s, her hands stroking across his broad jaw. “I’m going to help you, trust me. I won’t let you down. Kiernan needs you to be well.” Her English lapsed into words Wren recognized as the old language the brothers occasionally spoke. She didn’t understand the meaning. The beast groaned a weary rumble.

  Haydn and Rhys stood there holding the bowl of goo they’d concocted for the healer. Both mirrored an expression of revered awe.

  Izzy spent hours soaking the wounds in poultices, drawing the infection. Wren carried bowl after bowl of some white glue like glop to coat onto the large patches of raw meat. Her arms ache from exertion. Izzy had ordered the Watchers out to get more white bread. She’d called friends asking for them to donate aloe, sending the unlikely Watcher errand boys to go get it.

  Wren wasn’t sure their efforts were enough or in time to do any good. Izzy laid white clothes on top of the stuff, allowed it time to soak. She’d heated it with an iron. Wren didn’t see the logic in that at first.

  Then once dry Izzy pealed the cloth back, resulting in removal of the dead tissue and parasites, almost like a natural debridement of the dead cells. Izzy had used metaphysical energy on top of the home remedies. Tension riddled down Wren’s back as if to lend her power to the healing. The larger wounds did seem cleaner and perhaps even rawer with the ucky stuff removed.

  Wren found a seat to collapse into resting the sword across her lap. Someone had brought back a small couch in the flurry of activity and she took advantage of the soft resting space. She felt better holding the blade.

  Her backpack sat on the floor by the bay window seat. She didn’t have the strength to hold her head up. At least the exhaustion took the edge off the sexual pressure caused by the separation from Ethan and Caleb. She couldn’t go on much longer. In a world full of choices she had none and it sucked.

  Caleb sat watch by the front windows of the large living room. The pitch deepness of late night settled around him. A small lamp on the side table gave the room a night light glow. Wren thankfully slept. One of the glass panes was slightly open. A storm was brewing in the night, thunder rumbling through the heaviness of pre-rain air. The darkness outside gave no indication of the hour.

  They’d worked long and hard attempting the healing of Kiernan’s dragon. They’d been at Izzy’s beckoned call while she poultice the various wounds and provide basic home remedy aid to the beast. The long hours of assisting Izzy’s efforts to save Kiernan had taken a toll on all of them.

  Caleb and Ethan had begun plans for retribution against the bastard who’d done this to the noble beast. It’d given him something to think about while they’d worked.

  Learning of the Goddess appearance to Kiernan, heaped on what his men had come forward and told them in Wyrmarach, and Izzy’s testimony convinced them both there was more to Kiernan’s story than they knew. The way the others had stood up for him spoke of his steadfastness. He was one of their own and that’s just how it was now, even if he was a Wyrm, dragon to human shifter.

  “Ethan, are you feeling it?” Caleb whispered waking his brother. The it was the beginning tingling awareness of the niggling of a premonition against their psyche.

  Ethan stood. “Yeah.”

  Caleb moved with him across the room. Wren was still in danger and it was past time to go hunting. The barrier between them didn’t matter. They didn’t care if she never claimed them. They were hers and they would battle to their deaths in her service. They were used to functioning on little or no rest while they carried out their duties as Enforcers. Adrenaline would carry them through the hours ahead.

  “Are you getting anything?” The queasy unease settled into Caleb’s bones twisting his gut into a tightness that made him feel like his skin was too small.

  Ethan barely grunted. “Nuha.”

  Caleb had sifted through the power swirling around them. Everything kept bringing him back to the same conclusion. “Something big and bad is coming our way and it’s coming now.”

  He looked around the room. Isobeau was resting curled up in the dragon’s forearms with a light blanket pulled over her. She’d lain down close to feel him if he woke. Evidently while she had been resting he had eased her into his massive embrace to cushion her body from the hard floor.

  Izzy had executed a curative to heal Kiernan’s dragon. She’d burned frightening sums of therapeutic energy performing the healing. Caleb had to wonder if there was something more between the two of them than gratitude for Izzy’s medicinal intervention.

  Ethan stood next to the double chair looking down at Wren sleep. She curled on her side cuddling the sword like a body pillow. He had insisted on bringing a small couch in for Wren to lay on when she wouldn’t leave and go to a real bed.

  Caleb imagined what her soft hair felt like. His brother reached down and brushed a strand off of her face. “We’ve screwed up pretty bad bro, haven’t we?”

  Ethan nodded his head in a short jerk that communicated the loss he felt.

  Caleb tasted the bitter tang of the deep sorrow they shared. “Do you think she will forgive us?”

  “Words can’t be taken back once they’re said.” Ethan’s voice sounded heavy with fatigue and sadness. “The important thing is keeping her safe and supporting her destiny as Dragon Guardian. That’s all that matters right now.”

  Caleb wanted to touch her so bad but was afraid he would wake her. He couldn’t face her, knowing their harsh angry words had pierced her with the sharpness of arrows destroying their bond before it had a chance.

  She groaned and nuzzled against Ethan’s hand. Caleb wished it was his hand. He paused to memorize the lines of her face in the shadowed light while she slept. She seemed too ethereal to be real.

  He put his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out to touch her. One touch wouldn’t be enough and he didn’t possess sufficient control where she was concerned.

  Thunder boomed and rumbled with a loud drum rolling echo, loud enough to vibrate the glass windows. Kiernan shifted uneasily rattling his wings at the noise.

  Ethan mouthed, let’s do this. Caleb could have spent the rest of his life watching her sleep and wishing he could get back the love they’d damaged with their anger. He nodded and crept to Ethan’s side.

  They pulled together tuning into the eddy of energy filling the room, searching, just as they had that morning in front of Wren’s store, struggling to find the patterns to follow.

  Caleb sifted through the possible threads, examining them for meaning. Precognition began to unfold the scene for both of them to view. The power drew them to the middle of the Victorian ballroom and revealed the future. After all they’d done, everything they’d tried, nothing could stop the events from their conclusion.

  Kiernan would die.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  A violent chain of dragon screams erupted in the pitch blackness of night. Phaux then released a piteous groan that stopped mid moan.

  Wren woke, the sense of other surged within her, sharing her psyche and moving her toward the animal. Izzy jumped from the floor where she’d fallen to rus
h to him.

  Out of the corner of Wren’s eye she noticed Maxwell charge into the makeshift dragon hospital. “What is the meaning of this?” He shouted. No one paid any attention to his question.

  Something was drastically wrong. Wren looked at Izzy who frowned at the hulking dragon. The room was too quiet, too still. The sense of other moved Wren to follow Izzy to the dragon’s massive head. Izzy paled and reached out to the beast.

  “No, No. Oh Goddess no. He’s not breathing. She felt for a pulse, shaking her head when she didn’t find one.”

  The beast’s lungs didn’t move the massive hulk with each breath. The stillness of a life simply shut off.

  Izzy’s shocked disbelief shook Wren. “The damage was worse than I thought. I should have insisted sooner he stay for healing.” When their eyes met, Izzy unraveled, sobbing her loss in Wren’s shoulder.

  She hugged her grieving friend.

  “I did all I could, Wren. I did all I could.”

  Caleb and Ethan looked at the floor as if waiting for the women to accept the inevitable loss.

  “I know Izzy. I know.” How would Izzy go on? So much had rested on Kiernan’s recovery. All the potential of this warrior, just ended?

  The flare of indignation sparked through Wren. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to be. Her sword warmed in her hand. The weight of infinite changes in the universe because Kiernan wouldn’t be present to do the many things he was supposed to do, assaulted Wren’s consciousness.

  “This is totally unacceptable. I told you the Goddess wasn’t finished with you yet and I meant it.” Wren followed the cues that came from beyond herself instructing her actions. The broad blade tingled in her grasp, sparkling with an inner fire.

  Wren then turned to the noble dragon. Wickedness had robbed him of life. Goddess had a continued need of his service. She placed the tip of the blade on the wide forehead before her, closing her eyes she saw a bright trail of energy unraveling like a braided cord that had lost its fastener. One of the thick ropes had black strings binding it in looped knots. It didn’t look right.