Smolder (Clan of Dragons Book 3)

by Nancy Lee Badger

  Evan nodded in silent agreement.

  Wynn spoke the truth. The sky was brightening, as the sun climbed higher in the east, over the mainland. Its rays turned the morning dew into sparkling gems that littered the nearby peaks. He glanced up at Dougal again.

  “Our brother’s once deep red scales have turned dull and lifeless.”

  “This I noticed, little brother, when he rained broken rocks upon me head.”

  Evan snorted. Light gray smoke drifted from his nostrils, and his brother coughed, making Evan chuckle. “When I came out to hunt at nightfall, he had wrapped his black wings and tail so tightly around him, I nearly missed spotting him on the peak. When I feared his mood was as black as his wings, I sped into the forest, to the west.”

  “Did you catch anything worth sharing?”

  His brother’s stomach growled. “Nay, Wynn. The forests around the village be empty, and I did not wish to venture farther, not when Dougal be in such a state.”

  “What can we do?”

  “About what?”

  “Evan, what shall we do about getting Dougal a mate?”

  Evan sighed, and rubbed his aching left thigh with his snout. It seemed a lifetime ago when a flaming bolt of lightning had scorched his scales, narrowly missing vital organs. Before it had marked him, he had spent the cloudy afternoon in pursuit of a lovely young dragon, only to watch the same bolt of lightning kill her, and turn her into so much ash. The scar lingered, and throbbed whenever rain headed their way.

  He shoved aside the pain-filled memories. Instead, he turned to gaze at his brother, Wynn, the middle dragon. His green eyes had clouded, and his green scales had dulled, though the sun shone down upon them both.

  “We have searched for years. There be no more female dragons within a day’s flight of our den. What can we do?” Wynn flicked a raven from his right wing. The bird screeched, and flew away.

  “Fly farther inland? Or, across the sea? Mayhap there be some on one of the other western isles. Or, east, to the Highlands? Rumors abound of a creature looming beneath the surface of Loch Ness.”

  “Be you daft, brother? A swimming dragon? I have never wanted to dive into a lake, or the sea. ‘Tis not natural. And during this search, far and wide, what happens if you do not find a mountain crag, or dark cave in which to sleep? What if humans spy you flying overhead? There be clouds, this day, but the sun grows bright, and the sea breeze shall push them away. With no clouds or fog to cloak you, humans might discover they be not alone on this island.”

  “Aye, Wynn. Whenever I fly farther inland, I never see fog. Mayhap it only exists near these cliffs, and the sea. I do not wish to leave the Cuillin Hills, but the elders spoke of other ways to make certain our clan survives.”

  “And they said these words of wisdom before they died, without leaving us a clue as how to accomplish this great plan.”

  “That we be the last of our kind be sad, but I propose to end this,” Evan said. He wasn’t sure his brother believed him, but he was old enough to finally gain their respect. After he took on the task of finding them all mates, they would not look at him as their little brother.

  “How can we end this problem? We be facing annihilation. Shall I head inland with you?”

  “Nay. Someone ought to stay with Dougal.”

  Wynn nodded, and glanced back at Dougal. “With Cliona gone, I fear he does not wish to live.”

  With his massive red head tucked beneath a wing, their brother appeared asleep, which was a blessing. Evan clenched his talons in frustration. Clumps of black basalt tumbled toward the valley floor, but the heavy mist hid their progress. “I shall go alone. Promise me you shall stay and keep an eye on him?”

  Wynn spread his wings, soaking up the sunlight, and drying the thin membrane. He flicked his tail, and stretched. Evan followed, mimicking his brother by stretching to his full height. This simple exercise was liberating after a night spent hunting unsuccessfully, while worrying about their older brother.

  “Where exactly do you plan to go?”

  “Listen, Wynn, I propose to scout the nearest human village. Mating and procreating be something every life form needs to survive, aye?”

  “I suppose you speak the truth. What will you do in the village? Dougal always demands we keep our distance.”

  “I shall learn their ways, language, and customs. I shall shift into a human, and mate with one of their females.”

  Wynn gagged.

  “Brother, ‘tis the only way to see if we can create another generation of dragon-shifters.”

  “Mate with a human!” A voice, more a barked growl, thundered from above Evan and Wynn’s heads. As he landed beside them, their older brother’s wings blocked the sun. Their mountain perch shook, and huge boulders tumbled through the mist to the unseen valley floor.

  “I hate the humans. They killed me mate!” As Dougal stepped closer, a blast of red-orange flame shot toward Evan, but he held his ground.

  The smell of his singed purple scales wafted up, but he knew Dougal was the one in pain. Evan nodded at Dougal, and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I understand this, and I be filled with sorrow for your loss, but our future be in peril. We be the last of our kind, I fear.”

  “Take care where your allegiance lies, brother. The humans will die by these talons.”

  Evan stepped closer to Dougal. The anger visible in his brother’s snarling maw might waylay his plans to investigate the humans. “Nay, not until we discover if we can put them to good use.”

  “I heard you speak of mating with them. Be you daft? They smell bad and taste worse.”

  “You have eaten one of their kind?”

  Dougal flapped his black wings, then curled them around his belly, as if recalling tasting something vile. “Aye. Once, when fishing far out to sea, I spied two males clinging to an overturned vessel. I kept me distance, but watched as a huge shark pulled one beneath the waves. The other screamed and screamed, and I put him out of his misery. Do not shun me. I killed him with me talons quickly, then ate him. The toothy fish ate his companion alive.”

  “You will have to accept that I want to try and see if we can live beside them,” Evan said.

  Wynn snorted, and a tendril of green smoke escaped his left nostril.

  “Not helping, Wynn,” Evan said.

  “Listen, young one, how can you think to interact with a species when you don’t understand their language, let alone their customs?” Dougal asked.

  “I have a plan. I shall shift into a creature they deal with every day. I will listen and learn.”

  “A creature? Hmm,” Wynn said, and scratched his left ear with his talons. “Don’t become a cow. They get milked twice a day, and I do not believe you will enjoy that.”

  “Not if they yank on his udders. If he shifted into a bull and they touched him down there, well…”

  “No one goes near the bulls, and a cow does not have…that, so I will not change into either.” Evan shivered at the thought.

  “Goats, sheep, and chickens be no good. The humans have a habit of slaughtering one or the other, then roasting it for their supper.”

  “How about a dog?”

  “They have very few because they be used to hunt wild boar, a fearsome creature that be quite plentiful around the village of which you speak. Feral boars often take one or two dogs down with them. Besides, the mangy beasts get kicked a lot.”

  Evan looked at his brothers, and bared his teeth. He was growing disgusted with their unhelpful attitude. Releasing a heated, acrid burst of sparks and flames, he silently vowed not to say another word. Not until one of them said something useful.

  “If you insist on this foolish venture, I suggest we fly down into the forest and watch from the trees. If Evan wants to become one of these humans, possibly saving our species, we should help. Do you not agree, big brother?” Wynn glanced at Dougal.

  Evan glanced at neither. His lids drooped, until his eyes closed. He prayed all would be well, and that Dougal would h
elp them in their quest. If Dougal agreed to help, it might keep the older dragon’s mind off Cliona’s death.

  “Aye, lads, ‘tis a good idea. I have no love for humans, but wolves be dying out, and there be less and less red deer roaming the island. Humans continue to populate the hills, valleys, and even the oceans, though sharks be their adversaries in that venue. I’ve heard tales of mythical selkies, the shape-shifters that like to walk the shore, though I’ve never spotted one. Whales seem plenty, along with seal and otter, but they do not hunt the humans.”

  “We, and the humans, hunt them,” Evan said, and smacked his lips. He loved fish for dinner.

  Dougal nodded. “Aye, we hunted humans centuries ago, but no longer. These humans have gained strength, cunning, and agility. Strong creatures, they be, since their numbers grow. They could be the only creatures hardy enough to bear our young.” His voice broke.

  Evan opened his eyes and glanced at his older brother. Dougal had covered his head with his black wings, again. Wynn’s maw twisted from a slight smile into a frown. His upper fangs glistened. Were those tears dampening his cheeks?

  Evan’s tongue flicked out, and he caught the scent of wolves. They didn’t bother him, but sensing them somewhere between their cave, and the village, was peculiar. Wolves on the Island of Skye usually kept inland and to the north, but sometimes they would venture into the open meadows where the human’s flocks of sheep and goats grazed.

  Unfurling his wings, Evan arched his back. He flapped the thin leathery membranes, and the sun turned their normally muddy brown into the color of melted copper. He gazed at his older brothers. “I propose we head to the village, land in the forest, and watch the villagers go about their day. An idea will spark inside of me, and I shall begin me quest for a mate.”

  Dougal said nothing, but nodded his huge, red-scaled head. Wynn sighed, and unfurled his snowy wings in silent agreement. They acted like they doubted he could accomplish such a feat.

  Evan jumped into the air. As his wings snapped and propelled him into the morning sky, Wynn followed him. He did not look back to see if Dougal followed them. He had faith in his oldest brother to do the right thing.

  Although one future had died with Cliona and her unborn bairn, Dougal was still a young two hundred and thirty-eight years, and strong. He was a mighty warrior, and he would come around, should their experiment bear fruit.

  That fruit would be a bairn. Evan’s offspring. The thought of mating with anyone made Evan’s head swim, and he flapped his wings with renewed gusto, and shot even farther ahead of his brethren. Something surged through him. Something akin to hope pierced his chest, right through to his dragon heart. He had a feeling luck was on his side, and an adventure would give Dougal hope that he might find another mate. With his brothers at his back, how could he lose?

  Evan landed soundlessly in a clump of trees beside a small stream, within sight of an open-sided hovel, filled with horses.

  “Horses? I forgot about these large creatures.” Wynn whispered. He had landed nearby, and ambled through the brush, silent for such a large dragon. He had tucked his white wings high on his back, and leaned slightly away from the village, making the rest of his green body nearly imperceptible among the green boughs of pine trees.

  Evan had already wrapped his brown wings close, and tried to look like tree bark. A low thud announced the arrival of Dougal, and they waited until he joined them, his ruby-red body wrapped in his black wings, mimicking shadows.

  “Look. Horses of every color. I have seen the humans travel on their backs, and the beasties don’t seem to mind it. They look well fed. See that female? She be giving them something to eat. Look how they nuzzle her. They seem rather content,” Wynn said.

  Evan squinted, trying to see what the female was doing. Her long red hair reminded him of a fiery sunset, covering her face as she leaned over with a round metal bucket. She dumped its contents into a trough. The view of her rounded backside, beneath her simple brown gown, was appealing. Evan’s loins ached with a sudden need to nuzzle her, too. The animals crowded around, and shoved each other aside to get to the fodder. The female laughed, and petted the glossy neck of the animal closest to her. Evan wanted those fingers on him.

  Startled by such a thought, he gasped. “Flames of Hell!”

  “What? Evan, do you see a problem with your plan?” Wynn asked.

  Evan took a deep breath, and shook his head. “I will shift into a creature similar to the one grazing in the far paddock, but I hope you will recognize me. I would not wish to be devoured by either one of you.”

  As Dougal grumbled, then smirked, Evan moved behind the bulky bodies of his brothers. Out of sight of the village stable, and the human lass, he shifted. The air around him snapped as if a branch had broken and tumbled to the ground. His bones jerked, and he sucked in a deep breath to keep from roaring with pleasure. The transformation did not hurt, and was a nearly silent process. The euphoria that always accompanied the change wrapped around him. When the last sparkle drifted away, he glanced down at the front legs of a copper-colored horse.

  “Evan! You look fine and dandy, but your scar still covers your thigh…or, be it your withers?” Wynn laughed.

  Evan used his new rear hooves to kick him in his shin.

  “Ouch! Cut that out. I was not disparaging you. Being disfigured, I believe a female human might love you even more. Besides, the mark of our species be on your back. It runs along your spine.”

  Evan turned his long neck, but only spied some dark discoloration along the ridge of his much smaller back.

  When Wynn laughed at his obvious distress, Evan turned and nipped the thin flesh of his white wing. Before Wynn could roar in pain and anger, Dougal pounced and tumbled them both to the forest floor. “Keep making noise, and we shall have the entire village hunting us in a thrice.”

  Evan pulled his long, thin legs beneath him, and stood. He shook, throwing leaves and twigs from his coat. Stomping a front hoof, he bowed his long neck, admitting he had acted brashly. Wynn rolled away, got to his feet, and retracted his talons. His expression was that of a very upset dragon, but neither had a right to discount their older brother’s warning.

  Dougal stepped closer to Wynn and whispered. “Since Evan can no longer speak to us, I will say this.” Dougal turned to Evan. “We will watch from a hidden vantage point to ensure your safety and learn from your actions. Be safe, brother.”

  Evan understood his words, but could not respond. He threw his head up, and nudged both dragons with his new nose. They inhaled his new scent, another way to mark him as their brother. Evan turned and trotted toward the woman. With her back to the forest, she did not react when he joined the other creatures.

  As she stepped closer, and dumped more feed into his end of the trough, he appraised her thoroughly. Her arms were bare, her skin golden, and she wore a scoop-necked shirt beneath her apron. Its deep green color reminded him of a meadow near the western shores of Skye, far from the mountains. Her dark red hair lay loose around her head, flowing over her shoulders in naturally twisting curls. She absentmindedly tossed the thick strands over her shoulders to trail down her back. Muscles flexed in her shoulders and forearms.

  She be a strong female who works hard caring for large beasts.

  Perfect.

  When she straightened, placed her hands on her waist, and arched her back, two ample breasts jutted forward. They were barely bound by her shirt and apron, and pointed directly at him. When he leaned forward, and his muzzle sniffed the shadow of her cleavage, she giggled.

  Evan raised his gaze to her pretty face. Sun-kissed skin, high cheekbones, and emerald-green eyes stared back. She smiled at him, and her berry-red lips parted. The tiny tip of her tongue swept over her upper lip, and Evan’s four knees locked. Awestruck by her beauty, and the simple pleasure in knowing he’d made her smile, he lifted his head and nuzzled her neck. She smelled of horses, smoke, and something else. Flowers? Meadow grass? Whatever the scent, it pleased his ne
w nose.

  Her hand came up and smoothed the fur along his jaw line. When she scratched him behind his left ear, his left hip shook.

  Heaven!

  Evan took a deeper breath, and smelled sunshine and rainwater, as if she’d taken a recent bath in the creek he’d seen meandering through the forest. A softer scent escaped the red wisps of her hair, and he wondered if she had recently washed her hair with crushed lavender buds.

  “You be a fine looking animal, sir. I do not believe we have met.”

  Evan was speechless. He could not say his name, nor could he return the favor by scratching behind her ears. He snorted in frustration, and a spark tainted the air.

  “Where did that come from?” she said, waving her hand in the air. “Hmm, I think I will name you Spark.”

  He nodded his head, sending his long neck up and down. She was a beauty, with a pert nose, and sparkling eyes, though her head barely reached his shoulders. When her lips opened slightly, his chest tightened. If this female was unattached to another male, he would mate with her, and see if another generation was even possible. He knew he would enjoy trying.

  Smoke, Book #2, Clan of Dragons

  Chapter One

  Isle of Skye, Scotland

  Four nights before the full moon

  Snow whipped across the mountain like a frenzied ocean wave. Gone was the ethereal beauty of low clouds, tipped with silver. The beauty of nature was lost on Wynn. Hours ago, as night moved forward and wet flakes buffeted his head and horns, he’d tucked his scaly snout beneath his wing.

  When a gust of wind, harsh enough to wake him from a deep sleep slammed into his body, he lost his grip on his perch. He staggered sideways, and landed at the base of the Black Cuillin Hills. When his left wing bent, as he rolled into a pile of icy white snow, he groaned. To find his footing he dug his talons deep into the snow until they reached the frozen earth below. He shook his head until his scales rattled.

  “Did you fall asleep again, brother?”

  Wynn glared at his older brother as Dougal alighted nearby. Dougal’s red scales and black wings stood out in colorful contrast to the snow. Wynn’s green scales, currently hidden beneath a deep snowdrift, were less flashy.