“He’ll be here soon.” Warmund joined him, fingering his daggers. “If this plan of yours doesn’t work...”
“It will.”
Warmund gave him a skeptical look. “Right. Because my uncle is going to walk in here and start monologuing.”
Hendric gave him an annoyed glance. “You agreed to this.”
“Yeah, and I’m starting to think better of it.”
Before Hendric could answer, the door burst open. Both dragons whirled to meet the intruders, swords drawn. A good dozen men came in, led by a tall, pale-eyed man with a sneer on his face.
Fredrich’s gaze fell on Warmund, and he shook his head. “Well. It seems I am going to have to kill you myself.”
He leapt across the room, blade swinging at Warmund’s neck.
Chapter Fifteen
Sylvia
Sylvia piled the last of the car batteries in a stack, then made sure they were all connected to each other. She’d spent the last day pouring magic into them, building up a reserve of magic that she would be able to use to open a portal. Her heart pounded with anticipation and nerves. It wasn’t as though she didn’t have a backup plan, the ‘official’ portal would open in just a few hours. But that portal would take her to a time far after the time she had left, and who knew if Hendric and Warmund would still be alive then?
They were in the same field again, only today there was a strong wind whipping her hair into her face. Her glasses slipped down her nose, and she angrily shoved them back up her face. Now was not the time for her to lose her nerve!
Beside her, Avas gripped her hand and looked up at her with a determined expression. “I’m coming with you.”
“No, you’re not.”
“But Papa—”
“Would want to make sure you’re safe.” Sylvia fixed him with her firmest look. “You are going to wait until the portal from Byrelmore opens. That way we can make sure that you’re safe. It’s what your Papa would want.”
Avas’s small fists clenched. “But I’m a trained warrior. You need someone to protect you!”
Sylvia shook her head. “No. That’s final.”
Avas continued to protest but didn’t fight against Penny when she came to lead him away. Both of their faces shone with worry. Sylvia tried to give him reassuring smiles as she grabbed one of the jumper cables, feeling the power and magic in the batteries flow through her. She had figured out how to get batteries to hold onto magic projections, but would this work?
It had to.
Holding her hands out, Sylvia let out a slow breath. She couldn’t remember the words that Myleesa had used when she opened the portal. Luckily, Anna, her resident nerd, had introduced Sylvia to more than just The Last Airbender. There was also Stargate, which was built on the premise of portals and wormholes. Sylvia started to hum its theme song while thinking of Hendric, using that as an anchor to focus the magic.
A portal opened roughly, like the air was ripped in half. It flickered at the edges, but Sylvia didn’t allow herself to think of anything but Hendric. She imagined the portal anchoring itself to the car batteries and then threw herself into it.
A whirl of sound and color ended when Sylvia stumbled into something hard and broad. A voice grunted, and when she looked up, she saw green cat-like eyes, the eyes of a half-turned dragon. He grunted, grabbing her arm.
For a moment, there was silence. Just enough time for Sylvia to glance around; they were in a small room, filled with men and smoke and sword. Warmund and Hendric stood shoulder-to-shoulder before a heavy-looking bed. And Sylvia realized that she had stumbled into the middle of a battle.
“Oh!” she breathed.
Warmund bit out a growl and leapt forward. His sword struck at the man who held her; he released her and blocked Warmund’s blow. Hendric came in behind them and pulled Sylvia back. He spun her off-balance, and she crashed into the bed. With an oof, she collapsed onto the mattress. The portal was still open behind the attacker, but nobody seemed to care as they returned to attacking Warmund and Hendric.
A groan came from below the bed. With swords crashing, flashing so quickly Sylvia couldn’t tell who was winning, she dropped to the floor. Her eyes widened when she saw Myleesa there, hidden under the bed. Her face was a mass of bruises, lips cracked and bleeding. It was clear that she needed medical attention. Sylvia’s hands started to shake as she wiggled her way under the bed as well.
“What’s happening?” she hissed to Myleesa while groping for her wrist.
“Warmund’s uncle,” Myleesa panted. “He’s the one who was sending assassins after Warmund. We don’t know why.”
Sylvia gaped as there was a cry of pain from above them. His own uncle? What sort of world was this, that uncles would attack their nephews?
Another cry of pain. Sylvia bit back her fear, even as images of Hendric with his throat cut open flooded her mind. She looped her arms around Myleesa’s shoulders and started pulling her out. They were outnumbered, it was only a matter of time before they were overwhelmed. But the portal was still open. If they could get through it, then they’d be safe once more.
Someone stepped on her as she started getting out from under the bed. She let out a soft cry, and the man above her grunted. She twisted to see a sword piercing through his chest. Her heart nearly stopped, until she saw it was Hendric holding the sword.
“Why are you doing this?” Warmund screamed. He battled a man a whole head taller than him, with hard, angular features that reminded Sylvia of Indulf.
She pulled Myleesa from under the bed and put her on top of it while Hendric fought against another two attackers. The portal still churned. Sylvia took a deep breath, planted her feet and threw her hands out, wrists together, fingers spread as she released her breath. A blast of air whipped from her hands, picking up their attackers and throwing them across the room.
“Why?” Warmund repeated. He leaned on his sword. “Uncle...”
Sylvia looped her arm around Myleesa’s waist and pulled her upright. Their attackers all had their eyes on her now, teeth bared and fury in their eyes. With a painful squeeze of her heart, she recognized a few of the men that she had escaped from before. They started to edge toward the portal.
“Why?” The tall, hard man spat as he glared at Warmund. “Because I am done living second-class. What makes my little brother worthy of the throne, besides the fact that our asshole of a father was married to his mother?”
“Father gave you land and—”
“I don’t give a damn. I don’t want land unless it’s the whole kingdom, I don’t want a title unless it’s king. Your father is weak. He allowed himself far too much affection for you, boy.”
Sylvia pulled Myleesa a little closer to the portal. How long would the batteries hold it? The men still glaring at her mirrored her movements. Did she dare try to get past them?
“Once you’re dead, Indulf will spiral into a well of shame and regret. He’ll be weak in his grief, and while he mourns his traitor son, I’ll simply kill him, claim his mate as my own, and then I will be king.”
There was no time to be horrified at the uncle’s proclamation. Sylvia charged forward, dragging Myleesa with her and threw her into the portal. The attackers rushed forward. Sylvia ducked as a sword came at her head, only for a strong arm to wrap around her waist. Hendric spun her away once more and blocked three swords. His footing slipped, and he grunted. Warmund and his uncle were fighting again, only this time half a dozen other men were working their way around Warmund, breaking his concentration.
Sylvia screamed, acting on instinct. She stomped one foot and threw her arms out. A blast of cold air flowed from her. Ice coated the walls and crept up over feet. The attackers all cried out in shock and started chopping at the ice, but soon it had crept up to their knees. Hendric and Warmund both grunted, fighting to free themselves, as well.
She raced to Hendric and put her hands on the ice, imagining fire. A burst of flame poured from her hands, making them both yelp, but the ice
melted. Another burst of fire came from Warmund as he half-shifted. Hendric reached over, grabbed him by the arm, and threw him into the portal with one hand and Sylvia with the other.
A shout of fury echoed from behind them. Sylvia cried out, reaching for Hendric even as the sound and confusion of the portal enveloped her. With one hand she clung to her glasses while something warm filled her other hand.
When she landed, panting, she quickly scrambled to her feet. Myleesa was by the stack of batteries, her hands on them, while Warmund stumbled away to one side, and Penny went after him. And in her hand, another hand. Attached to an arm, which was in turn attached to…
“Hendric,” she breathed, throwing herself at him.
The kiss poured heat through her, like fire in her veins. His lips were soft against hers, his tongue demanding as it plundered her mouth. Sylvia whimpered as she dug her fingers into his shirt. The possibility that she might have lost him suddenly felt all the more real, and tears flooded her eyes. She clung to him tighter even as something small rammed into their hips.
“Papa,” Avas sobbed.
Hendric broke the kiss only to pick up his son. Avas buried his face into Hendric’s shoulder, clinging to him tightly. Sylvia rubbed his back softly while she held onto Hendric with the other hand. They stared at each other, eyes leaking, while nearby Penny made Warmund sit and then went to check on Myleesa’s injuries.
Seeing that, Sylvia reluctantly left her husband and stepson. She quickly checked to see if Hendric was bleeding, which he wasn’t, before she retrieved the first-aid kit from the car. The portal had flickered out, whether because Myleesa had done something or because the batteries had run out, she didn’t know.
“I thought I was going to go to the wrong place,” Myleesa murmured, as Sylvia started to clean her wounds. “I thought I’d be sent to your Victorian Era. I guess… I guess the portal doesn’t work that way.”
She swayed on the spot, and Sylvia grabbed her shoulders, supporting her. She had been badly beaten. Her heart rate spiked, even as a wash of fury and hatred made her chest tight and hot. How dare they treat people like this? But it was clear she needed to get to a hospital.
“Help me get her into the car,” she called over her shoulder.
Hendric was at her side in an instant. He scooped Myleesa easily into his arms and headed for the car. Sylvia wrapped an arm around Avas’s shoulders, while Penny urged Warmund to go with them. The prince had a strange expression on his face, but Sylvia was too worried about Myleesa to try to decipher it. Together, the group went to the car and got in. Penny drove with Warmund in the front seat; Avas sat on Hendric’s lap on one side of Myleesa. Sylvia kept an arm around her ancestor, her heart pounding as they drove.
“It’s going to be okay,” she assured them all, trying to sound confident. “We’re safe. It’s going to be okay.”
Chapter Sixteen
Hendric
The familiar halls of the palace made Hendric’s fires smolder with happiness. Even though the situation was less than ideal, he was happy to be home. Happy to have been able to go to his mother and assure her that Avas was alright. His son and the others were staying in the future world while Myleesa healed. It was nerve-wracking not to have Avas and Sylvia right with him, but they’d be safer there than here, given the circumstances.
Now he stood with Indulf and Thonis as they leaned over the map of the Exiled Lands, indicating where Fredrich’s attacks had been. Indulf’s face was a mask of fury, even as he listened without comment.
“And he said that his intentions were to take over Byrelmore?” Indulf asked, his voice calmer than his expression would suggest.
Hendric nodded. “He did. Warmund also indicated that Fredrich was the one to talk him into rebelling against you in the first place. This is clearly something that he has been planning for centuries.”
Indulf hissed between his teeth as he straightened. “Fredrich always did have a chip on his shoulder. My other brothers would always tell me I was too generous with him.”
“I don’t think showing him kindness is what drove him to this,” Hendric responded, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
“Perhaps not,” Indulf agreed, brow furrowed.
Thonis cleared his throat, bringing their attention to him. He shuffled on the spot, looking uncomfortable. “There is also the issue of Warmund. He’s in the future Earth, is he not? Do we retrieve him, bring him back to Byrelmore, or do we leave him?”
Hendric glanced at Indulf, whose expression turned to being torn rather than angry. Hendric understood. After all this, sending Hendric to find Warmund and bring him back, now he had the chance. But there was now this battle against another family member. How could they be certain that Warmund wouldn’t try to attack his father again?
“I won’t have him brought forcibly back,” Indulf said slowly. “But the invitation to return will be offered. Either Warmund will be drawn back to Byrelmore because of his cooling fires, or he’ll make a life for himself on Earth. Either way, at this point, it must be his choice. His life is no longer in danger. Fredrich can’t send assassins across time after him. Thonis, you will go and live at the girls' house, though. I don’t want Warmund around Wil—Katrina until I can be certain of his intentions.”
Thonis nodded. Hendric glanced away, repressing a sigh. It wasn’t his place to question his king’s decision to keep the truth from Katrina. He understood why Indulf had made that choice; now, though, he wondered if it was the right one.
“Right now, we need to concentrate on Fredrich,” Indulf continued, his voice growing hard. His eyes flashed. “I am sick and tired of my family betraying me. Fredrich will be brought down. Hendric, prepare the troops.”
“Yes, my king.” Hendric bowed. His fires sang through his blood, worry and anticipation mingling. Once this was over, then he could bring Avas back.
And Sylvia. He would finally be able to ask her the question that he longed to ask, the one he was terrified to ask. Once this was over and the dust had settled, they would be able to figure out their true feelings. He glanced at his gold band, rubbing his thumb over it as he did so. Would yet another of his marriages be broken when this was over?
Worse than that, would his heart be broken? Or was there a chance Sylvia would want him still?
Before the troops even started marching, there came news from the Exiled Lands that Fredrich was mobilizing. The palace was a flurry of activity as the troops prepared to meet Fredrich’s marching army. Made up of exiled people, slavers, mercenaries. Hendric tried not to think of how many were forced under threat of death to join with Fredrich. A man like that, he wouldn’t just look for volunteers. It was a horrible thing, though, and Hendric prayed that it wouldn’t come to a full-on battle.
Within a few days, he stood with Indulf as their armies faced each other. Fredrich’s forces were small and pitifully armed. It didn’t mean that there wasn’t a threat, but Hendric had to wonder how Fredrich thought he could win this fight.
Maybe it wasn’t about winning, though. As the armies rushed each other, Hendric spotted Fredrich’s armor gleaming in the sunlight. Maybe this was just about killing Indulf.
Not for the first time, Hendric wished that the king had chosen to stay at the palace. He ran beside Indulf, sword drawn and an armor of scales coating his body. Shifting into dragon form during the battle was a sign of desperation and considered a dishonorable move, especially against soldiers that couldn’t shift—they would try to settle this with steel and strength of arm.
The sound of the first wave clashing reached them seconds before the lines washed against each other. Men in Fredrich’s colors charged toward Indulf, and Hendric fell back, guarding his flanks and back, while Thonis took the front with two other guards. Two men broke free from the surrounding battle and came at Hendric at once. Fire burned between their teeth as they came at him. Hendric parried one blow while twisting to avoid the second. He struck out, clanging the hilt of his sword against the head of
one and spun around, cutting through the second’s leather armor.
Four more replaced their fallen brethren and Hendric bit down a curse. Of course, Indulf would charge into the heart of the enemy’s army in his attempts to get at Fredrich.
A blast of magic came at him and Hendric pulled up his shield, redirecting it into one of his attackers. He crashed the shield into somebody’s face and with a swipe of his sword, bought himself enough time to yank a cellphone battery from his pocket. This he cut open with his sword and hurled it into the ranks of the enemy. A soft popping noise was followed by a roar of white light; everyone within arm’s length of that light collapsed, unconscious.
Hendric grinned. Sylvia’s magic grenade idea worked after all.
A roar filled the air, and he whipped around in time to see Fredrich come down on Thonis. Thonis parried a blow, but Fredrich smashed a clawed hand into Thonis’s face, and the guard dropped. The other of the guard struggled to hold back Fredrich’s men and Fredrich himself broke through. His eyes blazed with hatred as he leapt at Indulf, bringing his sword down at the king’s head.
Hendric stabbed an attacker and turned to help his king, but three more men charged him, and he had to turn back. He blocked a blow with his shield and another with his sword. The combined strength of the men forced him back a step and he grunted. Sweat rolled down his back. His fires leapt higher, smoke billowing from his mouth. He shoved off one of his attackers and cut across the throat of the other.
A burst of flame narrowly missed his head.
He whirled to see Fredrich halfway in a shift. Swords had been discarded as he and Indulf wrestled with each other, smoke pouring from mouths and nostrils. Hendric dropped back, allowing the other guards to fill his vacant position before he turned to help the king. He rammed into Fredrich, dislodging him. Fredrich whipped around, claws like knives as they cut through Hendric’s leather armor. He grunted in pain, lifting his sword to swipe at Fredrich.
The Dragon Beast's Virgin: A Paranormal Romance (Separated by Time Book 3) Page 9
