Shadowed Lies (Soul of a Dragon Book 2)

by Clara Hartley

  At first, she didn’t believe that dragons could be made through soul magic. But she opened herself to the idea. Dragons were magical creatures. It didn’t seem too far-fetched.

  The spell was ridiculously long—an entire page—and she couldn’t pronounce half the words. Some phrases were less readable because of smudges and tears in the paper, but like the other spells in the book, she could somewhat guess what they were supposed to say with her understanding of dragonian.

  An entire village’s worth of souls, and two bonded souls to seal the deal—that was what it had cost to create dragons. They were creatures made from death.

  She wasn’t sure if she should release her new findings to the public. How would the clan members take it? Plus, the entire clan hated her now. If Rayse didn’t come back soon, she was certain she’d be hung by the dragons. They were scared, and fear made people do the ugliest things.

  She prayed that Rayse would return. She needed somebody to share this with. She wanted to know what he thought about it, and what he would do about it.

  But he wasn’t there.

  She hated him for this. In her eyes, there was no reason to leave other than his paranoia. He shouldn’t have abandoned her.

  When he returned… if he returned, she promised herself she wouldn’t forgive him easily. To teach him a lesson and let him know he should never do this to her again.

  But who was she kidding? Her resolve was bound to shrivel, and she’d likely embrace him with open arms.

  “Shen,” she said. “What do you think of dragons being created by a witch?”

  He snorted. “Insulting.”

  She smiled. Rayse would probably react the same way. Dragons and witches didn’t like each other.

  Dragon’s breath. She missed him so much it hurt.

  Chapter 9

  Rayse watched Constance from the sky. He was in dragon form. She couldn’t see him, not with him concealing himself far above the clouds. Only those with dragon eyes could.

  It was so tempting to fly down, shift back, and take her into his arms to apologize. He had so many questions to ask her. Did she miss him? Was she mad at him?

  Of course she’s mad at you, dumb-ass dragon. You’ve been ignoring her for days on end. No woman would withstand that.

  She would have received the book by now. Shen would have made sure she’d gotten it. It had come at a steep price from the water witches.

  He had to give them their child.

  Give wasn’t exactly the right word. He was supposed to send his female child to them for five years of training once she reached twelve. They’d heard of Constance’s affinity with magic, and wanted to experiment with how dragon females could deal with the art. That was their official reason, anyway. He knew they wanted to indoctrinate their child, and plant someone with allegiance to them into the Everstone dragons.

  Still, he trusted Aryana and Diovan Grimfire, the couple ruling the Grimfire dragons. They were an odd pair, but his dragon could sense the truthfulness behind them.

  He had only agreed to the condition when the witches promised his daughter would be allowed to bring a protector.

  He wanted to be there for his mate, but he remembered what Aryana had told him:

  “No one can fight against black magic unless they are a wielder of it itself. It is best you stay away from your mate now that she’s been listed as a target. Not even you, the Black Menace, can withstand it. If you don’t want Constance’s blood on your hands, stay away.”

  He’d gone to Ocharia to solve the problem. Instead, it just about hit the last nail in the coffin of his suspicions. He had been right to flee from his love. A doubt nagged at him—what if he was unable to reside next to her ever again?

  Constance shut the door of their home behind her. That was the last he would see of her today. He sighed internally and bade his wings to fly off to meet Shen.

  He landed on the rocky outcrop where he and Shen usually met. He called to his human side. Soon his wings morphed into arms, and his scales shrank into skin.

  He put on his clothes, then walked to where Shen was already waiting for him. “How is she?” he asked. Rayse hated this man, even though he was the one who’d commanded Shen to stay at his mate’s side.

  Why could the yellow dragon be with her every waking moment while he couldn’t? The answer was obvious, but he still couldn’t stop his heart from being jealous.

  “She asked me a strange question last night,” Shen said. “She questioned what I thought about dragons originating from witches.”

  “What did you say to that?”

  “Insulting.”

  “She has the strangest of ideas.” Witches and dragons? Centuries of deep grudges made the two races hate each other. But his view of those women had changed after meeting Constance and the water witches. The hatred between them seemed to stem from centuries of misunderstandings. It didn’t help that witches were human and dragons used to pillage villages before Rayse had stopped them. “It’s probably something she read in the book. Is she eating well? Sleeping well?”

  A grim expression took over Shen’s face. “Something’s not right about her. I think the stress is affecting her negatively. Her breathing has slowed, and her appetite has lessened. She’s coughing a lot. Dragon wives hardly cough. It could be the pregnancy.”

  “Might be.” Rayse cursed on the inside. If she was weakening, then he should be there to help. “Make sure to ask Greta about it. Tell her to brew some tonics to improve Constance’s immune system. Tell that old woman it’s a direct order from me.”

  Shen dipped his head. “Yes, milord.”

  “Is the book helping with her findings?”

  “She did mention how invaluable it is. She told me she found the spell for the black smoke.”

  Rayse’s brow furrowed. “She has?”

  “She also said that it’s impossible to stop. Not unless she uses black magic itself.”

  A growl stirred from within. “She’ll have to risk her life. Aryana told me many witches don’t survive its harvest.”

  “She doesn’t seem keen on using it, either.”

  “Is that all she had to say?”

  “Yes, milord. Is there anything else you would like to ask or command me to do?”

  Was there? Should he leave a message for Constance? He thought about it over and over. Would that make her too hopeful? Maybe it was better for her to forget about him in the meanwhile. Let the pain dull. There was no telling how long it would take for this matter to resolve.

  She must never forget about me, his dragon said, almost with a hiss.

  Magic was not his domain. The sky and fire were. With magic, he was as clueless as a dragonling. He relied on Constance to solve this. He had tried to recruit the help of the water witches, but all of them were resistant to the idea of coming to the largest clan of dragons.

  He needed her to get to the bottom of her findings quicker so the threat could be removed. He hated being this helpless. It should have been the other way around.

  He ignored his bestial instincts and said, “No, nothing else.”

  “These traps are in the strangest of locations,” Shen said, as they trekked over the mountainside.

  Constance tiptoed around the edges of the rocks. The jagged surfaces sometimes scared her. If she slipped and fell, she would no doubt suffer some scars—nothing Greta wouldn’t be able to handle. “The snow rats are pesky creatures. Sometimes Rayse comes along to help me with them. He saved me from falling flat on my face a few times.”

  “Where’s Nanili? Isn’t this her job?”

  “I thought I might have a walk.” She coughed and ignored the nausea creeping up. It still wouldn’t go away. She thought a breath of fresh air might help with the sickness that had begun to plague her.

  The whisper of the winds soothed her, but the throbbing ache in her heart would never leave, not until Rayse returned to fill the gaping pain there.

  She bent down and reached into a burrow. “Ther
e has to be one in here.” A squeaking reached her ears. She smiled. She pulled out the little critter and passed it to Shen. He grabbed it by the folds of its neck. Its white fur crinkled beneath the yellow dragon’s touch. He wrestled with it and placed it into the rucksack. The creatures were tiny—no more than the size of her fist. She had caught three of them so far. Not bad for a day of trapping.

  “There’s another one in that tunnel over there,” she said, pointing to the entrance.

  “Be careful.” Shen kept close in case she fell.

  “I’ve been here countless times. I know the rocks like I know my study.”

  They maneuvered their way to the cave. A few florae sprouted from the beds of snow. Life always tried to find a way, despite how terrible the conditions could be. It’d struggle, but would live on. Her foot crunched over a spindly, growing twig.

  Shen halted. “Wait.”

  Another dragon male soared from the sky and landed in front of them. “We need your attention, sir,” the man said. Constance didn’t recognize him. She hadn’t been in the clan long enough to acquaint herself with everyone, considering the size of it. Plus, them hating her now made getting to know people more difficult.

  “Why?”

  “There’s a group of dragon wives throwing dung at the femrah’s home. It’s not pretty.”

  “Can’t you stop them?”

  “We’re not going to use brute force. Their husbands would have our throats. If you go there and make a show of authority, it might help.”

  “I’m on guard.”

  Constance smiled up at him. “I can handle myself.” She took the sack of snow rats from him. They wiggled in the pouch. She placed them into her sling bag, which also contained some herbs she had picked along the way. The struggle of the little creatures brushed against her thigh.

  “Are you certain?”

  “Go. I don’t want to come home with a house covered with dung stains.”

  Shen hesitated before nodding. He summoned his yellow wings and took off with the man.

  She was left alone in the mountainous expanse. She sat for a moment, enjoying the peacefulness of the scenery. It was so white, as if heaven had come down and blown over the whole of the Everpeak region. Without the mess of responsibilities and the ache of her thoughts, this place was gorgeous.

  She looked up and saw three dragons flying in the distance—silhouettes of death.

  When enough time had passed, and she decided she had to finish up and get back before sunset, she stood and entered a cave. It wasn’t large at all. She could walk the whole of it in less than five minutes. A nest of snow rats had made this location their home. She strode to where the nest was and scooted over to pick her prize up.

  “She went in here?” came a gruff voice.

  She stilled.

  “I saw her. She’s in the shadows somewhere.”

  “Hurry. We don’t have much time left.”

  The terrain creaked under the weight of their boots. They would find her once they rounded the corner. She readied her hand over her soul beads and kept her tongue prepared for a spell. She couldn’t see much in the darkness of the cave. Just faint shadows.

  “There she—”

  She spoke an ice spell and blasted it the instant she saw a man. She aimed for the ground, where his feet would be. She couldn’t kill him. She couldn’t cross that line, or the darkness would take her.

  “Bloody bitch got me!” He stumbled over the ice and crashed into the rocks. She had made sure his ankles were frozen. He wouldn’t be getting up for a while.

  She dodged past him and found herself face to face with his companion. She reached for more souls. The man tightly gripped her wrist and twisted it. She yelped out in pain.

  “Careful, she’s dangerous,” the man on the ground said.

  “I know.”

  A sting went up her side. She called for her power and prepared to throw it at him, but he kept her spell arm fully locked, and the souls were wasted on the obsidian wall.

  She closed her eyes and awaited death.

  Her assailant threw her to the ground. Her cheek met the sharp edge of a protruding rock. She cringed at the throbbing it spiked through her skin. Her ankle was sprained by the force and she cried out. She couldn’t get up.

  It was cold.

  She tried to imagine Rayse’s warmth. She didn’t want to die alone.

  “Lord Ev-ver—”

  The death she waited for did not come. She turned around, wincing at the pain of her ankle, and saw a shadowed figure with a sword. The figure sliced past her assailant. Blood sprayed from the assailant’s neck and splattered over the cave. The warmth of some of it hit her cheek. She smelled the metal in the air.

  Silence.

  The chirping of a snow rat broke it, and the begging of the man she had frozen followed. “We didn’t mean any harm, I swear.” Her shadowed rescuer plunged his sword through the man’s chest, and the dragon male’s life seeped away.

  The figure stood, his back to Constance.

  “Rayse?” she said. Her heart stilled.

  It was him. She knew it.

  Her breath caught in her throat. “Say something, please.”

  He walked up to her and bent down. She summoned a light spell, which flickered between them. The spark of brightness lit him up with harsh shadows. She gasped, almost not believing her eyes. These two weeks had been so long that she thought she’d never see him again.

  “You should be with Shen when out by yourself,” he said.

  “It was only going to be for a while.”

  “If I weren’t here…” He raised a hand and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Are you hurt?”

  “My ankle.”

  He lifted her up and put her in a seated position. He inspected her injury. His touch feathered over her skin. Her foot hurt, but the presence of her mate made her feel instantly better. Her pulse sang with his return.

  “It’s swollen,” he said.

  She tried not the flinch when he lifted her leg to inspect it. “We have some medicine to help it heal within a week.”

  “Nothing too serious.”

  She nodded. “Are you back for good now?”

  His jaw tightened. “You know I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “I almost killed you.”

  “You won’t. I trust you.”

  He looked up. His dark gaze caught hers, and he stared at her with an intensity that made her chest ache. “Even the water witches suggested we stay apart now that we’ve been singled out. This magic is greater than mere willpower and self-control.”

  “I can’t live like this.”

  “Me neither.”

  His wings were open behind his back, tucked in so they didn’t get in his way in the close confines. He lifted her into his arms and strode out into the cool air. He thrust himself upward. She’d missed this feeling, being in his embrace and exploring the open skies. She nuzzled the side of his neck and sucked in his ashy scent. The tingle his heat sent through her made her giddy with delight.

  Their flight ended too soon. He settled her down behind Dragon Keep, in a quiet location close to the clinic. Dragon couriers flapped in the distance.

  He ran a thumb over the side of her temple, where her fall had bruised her. “I have to go.”

  “No. Don’t.”

  “The longer I’m next to you, the harder it is for me to leave.”

  “Don’t go,” she said. “Not so soon.”

  “I’m sorry, little fire.”

  Pain was always worse when it followed bliss. “I need you.”

  He pulled her into a kiss. She breathed in his presence, trying to ingrain every moment of it in her mind. And then it was over. So quickly. So painfully.

  He parted from her. When he turned his back to her, her world fell apart once again. He took off and was soon nothing more than a speck in the sky.

  She sat alone for what felt like forever.

  “Pumpkin? What in
dragon’s name are you doing sitting here out here all by yourself?” Greta stepped up to her. “What happened to your foot?”

  “I fell,” Constance replied.

  “Come on, let’s get you patched up.” The old woman peeled her from the ground and helped her to the clinic.

  Chapter 10

  I’m sorry about what happened, femriahl,” Shen said, wearing a grave expression as he padded into the clinic.

  “It’s not your fault,” Constance replied.

  She was lying on one of the clinic’s beds. Her foot was wrapped in a cast.

  Shen’s shook his head. “I should have stayed.”

  If he did, then she never would have seen Rayse. She actually preferred it that he hadn’t. A broken foot was a small price to pay to have her mate close again, however brief that moment.

  She coughed. Her chest was hurting from all that wheezing and shortness of breath. Why was her health deteriorating so terribly lately? Sometimes she lost her strength and felt like she could collapse at any moment. She thought that dragon wives were supposed to be immune to most diseases.

  She gave Shen a reassuring smile despite the aching at her left temple. “There’s no need to beat yourself up over it. The worst is over.”

  “Hopefully. I’ve just met Rayse and I don’t think I want another scolding like that anytime soon.” He reached to his back and pulled out a roll of parchment. It was tied with string. “He asked me to give you this.”

  She took it from him. “What is it?”

  “Sparrow-vellum. It’s our only pair of copies. I’m supposed to use it to talk to him should he need to know of anything urgent. He asked me to pass it to you today. I’m not sure why he has this sudden change of heart.”

  “Sparrow-vellum?” Her mouth went dry. The spell to create these objects had been lost years ago. In her hand, she held a kingdom’s worth of treasure. She looked upon the parchment with respect and awe. “This is priceless.” And she could use it to communicate with her mate. “Why didn’t he give it with me before?”