Frost Fire (A Novel of the Dracol Book 3)

by Michelle Howard

  Her stride was long and confident like the woman. She was all swiveling hips, rounded breasts and long, lean legs he’d grown used to having about his waist.

  And her hair. Faris’ pulse kicked up a notch. The tangle of red streaked with blonde fell below her back and almost touched the belt around her waist when out of the restrained braid she currently wore. He loved her hair, in bed and out.

  The group’s trek crossed his spot. Rena walked by only feet away, no clue he devoured the sight of her with a hunger only matched by a starving man alone too long with nothing but memories. Donal tugged on the end of her braid, the look in his eyes knowing. Familiar. Filled with knowledge that only came from intimacy.

  Donal knew what it felt like to wrap the strands of red fire about his hands. The heat in the male’s stare said he also knew what Rena sounded like when she found her release.

  Anger flared in Faris like a living breathing entity. It grew from a mild flame in the pit of his gut to a rampant blaze bordering on out of control. Losing control was not acceptable.

  Cold seeped into his blood immediately, shutting off the dangerous build of emotion. Bit by bit, frost froze everything inside him but the determined beat of his heart.

  A heart which remained steady and kept the thread of sanity from snapping because Faris loved. He loved and had been loved.

  Then he’d somehow, accidentally, fucked it all up.

  ***

  Faris was absent again. Rena glanced around the recognition dinner for their hunting prowess. On this last raid of the season, she and her party came back with meat and stores to last for several months. Usually, there was a week of drink and late nights to celebrate such success.

  In the past, Faris put in an appearance to congratulate the hunters. Sometimes he stayed and laughed at the bawdy humor, complimented his people or reassured the elderly while playing with the young. Concentrating, Rena tried to remember the last time he had put in a public appearance.

  She mentally flipped through ceremonies and get-togethers. Nothing came to mind. It seemed he stayed away from a lot of events lately.

  Rena had expected him tonight though. The last hunt coincided with the moon rising to honor the Goddess of Fate. The king always showed for the red moon celebration. This would be Faris’ first time missing one ever.

  Keeping her gaze casual, she scanned the circle of friends and family present. Mini campfires throughout the village burned bright to ward off the mild cold air. It was unseasonably warm for this time of year in the mountains, but the late nights still had a bite to them.

  Maybe she needed to stop thinking of Faris. Admittedly it was hard to do when everyone was pairing up to share their bodies for the night.

  Rena leaned back against the large rock she used as a backrest, legs stretched out and feet crossed at the ankle. She huddled beneath furs thrown about her shoulders and tried not to let concern outweigh the alcohol making its way through her system. She deserved to relax and enjoy the night.

  Donal sat next to her with a loud grunt as his body hit the ground and he drew closer than she preferred. “What’s wrong, Rena?”

  “Nothing.” Rena lied and tipped her head up to stare at the moon. The red glow cast a sheen on the ground in the same vivid shade.

  Donal’s voice dropped lower. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

  Rena risked a glance in his direction. He was a handsome male. “What’s him?”

  He met her gaze and snorted before turning away and leaning back, arms folded over his chest. The move placed them shoulder to shoulder against the rock. “Rena the frozen hearted. That’s what they call you.”

  She didn’t like that one bit.

  “Whispers claim there was a man in your past, who broke your heart, but damned if anyone knows who he is. I’ve watched you interact with males on a daily basis and you don’t treat any of us differently. Yet, from experience, I know you hold a part of yourself back. For him.”

  Rena sighed and closed her eyes. In a drunken night she regretted with every fiber of her being, she’d slept with Donal. It had happened six months ago after a run in with Faris.

  It shouldn’t have bothered her the way he’d dismissed her. She’d had ample practice getting used to Faris’ bland stares and blank expression. Not by a twitch or gentle touch did he give away a sign that they’d once been more to one another. In a bout of weakness, she’d cornered him while musicians played and members of their sect danced.

  “Do you miss it?” she asked, catching the side of his silver vest before he could walk by her.

  Faris had stopped, glanced down and eased her fingers away. His mouth curved up on the right in a lopsided grin that shouldn’t have been sexy but was. His amber stare pinned her to the spot. “Miss what?”

  Rena had trembled. Was he for real? What game did he play? “Us. Do you ever miss us?”

  Then he’d delivered a blow more painful than any weapon she could have designed in her forge. He cupped her chin in his hand, lifted her face and countered in a voice dripping in pure ice, “What was there to miss?”

  No words came to her. Faris caressed her skin with the soft brush of his thumb, a mockery of what they’d shared, and let go. He didn’t wait for her answer. Just turned and strode away as if she was no one to him.

  That was the night she fell into bed with Donal, but it had taken only the one time to know she should not have. He’d been attracted to her before. Sex made it worse. As soon as she woke the next morning, Rena regretted it. Donal begged to see her again, leaving her no choice, but to apologize profusely.

  Oh, Rena had had lovers since the fateful day Faris sent her away after becoming king. Six to be exact. Donal had been the last. Her first in seven years though and she wished she’d kept to her dry spell. Nothing could touch the deep well of hurt caused by a man who’d promised his love to her then taken it away without warning.

  “Rena?” Donal’s voice and the touch of his cold finger on her cheek brought Rena back to the present.

  She jerked her face away. “You’re mistaken. There is no him.”

  Twenty years ago, there’d been Faris. None made the connection because Faris had completely and utterly obliterated her from his life. The mantle gave him the ability and he’d hazed the memory from all, relegating it to one of little import.

  Rena smiled to herself. He’d been successful in making everyone else forget except her. He’d tried. She’d felt the insidious crawl of him in her mind through the mantle and had shoved back so hard, she’d sensed his shock. She wrapped what they’d been in layers and layers of shielding.

  What they’d shared was hers and she’d never give him the right to take it. To her relief and surprise, he’d backed off and she swore to this day, he’d kissed her on the lips as he let the memory stay.

  Of course, maybe that was her weakness putting a shine on what he’d done. If they were in a room together, Faris treated her no different than any in the sect. Those who vaguely recalled them together viewed their relationship as the usual First fire romance where males and females assuaged their heat and sexual need freely. But they had been more.

  So much more and to this day, Rena didn’t think she would ever love another the way she had loved Faris.

  Still loved him.

  Chapter 3

  Continuous spasms in his right hand caused Faris to drop the pen and ink he’d been using to send a missive to Rylin of the Black. This was the third time since the night of the red moon. There was a fraying to the edges of control over the madness that Faris had taken for granted. The past week had not been good and the newest hand trembles were a sign of that.

  He staggered to his feet as a familiar refrain began. Low whispers. Pleas to commit violence.

  Kill. Maim. Destroy.

  Not his thoughts.

  “Not my thoughts,” Faris said aloud to ground him.

  He listed heavily to the side, dragging his hand on the wall as he made his way from his office down the hall toward his
bedroom. Voices hammered inside his head every step of the way. Brutal visions of females and males savaged by teeth and claws played in a seamless sequence. Abhorrent acts in vivid detail ran in a non-stop loop through his mind.

  The mantle trembled under this new onslaught and Faris worked hard to still the evil urges. He understood at his core that these were not his thoughts or wishes. The madness only wanted him to believe that. All consuming, it wanted to drown Faris with its unnatural desires until he gave in or broke.

  It happened to the Black, sending one of their own on a murderous rampage. Recently the Green had one of their own attack an unborn child. It didn’t take much to realize the disease was spreading through the sects. And spreading within him.

  The last meeting with the four Kings of the Dracol had been eye opening. Faris confessed what he’d been battling for the last several months. Madness. It had a firm hold on his mind and what had once been sporadic became daily. Not even Simeon knew the truth.

  Only his fellow Kings. And Faris had only touched on the surface of what he tackled each rise of morning and fall of night. Containing it was becoming an endless fight. One he no longer was sure to win.

  Agony exploded from his temple and worked its way down his spine as he entered his bedroom. Faris bit his tongue to hold in the scream of pain and fell face first onto his bed. Muscles rigid, he lay there bombarded by false images of death, cries and pleas for mercy.

  The mantle struggled to provide balance, to aid Faris in a swell of power. Instead, he became bloated with the force of it, the brilliance setting him on fire from the inside. His back arched on a strangled scream.

  The madness gorged on the surfeit of energy. In his efforts to resist, Faris unwittingly fed the hungry beast. What started as a tiny nugget grew into a dark vortex of negative space housed within his core.

  In the past, these spells of horror lasted for brief moments. Moments he hid from everyone as he convulsed wherever he fell. This episode was different.

  Very different.

  His inner Dracol screeched and scales of silver tinted with hints of black lined his arms from shoulder to wrists in a partial shift. Faris twisted to his back, panting as he slammed up a mental partition between the mantle and his people. Blocking them from the danger attempting to drag him under.

  Must protect was his last coherent thought.

  Everything turned into a spiraling cycle Faris couldn’t escape. Death, pain, bloodshed. Death, pain, bloodshed. Deathpainbloodshed.

  A maniacal chuckle slipped past Faris’ lips, the deep bass sound scaring him as nothing else ever had.

  More than when he’d been chosen by the mantle and ravaged by bone-numbing pain.

  More than when he’d forced himself to turn his back on the possibility of a future with Rena.

  Faris bit down hard on his tongue, the jolt of pain barely helping. As darkness encroached, his ability to reason faded. Disoriented, he swiveled his head to the side, staring at the wall across from his bed. His vision of the room tilted, streaks of red coloring his vision. Rumbled growls interlaced with snarls of rage broke free from his mouth.

  With mounting fear, Faris realized if he didn’t do something drastic, he’d doom the Silver. He needed something strong enough to shield him from succumbing. One tangible thing to hold on to.

  “Please,” he mumbled, fingers clenching on the sheets beneath him as he arched again, spine twisting as a low whimper escaped.

  The Goddess of Fate must have been listening. Her help came in a way he didn’t expect. One guaranteed to affect him. An image of Rena appeared from the last night they’d shared together. Surrounded by the brown and white fur on his bed she teased him as he knelt between her legs and kissed her inner thigh.

  ‘What are you about?’

  He arched a brow, gaze dipping to the glistening folds at her center then glancing back up. It seemed pretty obvious to him. ‘What do you think?’

  Rena chuckled, swiping at the tangle of red-gold hair hanging over succulent pale pink nipples. She tucked strands behind her ear then propped up on her elbows to stare back at him, head tipped at a sassy angle. Her lips pursed in humor. ‘I think you should come up here and let me hold you.’

  Faris ducked his head to hide his smile and placed another kiss higher up, closer to his end goal. ‘I have not finished what I came down here to do, amans.’

  Lover. His sweet lover. The only he knew.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to kiss me?” she asked, lids lowered to give him a seductive look.

  Faris slid up further, face only inches away from her puffy outer lips. ‘Oh, I’ll be kissing you, don’t worry.”

  Then he buried his face in her wet core and sucked her swollen clit. Rena’s hands dove into his hair, yanking on the loosened black length. Faris licked, sucked and teased, passion’s moisture trickling into his mouth.

  Faris consumed every drop, the scent and taste of Rena filling him. Her release hit hard and she screamed his name. He clamped his hands on her rocking thighs about his head and rode the wave with her only slowing down when her cries changed to broken gasps and half-whispered promises of eternal love.

  Love. For that moment, that frozen place in time, Faris held Rena’s love and it was that love which broke his mind free.

  Faris sat up with a jerk, chest heaving. He braced his hands beside his trembling thighs and exhaled in shaky breaths. The scales on his arms faded, but the horror of what almost was lingered. Faris checked the mantle, a quick reassuring touch to confirm none of his people had been touched by what he’d suffered.

  Gliding over the minds and skimming the surface thoughts, he sensed calm. They were at ease. But for how long? How long before Faris couldn’t pull himself from the abyss and turned on his sect in a killing rampage?

  ***

  “Are you sure you can’t stay longer?”

  Rena smiled at her mother and leaned over the table to kiss her father on the cheek. “The meal was good as always, but I have to get back and add the finishing touches on the hammer I promised Jakob. I also promised Sian I’d have the etchings done on the flails he ordered for his brother.”

  Her mother’s mouth twisted at her recital, causing Rena and her father to exchange a knowing glance. Talya would never understand Rena’s dedication to her craft as the weapons master for the Silver. She’d prefer her only daughter take up her skills in the kitchen and put them to good use.

  That was never going to be the path Rena chose. She’d been fascinated with weapons and the making of them since her father introduced her to the old weapons master for the Silver. The blade Cass had let her create had been full of notches with a flimsy handle and not good for much use. But it lit a fire in Rena’s blood and she’d wanted to do nothing else since.

  King Tora had recognized her skills during her training years and when Cass stepped down, he put Rena in charge. She couldn’t imagine doing anything else now. Hunting and tracking wild game only occupied a portion of her time. Her true passion was taking a design and listening to a member of her sect explain what they’d like and making it happen.

  “I hope we’ll see you tomorrow,” Talya added as Rena made her way to the door.

  Rena threw up her hand in a farewell wave and made her escape. She visited her parents a lot, but it was never going to be enough for her mother since Rena was the only child of theirs to live past the shell. She understood the effect it had on her mother and did her best to be a dutiful daughter—when possible. Definitely not to the detriment of her own dreams. Her father fully understood this and supported Rena.

  Rena headed in the direction of the forge at a brisk pace, arms swinging at her side. Snow and patches of ice dotted the walkway and trails which splintered toward the many houses clustered together to form their village.

  The air held a crisp snap warning of more snowfall. It wasn’t unusual to have waves of cold right before the full winter season hit. It didn’t bother Rena. She inhaled deeply, letting the familiar chill
ease tense muscles. She wore a long sleeve woven shirt beneath her fur lined vest and slid her hands into the comfortable side slits of the vest. Pockets were a gift she’d never stop appreciating.

  “Rena! Rena, wait!”

  Heart light, she almost missed hearing her name. Rena twisted about, slowing her step to let Shela and Mari, her best friends, catch up with her on the path.

  “Have you heard?” Mari asked breathlessly, her blonde hair bouncing from its long tail.

  People often thought her friendship with Mari to be the most unlikely. Her friend was short, full of curves with a sweet personality just short of annoying. As children, Rena often stepped in to stop others from pushing Mari about. Her friend didn’t have an aggressive bone in her body nor did her inner Dracol.

  Shela was more like Rena in temperament. The two of them didn’t hesitate when their First Fire struck. They both had been eager to see what sex was about. Then Faris happened.

  Rena immediately shoved thoughts of Faris to the back of her mind. “Have I heard what?”

  “King Varyk of the Green is to mate with Inez of the Black.” Mari’s added eye roll gave her thoughts on the match.

  “I can’t imagine any female willing to put up with the Green King’s abrasive ways.” Shela smoothed back her dark hair buzzed on both sides.

  Rena hid her wince. If someone as rude as King Varyk could find a lira, what was wrong with her?

  Mari bumped shoulders with Rena and grinned up at her. The four-inch difference in their height meant Mari’s neck had to tip back a little for their eyes to meet. “Where are you headed?”

  “The forge.”

  “The forge.”

  Shela answered at the same time as Rena, earning her a mild push as Rena gave in to chuckles. She probably did spend an inordinate amount of time at work. But it wasn’t a hardship. For Rena it was an irresistible song which sometimes drove her from her bed in the middle of the night to work on a piece or to finish a design.

  “I have a lot of catching up to do,” Rena said.