Dragon's First Rule (Dragons of Midnight Book 1)

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Dragon's First Rule (Dragons of Midnight Book 1) Page 6

by Silver Milan


  Ariel felt a twinge of jealousy, thinking about how three women had the privilege of calling Jett husband. Even if they were dragon women.

  “What happened to the wives?” Ariel said.

  Gwendoline shrugged. “They seemed to get on well enough at first, but near the anniversary of their first year together the women destroyed each other.”

  “Nice,” Ariel said.

  Gwendoline shrugged. “Dragon women are known for their jealousy.”

  “So is there anything else you wanted to tell me, or can I go now?” Ariel said.

  “Only one thing,” Gwendoline said. “Remember well our First Rule. It is forbidden for an ordinary shifter or human to lay with a dragon. Do not seduce Jett.”

  “Excuse me?” Ariel said, offended by the words. “I have no intention of seducing him. Who do you think I am? I’m not some random streetwalker.”

  “Aren’t you?” Gwendoline said.

  Ariel fisted her hands at her sides and couldn’t help the growl that escaped her throat. If there hadn’t been an invisible vise containing her lioness, she probably would have transformed.

  “I’m a tradeswoman,” Ariel said slowly, steadily. “And I teach martial arts on weekends. I beat up men. Not seduce them.”

  “Good, because I will not have you taking my brother from me.” With that, Gwendoline turned around. “Let’s go.”

  Ariel felt the choking sensation in her chest, and she hurried to obey if only to breathe again.

  Gwendoline led her from the sepulcher and into a long tunnel that led back to the city proper. Gwendoline took her through the winding streets, which proved empty at that hour. The LEDs embedded in the far ceiling were dimmer, providing just enough light to see by. Ariel thought she saw eyes watching from the shadows in alleyways, and she shivered. Those eyes quickly dispersed whenever Gwendoline, tall and regal in her white dress, glanced their way.

  Eventually the woman led Ariel to the door of her brother’s estate and the two vampire guards on duty bowed.

  “See that the lion reaches the house unmolested,” Gwendoline ordered the pair.

  The tightness lifted from Ariel’s chest, and she knew Gwendoline had revoked the compulsion.

  Ariel glanced at her, but Gwendoline was already walking away. Ariel hurried into the estate; one of the vampires assumed a place beside her in escort. She realized he carried the pistols and swords of a member of the White Swords.

  Jett was waiting in the foyer of the mansion. Shirtless. His chiseled abs and sculpted chest were visible in all their glory thanks to the bright overhead lights within.

  “What did she want with you?” he asked, shutting the door behind Ariel, which caused his large shoulder muscles to ripple.

  “Nothing,” Ariel said. “Is it time to leave?”

  Gwendoline’s words still echoed through her mind.

  Do not seduce him.

  “We’re not leaving yet,” Jett said. “It’s still early morning. We have some hours left.”

  “Too bad,” Ariel said.

  “She showed you the sepulcher?” Jett said. In response to her unanswered question, he added: “Dan told me.”

  “Yes,” Ariel said.

  “What was said between you?” Jett pressed.

  “Why don’t you ask your Dan?” Ariel said.

  “No audio or video recording devices are allowed in the sepulcher,” Jett told her. “It is a sacred place.”

  Ariel bit her lip. She just wanted to be left alone right now. “I told you, she said nothing. Now can I go to my room?”

  He hesitated, then nodded.

  She hurried inside and up the stairs. Dan activated and deactivated the house lights as she went. When she reached the hallway that led to the guest room, she saw that Brazen stood guard.

  “What happened to Flame?” she asked the White Sword.

  “The sire punished him for letting his sister pass,” Brazen replied. His deep voice was stony, emotionless.

  Ariel gulped. “What did Jett do to him?”

  Brazen shrugged. “Flame will live. Though it might be a few weeks before he can fly again.”

  Ariel shook her head. “I hate the thought of someone being punished because of me. Suffering.”

  “Reserve your pity for yourself,” Brazen said. “A few weeks in the immense lifespan of a dragon is a drop in the bucket. The sire could have inflicted far worse.”

  When she got to her room she shut and locked the door. It wouldn’t hold Jett or his White Swords if they really wanted to get in, but so what? At least it gave her the partial illusion of security.

  She lay down and squeezed her eyes shut.

  She dwelled on Flame’s punishment for only a few moments, and then her mind returned to what Jett’s crazy sister had told her.

  Do not seduce him.

  For some reason, those words bothered Ariel. A lot.

  Why do I even care about whether I can or can’t seduce him? Not that I ever would, of course. I’m not that kind of girl. He’s just some random guy, after all.

  Who just so happens to be the king of the dragons. And hot as hell.

  Stop it. Besides, he’s cruel. He punished Flame for no reason.

  Actually, I’m lying to myself if I believe that. He had a pretty big reason: Jett punished Flame because the White Sword let his crazy sister take me.

  Anyway forget it. I’m not going to touch Jett. Or encourage him. As if he’d be interested in me anyway.

  But he’s just so damn hot and alluring...

  She kept swinging back and forth like that in her mind. It was a long time before slumber finally came to her again, and when it did, she slept in short, troubled bursts.

  8

  Morning finally arrived. After breakfast Ariel followed Jett out into the subterranean city. Instead of heading toward the wall of the cavern to begin the long climb to the surface, he proceeded deeper into the city.

  “We’re not leaving?” she said.

  “Not yet,” Jett said.

  Ariel frowned. “More surprises up your sleeve?”

  Jett merely shrugged.

  “Hopefully we’re not going to say goodbye to that crazy sister of yours or something,” Ariel said.

  “We’re not,” Jett said. “And she’s not crazy. Just… eccentric.”

  “Yeah, I guess living in a subterranean city all your life can have that effect,” Ariel said. “You know, she used that power of yours on me.”

  “What power?” Jett asked.

  “The invisible clamp around my lungs, choking me if I tried to disobey…” Ariel replied.

  “Ah,” Jett said. “That power. Yes, she has it.”

  “You never did explain what it was,” Ariel said. “This ‘compulsion.’ Some kind of dragon spell, or Weave as you call it?”

  “Not really,” he told her. “More of an Ability. Only the most powerful dragons have it.”

  “I want you to promise me you’ll never use it on me again,” Ariel said, crossing her arms under her breasts.

  Jett studied her, seemingly conflicted. Finally, he slumped slightly. “That’s a promise I can’t make at the moment.”

  “Bastard,” she said softly.

  He guided her to a quaint estate set well apart from the others. The exterior walls that girded the estate were not coated in precious metals or gems, and the gray stone remained bare.

  “Is this one of the dwarf estates or something?” Ariel asked.

  “I assure you, the resident is a dragon,” Jett replied.

  “Then why so… ordinary?” Ariel said.

  “This particular dragon is not a fan of ostentation,” Jett explained. “At least, not in the typical sense.”

  Beyond the gate, a small footbridge crossed a shimmering pool to a tiny island, where a giant mushroom grew from the ground. There was a door built into the side of the mushroom.

  “What the hell is that?” Ariel said.

  “The home of our resident witch,” Jett told her. “She i
s an ancient, powerful creature. Stronger even than me. Not physically, mind you, but because of the powers at her beck and call. She has something I’ll need if I’m going to travel among the humans.”

  Inside, spongy walls partitioned the giant mushroom’s interior into different rooms. The furnishings were spartan: a few hard-backed wooden chairs next to low tables, some shelves, some counters, the occasional closet. There were no TVs, computers, or kitchen appliances—none of the amenities of a modern home.

  There was, however, a library packed to the seams with bookshelves.

  “You should really introduce your witch friend to an ereader,” Ariel told him.

  “You can’t get any of these books in digital form, trust me,” Jett said.

  The inside seemed bigger than the exterior, and only after passing many rooms did Jett reach his destination.

  Within a smaller chamber, a woman sat at a table reading a book. She looked nothing like Ariel would have expected a witch to look like. Ariel had imagined a black gown with a matching pointy hat and broomstick, or maybe a hooded blue robe and a staff topped by a glowing gem. But instead, she saw a young girl who appeared to be no more than seventeen, dressed in business casual: a knee-length black skirt, with a black blazer fitted neatly over a white dress shirt. She wore dark-rimmed glasses and shiny black shoes.

  More shelves covered the walls there, those filled with strange artifacts, not books. Tribal masks. Twisted wands and staffs. Creepy statuettes. Jeweled scabbards.

  Ariel found her gaze drawn to a pair of intricately carved gauntlets beside her. They were pure white, though slightly porous, which made her believe they were made of bone.

  Without looking up, the woman answered the question that was on the tip of Ariel’s tongue: “Those are the gauntlets some wear to help with the Weaving. I need no such contrivances, of course, being a dragon.”

  “This is Ephephany,” Jett said to Ariel. “Our resident witch.”

  “Why don’t dragons need gauntlets?” Ariel asked.

  “We dragons can siphon the Strength directly through our bones,” Ephephany said. “Those of us with the ability, anyway. Humans and shifters who have the ability to Siphon can do so only while touching the bones of a dragon. This is why you’ll never see a human witch, or Wayfarer as they like to call themselves, without some sort of staff or gauntlet or something touching their skin. Made of dragon bone, of course.”

  Ariel stared at the gauntlets in a new light, feeling slightly disgusted at the revelation. “I’m surprised these human witches you mentioned don’t hunt you for your bones, then.”

  “They have no need,” Ephephany said. “We freely give the witches the bodies of our dead to stave off that very thing. And not just any bodies mind you, but those of us who were powerful in the Strength while living. The witches revert the carcasses to dragon form so that they have ample bone to carve. Someday I will experience a similar fate, my bones scattered across the world and shaped into staffs and accessories to satisfy the needs of non-dragon witches.” Ephephany finally glanced up from her thick tome. “In any case, I’m sure Jeddah didn’t come here for your education. Or re-education, as it were. What can I do you for, Jeddah?”

  “I’ll be traveling outside Midnight City,” Jett said.

  “Ah.” She stood. “You’ll be wanting the vise, then. Come with me.”

  “Wait here,” Jett told Ariel. “And don’t touch anything.”

  Ephephany arched an eyebrow at his words, but then turned around and vanished into an adjacent room. Jett followed her.

  Ariel tiptoed to the doorframe and peered past. Ephephany and Jett stood in a room that was filled with even more artifacts.

  “You care for her?” Ephephany said softly.

  Jett glanced toward the doorway and Ariel quickly ducked from view.

  Shit!

  But apparently he hadn’t seen her, because he replied, just as quietly: “I do. What happened to her wasn’t right.”

  “You could try being less bossy around her,” Ephephany told him. “Especially if you plan to bring her into the territory of our vassals. I know you can’t help it—you’re used to people leaping to attention on your every word. But still, it could help smooth things over for you if you asked her if she wanted to do something once in a while, rather than ordering it.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Jett said.

  “How long are you planning on being outside Midnight?” Ephephany asked.

  “Not long,” Jett said. “A few days max.”

  Ariel summoned the nerve to slowly peer past the doorframe once more. She saw that Ephephany was studying him critically, hands on the hips of her black skirt.

  “You’re not trying to escape your duty, are you?” Ephephany said.

  “Not at all,” Jett said. “I will return.”

  “You remember what I told you, many many years ago before you were crowned?”

  “Of course I remember,” Jett said.

  “Then tell me.”

  He sighed, and when he spoke, his voice seemed even softer. “You told me: ‘You are destined to lead. You might try to escape it, but no matter where you go, you will rule.’”

  “Yes, good,” Ephephany said. “I wanted to make sure you hadn’t forgotten.”

  “Duty is a garment I wear tight around my breast every day,” Jett said. “It’s not something I can forget.”

  “And yet I can see the struggle clearly inside of you,” Ephephany said. “You would give it up, if you could.”

  Jett didn’t have anything to say to that.

  “Turn around.” Ephephany ordered. She held a thin collar in her hands. It was made of smooth, featureless silver, with a clasp on one end.

  “You have no compunctions about ordering me around, I see,” Jett said.

  “Why would I?” Ephephany replied.

  Jett reluctantly turned.

  Ephephany set the collar around his neck then shoved the clasp closed. The collar seemed to shrink, tightening around his neck.

  “I forgot how uncomfortable these things are,” Jett said. He tried to pry at it, but couldn’t get his fingers underneath the tight rim.

  Ephephany glanced toward the door; once again Ariel ducked from view.

  She was certain she’d been spotted that time. Sure enough:

  “Come here, child, I know you’re watching,” Ephephany said.

  There was no compulsion in that voice, which Ariel appreciated.

  Reluctantly, Ariel stuck her head past the edge and then approached. She studied the thin band around Jett’s neck. “What did you do to him?”

  “This collar is an extension of the Weave that envelopes Midnight City,” Ephephany said. “It will prevent him from transforming while it is worn, no matter how far away from the city he travels. As required by treaty, all dragons must wear one outside such domains. He will still have his innate strength and resiliency, though none of his other dragon Abilities.”

  “Well that’s handy,” Ariel said. “An anti-change collar… I don’t suppose I can get one? Then I’ll finally be able to return to civilization.”

  “Unfortunately,” Ephephany said, “because of the concentration of power packed into such a tiny space, you’d need the resiliency of a dragon to survive the suppressive effect. Wearing the collar for longer than a few minutes would kill you.”

  “Damn,” Ariel said. “I knew it was too easy.”

  “By the way, you’ll be happy to know he can’t use his compulsion Ability while wearing this particular collar,” Ephephany said.

  “That is good news,” Ariel said.

  Jett scowled at the witch. “I thought we agreed—“

  “We agreed on nothing,” Ephephany snapped. “You know the rules of the treaty. You signed it!”

  Jett sighed. “Very well.”

  Ephephany handed Ariel a mallet and chisel. “Take this.”

  Ariel accepted the items uncertainly. “Why?”

  “Usually, the collar can
only be removed by the proper Weave,” Ephephany told her. “Our friend Jett certainly won’t be able to break it off even with his latent dragon strength. However, I’ve left a back door. With this special mallet and chisel, dear child, you can release our mutual friend. But only in times of great need, do you understand?”

  Ariel nodded slowly.

  “Let me show you where to strike,” the witch said.

  Ephephany pointed out a small, featureless area at the base of the collar, behind Jett’s neck.

  “There is a release lever here that can be triggered only with this particular mallet and chisel,” Ephephany said. “Try it.”

  Ariel placed the pointed tip of the chisel on the designated spot—at least she thought that was the spot, since there were no markings or other indicators whatsoever on the smooth surface—and then slammed the mallet into the base. Vibrations passed through the chisel and up into her hand, jarring her, but the collar didn’t open. She half expected Jett’s head to sway under the force of the blow, but he remained completely motionless. It was like she had struck a rock.

  She tried again. Still no luck opening the thing—she succeeded only in jolting her arm.

  “Well, it takes some practice,” Ephephany said. “Which you can do on your own time. Now, if you don’t mind, I was in the middle of some reading…”

  Ariel stuffed the mallet and chisel into the backpack Jett had provided her with.

  After some final words with the witch, Jett led Ariel from the mushroom and they crossed the footbridge toward the borders of the estate.

  “Well that was interesting,” Ariel said.

  “Visits to the witch always are,” Jett replied. He scratched at the collar, as if it itched or was too tight.

  “How’s it feel?” Ariel asked.

  “You wouldn’t enjoy it,” Jett replied.

  As they passed from the estate and into the street beyond, he said: “Did you know that those dragons with the ability to siphon the Strength are among the most powerful witches in the world?”

 

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