by Alexis Davie
Cursed Dragon
Dragon Curse of Lunca
Alexis Davie
Cursed Dragon
Text Copyright © 2019 by Alexis Davie
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
First printing, 2019
Publisher
Secret Woods Books
[email protected]
www.SecretWoodsBooks.com
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Other Books You Will Love
Thank You!
About the Author
Prologue
2981 BC
Lunca
Romania
Smoke rose up against the spiraled stone ceilings of the Lunca Palace and the smell of sulphur was putrid enough to suffocate even the strongest of men. Frantic orders were screamed over the sounds of explosions, shaking the grounds of the palace, but it did not deter the agile female figure from dashing through the hallways. Draped in a luxurious silver velvet hooded cape, her identity remained concealed only to those whom did not know her.
To those who did, she was Liris Veskovic, the Queen of Lunca.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she leapt over a large crevice in the floor, and as the floor crumbled behind her at a rapid pace, she knew what she had to do. There was no other way.
Out of the corner of her teal eyes, an unnatural movement caused her to turn around and her heart sank. Rhaena the Wicked, was closing in on the royal hatchery, and the Queen knew she had to stop her. There was only one reason – or four – why the witch had caused this much destruction to the palace, but the Queen would rather perish herself, than allow that fate.
The Queen leapt onto the stone ledge and threw herself into the air, her silver cloak glimmering behind her. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she raced after Rhaena.
The stone wall of the hatchery exploded into fragments of different sizes, flying by the Queen’s face, but she managed to dodge them every time. The determination and resilience coursed through her veins, and gained on Rhaena.
The Queen stepped into the hatchery, which was eerily quiet and scanned the cave-like room. Flames erupted from a corner and Rhaena appeared, her staff violently flashing bolts of lightning.
“You will not take them,” the Queen bellowed, her sharp voice edging through the room, through the echoes of chaos and turmoil which besieged the palace.
“There is nothing you can do to stop me, Liris,” Rhaena shrieked, as she raised her staff, aiming it at the crystal nest in the center of the room.
The Queen’s eyes flashed viciously as she leapt towards Rhaena, only to be deflected by the witch’s staff. She fell onto the marble floor but immediately rose to her feet.
“You cannot do this, Rhaena,” the Queen called out to her, but the witch did not acknowledge her.
A piercing yellow light spewed from the staff, directly at the nest. The Queen ran towards the nest with complete and utter abandonment, ignoring her sensible thoughts. Her instincts had overpowered her rational thinking, and now she would fight to the death if needed.
The Queen’s eyes flashed once more, and the stone wall behind Rhaena instantly crumbled. Stones fell onto the old witch and the staff broke in half, vanquishing the yellow ray of evil which descended onto the nest.
It was quiet for a moment as the Queen carefully and slowly approached Rhaena, cowering under a large rock which pinned her to the ground.
“I tried to warn you, Rhaena,” the Queen uttered, no emotions on her beautiful face, her golden hair whipping in the wind.
As she stepped closer, she heard Rhaena muttering words she knew too well, having heard them before many times. “Rhaena, no!”
Red smoke flowed from Rhaena’s fingertip and whirled towards the nest.
“Stop!” the Queen ordered.
With her final seconds of life, Rhaena flicked her wrist, and the red smoke suddenly vanished. Her hand went limp, followed by a low rumble under the Queen’s feet.
Then silence.
Deafening silence which shook the Queen to the core. She rushed over to the nest, glanced down at the four dragon eggs before her. Blue, red, purple and silver, they were all there, and unharmed.
Physically at least.
Footsteps, which were the same pace as her heartbeats, grew louder in the hallway, and Arlo Veskovic, the King of Lunca, and her beloved husband rushed into the hatchery.
“Are you all right, my dearest?” he asked as he touched her shoulders and his eyes trailed over her body.
“I am fine, Arlo,” the Queen insisted. “Rhaena on the other hand...”
The King looked to where the body of the witch lay on the floor, still pinned to the ground by a large boulder. “You killed her.”
“She was going to harm them,” the Queen said and motioned to the eggs.
“But they are unharmed,” the King stated.
The Queen bit her lip and shook her head. “I had to stop her, but I was too late. She…”
“She what?” the King asked. “What did she do?”
“She cursed them.”
The King glanced at the eggs and his lips snarled in anger, his brow furrowing heavily as he glanced back at the Queen. “There is no need to worry, my love. They will be strong and fierce. No curse can compete with that.”
The King gently wiped a tear from under the Queen’s eye, but a soft crackling sound made both the King and Queen turn to the nest.
“It has begun,” the Queen gasped and a tender smile formed on her lips. “Our children are ready.”
1
Present Day
London, England
The last notes of the guitar faded into silence before a well-deserved applause filled the bar, occasional cheers sounding from an overzealous fan, or an intoxicated one. The middle-aged man on the stage raised his hand in gratitude before disappearing out of the spotlight with his guitar. There was a cheerful and relaxed atmosphere in Echoes that evening, and it showed on the faces of its patrons. The lights on stage faded to black and the entire bar was immersed in darkness, apart from the lights behind the bar, casting a red and green glow as the silhouette of the bartenders moved across the length of it, serving the patrons.
Nyx stepped onto the stage, the leather strap of his guitar across his back, the dark gray guitar against his chest. Perching himself up on the wooden stool, he reached for the microphone stand and brought it closer. His gaze was still cast down to the floor, and he took a deep breath as a few cheers echoed through the bar. Tiny lights from lighters and phones waved around slowly and Nyx smiled at the crowd. They knew exactly what was coming. He strummed his guitar strings and a sweet melody filled the quiet bar. He took another breath, which could also be heard through the microphone, and his soothing, deep voice filled the bar as he sang of a love he had not yet encountered. The audience was in awe, their eyes sparkling with every word he sang and their gazes frozen on him, but he was elsewhere. His eyes were closed, in his own little world, and even though it seemed as though he took no notice of his surroundings or the occasional cheers from the crowd, being on st
age was the only place he truly felt at home.
The only place where he felt he belonged, which was a miracle in itself, especially after almost five thousand years of feeling out of place and searching for that sense of belonging.
Nyxon Veskovic was one of the sons of the Dragon King and Queen of Lunca, Romania, although they had not resided in Lunca for thousands of years. He was born on the same day as his three other brothers, although he was only third to hatch, making him the second youngest of the Dragon Princes. After the last Great War in Romania, and after a brief stay in Russia, they had scattered like the leaves on a windy day. They were tired of the wars, tired of the persecution, and mostly tired of having to fall in line with the orders of their father. Nyx was also tired of being associated with his father, carrying his last name as his lifelong burden.
This was why Nyx loved London, where he could hide under the gray skies and the smoke of the city, completely undetected by anyone, or anything, that might want to kill him.
Being a Veskovic definitely had its advantages, but with everything, there was always a set of equal, if not worse, disadvantages. His father had not been one of the noblest rulers in Romania, and was often seen and perceived as cruel and wicked. The Dragon King’s tolerance for disobedience was extremely low and he did not take very well to any form of defiance. Nyx was not rebellious in any way; he often purposely blended in and did as the masses were told, simply just to seem invisible. As he grew older, he had learned to develop his ability to its fullest, and it worked.
Nyx was a smoke dragon, capable of smoke-screening people into thinking he was someone he wasn’t. It came in especially handy when people knew his family, especially if those people were the Gifted Immortals—wolf shifters, vampires, witches, and all the other shifters which existed. The witches were probably the most sought after, as some of them had the ability to turn humans into shifters, which was dangerous when not controlled. There had been several instances where witches were abducted and used to make armies of Immortal Shifters, and it always ended in blood and chaos, with more casualties than intended.
The loss of lives was staggering when it came to revenge plots against another species, and Nyx shuddered thinking about it.
Instead he immersed himself in his music, even if it was only during the night. By day, Nyx’s life wasn’t nearly as interesting as the nightlife of London. Upon first glance, Nyx would not strike anyone as the musician type, nor the Immortal Dragon Prince type either. It was one of his talents as a Smoke Dragon, after all. But if there was one thing he did not need to do, it was to pretend he had an amazing singing voice. He had been told many times, by many people throughout his life, that he had an amazing musical talent.
In all other areas, he was quite ordinary, or so he made everyone else believe.
Nyx was the owner of a designer men’s clothing store. While he was impeccably dressed at work, he had a much more casual style for these types of gigs. In the smoky bar lit up by flickers of lit lighters, pouring his heart out into song, was a very different Nyx. His worn jeans were faded, contrasting against the dark gray of his T-shirt. His black boots tapped rhythmically on the floor, in perfect beat with the song he sang. They were his own words, and he knew the song so well he did not even need to think about it. It flowed so naturally from his mouth, allowing his emotions to spill out of him onto his audience. He belted out the notes, filling up with emotions he knew he’d never feel toward another person, but instead the feelings of longing assisted him with his execution.
And it worked.
He sang the last notes of the song, dropping his hand away from the strings of his guitar. There was a moment of silence before the inside of the bar erupted in applause, cheers, and whistling.
For the first time since he stepped on stage, he opened his eyes and glanced up at the crowd. His gray eyes sparkled as he scanned the room and a smile formed on his lips.
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” he spoke into the microphone and winked at the audience. “I’ll be back soon.”
Nyx ran his free hand through his hair as he retreated off the small stage and placed his guitar in its case, before heading to the bar. The bartender, Josh, stood behind the bar as Nyx approached and grinned at him.
“Nice song, Nyx,” he told him.
Nyx gave him a nod and placed his hands on the bar. “Thanks. Did it sound okay? I felt a little off-pitch tonight.”
Josh rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. You can’t sound off-pitch even if you tried.”
Nyx shrugged and looked down at the bar.
“What’ll it be, Nyx?” Josh asked.
Nyx would be naturally inclined to order himself a whiskey, or a bourbon, or even a tequila—any hard liquor, in fact—but after his rapid decline into an alcohol-induced downward spiral, Nyx had vowed that he would never go down that road again. It had been three months since his last drink and although he missed it, he knew that his life was better off without it. Being sober was difficult, but living in a constant state where he did not give a fuck was not so good either. He was better than that, he knew it. He just had to push through.
Josh handed him a bottle of water and he sat down by the bar. Echoes was filling up fast as people came in from the outside, attracted to the music inside like moths to a flame.
The following act, a young woman with a soft and shy voice, started to sing, and Nyx quietly sat at the bar, drinking his water as he gazed somewhere into the distance, pensively clenching and unclenching his jaw.
His eyes fell on a young couple sitting at a table close to the stage. The guy had his arms wrapped lovingly around his girlfriend from behind, and her head rested against his chest. They wore goofy and dreamy smiles as they listened to the young blonde woman on stage. Angelic sounds filled the bar, which created a soothing atmosphere. Lit lighters and mobile phones swayed around in the dark as the patrons inside Echoes fully appreciated the undiscovered talents on its stage.
That was what Nyx loved about the people who frequented Echoes. Their appreciation for talent. Their support for the undiscovered. Their love for music. Their commitment to being there every Thursday night.
Nyx’s gaze lowered to nothing in particular and he took another sip of water. It had been such a long time since he had embraced someone the way the guy was holding his girlfriend, but then again, Nyx had never truly felt enough for anyone to keep them that close. Nyx did not have trouble getting the attention of women, as he was a good-looking young man who looked like he was in his mid-twenties. He had light gray eyes which reflected light in the most amazing way, almost like a rainbow of emotions inside his mind. His eyes were mostly in correlation with the emotions he felt at a specific moment. His eyes would turn stormy and dark when he felt angry or frustrated, or a bright gray like the skies of London on a winter’s morning. His pensive stares were frequent, especially lately, as he tried to figure himself out.
To people who knew him, although they were very few and far between, he was an open book, but to most he was difficult to figure out.
Nyx had loved music even before he could properly talk, as his mother had sung to him when the nights were dark and the shadows were threatening. Her voice was what soothed him back to a peaceful sleep, into the clear skies of his dreams.
Reality was not always so perfect, especially after his family had to retreat to Russia, where he and his brothers had numerous encounters with the wolves. It had certainly not been a smooth ride, but Nyx was content in the life he had now.
There was, however, one area that was lacking, and this frustrated him.
As much as Nyx wanted to find someone to share his life with, it was not possible, as a witch had ensured this would not happen.
Rhaena the Wicked, a descendant of Livia Ambrosias, one of the most powerful witches in the world since the beginning of time, had cursed the four Dragon Princes when they were still encased in their dragon eggs, five thousand years ago. Since the Dragon King had ensured that her coven was destroyed,
Rhaena had decided the same fate should rest upon his family. There had been numerous attempts to destroy the four eggs, but she had not succeeded. During a stormy evening, Rhaena cast a powerful spell over the Dragon King and Queen’s palace in Lunca, causing fire to rain down from the sky and conjuring specters to destroy the palace, as the king had destroyed her coven.
Rhaena managed to make her way to the royal hatchery, where the four eggs lay, nestled in a golden nest. She was interrupted by the Dragon Queen, who then sacrificed her Life Thread to save her four sons. The very essence of her being and her immortality were shortened by thousands of years, but the Dragon Queen could not think of a worthier cause than her children. Rhaena did manage to place a powerful curse upon them, a curse which lasted five thousand years, but also never truly vanished. For five thousand years, each of the four Dragon Princes would not find their True Mate, the person they would spend the rest of their lives with, the person they would instantly bond with, instantly fall in love with, and would instantly do anything to keep them safe. And even if the princes did manage to find their True Mates after the five millennia passed, they would still be at risk of hurting or even killing them in the process.
Nyx was determined to stay single for eternity. Even though five thousand years had passed, the curse made finding his True Mate very unappealing, especially having to wait so long to find his True Mate, only to kill her accidentally. It just wasn’t worth it, no matter how lonely Nyx felt. In the past, he’d simply drown his sorrows in liquor, but now that he had put that life behind him, there was only his music to fill that hole, and even then, it was only temporary.
