Touched by a Dragon (Fallen Immortals 6) - Paranormal Fairy Tale Romance

by Alisa Woods

  Fuck.

  Leonidas conjured clothes and quickly texted Rosalyn. Leksander needs me. House business. Will be back soon with ice cream as an apology.

  If she were already napping, he’d leave her a note before he slipped out.

  His phone buzzed in his hand. Chocolate-chip. I’ll accept nothing less.

  His smile hurt his face. Yes, your highness.

  Then he hustled out the door and hauled ass to the Great Room. Leksander was there and the Angel Markos, but also Lucian and, by Leonidas’s count, every last dragon stationed at the keep. About two dozen in all.

  The normal gathering tables had been cleared out, and Markos stood in the middle with Leksander and Lucian—the rest of the dragons kept back, but the tension was palpable. Markos was unearthly beautiful, like all his kind, with ridiculously long brown hair that even now floated in the breeze-less Great Room. His broad white wings were folded, but they were still out, a show of power that made Leonidas check his pace into the room. The angel took up space with both the imposing size of his body—he towered over every dragon in the place, almost too large to be mistaken for human—and with the powerful hum of magic that reverberated off him and shook the air. His toga was so flimsy, Leonidas wondered why he bothered, but angels were as seemingly oblivious to human social norms as the angelings they produced. Apparently, they couldn’t help taking a taste of the humans they adored above all else.

  Lucian caught sight of Leonidas’s aborted entrance. “Glad you could join us, my brother.”

  Markos’s twisted toward him, his electric blue eyes locking on him like a laser sight.

  Only then did Leonidas see Erelah standing behind Markos, tiny next to his oversized angel body. When Markos came to the House of Smoke before, to give a blessing filled with angel magic to Lucian and Arabella, Erelah acted like a groupie at a rock concert, trashing Leksander’s heart in the process. It made sense—Markos was a protector class Seraphim and Erelah’s faction leader—so a little fawning was understandable. Although the look she gave Markos, like she was just dying to ride his oversized cock, had rightly pissed off Leksander something fierce. Leonidas seriously wondered whether the whole taboo about angels sleeping with one of their halfbreeds was true.

  But now… now, she looked alarmed. And that was much worse.

  Leonidas cleared his throat. “To what do we owe the pleasure of an angel visit?” His fae runes were twitching all over his arms and up to his neck, enlivened by the raw angel energy pulsing through the room. The fae and angels were natural enemies, although the Summer Court fae in his blood a little less so.

  “Your child.” Markos’s voice boomed—not quite that terrifying angel mode that Leonidas sometimes heard from Erelah, but still. Eardrum-ache-level at least. “It is demon.”

  Well, the angels were blunt if nothing else. “I’ve noticed.” Because fuck you didn’t seem like the best response at the moment.

  “It must be destroyed.”

  Leonidas had three dragons holding him back before he realized he had surged forward, ready to assault an angel. Like an idiot. He shook them off and just leveled a glare at the calm face of the towering angel before him. Leksander had moved between Leonidas and Markos, and Erelah was on full alert by his side. Lucian was holding back, but the fury on his face matched the anger raging in Leonidas’s chest.

  “Fuck you,” Leonidas spat. It felt better to say it out loud.

  Markos’s expression didn’t change. “The angeling must be allowed her work.”

  Erelah’s agitation seemed to peak. She turned to face Markos. “I did not ask for your help.”

  Markos peered down at her with a tiny glimmer of sympathy. “I came because your judgment is clouded, Erelah.”

  Erelah flinched but held her ground. “It will be handled.”

  Leonidas just stared, opened mouthed. Had she promised something to this asshole? But maybe not… she was talking back to an angel. Something even angelings didn’t much dare to do. About fucking time. Leksander looked like he wanted to kiss her, but then he looked like that all the time.

  Still… “This is none of your business, angel,” Leonidas ground out. “This is a matter for the House of Smoke.”

  Markos took his time meeting the gaze of Lucian, then Leksander, then finally Leonidas. The hum from his body ramped up in power and charged the air. “The fate of humanity is always my business.” Then he turned to Lucian. “The dragonling must not be born demon. I will ensure this if you cannot.”

  “We will handle it,” Lucian growled. “Now get the fuck out of my House.”

  For a blazing moment, the angel’s power hummed louder… but then it dimmed. He turned to Erelah, and she jolted as if he had shocked her with that penetrating stare. But he said nothing, just untucked his wings, expanding so fast that the dragons nearby had to scuttle backward. Then in a blink, he disappeared. Angels traveled by the same interdimensional magic that the fae did, and the wards must be down around the keep.

  Leonidas was just glad he was gone.

  Erelah spun to face Leksander. “I did not ask him here.”

  His brother’s face held a heart-breaking happiness about that. “I know.” Then he frowned and glanced at Lucian, whose scowl was even darker now that Markos had left.

  “My brother,” Lucian said, gravely, meeting Leonidas’s gaze. “We need to have a talk.”

  But Leonidas didn’t need to slink off in private with his brothers to say what needed to be said. He could say it in front of the dragons of his House, Erelah-the-angeling, and whoever the fuck else wanted to listen.

  “I am not killing my unborn child.” The roar of his voice echoed off the stone walls of the Great Hall. “My child will be given every chance to live. And if he is born demon…” Leonidas’s throat closed up. There was no way he could do the act himself—he wasn’t fooling anyone with that. He cleared his throat and said, hoarsely and more quiet, “And if he is born demon… I won’t stand in your way.” And the only way that would happen would be if Leonidas was already dead. That was understood.

  Leksander’s face was a mirror of his own pain. “Leonidas—”

  Leonidas cut him off with a wave and a glare for Erelah. “You keep your angeling away from my son.” Then he turned his back on the lot because he couldn’t stand it any longer. And if he stayed, he would sink his talons into something soon.

  The long, slow march back to his lair was halted when he remembered he needed ice cream. Chocolate Chip. I’ll accept nothing less. He would be damned if he wouldn’t fulfill every wish, no matter how small, that Rosalyn might have in the minutes and hours they had left.

  Before he allowed the most precious thing to be taken from her.

  Leonidas’s stomach heaved, but he stomped his way toward the kitchen in search of ice cream.

  Rosalyn was well-fed and well-sexed—it might be enough.

  But keeping a lid on her anger at her father would not be easy. She’d already given him a chance to do the decent thing. To be a father and actually care. That would not happen, so she needed to downgrade her emotions to fuck you, I will negotiate the hell out of this. The kind of steely-eyed attitude she had for the traders who came through her magic shop—the one she and her mom had run for years, all on their own, just to make ends meet, and then just barely. All thanks to her father who had kicked them to the curb and not looked back.

  Fuck. This wasn’t working.

  She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders.

  “You okay?” Leonidas asked, peering at her with a worried look. “Technically, you don’t need to be part of this.”

  This was a meeting between them and her father at her father’s guest apartment in the keep, where she and Leonidas were just arriving. The heavy wooden door was closed, but Rosalyn could hear voices—male and female—inside. Arguing. No doubt about her… and her baby.

  “No, I need to do this,” she insisted, staring resolutely at the door and not meeting Leonidas’s concerned
look.

  “I’d be happy to handle it,” Leonidas said. “More than happy. Transcendently happy, if I’m completely honest.”

  That drew a smirk out of her. She peeked at him, and he had the most adorable protective fire in his eyes like he would move heaven and earth just for her. And that look swelled her heart. Holy magic, she loved this man. She loved him with a love so True it sang throughout every particle of her being. And that was what kept her going. Because that love was a real kind of magic, and it had brought her this far… she couldn’t imagine it failing her now.

  She just had to find the right magic to unlock its power.

  “No, I need to do this,” she said feeling the rightness of those words again. “But if I need air support, I’ll call you in for backup.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” He smiled softly, so she tipped up on her toes to give him a quick kiss, then rapped on the door before he could distract her with more.

  When it opened, her Aunt Alora stood there, red-faced. Rosalyn could only imagine what had passed between her and her father, but they couldn’t have been arguing long—Rosalyn came as soon as she heard her father had arrived at the keep.

  “Well, I’ve already had enough of him,” Alora said with a grimace. “Thank magic, you’re here.” She stepped back to let Rosalyn and Leonidas in.

  The guest apartment was smaller than the one Rosalyn had been voluntarily sequestered in for the first part of her pregnancy. Now that she was four weeks along, her belly definitely preceded her into the stone-walled room. A fire roared in a hearth in one corner, and the rest seemed straight out of Medieval Times just like the other rooms in the keep.

  Her father stood next to a couch in the middle of the receiving room. There was no one else here—apparently, her aunt Gwen, her father’s sister, had cleared out with the French witches, and Rosalyn knew her mother was ensconced in her own apartment. Her father was giving her belly a pensive stare but seemed reluctant to meet her steady gaze.

  This is just business, she reminded herself. A business transaction like any other. He had something she needed. She would make an offer. They would conduct it like civilized adults. Not having to resort to threats would make it more likely her father wouldn’t try something awful while he was restoring her mother’s magic. Because that was the first step.

  “Silas,” she said, coolly, using his name to signify this was just business, not father-daughter stuff. “Thank you for returning to the keep. I have an offer I think you’ll find worth your time.”

  He stopped scowling but only to look surprised. “You do?”

  “Yes.” She stepped closer but kept a good ten feet between them. Leonidas lingered behind her, but Alora had closed the door. “As you know, I have a strong interest in having you reverse the hex you placed on Isadora, essentially restoring her ability to conduct magic. She’s uniquely qualified to perform the spell my baby requires.”

  The surprise tempered to annoyance. “Yes, Alora was very detailed in her explanation.”

  Rosalyn flicked a grateful look in Alora’s direction, but she didn’t want to get distracted, so she stepped closer to her father. Just one step, but cutting off his view of her aunt. “You don’t need to know the details. All you need to do is remove the hex. Unwind the spell you performed before. It’s a straightforward thing.”

  “Well, it’s not that simple—”

  “It is that simple.” The coolness in her voice had vanished. She would not believe any bullshit from his mouth about how he couldn’t do this. Not at this stage.

  He scowled, then his gaze dropped to her belly and bounced back up. “And if it doesn’t work?” He flicked a glance over her shoulder to where Leonidas was looming at her back.

  Her father was obviously only concerned with his own skin. It was what she expected, but it still roiled the anger inside her.

  “The only part that has to work is the restoration of my mother’s magic.” She felt Leonidas’s presence inching closer, but she had this under control. “If you do that, then I guarantee the House of Smoke will not impose on you again. And you will have the gratitude of dragon shifters all over the world. Which means protection.”

  He gave her a skeptical look. “Protection from what?”

  Rosalyn took another step closer. “Other dragons. The mysterious and powerful fae. The demons that are on the rise in Seattle… and are clearly capable of infecting witches.” Her anger was rising again. “There are powerful forces out there, Silas. Forces you seriously do not want fucking with you and your coven, and the House of Smoke would be one of the most powerful allies you could have on your side.”

  “I don’t need protection.” He gave her a cool stare.

  “Yes, you do.” Was he going to deny the existence of all these supernatural powers and forces? After all he and his sister Gwen had seen? Maybe they hadn’t known of the immortal world before last month, but now? “You have no idea what dark and powerful forces there are in the immortal realm, Silas. You really don’t want to pass up the offer of an alliance with one of the most powerful—”

  “I don’t need protection,” he repeated, glowering a little.

  Her anger was boiling hot in her chest now. “You don’t understand—”

  “I do. It’s just that I don’t want you—”

  “You’ve never wanted me!” And suddenly, the fire building deep inside her welled up and demanded release. She clamped her teeth shut and exhaled through them, but that didn’t keep the dragonfire inside. The blue flames leaked and swirled into the air between them. Somehow even that small venting helped calm the raging storm—that and the wide-eyed look on her father’s face.

  Leonidas’s hand landed at the small of her back, but she waved him off. She would do this—she would make this work—for her baby.

  “Rosalyn,” her father said, voice hushed. “That’s not true.”

  “What’s not true?” She’d been so busy getting control again and making sure she didn’t roast her father in a burst of dragonfire—at least not before he restored her mother’s magic—that she’d lost the thread of what they were talking about.

  He lowered his gaze. “I’ve always wanted you. You and your mother both.” He slowly raised his gaze to meet hers. “That’s why… what happened was so…” He swallowed and looked away. “Difficult to bear. But that’s in the past now.” He looked back to her. “I don’t need protection or anything else you have to offer. I’ll remove the hex from your mother so she can assist you in the birth of your child. Gwen tells me it’s the least I owe you… and she’s right.”

  Rosalyn just stared at him. Was he… did he just say… she had no words.

  Her mind was literally blank.

  “Thank you,” Leonidas said, stepping forward and slipping an arm around Rosalyn.

  She let him because she was still in shock. “I… I accept your offer.” It was weak. Hollow. He was doing it voluntarily—the thing she didn’t think he was capable of and yet here he was.

  “We should go right away, then,” Leonidas said, gently tugging her toward the door.

  Her legs felt stiff and clumsy. But she let Leonidas steer her out the door. Her father followed with Alora bringing up the rear. They walked in silence through the corridors of the keep, toward her mother’s apartment.

  When they arrived, Rosalyn was still in a fog of shock.

  Her father would really do this. Voluntarily. It was like she needed to reassess all the things—her entire life—but she didn’t have time for any of that. She just needed to make sure this would actually happen.

  Her mother stiffened as soon as she saw Silas following Rosalyn and Leonidas through the door. Alora trotted in last and quickly explained—thank magic, so Rosalyn wouldn’t have to—and her mother relaxed. A little.

  Rosalyn was just getting her wind again, when suddenly her mom and dad were standing together, getting ready to do the spell.

  “Wait!” Rosalyn said, not entirely sure why.

  They both looked
to her, a little surprised.

  She pursed her lips. “I just… I wanted to say thank you.” She nodded to her father. “Thank you.”

  He just nodded and turned back to her mom. “Isadora, I have no idea if this will be… painful. Or perhaps, unsettling would be a better word.” His eyes were pinched like he thought she might say no.

  “Silas, that’s my baby girl and my grandbaby,” she said softly, but Rosalyn heard the steel-strong love underneath it. “Nothing else matters.”

  The barest hint of a smile showed on his face. “You always were the strongest witch I knew. Still are.”

  Oh shit… Rosalyn was not going to cry. She felt like she was coming unhinged with the sudden swing in emotions. She wanted to blame it on the pregnancy, but she never in a million years expected to see her father gently conjuring magic in front of her mother’s face—a slow, mesmerizing spin of blue-sparking waves—to restore her powers. Leonidas must have known how close she was to simply losing it, how unsteady she felt because he slipped his arm around her waist and held her, just strong enough that if her legs gave out, he would be there for her. As he always was and always would be.

  Her father was whispering some incantation, the words too low and soft for anyone to hear. Alora stood nearby with tears in her eyes. The blue-sparking cloud of magic in front of her mother’s face kept growing, swirling faster the larger it became, such that her father had to take a step back and give it room between them. Her mother’s beautiful, long red-and-silver hair lifted as if a vortex of static electricity had descended on her and charged it. The magic cloud seemed to pulse now, shifting form and growing larger until it was almost as big as her mother. The hum of energy seemed too much… it sent a spike of fear through Rosalyn.

  She turned to Leonidas, who was still holding her up, giving him a worried look.

  He shook his head then dipped to whisper in her ear, “It’s okay. If anything goes wrong, I’ll fix it. I might not be able to restore her, but I can stop anything from hurting her.”