Claimed by a Dragon (Fallen Immortals 9) - Paranormal Fairytale Romance

by Alisa Woods

  “I don’t want him near you.” She was fearless, and he loved her for it, but he trusted none of the angelkind right now. Especially the angel who thought Erelah belonged to his Dominion.

  She scowled. “He’s unlikely to respond quickly. Angels take their time and act with measure and wisdom.”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. But Leksander bit his lip. There was no point arguing about the Virtues of an angel, least of all with an angeling who looked up to him like a father. Given her own father was in shadow, he could understand that. Maybe.

  “It’s fine with me if he takes his time,” Leksander said, keeping most of the bitterness of out his voice. “Besides, the last thing I want is you in a position where you have to use your blade. That’s just… I don’t want you that close to danger.”

  Erelah nodded. “Every precaution must be taken for the baby. But my blade may be its last defense.”

  A chill washed through Leksander—he could too easily see that being true.

  When he hesitated, she added, more softly. “I’ve begun to feel the pangs of hunger, Leksander. The baby needs sustenance.”

  Leksander sighed and unlocked his arms. What else could he do? “Fine.” He turned to his brother’s expectant looks. “Thirty seconds. Make it fifteen, okay?”

  Lucian nodded and leaped backward off the ledge, shifting midair to his golden dragon form to go coordinate with the others.

  “It’s going to work,” Leonidas assured him. But his brother hadn’t been to the shadow world. He hadn’t seen the things Leksander had. The hurricane of magic that angels of light and shadow created when fighting. The bloodthirstiness of the shadow world altogether. And that wasn’t even counting the fae, who were tangled up in this somehow.

  “When the wards are down,” Leksander said to his brother. “I’m going to toss out Erelah’s blade. I want you to retrieve it and see what can be done to get it fixed. Then bring it back to the keep. I want a plan to move us in the works as soon as possible, and I want Erelah to have a functional blade when it happens.”

  “You got it.” Leonidas turned to Erelah. “There’s not a dragon here who wouldn’t sacrifice themselves for you, princess of the House of Smoke,” he said with a small smile. “And there are a couple of dragon mates back home rooting for you as well.”

  Erelah seemed uncertain what to say.

  Leksander took her hand and squeezed it. “Stop freaking out my mate,” he growled to Leonidas, who just chuckled and pushed off the ledge, shifting into his bronze dragon form. He flew away from the edge to join the others gathering on a nearby cliff with the resupply packages.

  “I am not freaked out,” Erelah said softly. “I am… grateful.”

  He turned to her. “You are sexy as hell, and I want nothing more than to have you in my bed back at the keep.” He pulled her close and kissed her, mostly to cover up the fact he was freaked out by the idea of lowering the wards. He’d tried to think of a way to make interlocking wards—a second barrier that would lock Erelah safely away while they made this transfer of food and water—but he would have to be outside the second barrier to lower the first. That would leave him exposed. And if he died then, she would be locked in. There was no good solution other than simply dropping the wards and hoping his brothers didn’t fuck up.

  “You are worried,” Erelah said plainly, “but this is a good plan. A necessary plan. Then we can move forward.”

  “You’re right.” He held his hand up. “Give me the knife. I’ll toss it out right before I raise the wards again.” She handed it over. “And I want you as far to the back of the cave as possible.” The cave was small, and there wasn’t really anywhere to go. “I’ll conjure a wall that looks like the back of the cave to conceal you. It won’t stop an angel or fae who’s determined to get in, but it might slow them down. Or at least confuse them.” It was the best he could come up with.

  She nodded. “They can easily transport past it. And any immortal should be able to sense my presence if they know what to seek. But it might confuse them. A little.” She was being kind about his mostly-useless gesture.

  He pulled her in for another kiss. “If someone gets past me and this fucked up angel blade of yours, I expect you to kill the hell out of them. No matter who they are.”

  “I will protect our baby.” And that he knew to be an unquestionable truth.

  “Okay, go.” He would lose his nerve if he drew this out much further.

  She strode to the furthest corner of the cave, and he quickly conjured a wall that looked very cave-like to conceal her. Then he turned to face the mouth of the cave. A full squad of dragon warriors was circling in the air above the canyon his tomb was carved from. Four of them carried bulky wooden crates in their talons. A half-dozen others circled those, forming a protective guard. Lucian was among them, serving as the lead. Leonidas was closer to the tomb, his bronze scales catching the brilliant shine of the sun as he hovered and swooped, crisscrossing a pattern that blocked entry to the cave. Another half dozen dragons were doing the same, a constantly rotating phalanx of guards to literally, physically block the cave with their talons and teeth and dragonfire.

  An angel would blast through them like tissue paper.

  Leksander took a steadying breath, lifted his hand to give the ready signal, then shifted to his dragon form. According to the plan, that was the visual cue to start the run. Lucian screeched to his four crate-carrying dragons, leading them forward, picking up speed as they headed for the cave. Leksander clutched Erelah’s damaged blade in one set of talons while he waved the other across the mouth of the cave, bringing down the wards. The instant they were down, he reached out mentally to his brothers.

  Now! he telepathically commanded to Leonidas.

  Lucian and his dragons had nearly reached the rocky wall face that his tomb was carved in. Leonidas banked hard away from the cave, and he and the other dragons held their guard stations in the air, hovering while Lucian’s dragons, one-by-one, swung the crates into the cave then banked up hard to avoid crashing into the mountain. The crates tumbled across the rocky floor and banged against the false wall Leksander had erected. As the fourth one sailed through, Leksander tossed Erelah’s blade out into the bright morning air, then lifted his taloned hand to conjure the wards once again.

  A split-second before he finished, Tajael appeared in the cave.

  It was too late to stop. The ward was up. The cave was sealed.

  Tajael was inside.

  Leksander roared, blasting dragonfire at the angeling. The rolling blue fire buffeted the crates, catching one on fire, but the angeling somersaulted over the spray and shot feet first toward Leksander, knocking him clear across the cave and against his own wards. The magic of the barrier sparked and seared heat across his back, but he bounced off and landed on his feet. Leksander charged, leading with all four taloned hands and feet. He caught the angeling in the chest, sinking his claws and drawing blood, but Tajael just grabbed hold of his scaly arms and whipped him around, sending him crashing so hard into the rocky wall of the cave, he broke a chunk of it loose.

  “Dragon prince!” Tajael shouted. “Stay down.”

  Fuck that. Leksander heaved his head up, spraying dragonfire as he got his feet under him. Tajael magically twisted out of the plume, disappearing from one end of the cave and reappearing at Leksander’s back. The angeling shoved him to the ground, this time forcing Leksander’s face against the dusty floor and holding him with what felt like the force of a rockslide.

  “Leksander!” Erelah’s voice rang out. Close. Too close. Leksander twisted his face away from the dirt.

  She had magicked her way out from behind the rock-wall camouflage.

  “Erelah!” Goddammit, what was she doing?

  Tajael instantly released him. Leksander rolled, trying desperately to grab the angeling’s wings or toga or legs—anything to keep him from reaching Erelah—but Tajael was too fast. Leksander roared his panic and frustration and heaved himself up from the ground only
to find…

  Tajael flat on the ground at Erelah’s feet.

  Leksander stumbled to a stop, cutting short his raging charge. Erelah looked down at the angeling with a horrified expression, but it wasn’t fear on her face. And she wasn’t holding Tajael down or threatening him. The angeling had simply prostrated himself before her, kneeling forward until he was folded in half, face down in the dirt, arms spread wide.

  “Get up!” Erelah gasped out.

  “Tell your mate,” Tajael said, not moving a muscle. “Tell him I would never harm you.”

  “Do not prostrate before me!” Erelah’s eyes were wide and panicky. She bent down and grasped hold of Tajael’s toga, yanking up. The angeling was dead weight, refusing to move.

  “Tell him,” Tajael said, head still bent.

  She dropped him and stepped back, the same look of horror still plastered on her face. She dragged her gaze up to meet Leksander’s. “Tajael will not hurt me.” Then she looked down again at the angeling. “He has pledged to serve me.”

  Leksander’s blood was boiling—the adrenaline still surging from the brief and panicky fight—and he had no idea what this pledging business meant, but it appeared that Tajael would not harm Erelah. Or try to steal her away. Although, technically, the angeling had nowhere to go. He was locked in the cave with them.

  “Get up!” Erelah demanded again, and this time Tajael did.

  His snow white toga was a horror show of red from where Leksander’s talons had sliced through and drawn blood.

  “You are injured!” Erelah said this like she blamed Tajael for his own wounds, which calmed Leksander’s immediate fears about that.

  Tajael bowed his head. “Your mate is very protective. I tried not to damage him.” He peered sideways at Leksander. “I trust you are well, dragon prince?”

  And other than the anger and humiliation of being ground into cave dirt... “I have one too many angelings in my cave, but other than that, I’m fucking fine.”

  “I am relieved to hear that.” And he seemed to mean it. “I wish no harm to you, and of course, none to Erelah.”

  A pulse of magic boomed from the wards, making Leksader jolt and dragging his attention outside. A bronze dragon had just crashed into the ward shield. Leonidas. His brother reeled back then leaped for the lip of the cave again, this time shifting human just as he arrived.

  Leonidas barely clung to the edge. “Leksander! What the fuck is this?” Dragons were swarming behind him, including Lucian’s golden dragon, shrieking and looking panicked. Leksander couldn’t hear their telepathy through the wards, only the stiff wind of their wings beating the air and the ordinary sound waves of their screeching.

  “It’s okay,” Leksander rushed out, but he really had no idea what was going on. He turned to the angeling invader. “What the hell, Tajael?” Leksander had been prepared to fight anyone who broached the cave—why would Tajael come blazing in if he meant no harm? What did he expect would happen?

  The angeling gave a helpless shrug. “I’ve been waiting for Erelah’s blade to sing, but there’s been nothing. I feared the worst when I returned from the demon uprising in Seattle to find the House of Smoke in chaos. No one would answer my entreaties from the weigh station. None would confess where the dragon prince had gone. Or his beloved. It was all secrets and lies and…” He turned to Erelah. “I feared for you, but I knew you must be in hiding. If you weren’t dead, then you were well hid. And must have a reason for hiding. And if so…” He glanced at Leksander. “If you are mated…” He turned back to her and broke into a smile. “But I sense it. The child you carry, Erelah! What a wonder.”

  “It is,” Erelah said carefully. And Leksander was glad to hear the caution in her voice. “But I will protect this child with my life, Tajael.” There was a warning in her voice.

  Leksander expected Tajael to protest or be confused, but instead, he just nodded solemnly. “As will I.” He grimaced and turned to face Leksander. “My apologies, prince of the House of Smoke. I didn’t mean to appear threatening. But I suspected you and Erelah may have mated. That you may have created a child, just as you have. And I figured if that were true…” He looked back to Erelah for help.

  Understanding dawned on her face. “You wanted to get here first.”

  Tajael nodded. “You are right to be concerned. This… this child… it changes everything.” He was staring at Erelah’s belly as if he could see straight into her womb. And Leksander supposed he could. Erelah had often spoken of seeing—or really sensing—the souls of the humans she rescued from demons. And more than once, Leksander felt as if she were peering directly into his soul… as if she could really see it.

  Erelah frowned. “Have you told Markos what you suspected?”

  “No.” Tajael was emphatic about that, and somehow, that made Leksander’s shoulders relax. Leonidas was scowling from outside the wards, but he gave Leksander a nod. This was good news. “Not that the knowledge of your child will be kept from Markos for long,” Tajael warned. “And when he discovers the truth…” He grimaced. “Erelah, I am joyful for you and the child and the renewal of the treaty. But you have to know the consequences of this are… they’re almost beyond reckoning for the angel realm.”

  “You think he would try it,” Erelah said, her face drawn down. “Markos has ambition to try it.”

  “His weakness has always been Humility,” Tajael said.

  “Try what?” Leksander asked, suddenly lost in this conversation.

  Tajael flicked a look to him. “Markos sees the shadow realm grow stronger, century by century, building their armies with the fallen. With angelings created from their Lust.”

  “Wait…” Leksander said. “Are you saying Markos wants to build an army of angelings too? Like Razael?” Erelah’s father had tried to create her without falling into shadow—and failed.

  “Markos has already been doing it.” Tajael gave Erelah a knowing look. “Although by stealing the angelings created by shadow rather than creating his own.”

  She frowned, but she didn’t disagree. “All this time… I believed we were fighting for the light. For righteousness, Tajael.”

  “And we are,” he replied, earnestly gesturing to her belly. “But don’t you see? If Markos believes he can make angelings without Falling—without going to shadow—then he will. He will attempt it, and others as well. This hope that you offer, Erelah…”

  Her eyes were wide. “But they will not be able to do it! It is… complicated. And they would have need of True Love. And… and… it may not even be possible for me.”

  “I know,” Tajael cried out. “But Markos will be certain that if a lowly angeling can accomplish it, then surely he can. And if Markos and the other angels try, based only on that hope, they may well Fall.”

  “And if the True Angels start to Fall…” The horror was even more plain on Erelah’s face.

  Leksander couldn’t be more confused. “So they go to shadow. So what?” He had to be missing something here. The shadow realm seemed cruel, but it wasn’t like they were dead.

  Tajael’s face grew as serious as Leksander had ever seen. “There are few forces for light and goodness in this world and much chaos, dragon prince. You know this. Your House is key to keeping some of it in balance.”

  Leksander frowned. “You mean the fae.”

  “Exactly right,” Tajael said. “But your treaty binds the fae only in a very specific way. They may not kill humans who might mate with the House of Smoke. Or heirs of the House of Smoke itself. But there is much other mayhem they can evoke. Just look at what is happening in Seattle right now with this demon uprising!”

  Leksander scowled. “I haven’t exactly had time to watch the news.”

  “It is dire and getting worse,” Tajael said. “The immortal and mortal worlds are clashing at unprecedented levels, the likes of which hasn’t been seen since…” He swallowed. “Well, since humanity actually believed in magic. These past millennia of calm between the realms have been kep
t by one thing and one thing only.”

  “Angels of the light.” Erelah’s whisper was both a curse and an answer. She looked stricken, one hand on her belly, the other gazing past Leksander’s shoulder, out into the still-churning cloud of dragon wings. “My baby could bring the end of times.”

  “What?” Leksander’s alarm shot up ten levels. “Our baby is doing no such thing.” He gently took Erelah’s shoulders in his hands and peered into her eyes to catch her attention. “Erelah, my love. Our child is going to save the treaty. He’s going to renew it for another five hundred years. He will keep humanity safe.” He knew that was playing dirty, but it also was true—and saving humanity was what every angeling lived for.

  She dully nodded, but he could tell she was still turning this crazy idea over in her mind.

  Leksander released her and stormed over to Tajael. “Time for you to leave.”

  Tajael nodded. “I’ll keep close. I’ll work with your House to guard your retreat. I’ve pledged myself to Erelah’s Dominion.”

  “Erelah’s Dominion?” What the hell was the angeling talking about?

  But Tajael just went on. “My life is hers, and the baby’s, and yours, prince of the House of Smoke. Trust that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.” He threw a concerned look to Erelah, who was now staring at the floor. Then Tajael turned to face the mouth of the cave.

  Leonidas was still fuming just outside, watching and waiting for Leksander’s next move.

  “I’m going to lower the wards for half a second,” Leksander said loud enough for everyone to hear. To Tajael, he said, “Make sure you’re out before they go back up.”

  Tajael gave a curt nod. And sure enough, when Leksander lowered and raised them again—as fast as he could gesture the magic—Tajael had disappeared from the cave and reappeared, floating on white wings, in the air outside, next to Leonidas. His brother scowled at the angeling, but he shifted and leaped off the cliff. Tajael followed, returning to the scrum of dragon forces in the air above them.

  Leksander turned away from them and went to his mate, gathering her in his arms. She buried her face in his chest. He had no words for her, so he simply conjured a draping of white cloth across the mouth of the cave, sealing off the world from their sight.