Dragon's Treasure: A Reverse Harem Serial (Blood Prophecy Book 5)
Page 6
Pick up, Silas.
The phone rings and rings and rings, but he doesn’t answer.
My pulse starts to race. Don’t immediately rush to the worst-case scenario. It could be really noisy in the bar. Maybe he just can’t hear the ringtone.
Okay. That makes sense. Silas frequently jokes about how my generation spends too much time staring at our phones. I take a deep breath to calm my frazzled nerves and dial Tomas Vallin, the head of Bastian’s security. Tomas’ men are guarding Silas; the panther shifter would know where my father is.
Once again, the line rings over and over again, but no one answers.
I’m starting to panic when my phone beeps. I exhale in relief. Damn it, Silas. You scared the crap out of me.
But it’s not Silas. “Ms. Archer,” a cool voice says on the other end of the line. “Having trouble reaching your father?”
Zyrian. “Who is this?” My blood turns to ice, and there’s an audible tremble in my voice. “What have you done with Silas?”
He laughs coolly. “Nothing,” he replies. “Yet. You’re not a fool. You know what I want. Bring me the Bloodstone, and your father lives. Fail, and he dies. You have twenty-four hours to get to my castle.”
“Your castle is in Alaska,” I say stupidly. “I can’t get a flight…”
“You’re the mate of five dragon princes. Figure it out.”
Silas. Oh dear God, no. Please tell me this is a dream.
11
Aria
I’ve got to move quickly.
My first instinct is to find my dragons and tell them what’s happened. But almost as soon as that urge hits me, I push it back.
We don’t have a way to amplify my blood. We can’t safely release the magic from the Bloodstone. Confronting Zyrian is a death sentence.
I know Bastian, Erik, Rhys, Mateo, and Casius. They won’t let me sacrifice myself for Silas. They won’t let me go alone into the Dark Dragon’s lair. They’ll insist on coming with me.
And then we’ll all die.
My vision feels like a warning. Death awaits me in Zyrian’s castle. But I have no choice.
Without Silas, I’d have never made it to my fourteenth birthday, let alone my twenty-fourth. He saved me from the streets, from Hagan Nygaard’s clutches. He gave me a stable home, a clean, safe place to sleep, food to eat. My life had been a struggle to survive, and in one act of stunning generosity, he’d changed it entirely. And most important, he gave me the greatest gift of all. Unconditional love.
After so many years alone, Silas is finally dating someone. He’s joining a pack again. Everything’s going great for him. Or it was until Zyrian used him as a pawn to get to me.
The Dark Dragon has read me well. I will do anything to save my father.
Remember the vision, a voice cautions me. Remember your failure. Marching into Zyrian’s fortress, sword in hand, with nothing other than the Bloodstone to protect you is reckless and foolhardy.
My heart aches. I don’t want to do this alone. I’d give anything to be able to knock on my mates’ doors. To wake them up and debate strategy with them. To figure out the best way to tackle this.
But I don’t have that luxury.
The clock is ticking. I have twenty-four hours.
I don’t want to sneak out, the same way I had the morning after the Valhalla Ball. I don’t want to run away. I’m doing the lone wolf thing, but I’m not proud of it. I just don’t see any other option.
I march on auto-pilot to my bedroom. I grab my backpack and stuff some belongings into it. My purse. The black Amex with no spending limit. My laptop. Endellion.
Then I’m moving outside, making my way on silent feet to Bastian’s garage. I punch in the code to open the door—Bastian had made no effort to hide it from me, why would he? He trusts me, a trust I do not deserve—and make my way toward the silver Porsche that he let me drive last week.
Bastian has repeatedly said that everything that’s his is mine. I really hope that extends to his private plane. Because if I’m to get to Zyrian’s castle in time, I’m going to need to steal it.
I’m really sorry, I whisper as I turn the key in the ignition. More than anything else, I wish things could be different.
Commandeering Bastian’s plane turns out to be easier than I expected. The manager at the private airfield recognizes me, which I’m confused about until I remember that Bastian had introduced him to me when we’d arrived from Manhattan.
His name is Carl Rohrbach. “Ms. Archer,” he greets me, almost falling over himself in a bow.
“I need a crew,” I tell him. “I’m going to borrow Bastian’s plane.”
“Of course. Lord Jaeger has a team on call twenty-four seven. I’ll send them a message. They’ll be here right away.”
Huh. Really? I glance at my phone. It’s been forty-five minutes since Zyrian called me. Alaska’s got to be at least fourteen hours away. “Tell them to hurry,” I reply, my voice laced with tension. “I don’t have much time.”
An hour later, I’m in the air, pinching myself about how simple it has been to steal Bastian’s plane. I say steal, but the reality is, I didn’t need to do any such thing.
Your mates trust you. Look at how you’re repaying them.
Guilt sloshes through me. I have no doubt that the dragons will find out where I’m going. Even though this is a private plane, I’m sure that the pilot had to file some kind of flight plan. As soon as they wake up, they’ll know I ran away.
And then what?
Last week, Bastian had told me he loved me. I’d wanted to say those words back to him, but I hadn’t then. All week, I’ve been waiting for the right moment, but now, it’s too late.
My throat closes up with grief. I can’t do this. I can’t walk away without a word to them. Without letting them know how important they are to me.
My mates can’t stop me now. I’m already in the air. If the pilot tries to turn the plane back, I am desperate enough to threaten them with my magic. I’m going to reach Alaska in time.
I close my eyes and take a deep, steadying breath. Then I pull my phone out.
It’s self-indulgent, but damn it, I’m still going to do it. I’m marching to my death. Before that happens, I want one phone call. I want to explain why I’m doing what I’m doing, and above all, I want to tell them just how much I love them.
12
Erik
The shrill ringing of my phone pulls me from my sleep. Aria’s soft body is no longer cuddled against mine, and her spot on the bed is cold. My phone rings again, and I remember what woke me. A familiar number flashes on the screen—Aria.
Every instinct immediately snaps on high-alert.
Calm down, Valder. The castle is huge. She’s probably just in the kitchens for a midnight snack and wants to know if you want anything.
“Hello.” My tone is neutral, not betraying my roiling emotions.
“Erik…” Aria’s voice is soft and apologetic.
One word. That’s all it takes for cold dread to fill me. Her screaming bloody murder couldn’t have put me more on edge than that one word spoken in that quiet voice.
“What happened?” I demand.
“He has Silas.”
She doesn’t have to say who he is. I know—we all know.
The Dark Dragon strikes again. This time, too close to home.
I’m out of bed and pulling on my clothes before she finishes her sentence. “It’s going to be okay, princess. We’ll get him back. Are you in your room? I’m—”
“Erik.” She cuts me off. “I’m not there.”
Pure blinding panic takes hold of my throat and steals my voice. What has she done?
“I’m sorry,” she continues into the silence. “I’m so sorry.” She draws a shaky breath. “I have to stop him. I can’t sit by, not while Zyrian kills my father.”
“Princess, do you think we’d let that happen? Where are you? We’ll come to get you.”
“No,” she says sharply. “Zyri
an’s power might be waning, but he’s not weak. He almost killed you once, remember?” Her voice goes quiet. “I can draw the magic of the Bloodstone into me. There’s no need to risk anyone else. I can’t let that happen. I can’t allow you to be hurt on my behalf.”
The level of conviction in her tone would be impressive if there weren’t an edge of fear to it. Oh, my mate is brave. Braver than any woman I’ve ever known. But she’s not a reckless fool. She knows what she’s walking into.
“Don’t do this to me,” I beg, my throat finally letting loose my words. “Wait for us. We will do this together.”
“Please... Please don’t make this harder than it already is…” Her voice catches on a sob. “I don’t want to go to Alaska without saying something. I love you, Erik.”
The last crack in my broken heart is filled with her declaration. I close my eyes shut as despair washes over me. Ah, princess. Why won’t you listen to me and wait for us? I’ve lost one mate. I can’t lose another.
She’s pieced me back together, and now she’s tearing me apart all over again. “Princess.”
“Will you tell them…” Another sob. She’s openly crying now. “Tell the others that I love them. All of them. I should have told you all sooner. I wish we had more time.”
I want to yell. To scream and tell her that we don’t care about breaking the fucking curse. We want her—our mate—we’d give up all the magic in the world to keep her healthy and happy.
But it’s not about the curse anymore. It’s about Silas Archer.
“There has to be another way. Aria, please. Don’t do this without us.”
“There’s no other way,” she says with finality. She takes a deep breath. “I love you.” There is a beat of silence, and then the line goes dead, my heart along with it.
I stand frozen for what feels like an eternity. Then I’m running toward Bastian’s room.
Fuck this shit. We’re going after her. No matter what she says or thinks, she’s not alone. She’s never alone. We’re her mates. Our place is at her side. Always.
13
Aria
I pull myself together after my phone call with Erik. As tempting as it is to huddle up into a ball and weep, I’ve got to get my shit together. Too much is at stake here. The future of magic. The fate of my mates. And of course, Silas’ life.
I will die, of course. But if I find a way to absorb the Bloodstone’s magic before it overwhelms me and use it to defeat Zyrian, then the curse will be broken.
Think of this as just another job.
Okay. I’m walking into the castle of the most dangerous dragon mage in the world. What do I need?
Speed. Strength. Protection.
Pieter Van Den Berg. Of course. The tattoo artist had been working on a Do-Not-Notice rune. It hadn’t worked on my mates, but maybe it’ll work on Zyrian. If I can sneak into his castle and free Silas without a confrontation with the Dark Dragon…
It’s two in the morning in Manhattan. I dial Pieter’s number anyway, and he picks up the phone after a couple of rings. “Hello?” he mumbles sleepily.
“Pieter, it’s Aria.”
“Aria?” His voice sharpens. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m going to steal from the dragons once again,” I reply. “Well, one dragon in particular.” I cross my fingers, hoping Pieter has something good cooking up in his workshop. “You got anything that’ll help me?”
He sighs. “Listen, if you need money, Aria, I’ll find you a job. You seemed on good terms with the dragons, but don’t push your luck. There’s no need to tempt fate.”
Tempt fate? My fate was determined five hundred years ago by Maija Essen and Halla Northridottir. I’m doing what has been prophesied.
There’s one thing I’ve been wondering about ever since I learned that I could free the magic in the Bloodstone. If I was to die, why make me the mate of the dragon princes? Why cause their hearts to break?
But now, the answer becomes clear. The Silver Mage knew that the surest way to draw me into this fight was to make me care about the dragons. It would be too easy for me to give Zyrian the Bloodstone in exchange for Silas’ freedom, but I can’t do that. If Zyrian wins, my mates will die. I am ready to sacrifice myself to prevent that from happening.
“Aria?” Pieter sounds tentative. “Are you okay?”
No. “I’m fine. I’ve got to do this job. If you have anything, can you FedEx it to Alaska?” I flip open my laptop—Bastian’s plane has internet access—and search for a tattoo parlor in Nome. “Someone else can apply the ink, right?”
He exhales. “I guess so. Where in Alaska?”
I frown. I don’t trust some random person to tattoo me some magical protection. It’s too risky. It’ll have to be Pieter himself. The South African tattoo artist and I have an often-contentious relationship, but I know he won’t sell me out to Zyrian.
“On second thought, can you get to Nome, Alaska tomorrow?” Goodbye, bank balance. “I’ll pay for a charter flight.”
“Where the fuck is Nome?”
I roll my eyes. “Look on a fucking map, Pieter. Money’s no object. I’ll pay you a hundred grand if you can meet me by…” My voice trails off as I do some calculations in my head. It’s a fourteen-hour flight. If I’m doing the math correctly, I’ll land in Alaska at one in the afternoon, Alaska-time. “Tomorrow at one.”
“I can’t get to Alaska in eleven hours.”
Closer to fifteen, actually, because of the time zone differences, but I let it go. He’ll figure it out on his own. “One hundred thousand dollars, Pieter.”
He sighs heavily. “Fine. I’ll do my best. But not for the money, Aria. Because you’re my friend, and I have a very bad feeling that you’re in over your head.”
14
Bastian
I look at Erik’s white face, and I know that something is badly wrong. “What happened?”
“Aria just called me,” he says, his voice dead. “She’s gone. She said that Zyrian has Silas Archer.”
My heart plunges into darkness. “How?” I demand, reaching for my phone and noticing that it’s been switched off. Fuck. I turn it back on and dial Tomas’ number. “Vallin had at least five panthers watching Archer. Zyrian shouldn’t have been able to get close.”
The line keeps ringing, and my blood turns to ice. Tomas always picks up his calls. “Where is Aria now, did she say?”
Before he can answer, my phone beeps, signaling an incoming text message. I read it grimly. “Wake the others. Aria took my private plane and is en-route to Alaska. We need to go after her.”
Erik nods tightly and leaves. I scroll through my messages and see one from Lukus Hyde, Alpha of Eclipse Pack. Call me.
I dial his number as Casius, Rhys, Mateo, and Erik hurry into my bedroom. “What’s the plan?” Rhys says, his hands clenched into fists.
Hyde answers on the first ring. “Lord Jaeger. Thank heavens. I’ve been trying to reach you for the last hour.”
I put him on speaker phone. “Did Zyrian take Archer?”
He exhales. “It appears to be the case,” he says unhappily. “Last night was a full moon night. Silas was supposed to run with the pack. An initiation rite. When he didn’t show, I went to his apartment to see what was keeping him.”
“And?” Erik breaks in impatiently.
“The guards were dead or dying. Silas was missing. Raedwulf and his friend did this, Lord Valder. I can smell their scent.”
I close my eyes. Tomas Vallin has been at my side for twelve years. Calm, competent, unflappable in a crisis, and fiercely loyal. May he live forever in the halls of Valhalla.
“How did two wolves overcome five panthers?” Casius asks from his corner.
“Vallin’s in the ER right now,” the Alpha responds. “He regained consciousness long enough to tell me what happened. Raedwulf had some kind of magic weapon. It prevented Vallin and the others from shifting.”
Tomas is alive. Pure relief runs through me for a second, and then my fear
for my mate comes rushing back.
“The alchemists,” Rhys says flatly. “The poison that was stolen from Kioko Yone. Zyrian strikes again.”
“My Lord Jaeger,” Lukus Hyde says, his words formal. “The Dark Dragon has taken Archer. I cannot allow this. Eclipse will fight to the death to rescue one of our own. We’re on our way to Alaska right now. I ask for your assistance in this matter.”
Mausezähnchen, why didn’t you come to us? Why didn’t you ask for our help?
“You have it.”
I hang up. Casius is already typing something on his laptop. “Listen,” he says. “This is a recording of Zyrian’s call to Aria.”
He hacked into River Comm that easily? Any other day, I’d be annoyed at my data security team. Today, I’m profoundly glad for their incompetence.
We hear Zyrian issue his threat. Bring me the Bloodstone, and your father lives. Fail, and he dies. You have twenty-four hours to get to my castle.
“She’s going to her death,” Mateo says, speaking for the first time. “We have to stop her. Bastian, call the pilot and get him to turn the plane around.”
“No,” Rhys cuts in. “Imagine how Aria would feel if we stopped her from getting to Zyrian. If Silas dies because of our actions, do you think she’ll ever be able to forgive us?” He fixes us with a piercing look. “Do you think we’ll be able to forgive ourselves?”
Mateo nods reluctantly. “You’re right.”
I look up at Mateo. “You translocated us to Paris,” I start. “Can you take us to Alaska?”
He exhales. “I could,” he says, his tone hesitant. “But it will drain my strength. If there’s a battle on the other end…”
He’ll need to conserve his energy. Damn it. The clock is ticking, and while I might have a hangar filled with cars, I don’t own more than one private plane. It’ll take too long for Carl Rohrbach to locate another plane and crew. Time we don’t have.