by Rinelle Grey
This was a suicide mission.
Her chances of getting past the forcefield and up to the dragon to attack before he hit her were slim to none.
But if she managed it, then she’d be a hero rather than a failure.
If she failed, well, like her father, she’d be forever remembered for at least having tried, even if the effort had been futile.
That thought was enough to push away any lingering doubts. She needed to do this. For her father.
How though? Despite not wanting to hear his arguments, Bruce did have a point. The lightning dragon was sitting right at the top of the stairs, she could see his bulk blocking the weak, early morning sun, his silver eyes glowing in the shadow as he stared down at her.
He’d fry her before she had a chance of reaching him.
Was he going to sit and watch like that all day?
As she considered, he twitched a little. One eye closed slightly, and his head pulled a little to the left. He moved his body, as though trying to get comfortable, and kept glancing momentarily to the left.
Obviously an injury must be paining him. Narrian knew the distraction of a wound, alternatively itching and stinging, especially if sand was irritating it.
She just needed to be patient.
Narrian wasn’t sure how long they sat there like that, staring at each other, each waiting for their chance. The Trima dragon’s eye twitched several more times, until finally he swung his head around to scratch at his wing.
That was the moment Narrian had been waiting for. She swallowed her usual charging yell, and ran up the stairs as quickly and quietly as she could.
It was as though everything was happening in slow motion. She could feel her heart pounding as her feet flew up the stairs. Saw the dragon’s head move up and down, scratching an itch, then begin to swing back towards her.
Her mind calculated whether she would reach him before his head finished it’s swing, and his eyes fixed on her again, even as she knew she wasn’t going to make it.
She leapt up the last few stairs, flying through the air towards him, claws extended…
The lightning bolt hit right in the middle of her chest, throwing her back. Narrian let out a roar of frustration, seconds before her back hit the middle of the stairs and she passed out.
Chapter 6
Bruce couldn’t look away, despite wanting to. Narrian raced up the stairs towards the beast.
Admiration battled with anger in his mind.
He couldn’t imagine doing anything like that. Leaving relative safety to attack a dragon. She was crazy. But awesome. She did things he could only dream of. Things he enjoyed watching on TV, in the safety of his living room, while reminding himself that his safe, happy life was far better.
She didn’t sit and watch adventure, she lived it.
He couldn’t help feeling a little envious about that.
His heart soared a little as she leapt towards the dragon. He was hoping for victory in every fibre of his being.
But it wasn’t to be. Lightning flared, and then she was tumbling back.
Bruce took a step towards the entrance, his heart in his throat.
Was she dead?
The dragon snaked its neck down, staring at her too.
She didn’t move.
Bruce edged a little closer to the entrance, his heart pounding. The dragon’s head whipped up to stare at him, and he froze.
There was a barrier between them, he tried to remind himself, even if he couldn’t see it. But it didn’t help. He could barely breathe.
Narrian looked so small, crumpled in an unmoving heap.
Just a few moments ago, she’d been racing at that dragon, larger than life. Now… now that was all over.
Her fingers twitched, and Bruce sucked in his breath. She was alive.
Had the dragon seen the movement? He glanced up, but its eyes were fixed on him, not Narrian. It thought she was dead.
Of course, the moment she really moved, that would be over.
Was she inside or outside the barrier? Bruce tried to judge, but he couldn’t remember exactly which step it ended on.
He needed to get her inside the barrier, before the dragon realised she was alive.
He edged a little closer. The dragon’s silver eyes followed him, unblinking. It was more than a little unnerving. He edged a little closer again.
Putting his foot on the first step seemed like a huge risk, but nothing happened. The dragon didn’t blast him. In fact, it almost seemed to smile.
Probably it thought he was going to try to attack it. Well, he wasn’t that stupid.
He glanced down at Narrian, but she wasn’t moving. Had he imagined it? He strained his eyes, and a faint rising and sinking of her chest reassured him. She was still alive.
He edged further forwards, and with each step, the dragon’s eyes grew wider.
Bruce was barely breathing by the time he reached the step two down from Narrian. If he reached out, he could touch her from here.
Slowly, Bruce moved his hand forwards, his eyes not leaving the dragon.
It watched him just as closely, its eyes gleaming.
His hand was only six inches from Narrian’s, when the dragon opened its mouth.
Bruce knew what came next. He snatched his hand back, his heart pounding.
The dragon closed its mouth. It regarded him calmly.
That’s where the barrier was then. And Narrian was on the other side of it.
Now what was he supposed to do?
He knew what she would do, if the situation were reversed. The idea of the situation being reversed, Narrian in here hiding, and him out there being brave, made him laugh out loud.
The dragon’s eyes whirled.
It lifted its head up and roared loudly, the sound shaking the ground.
Bruce didn’t take time to think. The moment the beast’s eyes left his, he reached through the invisible barrier, grabbed Narrian’s hand, and pulled as hard as he could.
Her body slid forwards, bumping down the stairs.
The dragon’s head snapped back down quickly, but not quickly enough. Its lightning blast hit only the shield. Narrian was safely inside.
If you could call sliding down the stairs into a heap at the bottom safe. A faint smell of charred skin filled his nostrils.
Bruce bent over her, feeling just as helpless as he had a few minutes ago. He put his ear down to her chest, trying to hear her heartbeat over his own thumping heart.
It was beating, and her chest was rising and falling. She was alive.
Bruce lifted her under her arms, and pulled her further into the room, around the corner, and away from the sight of the dragon. That made him feel ever so slightly better.
The fact that Narrian wasn’t moving, made him feel worse again.
What did one do to help someone who had been struck by lightning?
Her left shoulder was covered in a network of brown veins, as though the dragon’s blast had burnt an image of his lightning into her skin.
Would she survive this? Bruce had seen the dragons survive some amazing things, but they’d had other dragons to help them.
Or at least humans who knew what they were doing.
He didn’t have any idea.
He fumbled in his pocket for his phone. Maybe he could call Karla? He should have thought of that earlier.
One glance at it reminded him. No reception.
He sank down into a heap next to Narrian, feeling helpless.
Her lips moved, but no sound came out.
Bruce bent down closer.
“Water…” she said faintly.
Jumping up, Bruce fetched a bottle of water from his backpack, and lifted it to her lips.
She drank, water running down the side of her mouth, and pooling on the ground.
Bruce pulled out his handkerchief, and wiped her mouth gently.
She spoke again, her voice hoarse, “I can heal, but you’re going to have to help me enter the Mesmer.”
/> Goosebumps rose all down Bruce’s arms.
The Mesmer. The magical sleep that allowed dragons to heal from even the deadliest of wounds.
That was what he was supposed to be waking the princess from.
He might not know how to help Narrian enter the Mesmer, but he knew full well what happened when she woke up.
In order to regain her full strength, and she was going to need that to have any chance of defeating that dragon, they’d have to sleep together. Heat flushed through him, and his breath caught in his throat. He swallowed, trying to hide the conflict between what his body obviously wanted, and his mind tripped over.
Narrian was watching him, her dark grey eyes half hooded with pain, but he couldn’t see any recognition of that fact on her face. Of course there wasn’t. Dragon’s didn’t see it like humans did. To them, sleeping with someone after the Mesmer was more of a common courtesy than an erotic act.
She’d think Bruce understood that. After all, he’d agreed to wake the princess, and that was essentially the same thing. Why would he hesitate to do the same for her?
Why was he hesitating? She was injured, and he could help her. Now wasn’t the time to be a prude.
Bruce pushed away the lingering doubts, and nodded. “What do I do?”
He hoped his voice wasn’t shaking.
If it was, he hoped she put it down to the near-death experience with the dragon rather than the impending sex they were going to have.
This was no different to sleeping with the princess. It didn’t matter that Narrian was far more available than a princess would be. She wasn’t his type.
She so wasn’t his type.
He wasn’t getting involved. He was just doing this to get them both safely out of here.
She’d do the same for him, he had no doubt.
“You need to use your own breathing, heartrate and brainwaves, to bring mine back to normal” Narrian said, as though that explained it all. “Then I’ll enter the Mesmer.”
She might as well be speaking another language. Bruce understood the words, but not the meaning. “Use my breathing to bring yours back to normal, how do I do that?” he asked, hoping the question didn’t sound stupid.
Narrian seemed remarkably patient for someone who must be in a lot of pain. “You need to just try it. It will come to you.”
Her voice was almost a whisper, and even before she’d finished the last word, her eyes slipped closed.
Bruce didn’t dare push her for more information. She was obviously in a bad way. He’d have to figure this out for himself.
Karla had figured it out, back at the ruined house. If she could, he was sure he could.
At least, that’s what he tried to tell himself.
Right, bring her breathing back to normal. He listened for the sound of her breathing, but it was so faint he could barely hear it. He needed better than that. Bruce reached out to put his hand on her chest, hesitating before he touched her.
Now wasn’t the time to be a prude, he scolded himself. If he was going to help her, he was going to have to do a lot more than put his hand on her chest.
It still felt weird. Even though he tried to position his fingers carefully, he could still feel the swell of her breasts, and he couldn’t help thinking about what was to come.
Breathing. He was focusing on her breathing.
He cleared his mind, and for a moment it was completely blank. Then his focus sharpened, the rise and fall of her chest matching up with the faint sounds of her breath drawing in and out.
It was too shallow, and too faint. His own breath, when he focused on it, was faster, though not much deeper.
It wouldn’t be much use matching her injured breathing to his own panicked one.
Bruce tried to calm himself.
Usually he was good at calm. Very little ruffled him.
But today had pushed a lot of his boundaries, and promised to push a lot more before it was over.
How was he supposed to find calm right now? He was trapped in a cave with an injured, and probably very angry dragon overhead, and a dragon warrior who could well be dying. He couldn’t find anything that promised the hope of finding calm.
He tried to push all his concerns away, to force his mind to slow down and be calm, but the harder he tried, the more all the panicked thoughts clamoured for his attention.
He couldn’t do this.
He wasn’t cut out for this at all. It was good that the princess hadn’t been here for him to wake, because he wasn’t the right person for the job.
Why had they ever chosen him in the first place?
Because they’d had no one else. Just like Narrian had no one else to help her right now.
Even him trying was better than nothing.
Bruce gave up on trying to calm his own breathing. It was better than Narrian’s. At least it was strong and sure. She could calm herself once she was healed.
That just brought his attention back to the fact that he didn’t know what to do next, and his breathing grew more rapid.
Bruce took a deep breath, and deliberately slowed his own breathing. He listened to every breath in and out Narrian took, noting that it didn’t match up with his in any way. Hers seemed very out of cadence, and the more he listened to it, the worse it seemed. It began to make him feel bad, deep in his chest.
After a few moments, he realised he was deliberately timing his own breaths to be more in synch with hers. Surely that wouldn’t help?
But it seemed better. The strange heaviness in his chest was easing.
Narrian’s breathing seemed to be easier too.
Bruce heaved a sigh of relief, and Narrian echoed it.
Did that mean their breathing was synched? Was hers normal again?
It was close enough, he decided. Now what else did he have to fix? She’d said her heartrate. Now that he wasn’t focused so much on her breathing, he was aware that he could feel her heartbeat under his hand too.
It seemed somehow very intimate, to be listening to her heartbeat. Bruce let himself feel it for a few minutes, before reminding himself that he had a job to do.
He needed to use his own heartbeat to bring hers back to normal.
It wasn’t as easy to hear his heartbeat as it was his breathing. Bruce put one hand over his heart, but he kept getting confused between which was his heartbeat, and which was Narrian’s.
Hers was the one beating too fast, wasn’t it?
His wasn’t exactly normal. But it would have to do.
Unlike his breathing, he couldn’t control his heartrate, so he couldn’t bring it in line with hers. Bruce floundered for a moment, not sure where to even start. Then he gave up, and just listened.
He put his trust in the dragon magic. Surely it would work.
With every beat, they seemed to get closer together.
Suddenly everything went chaotic again. Narrian was barely breathing, and Bruce realised he was holding his breath. He let it out in a gasp, and she started breathing again too.
It hit Bruce, that right now, he was responsible for whether she lived or died.
If he messed up, she’d pay for it.
Why hadn’t anyone given him instruction on how to do this before he’d come on this trip? Surely they had to have known it was possible that something would go wrong. It wasn’t like any one of these awakenings had been drama free.
Narrian’s heartrate was erratic now too.
He needed to calm himself.
Bruce took a deep breath.
At least it looked like Narrian’s heartrate was synched with his too. There was just one thing left. What was it?
Narrian had said… brainwaves. That was it.
Bruce was at a loss with that one. He had no way of detecting her brainwaves, or his. Maybe they’d naturally synch up, now that their breathing and heartrate was.
For a moment, he sat watching her breathing in and out, trying not to think too hard.
Probably he didn’t want thoughts running in
circles around his head anyway. That wouldn’t be calming. Narrian would need to be calm to enter the Mesmer sleep, wouldn’t she?
Probably she’d need to be… well… asleep.
He remembered walking in on Karla then, curled up against Taurian, both of them asleep. The memory of the embarrassment he’d felt made him cringe, but it did give him a clue.
Maybe in order to get Narrian into the Mesmer sleep, he had to go to sleep himself.
Bruce hesitated. If he were wrong, Narrian could die while he slept.
That’s if he could even get to sleep. He was so wound up with that dragon outside that he wasn’t sure he could.
But the dragon couldn’t get in. They were safe here.
He looked down at Narrian.
It was as though she were connected to him by an invisible lifeline.
It was the strangest feeling, being one with a dragon warrior. His heartbeat didn’t seem quite his own. And yet it was.
He’d never felt this kind of connection to anyone before. Even being with Karla, after four years together, hadn’t ever felt like this. He wondered, briefly, if Karla had been right. Maybe he hadn’t loved her as much as he’d thought he did.
He felt a kind of fatalistic calm. This was it. Either this was going to work, or it wasn’t. He was out of other ideas. Couldn’t even think of anything else to consider.
So he lay down next to her on the stone floor, it’s cool surface a welcome change from the stifling air around them, and tried to sleep.
Chapter 7
Narrian became aware of her surroundings slowly. First the cool stone floor, then the warmth of a body, curled up next to hers.
She turned her head slightly, orientating herself. Midmorning sun streamed down the stairs, leaving a glowing rectangle of sunlight on the floor. No sign of a dragon shadow.
Bruce’s hand was on her chest, rising and falling with each breath she took.
Each breath she was capable of because of him.
He’d helped her, even though she hadn’t listened to him. He’d been right, she’d had no chance against the Trima dragon. But she hadn’t listened. She’d gone out there anyway, and he’d still helped her.
