Warrior Lover (Draconia Tales)

by Karilyn Bentley

  Nothing. He saw Keara kneeling by Thoren, her body swaying. Was Thoren de—? His brain stuttered on the word, refusing to let it out. Keara was beside his friend. She would heal Thoren.

  He prayed.

  No use thinking about it. Shoving his feelings into a dark corner of his soul, he grabbed the sword and stuck it through his belt as he began to circle the perimeter of the clearing back the way he came.

  His palm still tingled from where it grasped the hilt of the sword. If titanium affected him, he could only imagine what it must feel like to a Draconi.

  A movement in the trees where Keara tended Thoren caught his attention. Where was Keara? His heart jumped, fluttering as he sucked in a breath. There. By Thoren. Why was she laying facedown?

  Two shadows walked out of the trees, converging on where Keara and Thoren lay unmoving on the ground. Had she died? What happened to her?

  No time to think about her, when Simon and the rogue Draconi hovered over Thoren. Simon, who had captured Keara and threatened a female Draconi’s life, who had driven a sword through his friend. Simon, who was about to breathe his last.

  Simon and the Draconi gestured to Thoren, arguing about something. He stepped closer, not bothering to mask the crunch of leaves under his boots. So engrossed in their conversation, they didn’t even hear his approach. His loud, noisy approach.

  Stupid bastards.

  Keara lay by Thoren, toppled onto the bed of leaves like she slept. Thoren lay on his side, facing Enar, his brow furrowed. Alive!

  The thought no sooner crossed his mind than he squelched the emotion. No time for emotions, he needed to kill the two who threatened his friend.

  The hooded Draconi faced Enar, standing opposite Simon.

  “Stop arguing and kill him.” Magic layered the words. Magic spoken by the bloody Draconi. Affected by the magical tone, Simon raised his sword.

  Which was the last thing the bastard did.

  Double-handing Blood Seeker, Enar swung, the blade slicing into Simon’s neck, blood spurting over Thoren.

  Clearly blood had gotten into his eyes too. He blinked a blurry vision at Thoren, who sat, blinking at him. Both males swiped a hand across their eyes. He wasn’t crying. Watchers didn’t do such feminine things.

  Especially when an enemy still remained.

  The Draconi clapped, the slap of his palms stilling the insect chatter. “Thank you. He was getting annoying.”

  Enar peered into the folds of the cowl, trying to see the Draconi’s face, meeting up with a whole lot of darkness. Not a trait to describe him.

  Between one breath and the next, Thoren jumped to his feet, tackling the Draconi around the waist, slamming them both into the ground. The Draconi flipped Thoren onto his back, one hand posed for an energy blast.

  Not happening. Enar kicked the Draconi in the shoulder, flipping him off Thoren and pointed the tip of the titanium sword at the bastard’s heart. With one smooth roll, the Draconi crouched staring at the two, surprise rolling out of the dark recesses of his cowl. What he wouldn’t give to disobey the Council and kill the bastard where he crouched on the ground. Unfortunately, he had to return the goat sucker for interrogation.

  “Titanium is a bitch, eh?”

  The Draconi’s head wavered as he took in Enar’s stance and then looked at Thoren.

  “Bid your aunt greetings from me.” Jumping to his feet, he spun and ran, his cloak disappearing into the shadows.

  Enar pounded after him, refusing to let his prey run off. Deeper into the forest they dashed, until he no longer saw the Draconi. Pulling to a halt, Enar looked around. Nothing. Whispering branches and the ragged gasps of his breathing echoed off the trunks.

  No Draconi.

  Goddess’s teeth. Had the Draconi managed to transport despite the titanium sword?

  Tilting his head back, he took in the branches. No Draconi hiding up a tree. No Draconi on the ground. And without a torch, he couldn’t track the bastard’s trail.

  He cursed.

  No use standing around the trees staring at shadows. He ran back to Thoren and Keara, his boots slapping against the carpet of leaves, his breath heaving through his lips. Darting around a tree, he dashed to where Thoren knelt before Keara.

  “Lost him,” Enar gasped, dropping both swords as he bent over, hands on his knees, his breath ragged. Definitely needed running practice.

  “She won’t wake.” Anguish laced Thoren’s voice. “I need to get her back to the Temple but that sword is prohibiting it. I don’t know what’s wrong with her!”

  “It might have...something to do with her...raising both of us...from the dead.” He gasped like an overweight dragon on a dash for gold.

  “We died?”

  Enar wiped Blood Seeker’s blade on Simon’s tunic, trying to get his wheezing breaths under control. “Being stabbed generally does that to a person.” He sheathed Blood Seeker and knelt by Thoren. “I need running practice.”

  “Or bigger lungs.”

  “Thank you.” Thoren clasped Enar on the shoulder.

  The bloody ache started again in his chest and Thoren’s face blurred. Enar blinked, shrugging.

  “What do we do with the titanium sword?”

  “The Draconi mentioned a safe distance of thirty paces. If you hide it, can you remember where it is?”

  “Do I look like a dumb goat?”

  Thoren stared at him, one eyebrow cocked at an angle.

  “Thanks. It’s nice to see you again too. I’ll go hide the sword. Don’t leave without me.”

  He strode across the clearing, counting his steps, wondering what else the Draconi said while standing next to Thoren. Why did the bastard come for Thoren? Or had they come for Keara? Why, why, why?

  He sounded like a toddler.

  Taking extra steps for good measure, he placed the sword below a tree root and buried it under a pile of leaves. Keeping to the shadows, he circled around to where Thoren held Keara in his arms.

  “It’s done. Is it far enough for you to get us out of here?” Enar placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

  Thoren formed an energy ball in his palm. Guess that was a yes. “Hold on.”

  Thoren transported them to the Temple Courtyard and ran, carrying Keara, into the Temple, Enar dashing behind. Clearly his friend was rattled by either Keara’s condition or being raised from the dead. Why else would he land them in the Courtyard instead of in the infirmary?

  As they ran, Thoren used mind-speak to call Annaliese, his voice slamming through Enar’s mind like a burst of energy. The air swirled in front of them and with a muted pop Annaliese appeared.

  “What...By the Goddess! Bring her in here!” She shoved open a door and Thoren rushed inside, laying Keara on the bed.

  “What happened? She left to tell Father about a vision she saw of you injured. Are you well?”

  “Well enough. She won’t wake. Can you help her?”

  Annaliese placed a hand on Keara’s brow and closed her eyes. Her eyes flew open, wide and frightened.

  “She raised you!”

  How did she know that? He’d been taught Draconi considered it rude to forge into another’s mind without permission. But Draconi also blocked out other’s probing thoughts, allowing them privacy. Perhaps the priestesses thought themselves above societal rules and read minds at will.

  He shoved extra barriers around his thoughts.

  “Don’t say that out loud.” Thoren hissed, crossing his arms. “Do you know what others will do if they discover her gift?”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just...not even my mother had the ability to raise the dead. I’ve never seen it done before.”

  “How did you know what she did?”

  “I need Aryana. Only she has the ability to heal Keara. I’ll return.” The air shimmered as she disappeared.

  “You get the feeling she doesn’t want to speak on how she knew Keara was a death raiser?” Enar slumped against the door, arms folded.

  Speaking as he moved, Thoren gr
abbed a chair and placed it by Keara’s side. “Just because we can mind-speak doesn’t mean we can invade another’s mind. Unless we project them to another, our thoughts belong to us.”

  “You sure about that?”

  Thoren stared at Keara, lost in thought. Or maybe he was just ignoring Enar.

  “Thoren?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “She’ll live. Ari will work her magic—”

  “Ari? You’re on a pet name basis with my aunt?”

  And between one breath and the next his comforting words ran against a wall of anger. Enar gave a silent curse. He did not need to go in the direction this conversation headed. He did not need a reminder of a past indiscretion. Of how he skirted the laws and danced with death. Watchers weren’t supposed to touch Draconi females. Thoren looked the other way as did most Draconi his age. Females should have a right to choose who they slept with and not be bound by ancient societal rules.

  But Ari?

  Any male besides a Draconi who touched the High Priestess did so on punishment of death.

  And he hadn’t needed to use his magic to convince her to lay with him. He hadn’t convinced her of anything. She started and ended the entire relationship for reasons he never knew. Never cared to know. Over and done now. He had Lily. Why bring out old affairs?

  But red suffused Thoren’s face and Enar doubted he’d get out of this conversation unscathed.

  Son of a bloody goat.

  “You didn’t.”

  Enar shrugged, answering with the only thing that mattered. “I have Lily now.”

  “She’s my aunt!”

  “You didn’t have a problem with it when it was a female in some village.”

  “But Ari is not a female in some village. She’s my aunt!”

  “It’s over. We ended it.”

  “You ended it? You mean it was more than once?”

  “Do you really want to hear this now?” Enar gestured to Keara. “What’s done is done. In the past. Over.”

  Thoren shoved a hand through his hair, his hand cranked into a fist. The air crackled with tension and Enar shifted, tightening his fists. He might deserve Thoren’s punch, but it didn’t mean he’d roll over and take more than one hit.

  Pop! Pop!

  Aryana and Annaliese appeared in front of them, both females hurrying to Keara’s side. Ari stopped, though, and looked from Thoren to Enar and back again, her eyes narrowing. One finger pointed at Thoren.

  “We’ll discuss your discussion later.”

  He swallowed at the implication. Clearly, the priestesses jumped at will into minds despite barriers erected to keep them out. And he had never even felt Ari brush against his mind.

  A chill snuck down his spine and he shivered it gone.

  “Move away from the bed.” Aryana motioned Thoren back and he scooted the chair against the wall.

  Enar took the steps necessary to stand in front of Thoren. Keara’s condition eclipsed what lay festering between them like a rotten carcass. Thoren needed his support.

  Or not.

  Thoren slugged him on the shoulder and walked to the bed. Enar swallowed. His friend would get over his anger. With Thoren, anger was like a spark from a fire-starter, hot and bright and if you did nothing to stoke it, it faded into ash.

  Aryana rested her hand against Keara’s brow, eyes closed, her face relaxed.

  When she spoke, her gaze fixed on Thoren. “She is drained of energy. Annaliese told me what Keara did. I’m sorry, but it will have to be reported to Alviss.”

  “I know. I just don’t want everyone knowing. Can you heal her?”

  “I can try. No guarantees.”

  Annaliese placed both hands over Keara’s heart and Aryana placed hers on top of Annaliese’s. Chills broke out over Enar’s skin as Aryana chanted in a language he’d never heard. The sing-song words rose and fell, filling the room with a spell as old as the Draconi race, a spell of powerful magic. Aryana’s hands started to glow, the light spilling into Annaliese’s.

  A current shot through the room, ricocheting off the stone walls, bathing them in a blue glow. Enar felt the magic push against his skin, wanting his power, his strength.

  Unlike his conscious, the small drop of magic he’d inherited from his mother knew what spell Ari cast and shrank in fear. He needed to hide that part, hide the magic festering inside, the magic Aryana’s spell sought. No one, with the possible exception of his parents, knew what resided inside him. His inner magic that he swore caused Viktor to hate him, to degrade him. He refused for anyone else to know his inner secret.

  What would Thoren think? What if his best friend saw his magic and rejected him?

  Instead of being all up inside his mind, he needed to focus on the problem at hand and set up barriers to ensure Ari’s spell didn’t touch him.

  Who was he fooling? He was dealing with a Draconi spell. Resistance was futile.

  Whatever spell Ari weaved resonated deep within, drawing forth his magic, pulling it out to help Keara.

  Just because it went to a good cause didn’t mean he had to like it.

  Enar fought against the spell, unwilling for anyone, not even his best friend, to know he possessed a bit of magic. But the current in the room pounded against his skin, crashing through the meager barriers he tried to erect, seeking his magic. He let loose with a yell as the blue current blasted into him, sucking on his energy, drawing out a small portion of it to hover over the priestess’s joined hands.

  Great jumping dragons, what was in that spell? He felt as if pieces of his innards had been yanked out through his nose. Pain he could live with. It was Thoren’s reaction he worried about.

  Clearly for no reason. Thoren only had eyes for Keara. He didn’t notice what happened to Enar.

  Praise the Goddess.

  More energy filled the room, blue light pouring through the windows, the cracks in the door, the walls. Small magical portions from who-knew-how-many formed a ball of blue energy that hovered above Aryana’s hands, growing larger with each stream of light that entered it. The priestesses exchanged a look, a silent communication, and removed their hands from Keara’s chest. The ball slammed into Keara, bowing her off the bed as it covered her with its glow. Keara gasped in air, her body slamming into the mattress as the blue glow intensified.

  “What did you do?” Thoren rushed to Keara’s side, one hand hovering as if to touch her.

  “Don’t touch her! The spell might target you instead.” Annaliese grabbed Thoren’s arm.

  “I gave her more energy,” Aryana said. “She’d drained hers raising both of you. Do I even want to know how the finest reconnaissance specialists ever managed to get themselves killed?”

  “They had a titanium sword,” Enar said. Good for him. He could still speak after the blast of blue light.

  “Titanium?” Annaliese gasped.

  “How did they discover the effect titanium has on a Draconi?” Aryana’s eyes popped wide.

  Good question. Thoren shrugged. “I don’t know, but the Draconi—”

  “A Draconi?”

  “He was working with one of the lords from Keara’s town. He said he wanted revenge. He seemed to recognize me, though, because he referred to me as the ‘bitch’s nephew’ and told me to give my aunt his regards. I’m assuming he meant you.”

  Aryana stopped breathing as she exchanged a look with Annaliese. “What did he look like?” Her voice shook and despite their past history, Enar felt an urge to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

  “I don’t know. He wore a cloak that concealed his face.”

  “He ran fast,” Enar added. “I lost him and I don’t normally lose my prey.”

  “Maybe that had something to do with you gasping like an old dragon.”

  “You try running after being killed with an energy ball and then rising from the dead. See how fast you go.”

  “Enough!” Aryana sliced a hand through the air. “You need to report these findings to the Council.”


  “Report away. I’m needed here with Keara.” Thoren crossed his arms in an I’m-not-going-anywhere stance.

  Annaliese placed a hand on Thoren’s arm, her face a mask of healer’s kindness. “Keara is going nowhere nor is she waking until the energy is released into her body. See how it’s still visible? She’ll wake when the blue disappears, which won’t be for some time. Go make your report and return.”

  Thoren snarled and Enar yanked him back. “Relax, Thoren. She’s right.”

  Not that he blamed Thoren. If Lily was lying in the bed instead of Keara, he would be performing the same act.

  Shaking off Enar’s hand, Thoren turned to Aryana. “We need to talk.”

  “No, we do not. My body is mine to give as I will and you will not report it either.”

  “What’s to stop me?”

  “I know something you don’t want told and you know something I’d like to keep secret. We are at an impasse, are we not?”

  Well, that was one way to stop Thoren’s righteous anger. Blackmail. Enar tried to keep his lips from turning in mirth. His secret would remain a secret.

  Thoren ran a hand through his hair and glanced at Keara, clearly trying to decide why he was upset. His thoughts reached Enar, thoughts of his sense of right and wrong. Once they got through this, Enar never wanted to upset Thoren like this again. He hid the affair on the advice of Ari, never realizing it would affect Thoren this way.

  He should have known better.

  Which did nothing for the current situation. They would get through this. He refused to lose his best friend.

  “Deal.” Thoren cleared his throat. “You have my word I will not mention your...indiscretion if you do not mention Keara’s ability.”

  “I’m glad you see things my way. Now go and report. Return by morning and Keara will be as you left her.”

  Thoren clapped a hand against Enar’s back and transported them to the Council’s Chamber. Instead of sitting in their chairs, the thirteen males clustered around the seeing ball.

  “How is my granddaughter? I cannot see her in the ball,” Alviss shoved his way out of the pack of males and shuffled toward them.

  “Aryana performed a spell to replenish her energy.” Thoren said. “So you saw everything?”