Relentless Fire
A Novel of the Dracol
By Michelle Howard
Edited by Megan Records
Published by MH Publications
Copyright © 2017 by Michelle Howard
License Notes
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this novel with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please buy an additional copy for each recipient.
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Thank you for respecting the author's hard work.
This is a work of fiction and is not a reflection or representation of any person living or dead. Any similarity is of pure coincidence.
Chapter 1
Varyk huddled closer to Milana in an effort to protect her. He might be young, but his duty as the oldest by seconds required him to look after her. Milana shivered in his arms, her fat fingers pressed tight to her ears to block out the sounds. Varyk wished he could do the same but fear kept him from loosening his grip on his sister. Born together, she was his other half. Never had two Dracol been birthed at the same time of the same shell.
A gift, their mother declared.
An abomination, their father countered.
Shouts from the outer room were followed by a loud crash. Varyk winced and leaned over Milana to cover her as much as his small body could. Everything had happened so quickly. The fight escalating before anyone could stop it. Now Varyk and his sister hid under the bed in their room. The hiding place provided little coverage but to leave this space would be foolish. Their mother and father were yelling and fighting again.
Teela was once more doing her best to come between her children and their father, the King, Core of the Green. Some whispered madness held a lock on his mind. Others claimed the weight of the mantle proved too heavy. All Varyk knew was that the man who taught him to shift into his Dracol form with gentle coaxing no longer existed.
In recent years, his father grew short tempered, angry and quiet. Core was at his most dangerous when quiet. He lashed out at his advisor, grew discontent with his lira and in his finest moments he sought a target for the rising tide of his fury.
Varyk and Milana became his favorite outlet. He took to tearing them apart when they failed in his eyes, separating them when he knew how it frightened Milana. More and more Varyk learned to hide his interest in anything he liked for fear it would be taken away. His father loved ripping things from them and destroying it while demanding they watch.
“Leave, Core. Come back when you are calmer,” his mother pleaded from the outer room.
“Send the boy out, Teela. It’s time we see if he has what it takes to one day replace me.”
Varyk froze and a fine tremor rolled down his back. Dark and twisted, his father’s voice filled his veins with ice. His heart slammed harder against his chest and Milana whimpered. Varyk hated the fear. And in this moment, with the scent of his sister’s terror filling his nostrils, Varyk hated the King of the Green. The male threatening them was no longer his father.
“Move, Teela.”
“You will not touch them.”
Something hard slammed into the door followed by his mother’s pained shriek. Varyk jumped to his feet, breaking his sister’s hold. He threw blankets and toys over her hiding spot and darted toward the door. The wood splintered before he reached it, his father’s menacing presence filling the door way.
Malevolence slowly eased into the room, thick and cloying with every stride his father took. Varyk choked back a cry but refused to retreat. Behind his father, his mother’s body was sprawled across the floor. Her face tipped in his direction, pink lips parted. Tears burned and his throat tightened as he noticed her body angled in the opposite direction.
Sobs broke free and Core halted, planting his fists on his hips. Dressed in green leathers and a green vest parted down the middle, he presented an intimidating image. “You cry for the whore’s death?”
Varyk flinched, unsure of the meaning but not liking the tone his father used. Green hair fell from a center part to fall just below Core’s ears. Power flared in erratic ripples, pressing upon Varyk and frightening his other half.
“Answer me, boy!” His father suddenly screamed.
Varyk sniffled and wiped at the snot on his face. He didn’t know what to say. All he knew was that his mother was gone and nothing stood between his sister and this mad man except him. At ten years of age, he was no match for the King. Dracol were powerful beings, but none more so then the one who wore the mantle. The ancient symbol of power and gift from the goddess granted the wearer the strength of many.
Core took another step forward, his low growl pouring forth in an endless stream. Gold eyes which once glinted with laughter and pride now glowed with flashes of evil. Green scales covered one side of his face caught in a twisted partial shift.
“I should have snapped your neck after you drew your first breath. Two Dracol in the same shell.” His father’s lips curled in disgust. “Surely I should have heeded the sign and ignored your mother’s pretty begging.”
Terror danced along Varyk’s spine.
Core extended his hand and flexed his fingers. As if sensing his son’s worry, his demeanor changed. Became less threatening. “Come to me, son. It’s long past time to correct my error. I promise to make your death painless.”
Lips quivering, Varyk asked the most important question. “What of Milana?”
Core’s chuckle offered no reassurance. “Your sister will be safe. I vow it.”
Varyk didn’t believe him, but what choice did he have? He wasn’t strong enough to fight.
“Leave him alone.” Milana burst from beneath the bed, her thin body trembling as she raced crossed the room to stand in front of Varyk.
Core dropped the façade of tenderness. He glared from Milana to Varyk then flung his other hand out. Vaporous gas surged out.
“King Core, No.” Uvem, the king’s advisor entered the room, lines creasing his mouth and gaze drawn tight.
The green dissipated. Core glanced over his shoulder at the dark-haired man who’d been far more than friend. He was family, but the way his father glared stated he didn’t care or remember those years. If his father ignored Uvem there would be no help for them. Waves of fear engulfed Varyk and his bladder suddenly voided.
As with any of the recent bad moments in his life, Core noticed. His nose curled in disgust as he spat out, “Weak. By the scales, my son is weak.”
Weakness accurately described the way his limbs trembled. Varyk eased in front of Milana. She shook so hard her tiny body rocked him from behind.
“Sire, leave the little ones and come speak with me.”
A sneer twisted his father’s lips. “You forget yourself, Uvem.”
Saying no more, his father, the man Varyk had once admired, leaped forward and lashed out at Varyk. Before he could blink, pain ripped across his chest. He fell to the floor, his sister’s scream ringing in his ears. Varyk rolled to the side and pressed his hand to the burning sensation. Wet seeped between his fingers. His father laughed long and loud over Uvem’s roar.
Struggling to his knees, Varyk wobbled, his vision hazy. Core tossed Uvem across the room, sending his advisor to skid over the floor until his head slammed into the wall. Wasting no time, Core surged once more for Varyk.
Sharp talons bit through his thin shirt as his father lifted him with one hand and shook his small frame. His wet pants clung to his legs, the sour odor of urine making his
heart race. Terror filled his throat, tears rolling down his cheek. “Father, please.”
“Silence!”
The Dracol sound of rage grabbed his attention. Varyk quivered and bit his tongue hard to keep from crying out. He knew in this moment his life would end, but faced his father with every bit of bravery his mother once praised him for. Amber eyes blazing with the glint of madness stared back.
Any facet of the proud man and respectable King who’d raised him was gone. The father who hugged him and soothed his worries no longer existed. Varyk swallowed, refusing to close his eyes as he prepared for death.
A low snarl came from behind Varyk right before his father’s hold slackened. He fell to the floor, legs crashing.
“No!” Uvem’s voice. The sound of running then the door opened wide. “Summon every warrior available.”
Varyk crawled to all fours. Feminine snivels sent him to his feet, urgency lending him strength. “Milana!”
His sister curled on the floor, beside his father’s limp body. Blood spattered her cheeks, a deeper stain on the front of her sleep gown. Varyk lurched up and ran toward her. Nothing must happen to his sister. They were one.
Boots stormed into the room, signaling the arrival of the Green. He spared them no glance. “Milana?”
She lifted her chin to meet his gaze. With wide eyes and a wobbling lip, she held up her hands and Varyk froze. From the forearm down, green scales covered her arms and sharp claws had replaced her hands. Females weren’t supposed to shift.
His gaze met the horror in her eyes. Varyk pressed her hands down, crowding close to shield her. “Make it go away, Milana. Hide it.”
Varyk worried others might take her ability as a sign their father’s rantings were right. Gazes already watched with suspicion due to their rare birth. Two born within one shell. An aberration.
Claws and scales faded under his gaze then Uvem and two of his father’s best warriors came close.
“Quickly,” Uvem shouted to the males as two more rushed in. “The mantle will pass soon.”
The mantle. The source of power for all Dracol sects.
Varyk shivered and wrapped an arm about his sister’s shoulders. She leaned her weight into him, her body shaking hard enough he feared her teeth would shatter. Tears shimmered on her lids then fell, but she didn’t make a sound as she cried.
The five gathered dropped to their knees, heads bowed in preparation. His father’s body arched from the floor as his Dracol passed into the next life. A soft breeze flowed into the room, kicking up into a fierce wind within moments. Bright red blood ran in a trail toward Varyk’s foot as he huddled on the floor, and lowered his head to the top of his sister’s.
As the mantle left Core it would seek another to be the next King, but only from those present. Varyk had never witnessed the passing of the power structure. His father had become king of the Green long before his birth and years before his mating to Teela. A part of Varyk knew he should care that his father lay dead only feet away, but horror kept him from moving.
A blast of energy shot out in waves unchecked as it sought a new source to house the base of the Green. The males, strong warriors, cried out. Muscles strained as their bodies attempted to harness the power of the mantle. Varyk’s grip on his sister tightened
It wouldn’t last long. Mere moments according to the lessons he’d studied. That was Varyk’s last clear thought before agony burst in his chest.
“Varyk!” Milana yelled his name.
Dimly, he realized he’d lost his hold on his sister. Pain ravaged and Varyk fell backward. Nothing in his short life had prepared him for such agony, though young his Dracol attempted to come to his aid. Small surges from his essence attempted to counter the fury and confusion battering at him, seeking acceptance.
Fire blazed up his back and shattered screams ripped past Varyk’s clenched teeth. He rolled to his front, his hands stretching out toward Milana for help. She scrabbled over the floor, diving for him, their fingertips brushing before Uvem hooked an arm about her waist.
“No.” The man whom Varyk looked to for guidance as his father slipped into madness pulled Milana away and tossed her to one of the now standing guards.
Betrayed, Varyk could only stare, but the image of Uvem’s concerned features blurred as the screams of hundreds poured into his head. Varyk flopped onto his back. His lips parted to beg for help but only a broken whimper escaped.
When Uvem knelt beside him, Varyk felt on the verge of dying.
“I am here.” Gentle hands brushed sweat soaked hair from his forehead. Varyk shuddered and sensed an easing of the avalanche. “Relax. Don’t fight.”
Dry of mouth, he gasped, “W-what’s happening?”
Instead of responding, Uvem cupped his jaw and studied his face in silence. Regret flashed before he turned away to announce in a clear voice, “Long live King Varyk of the Green.”
Who? Who would replace his father? More important, where was his sister?
Another bout of wrenching pain slashed at his gut.
“Look at me, King Varyk.”
The grip on his chin tightened with brutal force. Varyk’s eyes glazed, but he managed to focus. “Yes, Uvem.”
The man he considered as close as an uncle smiled, a tinge of relief lighting his gaze. “Very good. Now reach for the mantle and give it to me.”
Varyk flinched and instinct prevailed. The Dracol deep within him flush with power even as it burned to contain it, refused the order. “N...no.”
“You must. Listen to me.” Uvem shook Varyk’s head for good measure. “You are far too young to hold the mantle. It will kill you. I’ll hold it until you’re older and pass it back.”
A frown creased Varyk’s brow and he tried to make sense of the words. The mantle only transferred through death. More alarm flared at the thought. “I don’t want to die, Uvem.”
This time Uvem’s smile strained. Warm arms pulled and cradled Varyk close. “You won’t. The mantle has chosen and chosen well but...you won’t survive. The Green aren’t ready to follow you yet, my king. But they will. One day when you rise to take your place, all will know the might of King Varyk of the Green.”
Voices cried out in the back of his head, joined by screams of desperation. It was the call of his people seeking reassurance. They knew their king had fallen and needed direction. Needed someone to lead.
Varyk curled his fists at his side and tried not to collapse beneath the weight of the energy pouring into him. He didn’t know what to do.
“Varyk, don’t leave me!”
Milana. Varyk tried to twist about to see her, but weakness prevented the effort. His Dracol cried out, no longer able to withstand the onslaught. Varyk reached for his sister in distress. “Milana, help me!”
“King Varyk. Please.” Uvem’s voice took on a desperate pleading edge Varyk had never heard him use.
Tears streaked his cheeks. Varyk tipped back his head to face his only hope. He didn’t know what else to do. “Help me, Uvem.”
“Very good.” Uvem cupped his face in both hands and leaned forward. “Trust me.”
Green streams of vapor unfurled from Uvem’s nose. Without being told, Varyk opened his mouth and inhaled deeply. Poisonous to others, the essence of the Green filled him. Instead of pain, relief eased the burn tearing through his back.
“Now let it go,” Uvem snapped on a command.
Varyk jerked, his back arching as something ripped down his spine. He screamed one long note of terror and green vapors burst from his eyes, mouth and nose. Uvem leaned forward and parted his lips as multiple ribbons flowed into his mouth. He closed his eyes and consumed all that made the mantle.
Varyk slumped over when the last of it drained. Uvem leaned over him, resting their heads together and whispered, “You will be a king among kings. I vow it.”
Chapter 2
“Do you know what today is?”
His sister burst into his office with no respect for the privacy signaled by his clo
sed door, Varyk sighed and pushed aside the ledger he’d been working on. Pinching the bridge of his nose to relieve the building pressure, he asked, “What is today?”
She strolled in with a sense of belonging no other would have dared. Confidence oozed from her as she braced a hip on the corner of Varyk’s desk. “It is visiting day.”
He masked his flinch. Barely. Visiting day. How could he have forgotten? It was a day they respected for the last twelve years since he took on the mantle. Varyk shook his head and stood. Although the results of the visits stayed the same, he didn’t have it in him to deny his sister.
“I forgot.”
Her eyes darkened in sympathy as she rounded his desk and brushed a hand through his shoulder length green hair. Hair that had transitioned from reddish brown to green on his one hundredth year of birth. “I wish I could.”
Neither of them would ever forget the events of the day long ago. Nor what had occurred later, enabling Varyk to take over in his role as King.
“Come.” He grasped her hand. “We will make it short and spend our time on other matters to keep our hearts light.”
Happiness removed the misery from her gaze. “Santos is expecting me to be with you for most of the day so I have time to play.”
Varyk snorted as he tugged on her fingers to drag her from the sudden oppressive space of his office. Milana’s mate was besotted with her and not afraid to show it. Varyk rested well at night knowing his sister’s heart was in good hands.
Greetings rang out as they walked the hall of his home. While Varyk maintained his stoic expression and nodded to everyone, Milana called out names, laughing at joking comments and responding in kind. He lacked the ability to be so open with his people. The weight of his responsibilities pressed in on him more of late.
Varyk longed for the social gift his sister possessed, but it was not to be. In the beginning after accepting the mantle, he practiced a reserved demeanor deliberately. There had been those who tried to make ruling difficult, but Varyk quelled the minor resistance with brute force. It hadn’t taken more than twice for his people to settle and accept his leadership.
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