Into a Dragon's Soul: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (Chronicles of the Four Book 3)

by Marissa Farrar

  From above, the dragon dived down. His mouth opened, and fire streamed over the creatures. The things shrieked, goose bumps crawling over Warsgra’s skin at the sound, but those the fire hit had hunkered down, pulling their shell-like wings over their bodies as protection. The fire hadn’t hurt them, but it had slowed them down. It was a small thing to be thankful for, but thankful, he was.

  Warsgra found himself standing shoulder to shoulder with two human men. He stood at least a foot taller than both of the men, and they gave him an unsure glance, but he returned their look with a serious nod. Dela was right when she said they needed to be united. He hadn’t anticipated it happening quite this soon.

  They stood their ground, the men with their swords and him with the axe he’d taken from Mudurt. The creatures’ pace had been slowed by the attack of fire, but they began to unfurl themselves.

  The leader of the humans roared, “Charge!”

  And they did. Warsgra had never thought he’d take orders from a human, yet he joined them in a roar as they stormed up the mountainside toward the swarm.

  The stink of a thousand men and horses. The wild cries. The pounding of feet.

  A kind of joyous elation rose up inside Warsgra. There was no other feeling like it. Where were the others? Norcs were interspersed with humans. But what had happened to Orergon and Vehel? Where had they ended up in this fray? He tried to spot them, but it was impossible in the rush, the numerous male heads all blending into one, even though both Orergon and Vehel stood out among the humans and Norcs.

  They were close—maybe only a hundred feet separating them from the horde of creatures. Warsgra tried not to think about it too hard, knowing if he thought about how the huge, shiny, black eyes of the creatures looked angry and soulless, about how sharp the claws appeared, how endless its gullet as it opened its mouth and screamed. And, knowing he’d have to fight his feet to stop himself turning and running in the opposite direction, he tried not to think how many there were and how they didn’t appear bothered by the army of people racing toward them.

  He locked his sights on one of the creatures. He’d have to take them down one at a time. The wings acted like a shield, so he needed to get the blade of the axe into the softer parts of its body, if he was able to. His war cry matched the shriek of the creature as the two halves of the warring armies clashed. Instantly, the air was filled with the shrieks and cries of both man and beast. There was movement all around him, the heat of breath and dripping sweat warming the ice beneath their feet.

  The thing lunged for him, its wings spreading to lift its body off the ground as it flew. Their flight wasn’t the graceful soaring of the dragon, more a long jump, awkward and bumbling. Their bodies too large. Their wings too solid. Perhaps once upon a time they’d been able to fly properly, but they evolved for their wings to be more use as a protective shield than a flying aid.

  Warsgra let out a yell and swung the axe. The blade hit the creature in the stomach, between its front and middle legs, but that didn’t stop it coming. The force of its momentum sent Warsgra flying backward, and he found himself on his back, struggling beneath it. The creature’s mandibles opened and closed right above his face, and he leaned back into the dirt as much as he could, while trying to wrench the axe out of its gut to allow him to take another strike.

  Others hit the dirt around him. The dismembered leg of one of the creatures twitched beside his head. A human male a couple of feet away went down screaming, his sword lost, trying to fight the thing with his bare hands.

  It was carnage.

  Warsgra had been holding off the creature’s face with one hand, while trying to wrench out the axe with the other. It was covered in an exoskeleton, but one far thinner than the type of armor that covered its wing case. Warsgra had to risk it. He lifted both feet, planting them against the thing’s undercarriage, and then released his hold on the thing’s face and grabbed the axe handle with both hands. The creature shrieked, a gust of hot, putrid breath blasting in Warsgra’s face. Its mandibles opened wide, ready to consume him, but Warsgra shoved with both feet and yanked back the axe at the same time. The blade finally tore loose, and the creature flew backward, leaving Warsgra free.

  He jumped to his feet as the creature landed on its back. Not wasting a single second, he brought the axe back down over his head and struck the thing in the underbelly for the second time, splitting it open. Black liquid ran from its body. The creature twitched a couple of times, and then fell still.

  Warsgra was breathing hard, but he didn’t have a moment to refocus. The second he’d dispatched one of the insects, it was replaced by another, and he twisted around, his axe taking off this one’s head. A third came up behind him, and as he twirled back around, swinging the axe, the creature curled in on itself, pulling its wings up over its body, creating a shell. Warsgra’s axe clanged off the hard exoskeleton, the vibrations making his hands tremble all the way up his arms.

  Above his head, Dela’s dragon swooped down, flames erupting from his mouth. The dragon was careful not to launch fire where the creatures met the army, but attacked the rear of the swarm instead. A few were unprotected and didn’t see the fire coming, and those ones didn’t duck into their wing armor. They erupted into a satisfying ball of flame, but those who had anticipated the dragon’s movements hid themselves in time, and were unharmed. He’d managed to harm some of them, though, and Warsgra watched as the huge beast, with Dela sitting astride its back, circled back around and swooped down low, fresh dragon fire erupting from its throat. The dragon wasn’t killing many with each rush of fire, but it was at least taking some down.

  A few of the things turned toward the dragon. They must have realized, in whatever strange network of nerve endings made up their brains, that the dragon was probably their biggest threat. All around, both humans and Norcs were in hand-to-hand battle with the swarm, but they could only take one at a time, and there were already numerous bodies of men lying on the ground, dead or injured.

  He watched in horror as the creatures shuffled their bodies around to follow the trajectory of the dragon. What did they have planned? Surely they couldn’t do anything to harm the dragon?

  But Warsgra didn’t have time to think about it any further. The creatures were still all around him, the battle raging on. He roared as he swung the axe around, slicing and chopping as more of the things fell on him. There seemed to be more of them, instead of fewer, even though he knew both he and the men around him were managing to at least kill a few

  The dragon swooped down once more, fresh fire crashing down over the swarm, melting the ice beneath them, heating the rock.

  But as the dragon got lower, a number of the insects spread their shell-like wings and launched themselves upward. They hit the dragon’s wing, clinging to the leathery folds like some kind of infestation. More insects joined them, pulling the dragon down on one side, the weight tilting the dragon’s body. Warsgra glimpsed Dela’s expression widening with fear, how she clung onto the dragon’s spines tighter, but they were trying to pull him down. The dragon’s screech echoed around the mountains, probably heard from a hundred miles away.

  Dela fell to one side, hanging off the dragon’s spine as he battled against the creatures, trying to shake them off, but at the same time also shaking off his rider.

  Then one of the things landed on top of Dela, and the weight was enough to loosen her grip for good.

  Chapter 9

  Orergon

  Orergon was battling the insects when Dela fell from the dragon’s back. His stomach lurched with horror as she dropped to the ground, her body covered in one of these insect creatures they were all fighting.

  He plunged his sword through the gut of the one creatures as it tried to tear his face off with its sharp front claws, and threw it out of the way. He needed to get to Dela. That was all that mattered. The fall in itself might have injured her, but now she didn’t have the dragon, she was also defenseless. The dragon was waging a battle of his own, tryin
g to shake off the numerous insects now clinging to one of his wings. The dragon swooped and twisted and dropped in the sky above them, trying to rid himself of the infestation.

  Between Orergon and Dela moved a carpet of the creatures, but he wouldn’t let them hold him back from her. He needed to reach her, and fast.

  Not thinking, he leaped up onto the shiny shelled back of one of the giant insects and jumped, staying on his feet, launching from one to another, only landing for a fraction of a second before he moved on.

  Where was she?

  There! He spotted her flame colored hair as she lay on her back on the ground, one of the things on top of her.

  The swarm clearly didn’t know how important she was to them, or they would have focused their attention on her rather than all the men and Norcs around them.

  He must have looked wild, his long black hair streaming back from his face as he charged forward, the shriek of a war cry bursting from his lips. He pumped his arms, his breath dragging back into his lungs as his yell ended, and he reached the creature, it’s long, terrifyingly sharp mandibles snapping at Dela’s throat as it had her pinned to the ground. There was nothing the dragon could do. The thing was too close to Dela, their bodies like one on the ground, and the dragon would only have burned Dela alive had he tried.

  He missed his spear, knowing he could have thrown it and hit the creature, but he didn’t have it. He needed to use something else instead. Orergon knew this was up to him.

  Blind fury clawed at his soul, and the prospect of a world without Dela roiled within him like a landslide surging down a hill after a heavy rain. But, instead of going down, his internal landslide headed upward, and Orergon allowed it to come. Welcomed it. And he opened his mouth let the darkness flood out of him.

  Just as it had happened in the castle, the darkness hit the creature’s mouth—or at least its horrific version of a mouth—and the thing inhaled.

  With a shriek, it fell back, away from Dela. Dela seized the moment and scrambled away, crawling backward on her hands and feet, her backside dragging in the dirt. She gasped, wide-eyed with terror.

  And, just like at the castle, the creature’s already black skin crusted over with a kind of black mold that crept across the whole of its body, and then it crumpled to the ground.

  Dela yelled out to him. “You killed it, Orergon! Kill the others!”

  He looked around. The creatures were everywhere. Humans and Norcs stood side by side, fighting against them. A lucky sword or well placed axe managed to severe a head or impale an unguarded belly, but the moment these things thought they were in danger, they covered themselves with their wing cases, and this made them almost undefeatable.

  Except, perhaps, with magic.

  Light or dark.

  He spun around, trying to spot Vehel among the hordes of fighting Norcs and humans. Where was he? White blond hair, pointed ears. There!

  “Vehel, use your magic!” he cried.

  Vehel turned at his name. “How?”

  “I don’t know!” His mind was a blur. “Think of something!”

  The wings that created the shell around them were the things that offered them protection. Without the shells, they were vulnerable. Or if the wings were open. And the wings were open when the things were flying. The idea of having the swarm lifting into the sky, if only for a short time, was horrifying, but it might be the only way. He glanced over to where the dragon was shaking off the last of the insects.

  “Fly!” he yelled over to Vehel. “We need to make them fly.”

  Their flight was short and uncoordinated, but it didn’t need to be for long.

  Vehel glanced over at the insect Orergon had killed and understanding crossed his face. “Got it.”

  Though it was dangerous for him to do so, Vehel closed his eyes, clearly needing to concentrate. Orergon worked his way toward the Elvish prince, protecting him with the sword he’d found on the ground beside a dead man, and once more missing his spear.

  A wind stirred up around them, a flicker of a breeze, at first, barely noticeable among the chaos. But then it increased, growing strong enough to threaten to lift them from their feet. Confusion spread through the people as they were forced to stop fighting and battle against the sudden wind instead. The humans, and in particular the Norcs, were heavier than the insect creatures that had been attacking them, and could keep their feet on the ground, but the creatures were lighter, and the wind blew them back.

  To keep their ground and fight back against the wind, most of the insects were forced to spread their wings, trying to battle forward.

  “Now!” Vehel yelled.

  Instead of being frightened of the darkness that resided within him, Orergon embraced it. Allowing the dark magic to surge up through him, he opened his mouth and exhaled. Just like the dragon with his fire, he swept a stream of the darkness across the hovering creatures, hitting them in what passed as their faces.

  The dragon had also noticed that the insects were vulnerable, and now he was rid of the ones clinging to his wing, he was able to dive back around and stream fire across more of the creatures. Their shrieks filled the air. Fire bombs fell out of the sky. The ones Orergon had hit with his dark magic turned to grey-scaled statues, falling still and dropping to the ground, one after the other.

  The humans and Norcs saw the situation was under control. They began to pick themselves up, some in shock and staring around, others too injured to pay attention to what was happening. They had numerous deaths among them, but the battle was over.

  The last of the creatures dropped to the ground, smoldering. The stink of burning—unlike anything Orergon had smelled before—filled the air, turning his stomach. It was like something inorganic burning or the stink that came from the fire mountain when they’d climbed it to Drusga, only worse.

  He looked to where Dela was picking herself off the ground. He ran over to her, throwing his arms around her, his face in her hair.

  “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Bruised from where I fell, but I’m okay. I guess I got lucky.”

  She looked across the mountainside at the carnage, and Orergon followed her gaze. Norcs were helping humans get back to their feet, and humans were doing the same for injured Norcs, two humans wedging their shoulders beneath the armpits of one Norc, both of them giving the Norc their support.

  “Thank you, Orergon,” she said with a tentative smile. “You saved us. You saved all of us.”

  Chapter 10

  Dela

  The aftermath of the battle was filled with a strange kind of hope.

  Though they had both the injured and dead within both races, Norc helped human, and human helped Norc.

  Dela’s heart twisted to see the Norc women and children running with grief-stricken cries to those who had fallen. She hated that lives had been lost. But the attack had forced the two races to work together, and she’d gotten a glimpse of how things might be when the time came to take on King Crowmere back in Anthoinia.

  She was also thankful none of her men had been hurt or killed.

  She got stuck into helping people, carrying hot water and medical supplies to those who had been injured. It would be dark soon, and fires were lit in preparation. At least those creatures hadn’t stormed the Southern Trough when it was dark. They’d never have seen them coming, and even if they had, it would have been far harder trying to fight them at night.

  It had been a long day, and Dela was exhausted. She wouldn’t rest until everyone else did, but she needed to go back to Warsgra’s hut to check on the dragon egg. She’d neglected it since coming to the Southern Trough, and she was feeling guilty.

  Warsgra was helping his people, so she didn’t tell him or any of the others where she was going. They all seemed to have their hands full.

  Alone, she slipped into the hut and crossed to where the egg was hidden in furs. Someone—most probably Warsgra—had sneaked back in and relit the fire while she w
as away, so the hut had remained toasty warm.

  The shape of the egg was beneath the furs, so she knew it was still there. Still, she found herself creeping over, as though afraid to wake a sleeping baby, and tweaking back one of the furs to get a better look.

  Movement came behind her and she jumped, spinning to face whoever it was.

  “Orergon!” The sight of him standing in the door made her exhale a sigh of relief. After everything they’d been through, her nerves were shot. “You made me jump.”

  “Sorry. I saw you come in, and I wanted to see how you were.”

  “I’m okay. How are you feeling after… what you did?”

  He shook his head and glanced away. “I’m not sure. I’m happy we destroyed those things, but this… thing inside me still frightens me.”

  Her heart went out to him, and she crossed the hut to place her fingers softly to his cheek. “You saved me, Orergon.”

  She leaned in to kiss him, but he jerked away.

  “No.” He moved his hand to cover his mouth. “I don’t trust myself. What if I hurt you?”

  “You would never hurt me. I trust you, even if you don’t trust yourself.”

  And she leaned in farther, finishing the distance remaining between them, and pressed her mouth to his. Using her tongue, she forced his lips open, sensing him resisting her. But she was determined to make him see he had no reason to be fearful.

  Dela pressed her body to his, feeling the long lean muscles of his torso bend against her. Her tongue found his, and though he might want to pull back, his desire for her was stronger than his fear. She needed to remind him that he was more than the darkness he’d brought back with him. Stronger. Vibrant. More powerful. She didn’t know if there was ever going to be anything they could do about the dark magic he contained inside him, but he needed to understand that it was under his control. That he was more powerful than it was.