Destroyed by Onyx (A Dance with Destiny Book 4)

by JK Ensley

  Of course you do. I am… Dragon.

  She giggled and jumped to the ground. “Well, wish me luck, Brother. I might as well get this over with.”

  Yes, Little Fire. It seems this is but the first stop of many. Alas, we are in no hurry. We yet have eons together. Go. Heal your heart, little Naga, and center your life. I will be here when you’re done.

  She kissed his nose and turned toward the castle.

  Umm… Naga?

  She looked back to her dear Dragon friend. “Yes, Brother?”

  Are you going like that?

  “Huh? Like what?”

  Nilakanta puffed out a hot breath. She felt the warmth tickle across her bare flesh. She looked down and back up quickly.

  “Oh my.” She giggled. “Perhaps I should put on some clothes first.” She tried to pull her torn dress closed. “And gratitude for mentioning it, Nilakanta.” She rolled her eyes. “Men… you are all the same.”

  What? So it’s my fault you’re a grown woman who cannot even tell your breasts are bare to the world?

  “N-no. That’s not what I meant. Ugh, I’m so ridiculous.”

  Yes, it seems you are, at that. He twitched his shoulder and her red box slid down his extended wing. Can I watch?

  She chuckled. “Are you saying I could possibly stop you?” She slipped the destroyed garment over her head. “I’m certain this pale body does nothing for you.” She tied her lovely red top in a knot just below her breasts. “Now, if I were a snow white she-Dragon, perhaps you would be enjoying this indecent little show.”

  She stepped into the flowing skirt and spun around, sending it fluttering all about her.

  Naga, one day I will tell you the truth about Dragons… and their desires.

  She held out her arms. “So, what do you think? Am I presentable?”

  Never have I seen you look more stunning. That dress is perfect. The color suits your name as well as your personality, Kagi Naga. You are a splendid vision from antiquity. A forgotten goddess from times past.

  “You are good for my ego, Brother.” She hugged his snout. “And… I will hold you to that promise.”

  Which one?

  “The one where you just vowed to divulge all the hidden secrets concerning Dragons… and their desires.” She said that last part really deep, trying to mimic him.

  He only laughed in her head as she bounded down the hill, heading for the castle gates.

  As she approached the back and made her way around the side of the battlements, a familiar voice drifted down to her from above.

  “Aye, Lass, you’re a vision of fire and ice, you are. How is it a wee moon flower comes gliding in from the hills… adorned with exquisite fiery red petals?”

  Jenevier looked up to see Gráda’s smiling face staring down at her.

  “Aye, Brother, come let your lass in. Don’t leave me on this side of the wall all by myself. Do you no longer count me as kin?”

  Gráda smirked. “Tell ya what. Let’s see if you can scale up this wall. If you make it to the top, I will give you your very own key to the gates.”

  “But I don’t wish to muss my pretty dress, Brother. It was a gift from my dearest friend in the world.”

  “I thought I was your dearest friend in the world.” He winked and chuckled.

  “Come on, Gráda,” she begged. “Give me another challenge, a different quest.”

  “Very well, Gealach. Let’s have a footrace, you and I.”

  “While you’re upon the wall?”

  “Aye, you want in, do you not?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well then, you’ll have to earn your way. Show your courage, Lass.”

  She smiled mischievously. “Since you are old, Brother, it doesn’t really seem fair. I don’t wish to shame you in front of your comrades. Let’s make it even, then. Well… I’m not booted. That’s one thing. Oh, and I can see at least three water trenches between here and the gate. Those obstacles should come close to making us even. What’d ya say? Shall we have a go of it, then?”

  Gráda laughed. “Old, am I? You just earned yourself a good tanning, Lass. I can hardly wait. Very well then, Gealach. Whoever makes it to the front gate, wins.”

  She heard his sword and shield hit the stones. The anticipation made her feel like she was ten years old again—butterflies gathering in the pit of her stomach, goose bumps tickling up her spine.

  “On your ready, Gealach,” he called down. “Say when.”

  Almost before his words had finished, she yelled, “When!”

  The dull thump of his boots atop the wall kept her ears company. She giggled wildly as she approached the first moat, screaming like a child as she leapt over it.

  The encouraging cheers raining down on her didn’t even register until she glanced up, trying to catch a glimpse of her opponent. Countless faces were peering over the stone walls. Jenevier looked back just in time to make her second jump. Her laughter only increased when her clumsy landing caused her arms to swing out, saving her speeding balance.

  She ran as fast as she could, making a mighty leap over the third muddy ravine, yelling out taunts to Gráda all the while. Gloved hands appeared from around the corner, snatching her out of the air before she could land. Together with her captor, they spun around and around, stopping only when his back slammed into the cold stone wall. Her hysterical giggles were cut off when firm lips closed over hers, snow white hair falling softly against her cheek.

  She heard the sound of grating metal mere seconds before her racing partner burst through the massive gate.

  “Ha! Old, am I?” Gráda laughed. “Aww, bloody hell, Finnean. Why are you always butting in at the worst times? We were in the middle of something important.”

  “She is mine,” he mumbled between kisses. Hugging her ever tighter, Finnean whispered, “You are mine as I am yours, always.”

  His next kiss carried even more fervent passion. Running had stolen her breath, and this warrior’s intense enthusiasm was nearly enough to make her swoon, keel over right there.

  “Unhand my daughter, you filthy rogue.”

  She pushed against her white warrior’s chest until he finally released her.

  Taking a deep breath, she yelled, “Father!”

  Jenevier ran to Brodder Scot, jumping into his arms as if she were a child.

  “Aye, Lass. I do love the sound of your voice. Those heavenly giggles pulled me from the council table. I knew I heard my wee lamb.” The giant of a man hugged her ferociously. “Tell me, sweet Gealach. Did you come to claim your rightful place by my side?” he said, lowering her back down.

  “For a time, Father.” She smiled up at him. “That is, unless you make my stay here so enchanting, I never wish to leave.”

  Someone took hold of her hand, tenderly kissing the back of it. She turned to find a bowing Brian before her, his lips still lingering upon her skin.

  He looked up. “I will do everything within my power to ensure your time here is as magical as you could possibly wish for, Milady.”

  Finnean casually took her hand from Brian and tucked it in the bend of his arm, leading her into the castle proper. “Gratitude, Brother,” he said. “But there will be no need for your valiant efforts. I can guarantee my wife will be so blissfully happy, leaving will be the last thing on her mind.”

  King Brodder called out over the excitedly chattering party, “Drostan, inform the cook. There will be a grand feast this evening. My only daughter, who was lost to me, has returned. Our overdue celebration will begin at dusk, lasting the allotted three days, as it is with all just and honorable royalty on such an occasion.”

  At the mention of his name, Jenevier turned to find the man who had once abducted her, glowering at them.

  “Lord Drostan,” she said as she approached him. “Humblest apologies for my prior behavior, Brother. I wasn’t quite myself back then. I beg your forgiveness for inconsiderate words and callous actions.” She bowed to him in her respectful Dragon manner. “Do you yet fe
el my breath alone nullifies your sworn vow?”

  Drostan snorted before he turned to go. “I know you’re not a demon,” he grumbled. “Not wholly.”

  Gráda wrapped a protective arm around her tiny shoulders. “What was all that about, little sister?”

  “Ahh, Gráda, I fear I shall never be free from dark past. I only pray no blood is spilled in my father’s house.” She smiled up at her old friend. “Come. Let’s talk of things once forgotten. I have much to tell you.”

  Finnean slid his hand into hers, lacing their fingers together. Gráda didn’t release her.

  “Try not to grope my daughter too much, gentlemen,” Brodder said. “She will soon tire of your constant smothering. And forget not. Her kick packs quite a punch. Doesn’t it, Luag?”

  Luag only grunted and held up a goblet toward them before turning back to his own conversations.

  “Listen to your good King, Brothers,” Jenevier said with a giggle. “Blessed freedom is the only lover I desire.”

  Gráda gave her shoulders a little squeeze. “Aye, Lass, have you told good Lord Finnean that?” He winked down at her.

  “I have ears, Brother,” Finnean muttered.

  “Come now. I don’t wish to waste a single moment with my lovely daughter,” Brodder said as he took Jenevier and Finnean’s clasped hands in his. “Are you ready, Lass?”

  She smiled lovingly at the giant man. “It’s why I’m here, Father.” She heard Finnean’s breath hitch. Why such shock? she wondered.

  “Very well then, Gealach.” The King took a deep breath. “Family is the most precious gift we could ever hope for, ever be blessed with. Love of family comes before love of self. Never forget that. Your own honor and glory are secondary things to love. Protect family over heart… and the heart will never need protecting. Always let your love be stronger than your hate. Your joy, greater than your anger. You must learn the wisdom of compromise for your own sanity’s sake. Remember. It is always better to bend than to break. Never become so rigid and hard that you cannot give. A true friendship is the solid foundation, the only foundation, for any precious and lasting relationship. Always strive to be a true friend. The one who is lucky enough to own your heart, the blessed one you chose to gift it… that person is deserving of your courtesy, worthy of your kindness. Hold to these words. Carve them upon your joyous hearts. Pass them on and remember them always.” He gave their clasped hands another little squeeze and then kissed her on the forehead. “A prouder father has never lived,” he whispered.

  She sniffed. “I love you.”

  “And I love you, most beautiful daughter.” Brodder wiped his eyes and stepped back.

  Finnean turned her to face him. “You are mine, as I am yours, always.”

  Jenevier smiled and a tiny laugh escaped her. “Always.” She nodded her affirmation to her dear friend.

  He gently pulled her against him, a single tear trickling down his handsome cheek. The look in his eyes went past happy, past elated. It was more akin to awe, with a healthy dose of unspoken desire. And that look alone sent her heart racing into her throat, caused her butterflies to go from swarming to warring. Finnean took her face in his hands, quickly inhaling her scent. She saw the fire rise up in his fierce blue eyes a heartbeat before his lids fluttered. Her breath hitched.

  Jenevier automatically closed her eyes when she felt the warmth of his tender kiss upon her lips. Yet this kiss was different from the others… this kiss carried great hope and love with it. When they parted, she was left with an all-encompassing feeling of being completely cherished, almost overwhelmingly so.

  Finnean chuckled softly as he rested their foreheads together. His radiant smile was the very kind of thing Wonderlands were made of. She gently stroked his soft cheek, marveled in his exquisitely rare beauty.

  “Always,” she whispered again.

  Loud cheers and raucous shouts caused her to jump. She had forgotten the rest of the world existed. Had she been capable, she would have blushed.

  “If you keep this up,” she whispered to the beautiful man still holding her face in his tender hands. “I might start to think you really like me.” She winked and couldn’t contain her broad smile.

  Finnean wrapped his arms around her waist, adoration and fire dancing equally within his ice blue eyes. “Mmm… I thought I just proved that to the whole kingdom.” He kissed her again.

  Brodder finally had to pull her out of the white warrior’s possessive embrace.

  “Come, Lass. Tell your old dad about all these fascinating blue gems upon your milky skin, and why the black in your hair now boasts the color of sapphires.”

  She squeezed his giant arm, her cheeks aching from the smile that Brodder’s love and the awesome joy she felt from these valiant people, had plainly painted there.

  Chapter 39

  Gealach

  (GAHL-luch)

  The large goblet echoed its emptiness when it landed on its side. Brodder absently righted the metal cup but kept his gaze fixed on his ethereal daughter’s imaginative reenactment of the slaughter she had committed upon the vile men in that old hunting lodge owned by King Merodach of Wrothdem.

  Jenevier had spent the last couple of hours parading up and down the length of the enormous table, answering questions and filling her Celtic brethren in on all the adventures she could recall of her life before Val Hal.

  She told them of her training, her Pyrolysis, and her execution. She told them about Vashti, her lethal wings, and her job as the Death Angel.

  Although she could remember most of her battles, they were more like recounting the actions of another. Her heart was no longer heavy with the guilt she carried whilst crowned with vibrant curls or tinkling ruby locks. The monochrome tresses now falling across her shoulders marked her a new creature, in more ways than one.

  She didn’t spend much time concerning her exile. But she included every moment she could remember whilst in hell.

  Brodder wiped his tears as she told of her capture by Shabriri, the eternal loss of her sapphire Angel, and the near fatal birthing of her beloved twins while captive in a foreign land.

  Jenevier closed her magnificently impossible tale with the revelation of her Dragon guardianship, the epic finale of the horrific universal apocalypse, and then the world-shattering loss of her noble Guardian husband, Varick.

  When she finally revealed the truth of how she had lost all her vibrant color, and how her recent death upon the moon and subsequent trip to the Nether had left her with even more sparkling blue scars, Finnean helped her down from her stage.

  “Come, my love,” he softly said. “Let us dance now and start making our own glorious memories, ones worthy enough to fill your brand new life.”

  She smiled happily as he spun her around in his arms. Today would be the day she would forever claim as first knowing true bliss. An immeasurable joy that belonged to only her, to the woman she now was—her first happy memory minus Naga or Jenevier. This marked the first day of jubilation for Gealach, the colorless Princess of Val Hal.

  The valiant people of this noble realm believed in eating too much meat, drinking too much whiskey, and greeting the dawn with way too many tunes yet to play. Her new kinsmen lived life as large as their shoulders were broad… and loved at least twice that much.

  She got to know Luag’s wife and Eògan’s intended. The giant boyish warrior blushed crimson when he introduced his Kenzie, the shy little brunette turning almost the same color as her betrothed.

  “Gealach,” Luag said as he cleared his throat. “This is my other half, my Allina.”

  The lovely young woman inclined her head toward Jenevier.

  “Your better half, I should say, Lord Luag.” She smiled as she returned the noble woman’s gesture. “I would have pegged her as your daughter. She is far too lovely for you, Brother. However did you manage to capture one so fair? And tell me true. How is it you go about with a near constant scowl, when a beauty such as this awaits you at home?” She gave the smiling
Allina a conspiratorial wink just before Finnean swept her back to the dance floor.

  The night wore on but the music never waned. Leaning wearily upon the King, Jenevier sighed.

  “Exhaustion claims me, Father. The morning sun has hung tiny weights on my drooping lids. Do you have a bed I could claim? Or shall we live like old times and slumber in each other’s comforting embrace?”

  The King laughed. “I will never forget those rare nights, wee Gealach. I love nothing more than holding you whilst you dream. Alas, I fear those times are now passed. Finnean will show you to your chambers. Rest well, dearest daughter, for tonight you shall dance with me first.” He winked at her and smiled.

  Finnean tried to guide her away, yet she wouldn’t move. Brodder saw the deep furrow between her brows and the obvious question dancing about in her snowflake eyes.

  “What troubles you, little Princess?”

  “Father, has the truth about my past removed me from your heart? Do you no longer count me as your rare moon goddess?”

  “Never, dear one. Such a thing is not possible. What in the world would cause you to think thusly? The revealed mystery of what you are and what you have lived through will always be most cherished within my broken heart. If it’s even possible, I love you more now because of your truths.”

  “So… you have taken a wife, then?” she said hesitantly. “Why did I not meet her?” Jenevier looked around for the noble woman.

  “Wha… A wife? No, no, no… Where’s this coming from, Gealach? Speak your mind, little one. Plain talk is a rare gem we share, Milady.” He smiled teasingly and squeezed her hand.

  “When I had no voice, you held me and sang to my shattered soul. You healed me with your gentle touch and your noble heart.” Her dark eyes filled with questioning tears. “I was stolen from your home and then left your world minus our farewells. Yet…” Her words choked off with mournful sobs. “…Yet, now you say I can no longer be with you as we once were. Why, Father? What have I done to dishonor our bond?”

  King Brodder lifted her up and pressed her against his crumbling heart. “My wee Gealach, nothing could be further from the truth.” He gently rubbed her back as he spoke. “Perhaps in time, your beloved will let you sleep in your father’s arms… on occasion.”