by Lola Gabriel
He had been unlucky in love his entire life, but that did not mean he had given up on being in a relationship, regardless if it was a short one or not. He had had several flings, one-night stands, and casual relationships, but they had all lacked depth and commitment, mostly from his side. It was not because he was scared of commitment, it was because he hadn’t felt any real passion with any of those women. There had always been something missing, and Pyre knew exactly what it was. As a dragon, he knew the tales of how each and every dragon had their own True Mate, specifically made for one another. They could be different species, or the same. Human or immortal. It didn’t matter, as long as the Bond was there.
His mother had told many tales of how it felt when a dragon met their True Mate for the first time, and Pyre often wondered what it would be like for him. As a Fire Dragon, who controlled all things fire, passion, and desire, there was one thing he couldn’t control, and that was love.
The infamous tale of how the four Dragon Princes had been cursed by a powerful witch before they hatched from their eggs had been told and retold for thousands and thousands of years. Some details had been lost in translation at times, but Pyre was one of the few who knew the truth.
Their palace had been in the midst of a war between the dragons and the witches, which had erupted in a massive fight for survival between the two species. The leader of the witches, Rhaena the Wicked, had set out to destroy the lineage of the Dragon King and Queen, as her coven had been drastically reduced in numbers by the callousness of the Dragon King, who had been a power-hungry being at the time. He had made many rash decisions. Of course, the Dragon King had absconded from doing any more harm to any other species, but the damage had been done.
Rhaena the Wicked had placed a curse upon the four Dragon Princes: they would have to spend five thousand years alone, without any sign of their True Mates in sight. Furthermore, after those long, lonely years were up, they were still not guaranteed to find their mates, and even if they managed to, it would be a long and dangerous road. The chances that the Dragon Princes would harm or potentially kill their True Mates were a definite possibility.
A shudder ran down Pyre’s back as he thought of losing his True Mate after all that time, and doing everything in his power to find her and keep her safe. It would definitely be the end of him. He glanced briefly at Lisa and Eric, who embraced one another, Eric whispering in Lisa’s ear, before noticing the doctor walked over to him.
“Pyrencko Veskovic. We meet again,” Dr. Wills said with a smile.
“Dr. Wills. Nice to see you again.” Pyre smiled back.
“I looked at your charts, and you’re in perfect health,” the doctor said. “There is no sign of smoke in your lungs, or anything, for that matter.”
“You seem confused about that.”
“I am,” the doctor replied. “Your partner suffered a bruised rib and smoke inhalation, and you don’t even have a single bruise or cut.”
“I guess it’s just dumb luck.” Pyre shrugged and stood from the bed. “Am I free to go?”
“If you feel any dizziness, any shortness of breath—”
“I will come in right away, I promise,” Pyre said and shook the doctor’s hand. The doctor nodded and quickly left.
“Looks like you’re free to go, buddy,” Eric said as Pyre approached his bed.
“You hang in there, Eric, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.”
Pyre smiled and nodded at Lisa. “Look after him.”
“I will,” Lisa replied.
Pyre made his way out of the room and down the hallway, and he heard Lisa call out his name behind him. He stopped and turned around.
“Hey. What’s wrong?” he asked.
Lisa unexpectedly put her arms around him and hugged him tight. “I’m really glad that you’re okay. And that you are always there for Eric when he needs you.”
Pyre felt a little awkward, but he knew that her intentions were in the right place, and she was genuinely grateful towards him for being at Eric’s side. Lisa loosened her grip. “He’s my best friend, and I will always have his back, Lisa.”
“Thank you,” she said gratefully. “How you don’t have a girl yet is beyond me.”
“I guess I am a little too wrapped up in keeping Eric safe,” he joked.
“Maybe I should fix you up with one of my friends, but who?” she mumbled and brought her hand up to her chin as if in thought.
Pyre shook his head and dug his hands into the front pockets of his pants. It hadn’t been the first time Lisa had tried to match him with one of her friends or colleagues, and needless to say, all her attempts had been unsuccessful.
When Pyre met a woman, he could instantly tell whether it was just a one-night stand or a casual fling. He had a knack for figuring people out right there on the spot, and he was never wrong. He could tell whether someone was trustworthy or not, and it was such a shock to know that most people he came into contact with weren’t good people. Pyre knew that he wasn’t a saint himself, and he had done many things in his life he regretted and wished he hadn’t done, but he had changed and tried every day to be the best he could be.
In fact, he did all he could to help make the world a better place. About 200 years prior, he created a secret task force with three other dragons, Kryo, Axl, and Zeke, who were also thousands of years old and from Romania. Together, the dragons observed the happenings on the streets of Miami.
Lisa’s voice brought him back to the present moment.
“Oh, come on, Pyre. You’re much too picky when it comes to women,” Lisa scoffed. “But then again, I can understand why. A good woman is hard to find, especially for someone like you. You need a special kind of woman to deal with all this broodiness.”
“Is it too much?” he asked, raising his brows expectantly.
“A little, but some women like that.”
Pyre shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, Lisa, but I’m going to have to pass. I am fine with the single life for the time being.”
“All right. I’ll back off. I can see those walls coming up real fast,” Lisa replied, holding her hands up in defeat. “Just remember—”
“Life’s no good if you live it alone. I got it,” Pyre told her, winking.
“Good night, Pyre.”
He nodded at her. He turned on his heel and left the emergency room.
The view from Pyre’s large mansion on Golden Beach brought him a lot of peace. The crash of the ocean waves and the beautiful sunrises he witnessed on quiet mornings made him feel at one with nature. Even when the hurricanes threated the safety of the humans, Pyre knew he was safe.
As a Gifted Immortal, nothing could kill him, except being decapitated. Silver bullets didn’t work on dragons, although they did hurt and leave a scar afterwards. Not even a vampire bite could kill a dragon, especially not if it was from noble birth. Basically, being a Dragon Prince meant that he could do whatever he wanted, and there was very little risk of getting killed.
Of his four brothers, Pyre was the most impulsive, and he did things on a whim without even thinking about it. This often got him into a whole lot of trouble, especially with other immortal species. He was a witty, quick-thinking shifter, and his spontaneous nature was what made him exciting to others. Especially to women.
His exterior was rough and rugged, and he did not shave that often, walking around with seemingly permanent stubble on his face. His eyebrows were often pushed together, his brown eyes looking intently at someone, somewhere, everywhere. He had a cocky smile and a dimple on his right cheek which made him seem even more coy than he already was. His dark brown hair was mostly tousled and disheveled, as a result of the helmet he wore.
“Some things never change, Pyre,” he remembered his mother had said to him before he had left for Miami. “Whatever needs to happen, will.”
He had never understood what exactly she was referring to with those words, and he had never really asked, either.
He had never been clos
e to his mother, as his other brothers had been, but he still loved her very much, in his own unaffectionate way. He had never told her that he loved her—in fact, he had never told anyone that. Although in his heart, of course he did, he did not do so out loud. Luckily, the Dragon Queen knew each of her sons like the palm of her hand, and she knew that Pyre wasn’t the affectionate type, or the kind who would make his feelings towards another person known.
Despite his very rough exterior, deep down inside, Pyre was simply a sweet and misunderstood dragon who sought affection, even though he would not admit it to anyone. The past ten years had been especially lonely for him, despite him being quite the loner. This was why he was so thankful for having Eric in his life. He had spent many evenings at his and Lisa’s home, where he joined them for dinner often. Lisa was a great cook.
Pyre had never hated the humans like some of his fellow dragons and his father once did. He had never had a problem with the humans at all. They treated him like one of their own, and that was good enough for him. Even Eric treated him the same, and he knew the truth about him. He would often joke about it, but nothing that would offend or upset him. Pyre was also well aware that not all humans would be so understanding and open-minded as Eric, which was why he had not told anyone else.
Really, the loner life suited him just fine. Until a few days ago, at least.
He thought about taking an Uber down to South Beach and checking out the new restaurant that had opened in the South of Fifth neighborhood, but then he decided against it. It was times like these that Pyre missed having his brothers around; they used to do almost everything together before they were separated. It had been nearly five hundred years since the entire family had been together, and it had started to affect Pyre in ways he’d never thought it would. Sure, he was close with his brothers, but he was a loner in his own right, enjoying the silence as the mayhem carried on in his mind. His head was a rambunctious place, filled with thoughts from thousands of years ago, memories which dragged themselves back into his subconscious without his consent.
As a fire dragon, he shoved his emotions away and built thick walls around them. If he pretended they didn’t exist, then they didn’t. Perhaps that had been his first mistake.
His thoughts brought him back to the attacks. There had been more than the normal amount of attacks in the city. The cause of these attacks? Vampires.
A scowl formed on his lips at the thought of those hideous things, preying on humans and turning them into creatures of the night. As if there weren’t enough pests in the city already.
He felt uneasy. Not even a phone call from his steadfast and understanding older brother, Oryn, could help, which meant that nothing would.
Oryn was the only person who could talk sense into Pyre, and the only person’s advice Pyre would follow. They weren’t sure why exactly that was, but probably because of the compatibility with regards to their elements. According to the old book which had been in their father’s possession since the beginning of time, siblings who were born under the elements of fire and earth were more likely to have a stronger bond than with any of their siblings born under the other two signs, water and air.
Somehow, that had always been the case, even from a young age. Of course when Oryn had been attacked and given a long scar on his face, Pyre had been the one who’d felt guilty, even if it hadn’t been his fault. That was what plagued Pyre the most—more than bottling up his feelings, and more than always wanting to be in control. The guilt, even if it wasn’t his in the first place.
Something stirred inside of Pyre and he decided he needed to leave the solitude of his house. He put on his shoes and just started walking. He walked in no direction in particular, allowing his subconscious, and his heart, to guide him, as it had done many times.
3
Finley had no idea how long she had been lying on the floor, in the middle of her cell, staring at the ceiling. It could have been an hour, it could have been a day, or even a week. Time eluded her as she listened to the sounds of the beating hearts of the humans on the surface.
Escaping seemed impossible. Would death be better? She wasn’t sure. She would just get herself in trouble and possibly killed in the process, which, at the time, did not seem like such a bad thing. She had become a monster and could not return to her old life—a life of science and biology, living organisms and heartbeats. She was dead now, in every sense of the word, and this was where she belonged. She just hoped she would never have to succumb to the whims of the vampire boss.
A strange feeling washed over her, causing her spine to tingle, and she sat upright. She turned to Kyra, whose eyes glowed ominously in the dark, and cast her own gaze to the ceiling. Particles of dust formed in the air, and the roof shuddered.
The ceiling burst open from all angles, and Finley scrambled to the corner of her cell. Large men wearing leather jackets and spiked boots entered the hallways, carrying cleavers the size of swords.
“Oh, shit…” Finley whispered and hid behind a large piece of concrete which had fallen from the ceiling into her cell. The metal bars separating her from Kyra were bent like a piece of paper, and there was no sign of Kyra. Finley was too afraid to call out her name, as she did not want to be seen.
She wondered if those men had come to rescue them, but when she peered over the edge of the concrete, she saw the other women vampires being plucked from their cells and instantly executed. Their heads were sliced off, and their bodies left on the ground. Why were they being executed?
Finley stayed hidden behind the concrete for a short while, making sure that no one saw her. She stayed concealed in the shadows until the men’s killing frenzy had ended, but much to her shock, she knew that they would find her somehow. Their voices were still close by, fading gradually, and as she listened to the silence drumming her ears, she suddenly smelled smoke. She peered over the edge, and her eyes widened when she saw the flames before her. The entire hallway and all the corpses were set alight. Smoke rapidly filled up the cells, and Finley covered her nose out of habit.
She rolled her eyes, silently scolding herself for being such an idiot, and tried to find her way out of her cell. The door was still intact, so she couldn’t get out that way. She looked to her left and noticed a space between the ceiling and Kyra’s cell. She climbed over the bent bars and jumped down into the neighboring cell. Checking down the hallway, she felt the heat of the flames coming closer and made her way down the hallway.
“Finley!”
The screech of her name made her blood freeze in her veins, and she spun around. Under the concrete border was the mangled yet somehow still alive Kyra. Her hand reached out to Finley, but Finley did not move.
“Finley, help me, please,” Kyra begged.
Finley hesitated, analyzing the situation. Even if she did manage to get the boulder off Kyra, her body would be too broken to ever be restored. Restored? Was that even the right word?
“Finley, I don’t want to die!” Kyra spat desperately.
Finley knew helping Kyra would put her own life in danger, but she couldn’t leave her only friend. She tried to push the boulder off her, and then there was a loud crack and something large fell from the ceiling. Finley just managed to jump out of the way before the beam crashed down onto Kyra. Her screams stopped. Kyra was dead.
Knowing that she couldn’t do anymore, Finley rushed out of the cell, leaving Kyra’s remains behind. She went down the hallway and heard screams from people being consumed by the fire.
Finley rushed up a flight of narrow stairs and came to a door, which was locked. She took a few moments to gather herself as the smoke followed her up the staircase and noticed her eyes flashing blue against the window to her right. She reached up, grabbed hold of the wooden beam on the ceiling, and kicked through the glass. She crouched down on the windowsill and looked down. With hesitating, she crawled through the window and jumped.
After landing, Finley stood upright and looked around her, trying to figure out which way
she wanted to go. She was starving and did not know how long she would be able to hold back her thirst for blood. She did not want to grab a random person off the street, either. She decided to quickly walk away from the building, which to her just looked like an ordinary house. She made it down the road when she heard people in the streets scream out and point at the house.
Finley did not bother turning around and tried to figure out her next move. She wasn’t sure how long she walked along the sidewalk when she smelled the exact thing she was craving so badly. Blood.
She surveyed the area around her and noticed a large white and red sign for a blood bank. Her jaw clenched in determination as she disappeared into the shadows of an alley between the blood bank and the store next to it. She spotted a window and climbed onto the windowsill. From there, she saw the refrigerator with a sign reading A positive and B positive. She wondered which would taste better, but then she realized she didn’t really care.
She managed to open the window and climb in without the alarm going off, and then rushed to the refrigerator. She yanked it open, grabbed a blood bag, and sunk her fangs into it. The sweet and delicious taste of blood filled her mouth, and even though it was cold, it still satiated her, so her cravings were no longer all-consuming.
Her knees buckled, and she slid down onto the floor, drunk from the blood she had guzzled so fast. The room whirled around her, and she closed her eyes, not wanting to move. She would most certainly remember this place when she was in need, but then again, she did not want to get caught. Would anybody suspect a vampire?
Finley still had a hard time believing that vampires existed, even though she was now one herself. Still, she didn’t want the whole of Miami to go on a witch—or rather, a vampire hunt. A psychopath stealing blood from blood banks seemed much more believable.
