Rise of the Fae (Dragon's Gift

by Linsey Hall

  “And what about the queen?”

  “She’s up to something, definitely,” Claire said. “Just like your dream said. The Resistance has been keeping an eye on her, and they think she’s preparing something. She’s really ramped up her efforts in the last twelve hours. A lot more magic is coming from the castle.”

  “Of course she has.”

  “When can you get here?” Claire asked. “The sooner the better, I think. She’s growing more powerful with every hour that passes.”

  “Hopefully soon. We’ve found the Dragon Bloods and are going tomorrow at dawn.”

  “Good. We’re continuing to gather Resistance forces here. Now that you’re in the picture, the Unseelie here are more confident in their ability to take on the queen.”

  “Fates, I hope their faith is well placed.”

  “It is.” Claire smiled. “I’d bet my life on it.”

  “You are. Just by being there. And I appreciate it more than I can say.”

  “I like a good adventure. I like revolt even more.”

  That’s what this all was leading to—a legit revolution. “We’ll be there soon. Be safe.”

  Claire disappeared in the fire.

  I stood and opened the door. Tarron stood about five yards down the hall, and he turned to me. “Safe to come back?”

  “Come on.”

  I returned to the room, and he joined me, shutting the door behind me. He joined me in front of the fire, where I stood absorbing its warmth.

  “I’m really sorry about that,” I said.

  “It’s fine.”

  “I can tell from his voice that it isn’t.”

  “It’s the circumstance, not you.” His face soften briefly, right before his lips tightened and his brow furrowed. The energy in the air changed.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine.”

  But his voice was gruff. His eyes were pinched at the sides, but they were still green. “All right, if you’re sure.”

  “I—” He doubled over, gasping.

  I gripped his shoulders. “You’re unwell.”

  “Go.” Tarron gasped, his voice ragged. “Mari, get away.”

  Shit. This wasn’t sickness—it was the false queen. I backed away, but he was too fast.

  His eyes flashed a brilliant gold, shot through with black. The change came on impossibly fast.

  My heart spiked into my throat. “This isn’t you, Tarron.”

  “Of course it’s me,” he growled.

  I backed up toward the wall, my mind racing. The false queen’s influence was coursing through Tarron. His eyes gleamed gold and his face was set in harsh lines. Fists formed at his sides.

  “Stop it. You’re stronger than the curse.”

  “I am the curse.” He backed me up against the wall, looming over me.

  Oh, shit.

  7

  Tarron loomed over me, caging me in with his arms. His usual signature, the scent of an autumn day, had been replaced by the reek of brimstone.

  “It really isn’t you,” I whispered.

  “Of course it is,” he growled.

  A shiver of fear raced over me. It was like the man I loved had been replaced by a monster who wore his skin.

  He grasped my throat, cutting off my air. I gasped, but all I could do was choke. He tightened his fist.

  “Stop,” I tried to say, but the words were strangled.

  He just tightened his fist more.

  Shit.

  “You could have been on her side,” he hissed.

  My vision began to blacken, and terror spiked within me. He wasn’t going to stop.

  An animal instinct to fight back rose within me. I reached up and punched him in the face, giving it all of my Dragon Blood strength. His head snapped back, and he grunted.

  The fist around my throat loosened briefly, and I gasped in air.

  Tarron looked back at me, green flickering in his golden eyes.

  “Fight it,” I begged raggedly.

  He shook his head, his hand loosening at my throat.

  “Fight…it.”

  His eyes turned gold and his fist tightened.

  I struck him again, panic beating wildly behind my ribs. His head snapped back again, and when he looked at me, his eyes flickered green. His fist loosened.

  “Fight it,” I begged.

  He tore himself away from me, gasping and leaning over, his hands propped on his knees. “Get away from me.”

  I backed toward the far wall. “You’re stronger than her, Tarron.”

  He sucked in a harsh breath and stood. His eyes were green once more. “I won’t always be able to fight it.” His voice was so ragged that it broke my heart. Shadows danced in his eyes. “You can’t be near me.”

  “Yes, I can. Because I’m as strong as you. I can fight this when it happens.”

  “Can you kill me?” He stalked toward me, intensity in his voice. “Because that’s what you need to be willing to do.”

  Memories of us flashed in my mind—us, kneeling in the Seelie court, the knife in our hands.

  I hadn’t been able to kill him then. But if I had to… I straightened my shoulders. “Our kingdoms rely on me. Only I can defeat the false queen. So yes, I can do what is necessary.”

  “Kill me. That is what is necessary if I turn on you again.”

  My heart twisted. “Yes.”

  He nodded, his jaw set. His magic sparked briefly, and he conjured a pair of iron manacles that had a very short chain between two wrist loops. He snapped one onto his left wrist, then put his hands behind his back and snapped the other.

  I swallowed hard and nodded, hating the sight of him like this, but appreciating it. “Thank you.”

  He nodded. “Anything for you.”

  “Keep that in mind if this gets harder. Because I’m going to heal you, no matter what. I don’t care if the curse turns you fully to her side. I’m going to drag you along until I can fix you.”

  “Then we need to find this cure. Soon. Because I won’t make it much longer.”

  “We will. I swear it.”

  “You fight for what you want.”

  “I fight for what I love.” I approached him, my legs shaking from the adrenaline.

  He was back with me. His eyes were green once more, his expression familiar. I wasn’t going to lose this opportunity.

  I stopped in front of him, standing up on my toes to press a kiss to his mouth. He groaned and dipped his head low, capturing my lips with his own.

  My heart thundered as he kissed me. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my body full length against his.

  He shuddered. “I wish I could touch you.”

  “It’s all right. I can touch you.” I pushed him back against the bed and climbed on top of him.

  He growled and moved beneath me, strong and hard. I pressed myself against him, kissing my way down his neck. I began to pull at his shirt, but with his arms behind his back, it was impossible to get it off.

  “Cut it off,” he rasped. “I can conjure another.”

  I drew a dagger from the ether and did as he commanded, slicing the clothes away from his strong chest. Heat welled within me as the clothing fell away, revealing long expanses of smooth skin stretched taut over iron muscles.

  I pressed my lips to his chest, and he arched up toward me. I slowed down, determined to enjoy every second. After all, this might be our last night together. I was going to take advantage of it.

  The next morning, I woke alone. After an amazing night, Tarron had gone to the other room and barred the door. He’d never once taken off the manacles, which I appreciated as much as I hated.

  But damn if I wasn’t ready for this to be over.

  It didn’t take long for me to dress in my fight wear. Before he’d left last night, Tarron had conjured me some fresh socks and underwear, which was so thoughtfully domestic that it made tears prick my eyes.

  Dressed, I peeked out the curtains.

  Still
dark.

  Golden street lamps illuminated the courtyard outside, but the tables were empty in the early morning stillness. Perfect timing for us, since our goal was to arrive at the west coast of Scotland at first light and catch our ride to the Slate Isles.

  I went to Tarron’s room and knocked.

  “Come in.” His voice filtered through the wood.

  I used my key and unlocked the door. He was already awake, though he was still shirtless. As I walked in, he stood. He’d conjured a tight pair of boxer briefs, and damned if he didn’t look good.

  “How are you?” I asked, warmth suffusing me at the sight of him. He might be cursed to kill me, but when he was himself…

  It was all too easy to remember that I loved him.

  “Fine,” he said. “You?”

  “Good as can be expected. Can you conjure the key to those cuffs?”

  He frowned.

  “You have to,” I said. “We need your fighting arm. And we’re about to join Declan and Aeri. If you turn, we can take you.”

  His lips tightened, but he nodded. “All right.”

  Briefly, his magic flared, and a small silver key appeared on the little table by the bed. I picked it up and went around to stand behind him.

  The manacles on his wrists were stained red with blood, and the skin was raw and torn.

  I gasped. “What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  My lips pursed. “You turned in the night, didn’t you?”

  “I felt her influence, yes.”

  “But you fought it.”

  “Barely. Took everything I had.”

  I swallowed hard, my throat tight.

  I was going to kill that bitch.

  Quickly, I removed the manacles. He groaned as he moved his stiff arms toward the front.

  “Heal yourself,” I commanded.

  “The pain helps me keep my own mind.”

  I frowned, but bit back an argument and went to the door. I looked back briefly to see him conjuring clothing.

  “We’ll fix this, Mari,” he said.

  I nodded, praying he was right. “We’ll meet downstairs in ten minutes.”

  “See you then.”

  I went back to my room and fixed my makeup using a quick glamour. At the assigned time, I met Declan and Aeri in the breakfast room next to the lobby. It looked ancient, done up entirely in dark wood that was ornately carved.

  Aeri handed me a paper-wrapped sandwich. “Bacon. Not your favorite kind, but bacon all the same.”

  My stomach grumbled at the savory scent, and I unwrapped it and bit in. The flavor of English bacon and a soft warm bun exploded in my mouth. “This is amazing. Thank you so much.”

  Tarron arrived a moment later, and Aeri handed him a sandwich. The staff had kindly put together paper cups of coffee for us, and we set out into the dark morning. The streets were empty at this hour, the cobblestones glinting golden under the light of the street lamps.

  With all of the people tucked away in their beds, the whole town felt as ancient as it looked. Without people in modern clothing filling the streets, it was easy to think we’d stepped back in time.

  Silently, we walked down the street toward the enormous cathedral that sat on the other side of the square.

  York Minster was one of the most impressive religious structures that I’d ever seen, the front soaring hundreds of feet in the air. The white stone was carved with endless intricate decorations.

  We approached the huge wooden doors, and I pushed one open and entered the silence of the space. Though the doors were unlocked at all hours to allow admittance to anyone who wanted to pray, the pews were all empty. The echoing, empty silence made it clear there was no one inside.

  The space was huge, with an enormously high vaulted ceiling. At the other end, the altar stood lonely and quiet. Enormous flower arrangements scented the air, along with the wax of still-burning endless candles.

  “Where do you think the crypt is?” Aeri whispered. Her voice echoed in the silence.

  “Likely at the other end,” Declan said.

  We set off down the quiet aisle, our footsteps silent on the stone. Though there were portals located all over the world that went to Ellenabeich, this was the only one located in a church.

  It was the perfect location, however. Protected and hidden deep in the crypts, no one knew it was there except the Dragon Bloods.

  At the back right corner of the church, we found a tiny wooden door that was locked with a heavy iron padlock.

  “I’ve got this.” Aeri dug into the pocket of her white fight suit and dug out a tiny leather pouch. She pulled out a couple little pins, then knelt before it. Within seconds, she had it unlocked.

  Tarron grinned down at me. “Probably better than me melting it.”

  I nodded. “We’re in a church. Respect, and all that.”

  He nodded.

  Aeri stood and opened the door. Cool, dark air billowed out, and I leaned over to look down into the darkened stairwell. “Well, that’s appropriately creepy, huh?”

  “Definitely.” Aeri stepped in, hurrying down the dark stairs.

  I followed, with Tarron and Declan bringing up the rear. The steps led deep into the crypts, and by the time we reached the bottom, the temperature had dropped by a substantial degree. I shivered and rubbed my arms.

  Tarron joined us at the bottom. His magic flared briefly, and several balls of flame appeared in the air in front of us, floating calmly and revealing an enormous arched space filled with statues and crypts.

  “We need to go toward the back,” I said, repeating my father’s directions.

  Quickly, we hurried past the beautifully carved alcoves where York’s most powerful and wealthy were buried. This had to be the area that was most commonly visited. But we were headed to the quiet part.

  The farther we moved, the more unfinished the crypts appeared. Ornate stone support pillars were replaced by rougher ones. The burial alcoves became fewer and farther between, until finally, we reached the empty alcove that my father had described.

  “I think this is it,” Tarron said. “Looks just as unimpressive as he said.”

  I reached into my pocket and withdrew the small, shiny black dragon scale he’d given me. I set it on the ground in the middle of the space, then withdrew a dagger from the ether and spilled a drop of blood on it.

  Magic flared, and the air shimmered. A portal formed, sparkling gray.

  I stepped forward, but Tarron beat me to it, striding through first. Taking the risk.

  Quickly, I followed, stepping out into the biting cold air of Scotland at dawn. Pale gray light filled the morning sky as the sun peeked over the horizon to the east. Wind buffeted me from all directions, pricking my skin with a chill.

  We stood on a rocky shore with a steep mountain rising to my right. An iron gray sea lapped at the pebbles on the beach, and in the distance, a little ferry motored to a small black island in the distance.

  Tarron joined me. “That has to be the closest of the Slate Islands.”

  Aeri and Declan joined us.

  Aeri nodded to the little ferry. “So that’s really not our ride, huh?”

  “Nope. Not according to…Dad.” I looked at Aeri. “Do we call him Dad?”

  “No idea. We should ask him next time we see him.”

  “Yeah. Let’s find that stone dragon. Apparently, he’s our ride.”

  “I guess I’ve heard of crazier things.”

  We set off across the rocky beach, looking for a particularly large pile of slate. Loose rock shifted underfoot as we walked, and the mountain loomed overhead.

  Tarron stopped in front of a huge pile of black shards of rock. “This has to be it.”

  I tilted my head and stared, looking for the pattern in the pile of rock. Would it be a real dragon? Or was “stone dragon” a euphemism for a portal? My father hadn’t been clear.

  “It’s worth a try.”

  “Agreed.” Aeri was already dragging a blade f
rom the ether.

  I followed suit, calling upon a silver dagger.

  “On three?” she asked.

  I nodded, and she counted down.

  On one, I drew the dagger across my palm and watched the blood well. When enough of the black stuff had pooled in my palm, I turned my hand and let it drip onto the stones, along with Aeri’s white blood.

  Magic sparked immediately, fierce and violent. It crackled in the air like lightning, bringing with it the smell of ozone.

  Tarron’s strong arm grabbed me and yanked me back. I stumbled toward him, moving away from the piles of shifting rock.

  “Whoa,” Aeri breathed from beside me.

  Almost faster than I could process, the rock moved upward, forming a huge shape in front of us. Massive rock wings flared wide, and red eyes peered down at us. It towered fifty feet overhead.

  I snapped my jaw shut. “A dragon.”

  Tarron wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to his side. “The Dragon Bloods don’t do anything in half measures.”

  The rock dragon raised its head and blew a plume of fire toward the sky. I didn’t think it was quite alive—not in the flesh and blood sense. But it was definitely a dragon of some sort.

  “Hello.” I waved my arm in greeting, but the dragon didn’t indicate that it noticed.

  “I don’t think he’s actually alive,” Aeri said.

  I ran my gaze over the rocks that formed his body. They hadn’t transformed into another material—they’d just magically fitted themselves together to form the shape of a dragon.

  “Yeah, agreed.”

  The dragon lowered itself to its front feet and ducked low, stretching out a wing so we could climb aboard.

  Gingerly, I stepped onto the stone wing. It stayed sturdy and strong, not collapsing underfoot, so I began to climb up the slope toward the dragon’s back.

  My heart thundered in my chest, and I forced myself to take deep breaths. Tarron, Aeri, and Declan followed. I found a seat near the dragon’s head, straddling its wide back and finding a handhold on one of the rocky spikes.

  “Right behind you,” Tarron said.

  I turned around and spotted him straddling the dragon only a foot behind me. Aeri sat behind him, with Declan last. As soon as we were all seated, the dragon huffed out a blast of flame and launched itself into the air.