For the Love of Her Dragon

by Julia Mills

  What an added bonus that Aidan had been present. It had been the first time since that fateful day at the cabin that he had laid eyes on his brother. It always amazed him that no matter what he did to his older brother, Aidan still tried to reason with him. Like as the older brother he had to try to save Andrew. He laughed out loud at the mere thought that he needed saving. Royce would be the first to fall he decided, if for no other reason than the fact that he had hurt Kyra. She held a special place in Andrew’s heart, no matter her loyalties. Only thirteen more days until the full moon and he would take the life of the oldest of the MacLendon Force. If others fell all the better, but it was Royce that had to fall first. Before it was all over they would all die, and Aidan would be left to watch the devastation of his kin, the most worthless race to ever take breath.

  The vibration of the cell phone in his pocket stirred him from his musings. The message read: Heading to airfield. Take off in ninety minutes. Everything was coming together nicely. He needed to touch base with John to make sure preparations were underway for what would be the beginning of the end of the dragons. Swiftly reaching the forest floor, he dialed his second. His partners believed John dead and that was just the way Andrew wanted it. He would use their resources and make them believe they all shared a common goal, but the truth was, there could only be one victor and he meant to be that man.

  John answered just as Andrew was about to hang up. “Yes, sir?”

  “Things are on schedule?” he asked as he made his way to the hidden motorcycle the others had left him.

  “Yes. I was able to locate another Earth witch. She is much younger and not near as powerful as the previous one, but she is competent and very easy to deceive. With our infusion of dark energy, the amulets will be just what you wanted.” John sounded as excited as Andrew had ever heard him, which increased his confidence that they would deal the first crushing blow to the Dragon Guard in his bid for revenge.

  “Perfect. I appreciate your efforts.”

  “Thank you, sir,” John replied, and Andrew smiled at his second’s readiness to please.

  “Have you located the other pieces of the Prophecy?”

  “No, sir, I have not, but I am very close to decoding the symbol you sent me from the witch’s book. At first I believed the four intertwined circles with the star at the center was simply the witches’ way of marking the spell with their elemental symbols, but under a magnifying glass, I have found that where each circle touches what originally appeared to be a solid line is actually script written in an ancient runic language. I have several scholars working on the translation that I believe will lead us to the other texts and the rest of the Prophecy.” John’s optimism was contagious. Andrew felt better about their plans just being around him. “Good work, John.”

  “Thank you, sir, but it was your studious observation that concluded that the text we have is incomplete.”

  Andrew smiled, letting John’s praise pass. There would be time for congratulations when he was the only dragon shifter left in existence. When his betrayers were exterminated and forgotten, then he would rejoice.

  “I’m heading to the plane. I will contact you when we have arrived back at the mansion.” He disconnected before John could respond. It was important that his second remember his place. A little praise was fine to keep the young wizard working towards Andrew’s goal, but there was no way he could let him get overconfident, especially when he had yet to decide if John was to live or die when his mission was complete. Actions were all that mattered to Andrew. As long as John did what he was told to the best of his abilities and continued to be useful, he would live…it was as simple as that.

  He uncovered the small motorcycle hidden under a pile of brush and headed down the dirt path he knew lead to the airfield, plans churning in his mind. It had been a productive trip to the old country. At least with his new plan he did not have to keep Royce contained and weakened for the remaining days until the full moon. No, the entire Force would think they had run him off. He laughed at their stupidity and reveled in the things to come. Vengeance was within his grasp.

  ~~~~~~~

  If she wasn’t convinced that she was destined to die alone with twenty cats, she damned sure knew it after Andrew’s declaration. That was what had been hiding in her memory. The name her mother had spoken that night all those years ago…Ilsa.

  What a picture! A witch with twenty cats, alone in the forest in a little cottage. All she needed was a broom and a pointy hat and she would personify every stereotype ever concerning witches in the history of the world.

  At the mention of the long forgotten witch and her connection with what she had been told, it had felt as if all the blood drained from her body. It was not the rush she had imagined, but more like a smooth flow towards the forest floor. It seemed like it took a long time when in actuality, it was almost instantaneous and she had seen spots before her eyes. The action happening all around her had seemed really far away, like she was at the end of a very long hallway watching a movie on a small screen TV.

  When Rory had thrown her over his shoulder and ran, reality had come rushing at her like the waves during a storm. Her heart raced, cold sweat covered her body, and there was simply not enough air to keep her lungs inflated. A branch had smacked her ass as they flew away from the chaos, snapping her back to reality. It was then that she realized she needed to be following Andrew instead of running away. She should have been embarrassed at the things she had called Rory for manhandling her, but in reality, she didn’t give a shit. He really was the ‘bastard son of a one-eyed troll-faced griffin’ and she stood by her opinion. It had been even worse that he had laughed at her as she spewed insults meant to piss him off. Who in all the Heavens did he think he was to mock her. They all constantly teased her about turning them into toads, and she was about two seconds from making their taunts come true.

  But none of that really mattered. She was just using it to keep from thinking about what had really happened. Royce had heard everything Andrew had said. Things that she had forgotten but was sure he would think she was keeping from him. Not that he had ever taken the time to talk to her or given her a chance to say anything. He had condemned her from the beginning just because of her heritage. He had his reasons and the Goddess knew they were justified, but wasn’t a person supposed to be innocent until proven guilty? Wasn’t that what the humans believed, and wasn’t she half-human? She had spent the last twenty-five years waiting for the day she would meet her mate, building it up in her mind to be something grandiose, like a fairy tale. Well, one thing was for sure, the book was better than the movie and worlds better than reality.

  She listened to the men packing up and figured she should be doing the same, but her pity party was still in full swing and who was she to cut it short. It was her party and she would cry if she wanted to. It was the first ever true ‘girlie-moment’ she had allowed herself and she was going to soak it all up.

  Devon had tried to talk to her, but she’d kept her back to him and the sleeping bag pulled over her head until he had given up. When she was ready to talk, which should be in about thirty years or so, then she would seek him out. Until then, Kyra wanted to be left alone. As soon as they got home, she was going to move away from the Dragon Guard’s lair. She would still help them, but there was no way she could be around them day in and day out knowing there was no future for her there. She had made amazing friends and prayed that they could stay close. It was the first time she’d had real friends that weren’t witches and she really liked them, dammit. Maybe if she left, Royce would return. He was an integral part of their Force and had been missed. With her gone, there would be nothing to keep him away.

  The tears she had held back when around the others dampened her tiny travel pillow. She could count on one hand the number of times she had allowed herself to cry in all her years. Kyra had been taught to be strong, to resist anything that could be seen as weakness, and if by chance she was ever hurt, she was taught to suc
k it up and hold her head high. Yeah, well, that was not happening this time. She was wounded and there was nothing but a good old fashioned cry that would make it any better. Deep in her heart she knew she had fallen a little in love the first moment she had laid eyes on Royce and that it had grown over time. It was silly, really, but something she had no control over. The Universe, the Goddess, and Fate had all conspired and she had been all too happy to oblige.

  There had been a split second of blessed recognition and the fire of need that can only occur when encountering one’s mate for the first time when she met Royce, but it was quickly followed by suspicion and regret; two things she saw every time she looked at him. Kyra would have given anything, even her magic, to see love reflected in his deep brown eyes, but that was not to be. She was a witch, and like her ancestors, she had been condemned without a trial. At least there was no fiery stake or noose hanging on a tree.

  What would her mother, the great Calysta St. Croix, think of her now? Would she condemn Kyra a failure? Brand her unworthy and think of her as the daughter that was to mate a dragon shifter and bring honor to her coven but instead could not convince her intended that she worthy of a conversation, let alone someone to conceive heirs? Had her mother known that the people slaughtered by Ilsa were members of her would-be mate’s family? Probably, knowing dear old mom, she thought. If so, why had she not prepared Kyra for what was to come? So what if they hadn’t spoken in years? Calysta knew how to contact her if she had really wanted to. Kyra carried on like she was hidden from her mother, but she knew deep down inside that if the Grand Priestess wanted to find her, she would.

  Deciding pity parties were not all they were cracked up to be and that crying only gave her a headache and made her nose run, she threw back the covers. When she looked in the tiny mirror she kept in her pack she added a few more reasons for not crying to her list…red, puffy eyes and blotchy skin. She really was not cut out for any of this prissy shit. Damn Royce! Damn him to hell for making her act like a girl.

  She packed up her belongings while making a mental list of all she needed to accomplish both personally and to help fight Andrew. It was then that she had remembered while the stupid putz, Andrew, had been ranting she had worked a Spell of Recognition, essentially trapping a piece of his aura in the Goldstone pendant she wore around her neck. The Goldstone contained copper to bind the malevolent parts of the traitor’s aura and allow Kyra to use what was left to locate and track him. All she had to do was activate it.

  Lighting the candles she had yet to pack and sitting cross-legged in the middle of her tent, she pictured Andrew as she had first seen him, a man in need of her help, and then as she had come to know him, a traitor and poster boy of all that was wrong in the world. Methodically, a picture began to form in her mind. Having never worked this spell other than when she originally learned it years ago, she was amazed at the clarity of the image and the accompanying thoughts.

  Of course Andrew was scheming, but he was also relaxing, enjoying his flight. He was headed back to whatever hole in the ground he was calling home. She couldn’t get a location or picture of the house because he was not thinking of the actual structure, only what had to be done when he returned. His thoughts were jumbled, but he kept returning to that damn Prophecy. If she ever ran into the dumbass that had found it absolutely necessary to write that crap out, she promised herself she would kick his ass. Had to be a man, a woman would NOT be that stupid, she thought as she continued to sift through what she could of Andrew’s thoughts. Now that she had made initial contact, doing it again would be simple. She had a leg up on the jerk, at least something positive had come out of their little meeting in the woods.

  Not wanting to face the Dragon Guard any more than was absolutely necessary, she fiddled around in her tent listening to what was going on outside. Rayne was obviously pissed. More than once he had roared, actually roared, that he would see Andrew skinned alive for all he had done. It had been a huge weight off her shoulders when the Commander had ordered Devon, Lance, and Aidan, along with several of Rian’s clan, to return home. He was sure whatever evil Andrew was concocting would take place on their home turf, and he wanted his mate and child along with all the other innocents protected.

  The men had raced off to catch a plane bound for the west. At first she thought it was funny that they weren’t transforming and flying themselves and then realized it was daylight. The expenditure of magic to conceal their beasts in the light of day would have been too much, at least that was what she guessed. She was at the flap of her tent about to offer her help when she heard Devon ask Rory to watch after her and make sure she got back safely. Tears threatened to fall again, the big old softy was a true friend, one she was sure would be with her throughout her lifetime.

  Time seemed to fly and before she knew it, the sun had set. Rory appeared at the flap of her tent, “Hey, Kyra, okay if I come in?”

  “Yeah, come in,” she answered, ready to get the hell out of there. Hiding was not something she was good at or enjoyed.

  “We’re gonna be heading out in a few minutes. As your appointed bodyguard, I wanted to make sure you were ready.” He grinned and she wondered how old he was. It had to be older than her but he acted like a frat guy looking for a party most of time.

  “I’ve been ready for a while, but I really need to talk to Rayne before we leave. I was just trying to stay out of the way while you guys were getting ready to head out.”

  “Sure you were,” he said with more than a little suspicion in his voice. “I’m sure spending all day in a dark, dank tent is exactly what an Earth witch enjoys above all else. Just as I am sure your self-imposed exile had nothing to do with my pigheaded loser of a brother.”

  Busted! she thought, but was unwilling to let Rory know he had hit the nail on the head. “No, I took a nap after being carried like a sack of rotten potatoes through the woods and basically dismissed like an errant child. Then I worked a spell or two to make sure that schmuck was not anywhere near Kyndel, Sam, or the others we left at home, and finally, I packed up so I was ready to go when it was time to leave.”

  He smiled a knowing smile and she imagined smacking it off his face, but before she could act upon her thoughts, he shrugged, “Have it your way, but I do want you to understand something.” It was as if a switch had been flipped. Gone was the playful youngest brother that everyone thought was clueless, only to be replaced by an intense, bold Guardsman. Even his voice sounded different; deeper and more commanding, “It does not matter to Rian or I where you came from or what you are or even that Ilsa was of your coven. As far as we are concerned you are to be our sister, and it will happen sooner rather than later.

  “For as long as I can remember I always knew Royce would be the first of us to find his mate. Hell, Rian and I’ve had a bet going for over fifty years about when it would happen. I’m happy to say that I won.” A small twinkle in his eye told her the clown was still in there, but it didn’t stop him from resuming with a stern tone, “Royce is and always will be the heart of our family. Many over the years have mistaken that as weakness. Of course, my big brother has corrected their misguided assumptions with extreme prejudice, but that does not negate the truth of it.

  “When we were young, before Ilsa lost her mind, she explained the importance of our trio to us and made us promise to always be there for one another. It has not been easy, most of all for Roy, but we have done our best. As I am sure you can imagine, Rian is the head, not only figuratively, but also in reality. A strong leader, willing to make the hard decisions, highly respected not only by our clan, but all of dragon kin, and also a gifted strategist.

  “As I said, Royce is the heart. His compassion allows him to see the whole picture and keep balance in the fight we face against those that would destroy all we hold dear. He has a depth that keeps us all from indiscriminately killing those who oppose us. He is the life force that pumps through both clans.” He stopped and she once again saw the levity in his gaze and a slight
grin on his face.

  Several minutes passed as he looked everywhere but at her, and it was then that she realized for all of his bravado, Rory was embarrassed to say what part he played in their family dynamics. Never one to hold back (Well, until recently anyway) Kyra asked, “And you, what part are you?”

  Rory laughed, “You truly are a bold little witch. You’re going to need that fearless abandon to deal with my brother on a daily basis for all of eternity.”

  She felt her smile fall and a sadness she had forgotten, at least for a few minutes, descend back upon her. Trying to turn away, she found Rory standing in her way, “I know it’s hard right now, but I promise the big dumbass will come around. You two are destined to be together. Haven’t you heard…the Universe knows what She’s doing?”

  Thankfully, he was so tall and she was so short and they were so close together, that when she looked straight ahead she only had to stare at the logo on his t-shirt. Rory continued, “To answer your question, I am the hands. I make things happen. Now, do not misunderstand; we are all men of action, but I am more willing to leap without looking than my brothers. I take the risks they have to think about. The older I get, the more I realize how true the old witch’s descriptions were.”

  He walked away and looked out the open flap of her tent. Kyra was immediately aware of the fact that he was mind speaking with someone and wondered who, but was unwilling to interrupt or ask. She began gathering up her bags just as Rory turned around and smiled. “I know you can tell when we’re talking to one another in the way of our kin and I have nothing to hide. It was Devon, checking on you. He takes his role of protector very seriously.”