Dracones Boxset Books 1-5

by Sheri-Lynn Marean

  Zales stayed silent.

  With a sigh, Raven turned her back on him to stare into the fire. A moment later she heard the door close as he left her alone. She swallowed as memories of the senseless slaughter from that afternoon danced on the flames.

  Reaching behind her, she grabbed her bedroll and pulled it over her, then, curling up by the fire, she lay down and stared into the flames. As they danced and the fire crackled, she thought of all the years she’d been alive. All she’d done. All she’d lost. Finally, weary beyond belief, she fell into a disturbed sleep.

  ***

  She wasn’t sure if she were dreaming or having a rare vision, but in her mind, her brother—a brother she hadn’t seen in fourteen years––cried out to their father above. Flames swirled all around him, while his body and mind spun in a vicious vortex of pain that would let up only briefly before starting again.

  Raven jerked awake to see the fire flickering and wondered if the call had been real or imagined. She suspected all but the flames were real. Especially with how her own body ached in an echo of the pain he was experiencing.

  For hours, she lay awake, thinking about what it meant, wondering what was happening. She tried to communicate telepathically with her brother to no avail. Not sure if it was because he was so far away, or because it had been so many years since she used that particular skill. Or, it could be something else.

  When she finally rose at the crack of dawn to faint streaks of light across the sky, the feeling of dread wouldn’t leave her.

  “Zander, what is happening?” she tried again, worry beginning to niggle at her. She knew Zander was powerful and should be able to take care of whatever was happening, but …

  She stood in the doorway and looked outside at the weak, pathetic sun and contemplated going to her brother. Doesn’t matter what Zales says. You can’t go. You have too much to do here, the little voice in her mind reminded her.

  Then, a pair of riveting turquoise eyes flashed through her mind, and with a shiver, Raven suddenly knew that if she went, all her plans would forever be altered. How, she had no idea. Yet she’d worked too long and hard to take down the Ilyium and she wasn’t about to stop.

  He’s immortal, he’ll be okay. Then she pushed all thoughts of her brother, along with the strange, haunting eyes from her mind. Raven closed the door and got ready to face the day as an assassin-turned-spy once again.

  Chapter Four

  Interrogation

  After days of searching for Toren, sometimes with help and sometimes alone, Soroyan took a break to regenerate. He was once again wandering aimlessly in his wolf form around the mountain, trying to gather his thoughts. He needed a plan to find his nephew, since they’d run out of leads.

  “Brother,” Kyrian called, startling him out of his musings.

  “I’m here,” he said, picking up on the sense of urgency in Kyrian’s voice.

  “There are enemies here. Daywalkers, along with a Fallen, Sami’s father,” he said.

  Soroyan didn’t answer.

  “They’re trying to recapture the female: Goldy,” Kyrian added, and Soroyan snarled. His brother’s concern for their new allies was grating on his nerves. Though they were growing on him, he still hated being dragged into their fight, especially when he had something else on his mind.

  “This is the bastard who hurt that young teenaged girl Jax and Sami carried home last night. The man’s own child, I’ve been told,” Kyrian said, sensing Soroyan’s attitude.

  Soroyan had been out roaming when the two large dragons landed in the little clearing not far from Tierney’s home. Then, as they shifted into the forms of Jax and Sami, suddenly things made a lot more sense. He’d known they were immortal, though not that they were dragons. The shock of seeing beings he’d never crossed paths with was swept away at the sight of the broken young woman cradled in Jax’s talons. Sudden rage rocked him. It reminded him of what he’d lost so very long ago.

  Kyrian knew how to push his buttons. Still …

  “He works for Val Jean,” Kyrian added.

  “Fine.” Soroyan snarled. Suddenly no longer willing to stay out of it, he hurtled down the mountain to the dirt road where Sami assumed Marcius would have hidden his car. Even if the male couldn’t help him, this could prove a much-needed distraction. That is, if Sami is right about where his father was headed.

  He was correct in his assumption.

  As Soroyan neared his destination, the scent of greed—evil––reached him. Soroyan spotted the male just as he darted out of the trees. Without stopping, Soroyan crossed the dirt road. Then, with a mighty surge, he leaped to the top of Marcius’s shiny black sedan.

  Soroyan didn’t really care for cars, though from the look and scent, he could tell this one was new and expensive. He let his claws dig deep groves into the roof, wanting to smile in satisfaction at the screech of metal. Sami’s father skidded to a halt not ten feet away. Then Marcius slowly raised his hands and began to back away. “This has nothing to do with you, just let me go.”

  With a deep rumble in his chest, Soroyan let his power lose and stealthily padded down the windshield. Muddy tracks on the glass and hood followed in his wake. Then he bared his extra-long canines, saliva dripping. He knew from past experience the sight of him scared the crap out of everyone.

  “Stop moving!” he commanded, and jumped easily to the ground. He continued his advance on the male, who’d gone pale at his command, until he was within mere feet of the Fallen.

  “I can feel the evil in you,” Soroyan said, and snapped his teeth, thrilled when Marcius shuddered.

  Over the last week, as he learned more about their allies, Kyrian had informed Soroyan of some of the horrible things this male had done to his children and others. Unfortunately, as much as Soroyan tried not to care about any of their new allies, he found he did care. A lot. Maybe too much. It didn’t matter at the moment. The only thing that mattered was making this pathetic creature pay for his sins.

  “Start walking!” Soroyan snapped.

  When Marcius didn’t move, he charged up and swiped a sharply clawed paw across the Fallen’s face. With a yelp, Marcius stumbled back and raised his hand to his cheek.

  Soroyan followed close as Marcius reached up to the wound and then pulling his hand away, shocked at the blood.

  “Waiting for more?” Soroyan asked threateningly.

  Suddenly pale, Marcius turned and began walking. Soroyan stayed close on his heels, giving a growl every so often. Hot wolf breath on Marcius’s neck was also incentive for the creep to keep moving.

  “Kyrian, I’m taking this despicable creature up to the smaller cave at the top of the mountain. Have the restraints and my kit brought up,” Soroyan told his brother.

  “Yes, I will have it sent up immediately. What do you plan to do with him?” Kyrian asked.

  Soroyan paused, horrified at the question. “Why would you ask me that? You know what I will be doing to him.”

  “Sorry, forgive me, brother. I trust your judgement.”

  “Kyrian, I promised to find Toren. I will find out everything this bastard knows about your son’s whereabouts before I send him to hell,” Soroyan told his brother.

  “Very well,” Kyrian said.

  ***

  “Anything new?” Kyrian asked days later.

  “No,” Soroyan said, feeling even more on edge at his brother’s silence. Kyrian did his best to hide his despair, yet Soroyan could tell how upset he was and he refused to let his brother feel the pain of losing his young; a pain he himself had lived with for so long. Though in order for that to happen, he needed to find his nephew and intended to do everything in his power to do so.

  Soroyan knew that some in the pack still claimed he was the rightful heir to the Okami throne. He didn’t believe it and even if he had, he never once regretted giving up said rightful place. Yes, he was the most dominant wolf in the pack and refused to bow before any others. Well, accept his younger brother. Although he was well aware th
at guilt, at forcing the kingship on Kyrian, played a huge part in that. Still, though he followed Kyrian’s lead all these years, they both knew he would never really submit. Kyrian didn’t ask him to and didn’t seem to care.

  Just months after he rejoined the pack all those years ago, Soroyan had become the enforcer, charged with upholding Pack and Oberon’s law. The law of all shifters, born or bitten. He was always ready to strike the enemy down, dealing justice swiftly and surely, since to be indecisive most often led to death. Being the enforcer was all he knew. All he had wanted these last four-hundred years, but now he was just plain tired of his bare, lonely existence.

  He exited the cave and drew in a deep, crisp breath of chilly mountain air. Being winter, everything was dry. Sensing that he was alone, he summoned the power within him and shifted into a very large midnight-black wolf with streaks of blood red in his pelt. A souvenir from his rampaging days.

  Whatever. He was a wolf that intimidated most who laid eyes upon him. The need to be one with the land overwhelming, he took off, setting a swift pace as he flew past trees, brush, over logs, and away. He just needed to put distance between him and the evil in that cave. An evil that threatened his tenuous control of the deep, pulsing anger that never let him be free.

  He had never told anyone how the last hundred years he’d begun to detest the gift he had for making others spill all their dirty secrets. But this male … How had Sami and Jax survived such a depraved, sadistic fucker?

  With the dry earth under his paws and the crisp air flowing through his midnight coat, he ran far and fast, snorting when he sent a rabbit scuttling for cover. Normally he’d give chase. Today he wasn’t in the mood.

  Chapter Five

  Spoiled Rotten

  Serena laid her fork on her gold-rimmed plate and carefully dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin. She scowled at the red smear. Setting the napkin on the table, she pulled her purse over and fished out her lipstick. Orgasmic Cherry. She was impatient at having to wait to speak to her father, but Val Jean, king of the Daywalkers and Nightwalkers here on Earth, had forbidden any talk while they ate tonight, and now her mother had been summoned. With a perfection born of practice, Serena covered her lips in another coat, smacked her lips together, and closed the tube. She’d have to buy more soon; she was running low.

  As the pathetic, red-haired woman who had borne her entered the room, Serena grew even more annoyed. She hated the Ilyium blood that ran through her and wished she were all Daywalker. She also hated how young her own mother looked, as if she could be Serena’s sister. Thankfully they looked nothing alike, she thought, not admitting how jealous she was.

  “Dad-dee,” Serena whined, trying to get her father’s attention, but he ignored her, his narrow-eyed gaze never leaving Amelis. Furious, Serena tapped her foot, encased in four-inch heels, on the floor under the table while Val Jean spoke with her mother.

  Finally, she’d had enough. “Daddy!” Serena shouted this time, interrupting them. She tossed her tube of lipstick into her purse and shoved her plate away. Her dark eyes flashed in irritation, matching Val Jean’s as he turned to her at last.

  Finally! Serena shot her mother a gloating look, ran one manicured hand over her perfect, long, dark locks and smiled at her father since she finally had his attention.

  “What is it, my dear?” Val asked, and Serena saw her mother roll her eyes. She ignored Amelis as she looked at her father.

  “Please, Daddy, I need to find Marcius.”

  “What do you see in that sniveling idiot?” Val asked her, raising his goblet and taking a sip of blood.

  “Daddy!” Serena glared at him with a huff.

  Val grimaced. “Well, really, he’s been nothing but trouble. I saved his life, and yet he can’t even follow simple orders, and he’s responsible for the death of too many of my men.”

  “I know, but I want him. Please? I just need to borrow Taraven for a little bit in order to find him,” Serena whined, pouting her cherry lips at her father.

  Val Jean’s knowing eyes studied her intently. Finally, he gave a loud sigh and turned to one of his servants. “Clean this up,” he waved haughtily at the dishes on the table, “and send someone to fetch the boy.”

  “Oh, thank you, Daddy,” Serena said, jumping up from where she sat. She wrapped her arms around her father and gave him a kiss on the lips, loving the smear of lipstick that she left behind. “I love you so much,” she said, dark eyes gleaming with happiness, now that she had what she wanted.

  Chapter Six

  Norvafellan

  Raven didn’t have any issues seeing in the dark. As the last opponent came at her, she grinned and whirled out of the way with super speed. Then she sucked in a breath as sopping, cold strands of hair whipped her face, stinging her. Why does it always have to rain in these forsaken realms? she thought testily, glad the ice that had been pelting her ceased. Not even the sun wants to be a part of this place anymore!

  As the last of the storm clouds dissipated, she realized how quickly the time had passed. The four smaller moons of Norvafellan, a sister planet to Sorvafellan, illuminated the sodden ground behind the decrepit plant. A plant the Ilyium were using for some nefarious purpose which she planned to learn.

  Hell, I didn’t think this place would have this kind of security, she thought not expecting to have to fend off three armed guards. She’d even given them the option to run. But no, that would have been too easy and nothing was ever easy. Even though the last guy was semi-competent, she needed to hurry. She’d thought there would be more time to snoop around before the last weak rays of the dying sun finally set. Apparently she was wrong. The fifth and last moon—the largest moon––was quickly rising. Soon it would become deadly cold.

  She swung her sword, the sound of her enemy’s yelp as it bit deep was music to her ears.

  “Raven, hurry up already!” Win, the impatient teenaged tunnel rat who stood pressed up against the wall of the building, reprimanded, killing her joy.

  Her opponent used the distraction against her. Fuck! She swore when his sword bit into her upper arm, drawing blood and ruining yet another of the few shirts she had left. Double Fuck!

  Raven growled, hating anyone telling her what to do, but then she realized Win was only worried about the time.

  They both had less than forty minutes before he needed to be safe in the tunnels where he lived, and she needed to get back through the portal.

  After that, it would be another day before she could begin the journey to her brother. Cursing at not having gone to him sooner, she deflected her opponent’s clumsy thrusts, getting tired of the fight.

  Last night she’d heard her brother’s cry again and finally no longer able to ignore it, she knew she had no choice but to go.

  Aware her eyes had begun to glow a deep violet, she moved in to finish her enemy. For some reason, it felt like she’d been fighting her whole existence. Oh wait, she had. She’d been fierce in carrying out her duties on the ground, wanting to prove to her father and feathered brethren that she was every bit as good as they at her duties.

  All that had changed the day she met her mate. Lukkah Rayventhorn had stolen her heart.

  Stop! Don’t go there. It was too late. The barely contained rage that lived just below the surface rose. Spinning around, she sliced her opponent’s throat open. His eyes showed surprise. Raven ducked as his sword went flying over her head and landed in the overgrown weeds. Raven kept moving, darting away from the blood spatter in the nick of time. She wasn’t in the mood to be soaked by the vile beings who called themselves human.

  Demon Spawn! She hated working with the enemy and not killing them on sight. It chafed her having to answer to someone else, especially the Ilyium prick she pretended to work for. Still, a rogue assassin had to do what a rogue assassin had to do and she’d joined the rebel cause in order to cut off the head of the serpent. Though, sometimes it was hard to reconcile that reason with her impatience.

  She was clo
se to getting the information she needed and hated the idea of stopping, but it couldn’t be helped. She’d never be able to live with herself if she didn’t at least make sure her brother was okay.

  At that thought, the same haunting eyes she’d seen before flashed through her mind, and a tingle of apprehension rushed through her. Still, it didn’t matter. She’d do what needed to be done for her brother, and then come back and finish her job. She couldn’t just give it all up.

  With the reason for her vow of vengeance never far from her mind, she grimaced. Guilt and regret for her lost soul mate continued to eat at her, even after all these years.

  With a shudder, she furiously shoved the memories away. Bending down, she wiped the blood off her sword with the disgusting Ilyium’s long, black robe.

  “Search them. Whatever coin they have is yours, but I need anything else you find,” she said.

  Win, with his damp, curly black hair plastered to his head, began to do as he’d been told. Raven turned away and rifled through the pockets of the last of the three men to challenge her.

  Straightening up, she unfolded and scanned the slip of paper she’d found on the Ilyium. Then, frowning, she slid it into her pants pocket before studying the key. She turned back to the building and re-sheathed her sword before checking her other weapons. Everything was still secure in their holsters and sheaths.

  “Here. What do you need all this for anyway?” Win asked as he handed her the bits and pieces he’d found.

  Raven scanned the items. “None of your business,” she said, a little more harshly than she intended. The truth was, she really didn’t know. She grabbed her pack from the ground where she’d dropped it and shoved the items into the front flap.