Pregnant by the Dragon King

by T. S. Ryder

Should he have said goodbye to Cleo? He usually did. He also usually kissed her. But, surely, in this situation, it wasn't a big deal if he skipped those small details. Time was of the essence, and going back up the stairs to kiss her would waste precious seconds.

  And if I die on this mission? The Rebeluna tried to assassinate me once already. Cleo's right, I don't know their numbers. And, after Camlo's death, they could increase as shifters flock to the fight against the king. There is a good possibility that I am going to die on this mission.

  Was that what she meant when she said that he was risking too much on this one mission? Was she not referring to his future, their future, but his life? Was Gordon right? Did she love him?

  Ridiculous.

  But as Darius continued down the stairs, he realized something that left him shivering in his boots. If Cleo did say that she loved him… he would not hesitate to say it in return. Whether she loved him or not, Gordon was right.

  I love her. Of all the stupid things… I love her. I married her for her ambition—no, I didn't. I didn't even know about her ambition until after we wed. I married her because from the moment I saw her, the thought of another man touching her made me want to kill.

  And that possessive feeling had not gone away since they married. He would still tear apart anybody who dared to touch her, but it was paired with another feeling. The desire to give her everything she wanted. To see her happy. He wanted to be king, he always did, but over the past four months since he married Cleo Paterson, he also wanted to see her be the queen. She was beautiful, smart, and deserved to be worshiped by every vampire in existence.

  I'm in trouble, he thought as he fished his phone from his pocket. Big, big trouble.

  Chapter Six – Cleo

  An alarm on her phone dinged. Cleo lunged for it, ignoring the annoyed looks from the two generals' wives she was hosting for tea. It was the fifth time in half an hour, but Cleo couldn't stop herself. It might be news from Darius or about Darius.

  Her heart sunk when she saw that it was only a message alerting her to a sale at her favorite clothing boutique.

  "Have you ever seen a woman seven months pregnant move that quickly?" one of her guests asked the other, tittering.

  "I apologize," Cleo said, keeping the phone in her hand this time. "I have not seen my husband in four months."

  After he left to learn more about the shifters that had attacked Lord Virgil, Darius had soon found out about various nooks within the vampire kingdom where their enemies were hiding. Ever since then, it seemed like he had gone from battle to battle with hardly half an hour to call her and tell her that he was still alive before fighting again.

  "You must be very proud of your new general," one of the wives, Marta, said, patting Cleo's hand. "The palace is always talking about him. We haven't seen a military leader like him since our great King Iosif's dear brother who was killed by shifters–other than the king himself, of course. I hear that the king is considering him to be his next heir."

  "I would trade all his glory and honor for him to be home with me, safe," Cleo said bitterly, looking away. "I don't know what I'll do if he doesn't come home. If he never meets his child."

  Her hands cupped her swollen belly protectively, shivering at the thought that the child she carried might never be able to meet or see his father. The pregnancy hormones were really messing with her brain these days. Whenever she thought of never seeing Darius again, she couldn't breathe. It was so horrible that there were days that she was frozen with fear, staring at her phone, unable to concentrate on her tasks.

  It was silly, she knew it. Darius was a fine, strong vampire. He knew the risks of going off to battle, and he had his position and their future in mind.

  It didn't stop her from wanting to phone him up and beg him to return home, hang the consequences.

  Marta patted her arm. "Yes, I know that feeling all too well. But it's part of the territory when you marry a vampire. You never know when they'll go off to war. Or if they'll return."

  Cleo managed a polite smile. As much as she knew she needed to keep up appearances with these people, she couldn't help but want these two women gone. She was tired of hearing about how proud she must be, or how everybody thought highly of Darius. She was tired of hearing their speculations on how his battles would end, or how quickly he would find success. It all came with the unspoken speculations that he might be dead soon.

  She needed a distraction, if only for a little while. She cut off tea with the two wives early, feigning a headache. Once they were gone, she headed directly into town to see Ed. Her sister didn't know anything about what was going on outside her hospital, and that was exactly what Cleo needed.

  These days, visiting Ed was the only bright spot of her life. She visited her sister every day without fail. It was the only time she could concentrate on something other than the fact that Darius could be in a life-and-death battle at that very moment.

  Ed squealed her happy squeal when she saw Cleo and rushed over to hug her and pat her belly.

  "When is she going to be born?" Ed asked as they sat at her desk.

  "It'll be another two months, and it's probably a boy," Cleo replied. She fluffed her sister's dark hair. "After he's born, I'll bring him to visit you."

  "Maybe I can come see you. That would be nice. Maybe we can even go riding horses. Does Darius have any horses?"

  Cleo shook her head. "Some vampires do, but we don't. Too much work."

  "Oh." Ed made a face. "Well, it's a good thing you love him, then."

  Cleo jolted at Ed's simple statement. She tried to calm her pounding heart, instead smiling at her sister. Ed's views of the world weren't as tainted as her own. She didn't know that Cleo had only married Darius for his position and that it was the same reason Darius had married her. Ed still thought that people only married one another because they were madly, deeply in love with one another.

  "Yes," she said, trying to sound convincing. "I do love him."

  Do I? She tried to shove away the thoughts. It doesn't matter. Even if I did love him, he doesn't love me. It's all about ambition with him. And that's all there is for me as well.

  "Cleo?" Ed touched her cheek. "You're crying."

  "Oh, no. I'm not crying. I just have watery eyes right now." She wiped her face.

  Ed didn't look convinced. Before she could continue to press, though, a nurse walked into the room. His skin looked pale, eyes wide. His muscles were coiled, and the smile that worked its way onto his face was obviously fake.

  "Mrs. Paterson, there is someone at the front desk who needs to speak with you. It's urgent."

  Cleo jumped to her feet. Her heart was in her throat as all sorts of things flashed through her mind. The nurse was looking so shaken because it was a vampire here looking for her. They were here to tell her that Darius was dead. That the shifters had struck off his head, or driven a silver stake through his heart, or burned him to ash.

  "I'll be back," she told Ed, then hurried to follow the nurse down to the front desk.

  A lithe, thin woman was waiting for her. She didn't look familiar, but Cleo didn't know all the vampires or their wives in the kingdom. She only knew the higher-ranking ones, and they wouldn't send one of them for news about Darius. Cleo practically ran to the woman.

  "What is it?" she asked, heart in her throat. "Is it Darius? Do you have news from the war?"

  "This is her?" The woman's hand clasped Cleo's arm.

  The front desk clerk and the nurse both nodded. Cleo's stomach twisted. How would the vampires even know where to find her? A musky scent she hadn't noticed, too intent on learning about Darius, finally worked its way to her brain. It was the same scent that Darius often had clinging to him after he dealt with shifters. This woman was one of them. Her heart beat even faster. This was a trap. Somehow, this was a trap and she had walked right into it.

  "Who are you?" she demanded.

  The woman gave her a disgusted look. "We're leaving now."

  "Who
are you?"

  "Remember," the woman said, gazing back at the clerk and nurse. "If you tell anybody about this, my compatriots will level this place. Understood?"

  Cleo's lungs struggled to draw in a breath as she gazed at the woman in horror. The shifters threatened to flatten a hospital? How depraved were they? The place was full of humans, sick humans, they were no threat. Vampires never came there.

  The shifter began dragging her away.

  "Wait," Cleo squeaked. "My sister, she'll worry."

  "And if you cause me any troubles, she'll be dead. Come along now, human. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves."

  Cleo shook as both terror reared its head and rage filled her chest. How dare they threaten her sister? Ed had nothing to do with them. She had nothing to do with vampires. And yet, they were targeting her just the same.

  This was why Darius did what he did. Why all the vampires did what they did. Shifters had no regard for life outside their own clans. If the vampires hadn't driven them back as much as they had, there would be shifters killing humans left and right.

  "My husband will kill you," Cleo hissed, yanking her arm away. She walked beside the shifter stride for stride.

  Whatever they had planned for her, they would not hurt Ed.

  ***

  The woman didn't blindfold her. She didn't tie her hands. All she did was take Cleo’s phone away and remind her that if she attempted to escape, then Ed would die. It was enough of a threat that Cleo kept quiet and still as the shifter put her in an old, beat-up pickup truck and drove out of the city. They were on the road for hours before the woman stopped on a deserted stretch and got out.

  Cleo was certain she would be dead at that moment, but the woman merely told her to climb onto her back, then smoothly shifted into a deer. The size and coloring looked like a tiny Roe deer, but this one was a good six feet at the shoulder. The young human had to climb onto the hood of the car to get onto the deer's back.

  She had never known just how huge shifters were before this. She clung to the deer as they headed into the forest.

  By the time the ride was over, Cleo thought that the jostling might put her in early labor. She cradled her belly as she climbed stiffly off the deer and looked around. They were at a campsite with dozens of tents spread out through the trees. People were moving about doing various tasks. They were all dressed in ragged clothing like the strips now clinging to the deer. Shifters, all of them.

  A huge, thick-necked man caught sight of them and strode over, a wicked grin crossing his face. Cleo tried to make herself smaller, holding her belly. Would they kill Ed anyway, now that she was here? Would they skin her and send the pieces back to Darius?

  She wished she could faint as the man stopped right in front of her and took her chin in his massive hand.

  "So you have her. I knew I could trust you with this mission. How did you do it?"

  The deer smirked. "I've been watching the estate for months. Every day she went to a human hospital in the human town. It was easy enough to convince the people that worked there they'd all be killed if they didn't hand her over to me."

  Cleo glowered. "You threatened innocent civilians who have nothing to do with vampires."

  "Humans, vampires." The deer shrugged. "All the same to me."

  She pushed the huge man's hand away from her face as he continued to hold her chin. "What are you going to do with me?"

  The man stepped back, studying her. "Do you love your husband?"

  Cleo remained silent.

  "You had better hope that he loves you. Because now that I have you, either he will turn himself over for your sake, or you die. I wonder what he'll choose."

  Cleo closed her eyes, feeling light-headed as the woman started dragging her to a tent. Would Darius come for her? Did she even want him to? If he did, he would be killed. If he didn't, she would be killed.

  Darius, don't come, she pleaded silently. Stay safe.

  Chapter Seven – Darius

  Darius tossed aside the empty blood bag and reached for another one. He and his men had been under shifter attack for nearly a full week, and it was the first time that he had been able to take a break from the fighting. His skin was incredibly tender, having suffered under the claws and teeth of dozens of shifters, but he was healing.

  The shifters had withdrawn abruptly, which worried him, but it allowed his troops to reinforce their positions. As soon as the helicopters bringing more blood arrived, Darius would have his troops restock and then go after the shifters. Drive them out.

  This was bigger than the Rebeluna now. He had learned that the shifters were taking orders from someone named the Thunder, but where this mysterious leader was, he had no idea. At least not yet.

  The door to his tent opened and Gordon strode in. Darius tossed him a spare blood bag. His friend looked like the stereotypical Hollywood vampire. Pale, gaunt – like a walking corpse. Gordon set the bag aside.

  "General."

  "Captain." He had been promoted on the battlefield, but it was still odd to hear his new rank. "What’s the news?"

  "One of the men found this nailed to the trees at the edge of the camp."

  He held out a white, sealed envelope that had Darius' name scrawled on the front.

  The general frowned as he took it. There was such a heavy shifter scent coming from the blood soaking his clothing that he couldn’t catch any scent on the envelope itself. He felt along it and held it up to the light. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so he opened it.

  Inside was a letter written in a neat hand. Darius's heart stopped as he read it, then read it again to make sure that he wasn't seeing things. When he was done, he wadded up the whole thing and shoved it into his pocket before slumping over. Gordon gripped his shoulder, peering into his eyes.

  "Darius! Darius, what is it? Do you have silver poisoning?"

  "No." Darius took a deep breath. "The shifters have Cleo. If I don't turn myself over to them, they'll kill her."

  Silence answered him. Darius pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew exactly what would happen if he turned himself over to the shifters. The worst of it was that he had no idea if they had already killed her or if they even had her at all.

  He grabbed his phone and dialed his wife. "Voicemail."

  "Maybe she's talking to someone else or her phone is off," Gordon said.

  Darius turned to his friend. "No. She never turns it off, and she'd put anybody else on hold for me."

  "Call the estate before you leap to conclusions."

  Gritting his teeth, trying to keep his own panic at bay, Darius nodded. It was a smart idea, after all. He called his estate only to find that nobody had seen Cleo for almost twenty-four hours. That was all he needed to know. He strode to his wardrobe, pulling out his dress uniform. He wasn't going to face the shifters soaked in their blood.

  Gordon looked alarmed. "Darius, what are you doing?"

  "I'm going to shower and change and then turn myself over to them. It's Cleo's only chance."

  "Hey, no. You have to have proof of life."

  "I don't have to do anything but get my wife back."

  Gordon grabbed his arm. "You won't be getting her back, you'll be getting yourself killed!"

  "I know!" Darius yanked his arm away from his friend. "I know that if I go, I'll be killed. I know that if for some reason the shifters don't kill me, by giving into their demands like this… by not telling anybody I have coordinates that we can find them… that I will be wiping out every bit of progress that I've made in my career, and will most likely be branded a traitor for it. Maybe even killed by the king. I don't care. All I care about is Cleo. I love her. I won't lose her."

  "Darius—"

  "If you try to stop me, I will kill you. I swear it, Gordon. Go ahead and tell the other generals, but don't you dare try to stop me."

  Gordon stepped back. His shoulders slumped. "I am going to tell the other generals."

  Darius nodded. He stuffed his dress uniform in
to a backpack and slung it over his shoulder. Gordon was already on his phone as he ran from the tent towards the motorcycles. Nobody was going to stop him from saving his wife.

  Nobody.

  ***

  The letter said that if any vampires beside him showed up at the meeting spot then Cleo was dead, so Darius made sure to burn the letter and the coordinates he had been given when he stopped at a motel to shower and change. He left his phone there, too, knowing that every time it rang it was a general or prince ordering him back.

  It didn't matter. He didn't care about rank anymore. Without Cleo, it wasn't worth it.

  Two shifters waited for him at the coordinates atop a bridge over a raging river. After they searched him, they tossed his bike over the railing and prodded him into a black van. He was blindfolded after that, and some time later they led him through the forest on foot.

  "Stinking vampire," one of this captors grumbled. "Don't know what all this ceremony is about. If it were up to me, he'd have his head in a box being mailed to their precious king already."

  "It's not up to you," the other one said, sounding annoyed. "The Thunder must have a reason for wanting the vampire alive."

  The Thunder? The Alpha who was commanding the attack on the vampires. Well, that was interesting information, but useless now. He couldn’t tell anybody about it. Not that it mattered anymore.

  Darius burned to ask if Cleo was alive or hurt, but he made himself stay silent. Even if he was in their hands and power, that didn't mean he couldn’t retain his pride. Still, his heart pounded wildly and his mouth was dry. What would he do if they had harmed Cleo?

  Or more correctly, how many of them would he be able to kill before they killed him?

  He began smelling an increase in the musky shifter scent as they made their way through the forest. The hairs on the back of his neck rose and he had to fight to keep himself from snarling and baring his fangs. Threatening his captors while his hands were tied and he was blindfolded would only end him before he knew if Cleo was safe or not.

  Jeering taunts began to be flung from every direction, but he still stayed calm and unresponsive. His nostrils flared as he inhaled, but the shifter smell was too heavy. He couldn't smell Cleo. If he was basing his knowledge on what he could sense in the moment, he wouldn’t have even suspected she was there.