Darkbeam Part II

by Adrienne Woods

  I despised it. Elena had no right to even try to protect me from the one person I loved.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” I reassured her.

  “Don’t say that,” she hissed.

  I gave a slight shake of my head. “I’ve made peace with it, Irene, you should do the same.”

  “Not this time, Blake. Too many people promised that it would be different this time.”

  I chuckled wryly. “Lucian is never going to claim me, Irene.”

  She fell silent. I didn’t like her quiet thoughts. The last thing I needed was Irene wondering why I’d made peace with it. I turned to look at her.

  “What is it?”

  She shook her head. “Just been thinking a lot.”

  “About what?” I said through clenched teeth.

  She took a deep breath. “Maybe Lucian isn’t the only one who can claim you.” She looked straight into my eyes, her gaze unwavering.

  I waited. Don’t say her name. I pretended to be dumbstruck and shook my head.

  “The new girl.”

  Laughter burst out of me. “You can’t be serious.”

  “We can’t ignore the facts, Blake. Her mark is dark. Added to that, she is the sixth person to get out of the Sacred Cavern alive.”

  “Her father was a fucking dragon,” I snarled.

  “It doesn’t matter. She was born with the mark.”

  I slammed my fist on the bedside table, the neat lines of Fire Cain scattering into a heap. “It’s a birthmark; you said it yourself.”

  “I know what I said and I regret the way I treated her.”

  I could see it in her eyes. Irene didn’t like to be wrong about anyone and she had been so wrong about Elena.

  “You know, she has a foretelling.”

  I schooled my features into an expression of shock. “What does it say?”

  “A day will come and a day will go, a choice you’ll have to make otherwise the truth will never be known. I thought that was why she went after the sword, why she was so eager to go into that cave, because she knew that she would succeed, but her foretelling is still black, Blake. That wasn’t it.”

  “And you think it has something to do with me?”

  Shut up, Blake. Irene isn’t stupid. If I said anything slightly wrong, she would know.

  “Maybe, it just doesn’t make any sense.”

  “In what way, Irene? Please enlighten me,” I said sarcastically.

  “I don’t know. Nothing makes sense to me, Blake. I struggle to see her future. I know she’s with Lucian, but I still don’t see her.”

  I narrowed my eyes, feeling the crease between my eyes deepen. “What do you mean?”

  “In one of my visions I saw Lucian happy with someone, but I never saw who it was. When I try to see into Elena’s future, I get the same kind of headaches I used to get whenever I tried to look into Albert and Catherine’s future. A few of the professors believe Al and Kate somehow found a way to get her past the Wall.”

  “What?” I asked in disbelief.

  “A dragon always knows, Blake… I need you to be honest with me.”

  I sprang up from the bed and paced the length of the room. “Honest about what, Irene?”

  “Who is she?”

  “Elena?”

  Kill, the beast inside me hissed.

  I’m not killing Irene.

  “Yes,” Irene interrupted my murderous thoughts. “I see how she riles you up, Blake. The tabloids, when you are drunk… Oh my gosh.” She started to laugh ass he pinned me with stern look. “You tried to tell her, didn’t you?”

  “Irene,” I warned.

  “Please tell me that this is my imagination.”

  I wanted to say she is insane but I couldn’t lie anymore. My jaw muscles pumped, and my entire body went rigid.

  “Blake, answer me.”

  “She is not worthy of becoming my rider! She didn’t even know that dragons existed.”

  Irene gaped.

  I let out a humorless laugh. “And the higher power has given her some authority over me? No fucking way. I am not going to be tamed by that.”

  Irene shook her head. “With the right training she will be worthy.”

  “No!”

  “Dammit, Blake! Why haven’t you told anyone? I was rude to her. She is King Albert and Queen Catherine’s blood. The true princess of Paegeia. You can’t expect me to just sit here and pretend I don’t know. Master Longwei needs to know the truth.”

  She reached for her Cammy and spoke his name, but I was too fast. I lunged toward her, grabbing the Cammy from her hand and throwing it against the wall. It shattered.

  Irene’s eyes widened with fear.

  I grabbed her shoulders. “So help me, Irene, you tell them anything—”

  “Blake, please, she is your only chance to fight the darkness.”

  “No! She is nothing to me.”

  The intensity of my rage surprised me. I didn’t sound like myself.

  I slammed her into the wall, and her head thudded back at the impact. Her heart pounded, enticing the beast inside me.

  “Blake, please, don’t do this,” Irene begged.

  My eyes found hers and I spoke in my honey-glazed tone. “You will forget everything that happened here tonight. I was never here. Elena is dragon spawn. She doesn’t deserve to be at Dragonia Academy.”

  Irene’s eyes changed from bright blue to a glowing forest green. My compulsion came naturally when I was under the influence.

  “You and I, we were never anything but Viden and student. Our love never existed. I’m the Rubicon.”

  “You are the Rubicon.”

  “I am dark,” I growled in her ear.

  “You are dark.”

  “And no one can tame me.”

  “No one can tame you.”

  Her eyes closed and her body fell limply into my arms.

  A stray tear ran down my cheek as I gently put her limp body on the bed.

  Irene had given me no choice. She would be my downfall, literally.

  I grabbed my clothes off the floor, and took Irene’s stash of Fire Cain off the bedside table, slipping it into my pants pocket.

  One good thing would come out my compelling her to forget our relationship: she’d forget her addiction. She’d gotten addicted to the Fire Cain because of me.

  I wiped the tears from my face and glanced at Irene one last time before I turned and fled from her apartment. I took to the sky and let the dragon take over.

  My mind was hazy from the Fire Cain. I didn’t even know if I was flying straight.

  The sickeningly sweet scent that I smelled on the Hippogriff the night of the Warbel games hit me, overpowering my senses.

  I sniffed at the air until I could pinpoint the exact location of the scent. I hovered above a closed warehouse.

  I couldn’t make out what was being said inside—there were too many voices and I was too wasted to concentrate properly.

  The voices overpowered my mind and the smell burned my nostrils.

  They needed to die.

  Irene had said that the stranger was dangerous, that we were all in jeopardy.

  I didn’t think, I just opened my mouth and let my fire loose onto the warehouse.

  It would incinerate everyone inside. I didn’t care.

  I watched for a few minutes as the warehouse burned to the ground, then took off as the air filled with wailing sirens.

  I groaned as I stretched out on my bed. My head throbbed, and my entire body screamed in pain.

  What happened?

  I couldn’t remember anything.

  I could smell Sammy’s scent in my room, like she had spent the entire night here.

  I tried to open my eyes, but exhaustion overtook me and I drifted away again.

  My mother’s sobs echoed in my ears and I tried to lift my head, but it ached too much.

  Broken memories of my father’s wrath flashed in my mind, but they made no sense. I had been too
out of it last night.

  My aching body told me that I had gotten a beating, and a terrible one at that.

  Finally, I managed to take a deep breath through my nose and forced my eyes open.

  Everything was blurry and I winced as I blinked. Even that hurt.

  The smell of blood mixed with antiseptic hung heavy in the room.

  Yeah, another beating.

  My father hadn’t given me such a beating in ages.

  “Blake?” my mother rasped.

  “Leave me alone, please.” My throat was so dry every word burned.

  “I need to speak to you.”

  “Mom, please get the fuck out of my room,” I croaked. She let out another sob. The door shut behind her, and I let out a sigh.

  I didn’t care what she wanted to speak to me about.

  I muffled a scream into my pillow as I stretched, pain shooting through every nerve.

  I forced my healing ability to stop. I needed the pain.

  Humiliation coursed through me when I realized Elena was still here, witnessing the ugly part of what happened to dragons when they didn’t have a rider.

  I tried to force her out of my mind.

  Whenever I thought about her, I became more confused. I didn’t get confused about anything.

  Sure, I messed up, fucked up, but I always knew what I did, knew what the consequences would be.

  With her, it was like I knew nothing. My mixed up feelings threatened to tear me apart. It felt like I had no control.

  My life was more of a mess now than it had ever been, and Elena was responsible for all of it.

  Over the next week, I spent as little time as possible with my parents. I stayed in my room and tried to keep my healing ability from mending my body.

  The pain kept the beast calm, and it gave me a bit of space between Elena and the voodoo she had over my body.

  Here in my room, the beast was peaceful.

  I missed the quiet, the silence, the normal.

  It could stay like this, if you only opened your mouth and told the truth, the old Blake sneered in the back of my mind—the thirteen-year-old Blake who had been best friends with Lucian.

  I refused to listen to that Blake. He was my past and he would never be my future.

  That Blake didn’t know what I would have to give up in order to have that peace.

  I wouldn’t be myself if she claimed me and I fell under her spell.

  I had seen the drastic change in George, something only an enchantment could do.

  I was nobody’s slave.

  Scratch that. I’d rather be a slave to darkness and be myself, than be a slave to light and lose who I was.

  At least my sister and Elena had gone back to Dragonia a few days ago, a bright ray in the darkness.

  My mind was filled with new poems. Old poems, too. Especially those written Propertius, one of my favorite poets, though a lot of people confused him with Virgil.

  They had been friends and rivals, and both spoke from the heart.

  His poem, “Waylaid by Love,” was my favorite. I had never experienced that type of love until I met Irene.

  I missed her, but at least she was safe now that she didn’t know the truth. I’d have to stay away from her, or else her memories would return.

  The poem resonated with me, with who I was. I often wondered whether Propertius had known dragons, as the words of that poem were written through the eyes of a dragon.

  Another favorite of mine was “An Early Visit.”

  The way he spoke about his love, it was something I only felt for Irene. Whether it was as deep as what Propertius experienced or not, I didn’t know. But with Irene, it felt right.

  I recited the poems over and over in my head, in my heart.

  I had no idea how I was going to make it without Irene.

  I didn’t know how long I lay there, rolling the words of the poem over in my head, but time passed and my wounds were healing.

  I found my father and mother arguing one morning in the kitchen.

  They didn’t know I was close by.

  “They shouldn’t have given him a chance,” my mother hissed.

  “The Ancients believed that it was what Al wanted. He believed that they could be good, that not all were bad. It was his dying wish to prove it.”

  “His dying wish! Goran killed him, Robert. They were led by the Wyverns, or have you forgotten that? Who else has to die before you open your damn eyes? Wyverns will never be good. Helmut learned that the hard way!” She was screaming now, hysterical.

  “Blake can take care of himself, Issy.”

  “That is not what I meant. Goran will always be their king. The only reason he is in that school is to spy on Blake and relay what Goran wants to hear. That the darkness is already starting to get its claws into him. Am I the only one who sees it?”

  “No!” my father yelled. “I felt it with every beating I gave him that night. As long as he is willing to let me give him a hiding, Issy, he will stay strong.” It was quiet for a beat, then my father spoke again. “Lucian called me yesterday. As soon as Blake is back at school, he is going to try to claim him again.”

  “He is going to fail. That boy should stop or Helmut is going to lose his only living child. How much more danger do you two want to put our children through?”

  “I tried, Issy. The Ancients’ minds were already made up. The Wyvern is going to stay, no matter what any of us say.”

  My father’s chair screeched and I hurried back upstairs as softly as I could.

  I heard the front door slam.

  There was a Wyvern at Dragonia.

  Perhaps it had absolutely nothing to do with me. Perhaps the Wyvern just wanted to change for the better. But…

  Goran.

  Cold rushed up my spine. Just thinking about him, what he had done to us. He was going to become my rider if I didn’t open my mouth soon.

  But I didn’t want to suffer the consequences of that—become Elena’s slave.

  I’d meant what I said to Irene. Elena wasn’t worthy.

  She would never be worthy of me.

  My scars were almost healed and I had no choice but to head back to Dragonia.

  Lucian had called me numerous times, wanting to talk about something important.

  I wasn’t bothered. I knew he just wanted to tell me the date he planned to claim me.

  He was going to get himself killed.

  I forced myself to think about the poems instead of worrying about what lay ahead.

  Whether it was enslavement or darkness, nobody could tell.

  I bet Fox had seen it all.

  It must be why he had been so adamant to kill her.

  I wish he’d succeeded.

  I was intrigued with the man who had raised her. Matt said his name was Herbert, but the name was unfamiliar. There had been no Herberts on the council or in the Dragon League.

  A knock on my door jerked me out of my thoughts.

  It opened and my mother entered.

  She gave me a small, lopsided smile, and sat on my bed.

  I couldn’t look at her.

  “You know you have to return to Dragonia soon, Blake.”

  “What’s the use, Mom?”

  She raised an eyebrow and sighed. “I need to talk to you.”

  I gestured with my hands for her to speak.

  She opened her hand. Irene’s bag of Fire Cain lay in her palm.

  I stared at it. I couldn’t look at my mother’s heartbroken expression.

  “I deserve an explanation,” she said softly.

  “Mom, I try to hold on. Sometimes it’s easy, other times it’s not. The Fire Cain helps suppress it, sometimes the alcohol has the same effect.”

  She narrowed her soft, peacock-blue eyes at me. We had the same eyes, my mother and I—just like Elena and King Albert had the same eyes. It was one of the reasons I didn’t want to look at Elena. I kept seeing her father staring back at me.

  “So whenever you are drunk or using
Fire Cain, you’re fighting the beast?”

  It sounded stupid. In plain English, I was an addict. I became one trying to fight the beast. I was weak.

  My whole body shook as a sob escaped, my cheeks wet with tears.

  My mother wrapped her arms around me and let me cry.

  She said nothing, simply stroked my hair like she used to when I was a child.

  It was why I loved her so much. She never hovered, and no matter how bad my shit got, she never questioned my actions—until today.

  I lay with my head on her lap until I fell asleep.

  The ring of my Cammy woke me up, and I moved to grab it, but my mother put her hand on my head and reached around me to answer it.

  Professor Pheizer’s name flashed on the screen.

  Cold rushed up my spine.

  The old hag was practically and expert in Dents, and she had been on my case from the moment Elena started at Dragonia Academy.

  “Good evening, Trudy,” my mother said as she answered the hologram. “Is everything all right?”

  “Is Blake up? We desperately need him, Isabel.”

  In the background I could hear roaring, fighting, screaming. What the hell was going on?

  “What is it?”

  “Dragonia is under attack. Students are fighting. We need all the help we can get.”

  I sprang up, ignoring my mother’s protests. Professor Pheizer was still speaking when I jumped out my window.

  The beast came out and I flew as fast as I could.

  The last time I had flow this hard was when I clutched Elena in my paws.

  The greater power took over again.

  I was going to kill myself to get to her, to save her again. It was who I am, and even though I was fighting it with every ounce of my being, whenever Elena was in danger, who she was to me took over, and it would kill to save her.

  I flew faster than I ever had before, and my fire was starting to heat up my entire body.

  My mind screamed at me to stop, to slow down, but my willpower wasn’t strong enough.

  I was going to lose this battle.

  The first time I thought I wanted to save her. I hadn’t known then that it was a higher power that urged me to do it. I figured it out the second time I saved her, but I still couldn’t let any harm come to her, even though I desperately wanted to lift my wing to stop shielding her. It wasn’t me saving her, but it was the connection we were supposed to have. She was my Dent.