Age of Dragons

by Olivia Ash

  I crane my neck until I can see him, and he's staring off over the cliff. His eyes slip slowly out of focus as my question tugs on an old memory he’s trying actively not to recall.

  His eyes dart suddenly toward me, clear and focused on my face, and he smirks. “You're going to make me tell you anyway, aren't you?”

  In the past, I would have said yes. The old me would have been relentless. I would’ve prodded and poked until I got my answer, but I know Levi better, now, and I would never want to cause him pain.

  “No,” I say simply. “It’s okay.”

  His smile broadens, and he tenderly kisses my cheek. “You want to shift, and you want to know how it happens the first time. I understand. If you want to hear this story, I’ll tell you.”

  “Your call,” I say, shrugging.

  It’s weird—giving up a bit of power. To not press for information that would benefit me. It goes against all my Spectre training, goes against everything Zurie ever taught me about life and self-preservation.

  But this is a new life, and I’ve changed.

  I like to think it’s for the better.

  “I don’t want pity,” he says. “But this isn’t a pretty story. The Vaer are cruel and heartless,” he adds, his shoulders stiffening as he holds me ever so subtly tighter.

  I rub my thumb across his knuckles to comfort him, letting the silence be my answer.

  “I used to train with my commander every day for six hours,” Levi says, setting his forehead once again against the back of my skull. His warm touch shoots ribbons of comfort and delight through me, and I impulsively lean into him as he continues. “My commander never told me what the training sessions were for, or what the goal was, or what he was trying to accomplish. I was only eight, and I didn't understand why he was pushing me so hard. Breaking my bones and asking me to do the impossible.” Levi gritted his teeth, his jaw flexing as he lost himself in the memory. “Looking back, it's obvious. He was trying to get me to shift as early as possible, trying to push me to tap my dragon and do more than I should have been able to do for that age. And when I didn't shift fast enough, one day he pushed me to the absolute brink. It wasn't a sparring session. It was an attack, a full-on brutal, near-death experience.” Without moving the rest of his body, Levi grabs my waist tightly, his fingers pressing hard against my skin for comfort. “He forced my first shift because at that point, my choices were to shift or die.”

  For a moment, I don’t know what to say.

  Grown men don’t treat kids that way. They shouldn’t try to break a child, much less bruise and shatter his soul.

  But the Vaer operate differently than the rest of the world, with unusual morals and ethics.

  And by unusual, I mean next to none.

  I want to say so much. I want to apologize for the cruelty he experienced in his life, for the brutality and for the hate he should have never seen.

  But everything that comes to mind feels empty. Hollow. Like nothing but words.

  With my hand on his, I open our connection—the strange line we have between each other even in human form. A tangled web of emotions bleed through the open channel, and I can feel him trying to rein them in out of either shame or a desire to save me from them.

  Instead of saying a thing, however, I just listen. I open up to him completely, and I feel his pain. I feel the horrors he has been through. I share them, letting him know he’s not alone—and never will be again.

  We sit there in silence, feeling and being, simply sitting with the grief.

  Levi breaks our connection, lifting his hand to grab my waist. Effortlessly, he turns me around to face him, spreading my legs on either side of his as he sets me on his lap. I lean my forearms against his solid chest, leaning in to him as his eyes wander across my face.

  After a moment more of silence, Levi winds his arms around me and holds me tightly to his chest.

  “It's not fair, Levi,” I say quietly. “You've had such a hard life that it seems almost impossible that you turned out as good as you are.”

  He laughs and runs his hand through my hair, leaning back slightly so that he can see my face. “That’s a kind thing to say, Rory.”

  “Well, it's the truth.”

  It gives me hope. It makes me think there might be more like him, other Vaer dragons who aren’t evil, who aren’t merciless, who aren’t cruel and brutal at all. Other Vaer who are just good people forced to do vile things.

  My dragon stirs, aching for more of this man, and I’m not about to deny her the pleasure.

  Without giving it any further thought, I lift my chin and kiss him deeply. Flurries of delight snake through me as his warm mouth moves against mine. His hands hold me tightly, like I’m a precious thing he fears losing, and he tenderly cradles the back of my head.

  His touch is both strong and tender, like he’s almost afraid I'm not real.

  Through the kiss, our connection opens once again. The surge of emotions flooding from him into me are almost more than I can handle.

  Devotion.

  Gratitude.

  Love.

  I gasp as the emotion burns through me, hot and fierce, dedicated and unyielding. I break the kiss to catch my breath, a little dazed as I try to get my bearings once again.

  Everything with Levi is so intense, so full and fierce and completely wild, that sometimes I can't handle it.

  His icy blue eyes study me, waiting for me to say something. No doubt wanting to know what I'll do next.

  Hell, even I don't know.

  To escape his intense gaze, my eyes trail down his torso, past the tight pecs straining against his shirt. I run my fingers along his hard chest and down his abdomen. A long, thick line runs underneath my fingertips, and I pause.

  The scar.

  It seems like ages ago that I met him in the forest and saved him from the snare. Even back then, there was this huge scar across his abdomen, but he never told me how he got it.

  “Kinsley,” Levi answers as my fingers hover over the wound. He didn't have to read my mind to know what I was thinking.

  “What’s she like?” I ask, not entirely sure I want to know.

  Levi shrugs. “I never knew her personally. I just had that one fight with her when she came to end me—the feral dragon who killed her lover.” He scoffs and shakes his head. “She's brutal, Rory. Absolutely merciless. She doesn't tolerate surrender, and she doesn't show pity. The only reason I survived is because she knocked me off a waterfall. I'm pretty sure she thought the drop into the sharp rocks killed me—and they nearly did.”

  I tense at the thought of the Vaer Boss fighting Levi, of her digging her claws across his abdomen and ripping him open. Of her tossing him off a cliff and leaving him for dead.

  It makes me hate her all the more.

  Eventually, I know it will come to a head between me and her, and I won't leave her to die. I won’t assume, and I won’t make mistakes.

  When the time comes—as I’m increasingly sure it will—I will watch the light fade from her eyes.

  Kinsley Vaer won’t survive me.

  The strained grunts of two people fighting catch my attention, and I sit upright on instinct as I listen closely to it. My ears strain in the silent night, trying to catch another hint of the fight.

  For a moment, I can't hear anything, and I look at Levi quizzically. He frowns, eyes narrowing in focus. His ear twitches as he, too, listens for the noise again.

  There, in the distance—the clear thud of knuckles breaking over skin.

  Urgent and silent, we stand and steal through the night toward the confrontation. As we stalk through the shadows, it takes everything in me not to let myself simply watch Levi move.

  He’s distractingly stunning as he steals through the darkness.

  His striking eyes narrow, clear and focused on the world ahead of him. His muscles flex, his body crouched and coiled. Every motion, every step, every breath is concentrated and alert.

  No wonder he can sneak up on even
me. It's almost like he becomes one with the shadows, one with the darkness and silence.

  It's hypnotizing.

  The smack of skin hitting skin and the grunts of pain that follow get louder as we near the confrontation.

  Before long, we come to a clearing in the woods. Through the trees, two figures duck and weave, nothing but silhouettes darting through the silvery beams of moonlight at breakneck speed.

  It's not until I kneel beside the nearest trunk and lean around it to get a better view that I recognize one of them.

  Irena.

  Her bright green eyes briefly sweep the forest as she circles a handsome man about our age. His dark eyes are narrowed with focus and intention, his hands raised as he waits for her to attack again.

  But Irena’s no fool. She frowns, scanning his body. Her gaze lands on his left shoulder, and I figure she’s trying to guess what he will do next.

  Rips and tears in her clothes reveal the flurry of cuts across her body, the blood hidden by the dark colors of the shirt and loose pants the dojo gave her.

  Beside me, Levi stiffens and takes a step toward the clearing, probably to interject. To stop this before it gets truly ugly.

  I set a hand across his chest and silently shake my head.

  He catches my eye, frowning—but I know what this is.

  I run my fingers along his forearm, opening our connection so that we can speak unheard.

  They’re sparring, I tell him.

  He quietly scoffs, scanning the two fighters that circle each other in the clearing. Blood drips down Irena’s fingers from a gash in her bicep, and the skin along the man’s neck is black and blue. That's one hell of a brutal sparring match, Rory.

  Well, yeah, I say with a shrug. It's an audition.

  Levi quirks one eyebrow in surprise, his grip on my hand tightening slightly. An audition?

  Most Spectres do this, I confess with a nod, even though it was never my thing. She wants to know if this guy can handle her. Irena only dates men who can at least match her skill.

  Levi smirks as a flurry of emotion snakes through our connection—equal parts astonishment and respect. The connection dissolves as he leans his elbow on his knee, watching the two fighters go at it.

  “I could just shift and fly off with you, you know,” the guy says, smirking as he rolls out his shoulders, ready for her next blow. “Maybe drop you a few times to knock some sense into you.”

  Irena laughs. “Try me, Eric.”

  Eric grins and charges her, grabbing her arm and flipping her over his back. Irena’s faster, however, and she hooks her arm under his. With a soft grunt of effort, she uses his own momentum against him as she throws him onto the ground. He hits the dirt with a hard smack, groaning briefly in pain and surprise.

  Beside me, Levi winces.

  That’s got to hurt.

  Hell, I know it does. I've been there before, sparring with my ruthless sister in the ring, and I don't envy that man at all.

  But if he wants Irena, he needs to be able to handle her.

  Irena is going to notice me sooner or later, so I decide to cut to the chase and make myself known. I step into the clearing and lean against a tree, crossing my arms as I watch them fight.

  Irena's gaze darts instantly toward me, and she just rolls her eyes.

  Eric, however, grins. “Come to watch the show?”

  “Something like that,” I answer.

  Irena sighs and lowers her hands, relaxing her shoulders as she steps back from the fight. “No, I think we're done.”

  “Oh, don't let me kill your fun,” I say, grinning.

  “You're not,” Irena says with a smug glance toward the stranger. “I've got all the information I need.”

  “So,” Eric asks with a playful smirk. “How did I do?”

  Irena shrugs. “I've seen worse.”

  With that, and nothing else, she walks off into the woods.

  The shifter frowns, tilting his head toward me with a quizzical expression on his face, clearly asking me to decipher that for him.

  I grin. “You passed.”

  He smiles, practically beaming as he jogs off after Irena. He puts his arm around her shoulders, and just to be difficult, Irena counters. She grabs his wrist and twists it, bending his arm behind his back.

  Eric, however, seems to expect her to put up a bit of a fight. Without so much as a moment’s hesitation, he twists in her grip and breaks free, only to put his arm around her shoulder yet again. Exasperated, she allows it this time.

  I chuckle. It seems as though Irena has finally met her match.

  Just as Eric did with Irena, Levi puts his arm around my shoulders. I, however, lean toward him, setting my head on his shoulder as I smile. Irena is going to fight it, but I can already tell that she's found someone worth keeping.

  It's about damn time.

  Chapter Four

  The next morning, I take a deep breath as sweat rolls down my back.

  Today is beautiful—the kind of day where you need to stay outside and soak up the sun, to enjoy the breeze and the fresh air and do nothing but relax.

  But I can't remember the last time I relaxed.

  Jace attacks me with a broadsword, the blade coming down over my head. In my life as a Spectre, I wouldn’t have even been able to lift a sword that big—but now, my body is enhanced with the power and strength of dragons.

  I lift my own broadsword just in time to hear the clang of metal as the two collide.

  Even with my enhanced strength, he's a force to be reckoned with. As I grit my teeth to fight his blade from coming down on my head, I slowly begin to lose ground. The edge of his blade looms nearer as his jaw tenses from the strain of our battle, and I know I can’t hold this for long.

  I have no choice but to roll out of the way.

  With a grunt of effort, I twist my sword and let his blade slide off. The razor-sharp steel digs into the dirt by my foot with a heavy thud.

  Quick to regain the upper hand, I dart out of the way and put distance between me and the dojo master my dragon has chosen as her mate.

  I regain my footing and stand, the two of us slowly circling as we glare at each other, each trying to figure out what the other’s next move will be. The canopy above us sways, the treetops bending in a gentle breeze, but I don't give myself the luxury of focusing on the world around me. I pay only enough attention to the forest around us to listen in case someone unwelcome decides to join in our match.

  Sparring with Jace takes my full and undivided attention.

  He attacks again, the blade swirling almost too fast to see, but I'm just a hair faster. I duck out of the way, rolling again as I give myself a bit of distance. He doesn't even pause to breathe. He swings his sword behind him, nearly catching me off guard, and I’m barely able to block the blow in time.

  The clang of steel echoes through the forest as our blades meet again.

  There's something different about today. Usually when we spar, he's focused and attentive, so that part isn’t new.

  It’s the grim expression on his face right now that startles me—the way his eyes narrow, as if he needs to make sure I understand something. As if he's trying to teach me a lesson that he hasn't yet put into words. One that could save my life, if only he can impress the importance of it.

  He's hiding something.

  “Rory, focus,” he chides.

  What the hell does he think I’m doing?

  Jace attacks yet again, never one to give me space or a moment to breathe, but this time I'm ready. I duck under the blow and ram my shoulder into his chest, knocking him backward and onto his ass. He lets out a huff of air, a little groan as he hits the ground hard. The muscled thunderbird pauses for a moment to regain his composure, his face scrunched in pain.

  “That was good,” he admits through clenched teeth.

  I chuckle. “How's that for focus, Sensei?”

  He doesn't laugh. Normally, he would, and that just seals it for me—something is definitely
wrong.

  Instead, he stands and twirls his sword, eyes roving my body as he searches for a weak point to attack. Despite being knocked on his ass a moment ago, he’s already preparing his next assault.

  I frown, my grip tightening on the hilt of my blade as I slowly circle him, trying to buy time to catch my breath. “What's going on with you, Jace?”

  “Nothing,” he says, his eyes focused on my shoulders—no doubt in an effort to predict my next move.

  The shoulders always give it away.

  “Liar,” I say, calling him out.

  I know him by now. He's worried. I don't know what he's worried about, though. Whatever it is, he wants to make sure I'm ready for it.

  It would seem as though Jace is, yet again, hiding things from me.

  The man never freaking learns.

  This time, I attack first, mostly out of anger and frustration. He's ready, parrying instantly. Like lightning and thunder, we land blow after blow. For several minutes, we simply dance a deadly waltz of steel and sparks.

  I have a couple of choices here.

  Either I can ignore him and let him come to me when he's ready to talk, or I can prod him and force the information out of him through sheer, stubborn tenacity.

  Option two sounds like more fun.

  “I know something's wrong,” I press as I duck his blade. The steel cuts through the air above me and nearly slices off a lock of my hair. “You may as well tell me what it is.”

  “I don't know what you're talking about,” he lies.

  As I bring my sword down over his head with a furious growl, he blocks it. His biceps flex, bulging with the effort of his attack. The clang of clashing metal reverberates up my blade and into my arms, ringing clear to my teeth.

  I step away, shaking out my hands as I take a moment to recover from the blow. “If you won't tell me what it is, maybe I'll have to take a peek through your secured files.”

  He scoffs. “You don't even know where they are.”

  “Don't I?” I smirk.

  I don't.

  It’s totally a bluff, but he doesn't need to know that.

  “I've been playing nice,” I say, still smirking. “We had our truce, and I've been honoring it. But if you're hiding stuff from me, well…”