Age of Dragons

by Olivia Ash

  That was a hell of a blow.

  It's hard to focus on anything but Zurie. She's such a brilliant fighter that it takes all of my focus to just not die.

  I'm mostly aware of the war around us. Of the bloodshed and the men yelling for backup in the distance. The soldiers screaming for anyone who can hear them to help as gunshots patter through the air.

  I need to end this. I can't let it go on any longer.

  Reaching deep within, I try to shift again. My dragon leans in to me, battered yet willing, but we're both stretched to our limits. We’re moving slowly, slower than either of us want to move right now.

  The connection starts to build. We start to blur and fuse, but Zurie charges again, and the moment’s gone.

  My former mentor sneers as she swipes in my face, missing me by barely an inch.

  “Look at what you've done,” she says, breathing heavily. “Look at all the blood on your hands.”

  I duck, avoiding three consecutive blows in a row, barely listening even as she tries to goad me.

  “Do you know what I've had to do?” she snaps, driving the blade into my bicep.

  I grimace, punching her hard in the throat as she pulls the blade out of me to attack again.

  She coughs, sputtering, staggering backward as she glares at me and holds her one good hand to her throat as she recovers. “You know the favors I've had to cash in? The money I've spent just to kill you?”

  “Do I care?” I ask, shaking out my hands, ready for more.

  “No, of course not,” she says, spitting blood onto the ground as she violently stabs the blade at my face, missing by an inch. “You only ever cared about yourself.”

  I reach for the blade, and my fingertips brush the hilt a she pivots away from me. “I only cared about escaping you. You were the one who wanted me to be your pet. Your assassin for hire. Your legacy,” I add with a mocking sneer.

  I am so sick of this woman's hypocrisy.

  “And look what it got you,” she snaps, dragging the blade across my forearm. I wince as blood pools along my skin, dripping down my arm from the gash, but I won't let it stop me.

  “I have a family,” I snap. “A team of people who love me. I'd say it got me pretty far, thanks.”

  “You think they're safe?” she says, scoffing. “You think they're even alive? You're the only one left, Rory.”

  I laugh dryly. “You don't know my men.”

  “I do know your sister,” Zurie says, the corner of her mouth curling into a sinister smile. “She's dead. I saw to that.”

  “You weren't fast enough. I saved her.” I say, circling Zurie as she gauges me, sizing me up, trying to figure out where she's going to attack next.

  “Not possible,” Zurie says with a confident shake of her head. “No one comes back from a wound like that.”

  I know she's goading me, but I can't fight the pang of dread and trepidation that she might be right.

  I grit my teeth and fight through it, trying to shake the thought from my head so that I can focus. I won't let her distract me, not now, not with everything at stake.

  “I have six hit squads in the fray,” she says, pausing to wipe my blood from the blade onto her shirtsleeve.

  How interesting.

  This is a tactic I've seen her use before, albeit not often. Now and then, when she's backed into a corner, she will compile every power move she knows. Wiping my blood onto her clothes is supposed to make me feel insignificant and disposable. Talking about all the ways she's planning to kill me, all of the backup plans she has in place—that's supposed to make me feel hopeless.

  I don't think she realizes how much I hate her.

  “All six of those hit squads have just one purpose,” she continues, her dark eyes narrowing. “To kill the six of you. What are six people against thirty Spectres?” she asks, pausing as we slowly circle each other, as if she expects me to fill in the silence with an answer. “None of you will survive this fight, Rory. Not even if you kill me.”

  “When I kill you,” I correct her. “Your squads won't stop us.”

  “No?” she asks, shaking out her shoulders, her chilling grin never once fading. “Then how about the sleepers? The ones I have in the Knights? All of the Spectres hidden throughout the woods—the ones who have snuck into the dojo, the ones who will strike in your sleep.”

  Well, shit. I sure hope that's a bluff.

  She swipes at me again, and I dodge it effortlessly, grabbing her wrist and twisting. I nearly snap it, but she knees me in the back, freeing herself with seconds to spare.

  I stumble forward, falling against a tree as my wounds continue to bleed. I really hoped they would have clotted by now, and it's a terrible sign that they haven't.

  Come on, baby dragon, I say inwardly. We need to shift.

  And we really do. I'm running out of energy, and I think at this point only my dragon can save us.

  She leans into me again. She's trying.

  Really trying.

  My magic pools in my fingers, but at this point, I'm not even sure if I can access it. My head spins, the world tilting as Zurie stalks toward me. Darkness bleeds into my vision, clouding the edges and obscuring my periphery.

  I try to access my magic anyway. Fueled by my rage. By my anger. By my hatred. By my pain. Fueled by all the ways Zurie has tried to break me.

  “There are a half-dozen backup plans strung together to ensure none of the six of you survive this fight,” Zurie says as she stalks toward me, slower than I expected but still standing strong despite all her wounds and broken bones. “In fact, here's one of them,” she adds, pulling a detonator out of her pocket and lifting it into the air.

  She sneers and presses her thumb against the button.

  But nothing happens.

  I grin. “Oh, were you referring to those explosives down by the water?”

  Her smile falls, and she tosses the detonator aside like it's garbage.

  Like she's not devastated it didn't work.

  Like she wasn't counting on it, when I know she was.

  I stand, my shoulders squared. “You don't scare me anymore, Zurie. You used to have so much sway. So much control over me. But I'm stronger than you now. The magic helps, sure, and the dragon, yes, but most of all I'm stronger than you because you have to do everything alone. That's your weakness. Not mine.”

  “Even if you all kill me, the Spectres will never stop,” she snaps. “Diesel hates you just as much as I do.”

  “It will stop,” I correct her, balling my hand into a fist. “Because I won't stop with you. I'll annihilate the Spectres. I'll kill Diesel. Everything you've built, I'll destroy.”

  “I won't let you have the chance,” she says, her grip tightening on the blade in her hand.

  She attacks me furiously, done talking—and that’s fine. She and I have nothing left to say to each other.

  We fight, the blade whizzing through the air as we steal it from each other and dodge each other's blows—one after the other after the other.

  I can feel my dragon burning with hatred within me, aching to kill the woman who has threatened everything we care about and everyone we love.

  A surge of adrenaline pumps through me, a second wind of sorts, as I realize I can finally be free of her. I can really do this. I can take down the woman who has tried to cripple me from the start.

  Zurie stabs me twice in quick succession, the blade ripping deep into my side.

  As pain splinters through me, I yell, fighting through the agony and reaching into the depths of my soul for the last reserves of my energy.

  And as I yell, it becomes an ear-splitting roar.

  My dragon leans into me, and the two of us finally fuse. I shift, my brilliant scales glimmering in the low light as my hands become talons that press deep into Zurie's chest.

  I lean forward, the shift happening too quickly for her to move out of the way.

  As I roar into her face, magic burns in my throat, powerful and deadly—an unstoppable for
ce.

  My former mentor looks up at me, and in that moment, I see her resign herself to death. I see the fire and fight leave her eyes, and it's strange. I've never seen her calm before. I've never seen her surrender.

  She knows the fight is done.

  The magic is too powerful to contain, even if I wanted to. I let loose the fearsome blast aimed right at her, not even giving her a chance to even breathe one last breath before she dies.

  Blinding white light decimates the forest around me, illuminating everything for a few breathless moments. I can't even see anything but the brilliant white, and when the light does finally fade, only a charred black crater remains beneath me.

  Nothing of Zurie is left. Even the blade is gone, just like her legacy.

  There's nothing to remember her by but my scars, and I'm fine with that.

  Panting, I teeter, my head still spinning. My body bleeds, even as a dragon.

  As I regain my balance, I stare at the charred earth beneath me. Part of me mourns the woman who raised me. But she came here to kill everything I love, and that's not something I could ever forgive.

  But she's gone.

  Zurie is finally gone.

  I roar into the sky, partially in victory and relief, partially from all of the pain rattling across my body and, just the tiniest part of me, in grief.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Even with Zurie dead, I can't linger here.

  It doesn't matter how wounded I am. How battered. How bruised. My men and my sister are still in danger.

  Exhausted and struggling to stay conscious, I take to the sky. I beat my wings on the air, my claws digging into trees as I pass, doing anything I can to get airborne.

  Once I'm in the sky, flying low over the canopy, I carry myself back toward Jace, listening to the pulse of him in my heart. The sensation leads me to him and lets me know he's still alive.

  It gets stronger the closer I get.

  As I fly, a blast of electricity cuts through the air, laced with a brilliant blue glow.

  Jace’s magic.

  Afterward, the forest goes eerily silent.

  Too silent.

  As I approach the source of the blast, I land, taking down a tree as I skid across the ground, not really caring about grace or elegance as long as I can get to Jace.

  As long as I can help.

  Through gaps in the trees, I spot my thunderbird in a clearing. He stands over a white dragon’s body, his chest and wings heaving as he breathes heavily, gasping for air.

  I charge through, taking down another couple of trees on my way. They splinter and snap, falling to the ground, and he looks at me over his shoulder with murder in his eyes.

  But this is Jace.

  My Jace.

  He would never hurt me.

  I limp toward him and, as I reach him, lean my head against his. It's an act of comfort, of soothing. For a moment, he's stiff and still, but as I lean into him, he nuzzles back. His wing wraps around me as our connection opens, and blurred emotions of bloodlust and concern for me bleed through.

  I sigh, giving in, and I don't even try to mask the relief that bubbles deep within me— the relief I know he can feel.

  We're both so tired, so pushed to our limits, that we can't even form words.

  I look down at Guy, his body stiff and still, his wings draped over his stomach as his head cranes back at an unnatural angle. His body smokes slightly, and from here, I can see the hole cut clear through his stomach from Jace's blow.

  He's dead.

  I snort, white sparks fizzling from my nose as I glare at the asshole.

  Serves him right.

  Even though I can barely stand up, a gnawing worry eats at my gut. I nudge Jace and nod back to the dojo. Where are the others?

  Under heavy fire, he admits, chest still heaving as he leans into me for support. I barely made it out. Took a lot of blows and it hurt like hell, but I had to. He growls possessively, wrapping his wing around me. We need to get back to help them.

  Even as I hold Jace, trying to recover in this brief moment of respite, I snarl at the idea that anyone would dare hurt my men.

  Time for those bastards to die.

  Together, Jace and I take to the sky. Dawn cuts along the horizon, bleeding red and yellow into the dark blue night as the sun chases away the stars.

  As we fly, I survey the ground below us. Most of the fires are now smoldering ruins, nothing but towers of black smoke as the last bits of kindling burn away.

  Though the sky had been full of dragons, it’s now clear. Instead, dragon corpses lay across the ground, still as death. With every body I pass, all I can think is the same thing over and over.

  Zurie did this.

  Zurie did this.

  We soar toward the dojo ruins, and calling the rubble a ruin is honestly being a bit generous. Half of it is destroyed, nothing but piles of cracked rock. An orange glow fills dozens of the windows as fires continue to rage inside, and the roof collapses as we fly closer. Black smoke billows into the air as uncontrolled flames lick the timbers.

  Dojo soldiers circle the center courtyard and the south fields, and it would seem that Harper's arrival did in fact change the tides of the battle.

  Russell is never going to live that down.

  Men kneel in even lines across the field and courtyard, their hands on their heads as they surrender. Several jet-black Vaer dragons snarl as dojo dragons roar back at them, trying to get them to cooperate. One particularly feisty Vaer gets a clubbed tail straight to his skull. He snarls, shaking his head in pain but shifts to his human form and kneels with his hands on this neck.

  One by one, the Vaer and the Knights surrender.

  I do not, however, see any Spectres.

  Black trucks rumble up the roads, bypassing the debris and downed dragons, and I figure those must be prison trucks here to take the captives of war away, since the dojo lays in ruin.

  There’s no sign of Drew, Tucker, or Levi. I snarl anxiously.

  I spot Harper patrolling the south fields, her soft lilac scales impossible to ignore. But Jace banks toward the center courtyard instead, and I follow.

  As we near, the same lines of surrendering prisoners fill the courtyard, and dojo dragons circle above or stand guard on the walls. Jace angles downward, and I brace myself for impact.

  There isn't much space for me to land, and I do my best as my claws drag along the black stone. I wobble a little from inexperience and exhaustion, but no one seems to notice or care. I scan the prisoners as they glare at me, most of them peeking up even as their hands remain glued to the back of their heads, and I wonder what will happen to them. I wonder if they'll comply or if, as Russell said, they'll resist.

  A familiar golden thunderbird circles overhead, the yellow glow of his magic still bright even as the sun dawns. He angles toward us, barreling into the courtyard at breakneck speed.

  Toward me.

  Jace instinctively steps in front of me, his wings spread in defense and warning.

  Not to be outdone, Russell snarls, warning Jace to step aside without uttering a single word.

  I growl, the sound fierce and unafraid as I snap at the air, not really in the mood for either of them.

  Russell lands, the ground shuddering as his claws dig into the black rock. He snorts in anger, a surge of yellow light shooting from his nose.

  He forcefully presses his forehead against mine, and as the connection opens, I push back. A flurry of anger surges from him into me.

  I told you not to fight, he says, furious.

  I snort, sparks and magic curling on my breath as I'm pushed to my limit, to the depths of how much I'm willing to put up with.

  Almost too exhausted for words, I spread my wings and stomp my claw into the ground. The rock cracks under the force, and a burst of energy radiates in every direction. Sparks fly on the ripple of magic. It knocks over several pillars nearby, the rocks tumbling to the ground from the sheer force.

  I am not in the mo
od, I warn.

  In my periphery, Jace stands a little taller, his wings tucked to the side as he watches me proudly.

  Russell stiffens, and I figure he's trying to figure out if that's a challenge to his authority. In the end, he wisely lets it go.

  Did you find any Spectres? I ask through the connection, eager to get on with this and change the topic.

  He leans back, breaking the connection and watching me from the side of his eye. For a moment, he doesn't answer, and I wonder if he even will. But after a pause, he simply nods.

  I let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness.

  He brushes my wing with the tip of his to open the connection again in a less threatening way this time.

  They're taken care of, he says simply.

  Good, I say, nodding. Irena—

  Is with the nurses, recovering, he interrupts, looking around and surveying the damage surrounding us as he speaks. She will limp for a while, but she will be fine.

  And Eric? I press.

  Russell growls angrily, his lip curling as he snarls. A flood of grief comes through the connection in the moments before he snaps his wing away to break our link. He surveys the sky, unable to talk. I suspect he’s trying to hide the raw emotion, but I already felt it.

  I hang my head, my heart shattering.

  He’s… he's dead.

  I pinch my eyes shut in grief. For him. For the dojo. For Russell. For Jace.

  But mostly for Irena.

  Eric is dead—the one man she started to open up to. The one man I could see her really falling for.

  Dead.

  I snarl in anger, my rage and hatred burning again in my throat. I want to burn the energy off, but I can't yet. We're not done.

  Not caring for protocol or courtesy or good manners, I brush my wing against Russell’s to once more open the connection. Zurie said she had sleepers in here within the Knights and—

  We found them, he interrupts, his gaze shifting toward me as his eyes narrow.

  I lift my chin, not quite believing him, but Russell has surprised me before. I simply nod. Good.

  Movement in the corner of my vision catches my attention, and I look over as Tucker runs toward me from the open front doors of the destroyed building. Drew and Levi fly over the burning roof toward us as well, landing with thuds and nuzzling me in gratitude.