Fire Heart: A Dragon Fantasy Romance (The Dragon of Umbra Book 1)

by Emma Hamm

  He reached with his free hand and tucked a matted strand of her hair behind her ear. Fingers ghosting over a cut on her cheekbone. “I remember it was green. An oasis had created everything around the nesting grounds. A deep well of water that spilled out like emeralds dotted with sapphire flowers. The female dragons would come from all around Umbra and they would lay eggs that looked like gemstones. Each one was more beautiful than the last. And the sun...” He smoothed his fingers over her forehead, easing down her eyes until they naturally closed. “You could always feel the sun on your face.”

  She took a deep, calming breath. Her eyes moved underneath her closed lids, as though she could see what he spoke of.

  He could do this. He could paint a picture that transported her from a dungeon into an ancient realm. “I remember the feeling of the wind on my face from their wings as they cooled the eggs. The sound of their humming deep in their dragon throats as they sang to their babies. And the feeling of hope that came with every moment I watched them in their nests.”

  “I remember the cool touch of the moon,” she whispered, a single tear dripping down her cheek. “Running through the woods beside my mother. Our legs felt longer in those moments when the moon sent her rays to give us strength. To chill the heat from the sun.”

  Abraxas cupped her jaw and turned her head to his. He ever so gently touched his forehead to hers. His emotions rioted, warring from wanting to kill the King for all this harm and sadness that she had ever suffered.

  She reached between the bars and mirrored him. Her hand clutched his jaw, her fingers still shaking and so thin. So delicate. Her tears spilled out then, falling onto his cheeks until he could taste salt on his tongue.

  And his heart squeezed. He never wanted to see her hurt. Never again.

  He took a deep breath, chest swelling with some unnamed emotion that felt so important. Life changing. As though if he didn’t say the words that pressed against his tongue, then nothing would ever be the same again.

  Or maybe it was that he dreaded his life remaining the same.

  “Oh good,” Beauty’s voice sliced through their quiet moment. “You’re both here.”

  Chapter 32

  Lore

  She wanted to kiss him.

  Damn it, Lore wanted to kiss the dragon who had killed her mother, and she didn’t feel even an ounce of guilt over that.

  The entire time she’d sat in the dark, listening to the other prisoners’ quiet conversations, she had wanted Abraxas to come. She’d wanted to see him one last time after the King described in detail what it would feel like to die. She’d wanted to see Abraxas’s stupid face and scold him again for not seeing the world the way she did.

  Mostly, she just wanted to be around him. The peace that came from him standing next to her eased her mind. So much so that Lore didn’t even know what to call this.

  She was a half elf. Forgotten by both sides of the coin and not wanted by either. But he made her feel like she was wanted by someone.

  When he’d arrived, it was as if her heart had started beating again. Sure, she was going to die soon. And yes, they had only known each other for a short amount of time. None of that mattered.

  He was here.

  She could hold on to his stupidly sharp jaw and stare into his yellow eyes and wish and hope and pray that their life was different.

  He told her about his homeland and it was right on the tip of Lore’s tongue to place them into that scene. She wanted to stand in that emerald grass and smile at him. She wanted to dream of him in a moonlight clearing while the silver light danced over the muscles of his arms and shoulders.

  “Oh good. You’re both here.”

  The words struck her over the skull as though someone had attacked her. The thoughts in her head, the ones about him and her and a future that was without mortals, were foolish. They were the dreams of a child who had yet to see what real life was.

  And she couldn’t wander down that path. Not easily, anyway. Not without losing her heart in the process.

  Lore wrenched herself from Abraxas’s grip and stared in shock down the dungeon hall. Beauty stood there, although not the Beauty she knew so well. The young woman was dressed as though she were going to war. That outfit was the exact one Lore had been looking for when they went to steal from the dragon’s hoard, but... That couldn’t be Beauty.

  She untangled her fingers from the dragon’s and slowly shoved herself upright. The process was long and arduous, though Lore refused to sit while she had this conversation with the young woman in front of her.

  “You don’t look like yourself,” Lore growled. “Why’s that?”

  At least Beauty winced. She knew how much trouble she was in. “Lorelei, please don’t get mad at me. It’s not like I wanted to deceive you.”

  It all came crashing down around her shoulders.

  Margaret. The rebellion. Beauty not being in the Great Hall when the arrows fell.

  “You work for her,” she mumbled. “You work for them.”

  “I do. I always have. But you have to listen to me. This was all to keep you alive. Margaret didn’t want to send you into the castle on your own, but if one of us was caught, then we couldn’t know...” Beauty ran her fingers through her hair and blew out a breath. “You couldn’t know I existed. Otherwise, everything might have fallen apart. Your mission was entirely more dangerous than mine, and you could be more easily found out.”

  Lore replied as though her tongue had swollen in her mouth. “Margaret knew I would fail.”

  “She didn’t know. She hoped this wouldn’t happen, but you aren’t the first, Lore. You couldn’t have imagined you would be the first they sent to kill the King. He knows the tricks, and all the old ways.” Beauty took a step forward, reaching out her hands as though she wanted to touch Lore, but then letting them fall back to her sides. “No one wanted to see you fail.”

  “But everyone would sacrifice me if I did.” The truth hurt worse than she thought it would. Of course, she knew the rebellion wouldn’t stop if she got caught. That was the entire plan the whole time.

  But she had thought—

  She had hoped—

  Lore straightened her spine and her shoulders. With a quick nod, she pushed herself back into the present. She had to let go of all that. No one had ever been there for her, not a single moment of her life. She could get through this as well.

  Except a hand snaked through the bars one more time, and broad fingers twined with hers. Surprised, she glanced over at Abraxas to see he had stiffened with her. Every inch of the dragon vibrated, as though he were ready to kill anyone she pointed him at. Anyone who dared to hurt her.

  “Maybe not everyone,” she whispered, still staring into those burning eyes.

  “Not everyone,” he repeated.

  This was troublesome. More than she had bargained for when she’d agreed to sell her soul to Margaret, but she supposed... Well. If she had more time to think about this development, she might not mind it. Not all that much, at least.

  Beauty sighed. “Lorelei, I can understand why you feel that way, but you know Margaret even better than I do. Do you think she didn’t have a plan in case you got caught?”

  “Of course she did. But you’re right, I do know her very well. Too well.” Lore wrenched her gaze away from Abraxas so she could look Beauty dead in the eye. “And I know her well enough to understand that she had hoped it would all go this way. She wanted me to fail.”

  “She gave you all the time she could.”

  “You believe that if you want to. But we both know it’s a lie.” Lore nodded though, at least relenting so Beauty could go on. “What is it, then? What magical idea did she come up with that would save my head from hitting the ground without my body attached to it?”

  Beauty hesitated, and that was the moment Lore knew she wouldn’t like this plan any more than the original. It would still put her in a lot more danger than she wanted to be in. She could still die.

  But she suppo
sed it was better than waiting for her death in the dungeon.

  “Out with it,” Lore said when Beauty still didn’t talk. “It can’t be all that bad.”

  “It’s not bad, it’s just...” Beauty hesitated again.

  “A mad one?” she supplied. “All Margaret’s plans end up that way. It’s impossible for her to think through a situation without making it worse. That’s the way of the elves, I suppose. Complicated plans that must be endured by all those who are sucked into their webs.”

  Beauty’s leather pocket wrinkled, and the pixie shoved her head out of it. With a slight squeak, the little woman illuminated the gray edges of the dungeon. She spun around in the air so quickly that she cast a light on all the prisoners, as though daylight had entered the room.

  And Lorelei stared at the prisoners, who raised their arms against the sudden brightness. They were all emaciated, broken, and bruised. Not a single one of them could fight for themselves.

  She knew what the pixie was trying to say. She knew how important it was that she at least try to help them, even though it felt like she was pulling herself apart to do so.

  Beauty cleared her throat, eyes darting between the figures while clearly trying her best to not outright stare at them. “Margaret thinks between the three of us, we might be able to catch the King off guard. He’s still considering me to be his bride, why I will never understand. But he won’t choose me. I’ll get close enough to steal the keys, and then I can pass those to Abraxas.”

  The man in question startled, as though he hadn’t been prepared to be a part of this.

  “You’ll let Lore out,” Beauty continued, nodding at the cell. “She will sneak past the Umbral Knights and you will then return to the field where he will announce his bride and Lore’s death. You’re the distraction, Abraxas. We need you to create some sort of scene that will keep the King busy long enough for Lore to get into position.”

  “I can do that.” His deep voice sent a shiver down Lore’s spine. “But I can’t do it for very long. The Knights have weapons that can pierce through my armored scales.”

  “Then Lore will have to be quick,” Beauty replied. “It’s up to you to kill him. If that’s a task you can finish.”

  She would like nothing more than to spill his blood. She wanted to see the red river fountain from his neck and soak into the earth of this land. It was almost as if Lore could feel that Umbra desired to devour the soul of the King. The very dirt itself wanted to feel his life force drain.

  “I can,” she replied.

  “In that state?” Beauty looked her up and down, then glared at Abraxas. “You were supposed to heal her.”

  He snarled, the deep sound rumbling in his chest. “I’m a dragon, little girl, not a healer. If she bled, I could stop that. But I cannot magically make her better.”

  “If I had access to the moon, I could do it myself,” Lore interrupted.

  They stared at her with matching shocked expressions. Though Abraxas snapped himself out of it first. “That’s right,” he muttered. “Silverfell elves were different.”

  “Not different.” She rolled her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. “We used what we were given.”

  She could feel him staring at her. As though Abraxas was trying to bore a hole through her head if she didn’t look at him. What did the dragon think he was doing? He knew she was a Silverfell elf. A rarity, it seemed, although she didn’t know why.

  Finally, she gave in and looked back at him. The heat in his eyes, the way a muscle ticked in his jaw, it was too much.

  “What?” she snapped. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Like he wanted to break anyone who dared touch her. She didn’t need that. She knew how to break a man with her fists and how to end a life with a blade. Abraxas didn’t need to help protect her, nor did he need to get involved.

  Though it was nice. The idea that someone wanted to help her.

  “The moon can help heal you?” he asked, his voice deep.

  “Yes.”

  He looked past her then, to the wall of stone that tunneled deep underneath the castle. Or so she thought.

  Abraxas nodded, as if that settled it, and then returned his attention to Beauty, who watched him with a rather stunned expression on her face. Even the pixie didn’t know what had just happened. Her glimmering light dimmed as her attention focused on what the dragon’s plan was.

  When no one talked, Abraxas nodded again. “I’ll make sure she heals, then. And I don’t need the key.”

  “But...” Beauty shook her head. “What are you talking about, dragon?”

  “You asked me to heal her, and I said I would. So I will.” He gently squeezed Lore’s fingers. “I’ll make sure she’s ready for the moment you need her to be. She’ll kill Zander.”

  His confidence in her burned right through any remaining discomfort or fear. He thought she could do this, and Lore knew without question that she could.

  She would walk through whatever fires remained in front of her. And then she would end this.

  All of it.

  Beauty watched the expressions play over her face before she let out a long breath. Apparently, she’d been holding it while waiting to hear what Lore would say. “Good, good. That makes everything so much easier. After Abraxas makes his distraction, get to the dais. We’ll give you the path of least resistance, but... this is our one chance, Lore.”

  “That’s fine. It ends here.” She could do this.

  “Then Margaret said you’re going to want this.” Beauty reached behind her and apparently there was a weapon pouch attached to that leather corset because she pulled out a wicked black blade.

  The waved metal had been hammered into textured strikes so as it sank into the flesh, it ripped and tore. Once pulled out of any wound, that knife would shred muscle, fat, even bone. It was a weapon made for nothing other than death.

  “A grimdag?” She shook her head and released Abraxas’s hand. Lore took a step away from that horrible blade. “I won’t take that.”

  “Margaret said you would know what to do with it.” Beauty seemed to understand that it was dangerous to touch that knife. She put it on the floor and kicked it over to the edge of the cell. “She also said you’d know what it meant.”

  Lore shook her head again. “I don’t want that. Give me another knife. Any other knife.”

  “What is a grimdag?” Abraxas asked.

  She didn’t want to say. She didn’t want them to know what horrible things the elves could make, like that terrible dagger lying on the floor.

  But she had to. They had to understand.

  She swallowed hard. “There were other elves, some that no longer live. A small group of them dug deep into the earth. They called themselves the Ashen Deep and made those blades. The grimdags are magical weapons. To kill with that is to bind a soul into the dagger for all eternity.” She lifted a shaking hand to her mouth. “It’s torture. Forever.”

  Abraxas knelt down and picked up the dagger. She didn’t know what thoughts could run through his head, but he didn’t hesitate. He held the blade out for her to take. Wordless.

  “Aren’t you afraid of what that knife can do?” she whispered, the words ragged and harsh.

  “I only fear what is in my own head,” he replied. Were the lines around his mouth formed from pity? “You have to do this, Lore. It would be an honor to rip him limb from limb for you. For what he has done. But you have earned the right to end this. All of it.”

  And wasn’t that so lovely that her feral dragon wanted to give her a gift of blood and pain? Because Abraxas must know what he offered. A chance to no longer fear the night and the shadows. To end the suffering in her memories of a king beating her within an inch of her life.

  She didn’t want to touch that cursed weapon, but she also knew that now was the only chance she’d get. Otherwise, Zander would haunt her every step.

  Her hands reached out, fingers shaking, and she closed her fingers on the blade’s hilt.<
br />
  Memories played through her thoughts. Of a dark skinned elf bent over an anvil, heavy hands holding a hammer that sewed a curse into the metal with every strike. She saw the faces of every person this knife had killed, mortals, men, women, even children. So many people.

  The weight of that responsibility weighed on her shoulders. And when she opened her eyes again, Beauty was gone. All that remained was a dragon in front of her, waiting for her to open her eyes again.

  Abraxas reached through the bars once more and wrapped his hand around hers. Around the blade. “I need you to live, Lorelei of Silverfell.”

  Her true name danced through her. A lick of power followed, as though him using the term gave her energy like the moon.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Lady of Starlight,” he murmured, then stepped so close she could count the gold flecks in his eyes. “My fire heart. Live for me, and I will lay a kingdom at your feet.”

  Before she could say anything else, he disappeared. Racing from the dungeon without a second glance.

  A kingdom? She didn’t want a kingdom.

  But as she stared at the dagger in her shaking hand, she wondered if that’s what she was fighting for.

  Chapter 33

  Abraxas

  His entire body felt... wrong. Abraxas stared down at his hands while he sat on the edge of his cliff. The melted gold waited far below him. He already knew what to do. He’d dug a tunnel down to Lore’s cell and broke through the wall. She’d escape that way when she had to, and hopefully had healed enough to climb that precarious tunnel.

  Now he had to wait.

  The King would announce his bride. Lore would kill the King. Everything would be fine.

  Except... it wasn’t.

  One glaring problem remained at the base of his melted gold mountain. A problem he could now see poking through the edges of the far corner. The wooden box containing the eggs would remain there for a very long time now. He didn’t know when or how he would find someone to open it.