Forged from the Ashes (Wings of War Book 1)

by J. Kearston

  Soren sees what I’m doing and shuts up Yri before he can speak. Every sixty taps, I put up a finger on my left hand, then back down again. When I lift another solitary finger, Yri moves to the door, reaching his arm through the bars and getting ready. When I raise the second, he shoves it open and we race out, seeing the hallway abandoned. I start the timer again, counting down how long we have to make it. I can’t lose track, can’t fuck this up. How the Fates were even able to intervene enough to give us this chance, I’ll never know. If we make it through this, I’ll never question them again, will build them a damn alter if they want.

  Ten seconds left.

  I let Soren and Yri count the doors, because I can only keep track of so many numbers at once. Yri grabs my arm when I almost pass it, while Soren turns the handle, pushing open the steel door as I try to prepare myself for the picture Saige painted in my mind.

  But when the door opens, it’s clear no amount of mental preparation could have hardened my heart against this. There’s a guard in the room, loosening the metal shackles binding her wrists to the chair. Her head is slumped to the side, and she looks pale, so goddamn pale. Even her lips are the faintest pink, chapped, and her chest isn’t moving.

  I’m glad I purged my system when I first saw Saige, let her rip those wounds open, because otherwise there would be no way I could have schooled my reaction before the guard notices us. I keep my face a blank mask despite the flashbacks threatening to cripple me, despite seeing the woman I love appear as nothing more than a corpse in front of me.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  “First in the lineup, yeah?” he asks, the words muddled from the ringing in my ears.

  Soren saves us from giving away our shock and horror. “Need to start somewhere.”

  He wipes off his hands and sneers down at her, gesturing with one hand. “Better you than me; already had two showers today. Hard to get the stink off you from the pit. Bitch is all yours.”

  I don’t think I’ve ever seen a male dragon look at a female the way this pathetic excuse of a man is at Ezra. He looks at her as if she’s lower than the dirt on his shoes, a burden. Something to be used and discarded, nothing more.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  Yri moves forward and hoists her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, one hand on her thigh to keep her in place and walks out of the room without a single word.

  “That one doesn’t say much, does he?” the stranger says, closing the lid on an insulated cooler on the counter behind the chair.

  I know Soren is thinking the same thing I am when neither of us follows Yri immediately. Saige’s words about getting their hands on Ezra’s blood, using it to experiment on the humans. But also not to show a reaction, and killing this man to steal the cooler would definitely fall under ‘having a reaction’. We’re caught in another impossible situation that no one could have prepared us for, knowing that no matter what choice we make, someone will get hurt.

  But it has to end somewhere. And I know Ezra would agree it’s worth the risk, because if she found out we left countless human women to suffer the fate Saige described, she’d kill us herself. I’m a blur, standing behind the man before he even turns his back to see me coming. His blind trust is his undoing and I snap his neck. It’s harder than I remember, and my days of sickness and starvation don’t make it any easier. But I have something to motivate me, something to fight for that gives me that extra boost to manage it.

  I will be brutal to protect her, even if it haunts me.

  Letting him fall into a heap while Soren’s massive frame blocks the door, I open the cooler, rip open the blood bags, and pour them down the drain. We leave without a word, but Soren claps a hand to my shoulder as I pass by him, offering his approval.

  We walk quickly, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves. The hallways are still empty and we never open another door, knowing each must contain its own horror. But we can’t save everyone when we can barely even save ourselves. I wasn’t lying though; I will find a way to come back and save Saige somehow, need to repay her for saving my flight.

  Yri’s face is stony and I see him tapping on Ezra’s thigh, knowing he would have started the clock as soon as he got here. We only have to wait another five seconds before stepping into the main room, and I try to keep my expression on lock down, to not look at anything for long. Up until now, we haven’t seen another person. Here? There are dozens of men, so we act like we belong, trusting the human knows what she’s doing.

  We emerged from the tunnel into a humongous cave, making it clear we’re inside the mountain. The room is massive; I doubt I could even throw a stone and hit the other side. The path we’re on wraps the circumference of the room, a metal walkway hovering fifty feet above a pit. Beneath us are dozens of women, human if I had to guess, corralled like cattle.

  My eyes fall on the path that leads above us in a slow slope, carved from the stone of the mountain. There’s a steel door at the top ledge, and as promised, there’s no one manning it. We take our first steps, keeping our eyes straight ahead.

  Based on the reaction the man collecting her blood had, people must assume we haul out the dead. It’s a perfect cover; gives us an excuse to be covered in blood and filth, to come and go like janitors. Like Saige and I discovered a decade ago, people overlook low tier workers.

  “Dimitri drained another one, did he?” a burly man laughs, stepping out from another tunnel and falling into step with our group.

  He reaches over and lifts her head by her hair to see her face and I fight against the blind rage that wants me to lash out. But I need to keep a level head, need to not show them any reaction. Survival is more important than honor right now.

  “Shame,” he continues despite our lack of response. “I wanted a go at this one; she looked like she’d put up a good fight.” He drops her head and continues walking. I grab Soren’s wrist and dig my nails into his skin, trying to convey to not react since his jaw is clenched so tightly.

  She’s in the same clothes she came here in. That has to be a good sign, right? They didn’t touch her, she’s okay, and we’re going to get out of here.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  It helps, the steady rhythm to keep my thoughts from spiraling out of control. No freaking out, no getting worked up. Saige sacrificed herself so that we could escape and we can’t make it be for nothing, we’ll never get another chance if we fail.

  When I speak, my voice comes out sure and steady. “You and me both, but what ‘ya going to do?” I shrug, nonchalant.

  He snorts. “He’s not usually so careless with the dragon bitches, likes to keep them alive for months to drain ‘em.” He scrunches up his forehead and looks at Ezra’s unconscious form again. “Didn’t we just get this one in about a week ago? He’s never that careless.”

  Soren tries to salvage the situation. “That’s above our pay grade. We just haul ‘em out when you’re through.”

  The man nods, accepting as much, before looking between Soren and I. “It takes three men to haul a corpse these days?”

  “Just following him out; supply run.”

  I’m just pulling lies out of my ass now, hoping he’ll accept it and leave. We’ve reached the base of the slope now, and start our ascent, but he doesn’t back off.

  “Since when do they send grave diggers on supply runs?’ He narrows his eyes, suspicion taking root.

  “Just following orders,” Soren snorts, rolling his eyes. “If you’d rather go, be my guest; we have plenty of other shit to do already.”

  Finally, he backs off, but I can tell he doesn’t completely buy into it, knows something’s off. He tosses a few looks over his shoulder at us as we continue to climb the slope, but he starts walking away. There’s a shout as someone emerges into the main room from the tunnel we took to get here, and we start walking faster; it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out they must have found Dimitri’s body.

  “Go!” I hiss, and we drop all pretense, bolting up the ramp towards the door
.

  I hear the shouts behind us and a bullet catches me in the shoulder. I nearly cry out in relief that it’s an actual bullet and not another of those damn tranquilizers or whatever other horrific things they create here. Soren shoves past the door and we slam it shut behind us, checking around for anything we could use to bar the door.

  There’s some more shouting and a bark of orders as we see the couple of men posted on guard out here. Despite my shoulder, adrenaline floods my system. Ren and I are a flurry of motion as we take them down while Yri braces himself against the door, Ezra on the ground beside him.

  Soren is already digging in one of the men’s pockets, pulling out a set of keys and jogging over to one of the two trucks parked nearby. We never saw a single set of tracks on our journey up here, so there must be another path down the other half of the mountain they use to haul people and things in and out. With as much equipment that’s down there, I have no illusions this is the only entrance. Chances are there are dozens throughout the mountain and that’s how they were able to sneak up on us so easily.

  Soren rams the jeep into the door as Yri scoops up Ezra and jumps out of the way. It will buy us a little time, but not much. And we don’t even have any clue where any other entrances are, how many there might be, or the number of men inside that hellhole.

  “Up or down?” Yri barks, looking as torn as the rest of us.

  We are so fucking close, but there’s still a hell of a climb to the top of the mountain. With Ezra being dead weight and the three of us worse for wear, I’m not sure how quickly we could make it. But if we did, we could shift and fight or fly out of here before they could stop us.

  “Down,” Soren decides for us, face tight. “We don’t know what the ritual entails, but she isn’t in any condition for whatever it may be. And if they took over the mountain, you can bet your ass they got to the sanctuary already. It’s probably destroyed and they’ll be waiting there for us, assuming we’ll run there.”

  I curse, resigned, but knowing he’s right. We strip the two guards of their guns and break into a run, pushing ourselves as hard as we can. Yri passes off Ezra to Soren for a while, but we barely slow, not wanting to waste any time. They could be two steps behind us, could find us at any minute. We can’t rest or we’ll be dead for sure.

  Now all we can do is take our mate and run, and unless we can figure out a plan, we’ll never be able to stop.

  Chapter 20

  Ezra

  My body sways and my head is screaming, but I don’t twitch a muscle. I learned quickly that I’m better off feigning being asleep until I can gather as much information as possible. The air doesn’t taste stale, so I must not be underground. I’m obviously being carried, so that’s a good sign; at least I’m not strapped down anymore.

  The feeling of going upstairs before a door shuts and then I’m being set down on a soft bed. Despite the way my head is splitting in half, I’m not going to be able to wait any longer. I need to capitalize on my advantages before anything happens. They must have moved me to a separate location and I need to get the guys before they decide to kill them now that I gave them what they wanted.

  My eyes fly open, but it’s dark and my vision hasn’t adjusted yet. I roll off the edge of the bed and land in a crouch, launching myself at the shadowed figure with a snarl.

  Kill him, escape, find the guys, escape again. Four challenges; I’ve faced worse.

  But I overestimated my determination. I feel so weak, can barely stand, and my head is swimming. I’m disoriented and dizzy, but I force my sluggish limbs to respond by threat of death. I have to manage this, or it will all be for nothing.

  Stupid fucking cursed vagina. Why couldn’t I be born with a dick instead? But no, I have two targets painted on my chest that alter the entire course of my existence.

  I swing a fist, knowing I can’t manage a good kick without losing my balance right now. I feel the contact, but know it lacks the usual force behind it. I hear cursing, stumbling across the room towards the door that won’t quit wavering in my vision.

  The door opens of its own accord and instinct takes over. Bringing a flame to my hand, I bitchslap the figure before shoving past into a hallway.

  “Son of a bitch; that fuckin’ hurt!” a familiar voice exclaims and I pause, narrowing my eyes and swaying.

  “Yri?”

  He doesn’t take a step closer, just holds one hand to his face and the other up with his fingers splayed to show he’s unarmed. “Yeah, angel, it’s me. You’re safe now, we’ve got you.” His voice is low and soothing, but I still don’t step closer to him.

  I hold my palm out, bringing another flame to it nervously. When it appears, I nearly sob, so fucking relieved. No matter what they did to me this time, I have my abilities back. I’m not defenseless anymore.

  At this point, Cai’s come to stand beside him, so he must’ve been the one laying me in the bed. I have a killer headache and am still woozy, but even in my addled state I can put a few things together; I just need help with the rest.

  “Where are we? Where’s Ren? Is he,” I swallow, terrified to know the answer. They only showed me the antidote on Cai. I saw them give it to the other two, but it was in Soren’s system far longer than anyone’s. “Did it work?”

  Yri risks a slow step closer, approaching me like I’m a feral animal. “Ren’s here, angel. We’re in a house about halfway home.”

  My legs start to give out, but I catch myself on the wall. I’ve never been a damsel in distress in my life and this whole situation pisses me off like there’s no tomorrow. I’m not about to make it worse by collapsing at their feet after they somehow broke us out of that hell and dragged my ass fifty miles.

  I slide to the floor and rest my back against the wall, closing my eyes until the room stops spinning. Yri and Cai never come closer, and I appreciate it. As much as I want to lean on their comfort, I need a minute. Too many blows over the last week and they just haven’t stopped coming, but at least Soren’s death isn’t one of them.

  “Well, Cai, I think that squares us away.”

  “What’re you talking about?” he asks in honest confusion.

  “That favor you owe me for beating you in the last Gauntlet. I think this makes us good.”

  He half chuckles, more breath than anything, and slowly slides to rest against the wall across from me. He maintains a cautious distance, not brushing against my legs.

  “If those are the type of favors you ask for, remind me never to bet against you again,” he jokes, but it sounds strained.

  As my brain plays catch up, I cringe. “How’s your face, Yri?”

  He doesn’t say anything at first, and I worry I actually did some serious damage or he’s upset at me lashing out when they went through who knows what to save us, but he just steps closer before sitting beside me. He slowly and nervously takes my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. It doesn’t feel like he’s offering me support, instead like he’s desperately seeking it for himself.

  “I’m so sorry,” he croaks, sounding like he’s fighting tears.

  It freaks me out more than anything, because I really don’t know how to handle something like this. Poisoned mates, abduction, some blood harvesting; sucks, but I can fight through the pain. But Yri is the one I can always count on not to make things awkward, to make me laugh. Yet here he is, sounding broken in a way I’m not prepared for, and needing something I don’t know how to give.

  “You don’t have anything to apologize for. It’s not like we knew the sanctuary was on top of Mt. Doom and full of sadists. They’re like those damn trap door spiders.” I shudder, but he doesn’t buy into my teasing.

  “We couldn’t protect you,” he continues anyway. “You picked us to be your mates and we let you down, almost got you killed and, and,” he breaks off and I take a stab at where his mind’s at, what he’s worried happened.

  “Hoard level two still remains locked; access denied.” I squeeze his hand in comfort, hoping he gets it becau
se I really don’t want to voice the words, don’t want to tell them about the close call before some human girl distracted the skeevy guard. “And you three went and stole all the credit for what would no doubt have been an impressive rescue on my end,” I prattle on, but he cuts me off.

  “Ezra. Just...just for a few minutes, don’t hide behind sarcasm and quips, okay? You don’t need to talk about anything that happened in there, but I wish you would. And we’ll get you home safe even if it means you’d rather not go through with the ritual anymore,” he whispers brokenly.

  “Where’s Ren?”

  I open my eyes, the room finally staying in one place. My eyes have adjusted to the low lighting and I’m able to see better, gently turning Yri's face so I can inspect how much damage I did. I’m both relieved and disappointed in myself that it doesn’t look any worse than a hand shaped sunburn. I’m just going to chalk it up to some part of me recognizing it was him and holding back instead of losing my touch.

  “On guard rotation,” Cai explains, keeping his distance. “He’s beating himself up the worst thinking it’s his fault that the whole chain of events started.”

  My heart breaks for him. Soren takes his position and honor more seriously than the others, and I hate him thinking any of this could remotely be his fault. I try to pull my anger to the surface, because wallowing won’t serve any purpose beyond making us feel worse.

  “Can you get him real quick? So I can talk to all of you?”

  Yri stiffens beside me, but when he tries to pull his hand free, I just curl my fingers even tighter. I may not want to talk about everything that happened, but if it makes him feel better, I will. People always talked about me picking my mates, trying to prove their worth, but no one taught me what it actually meant.

  No one explained how I’d need to be there for them just as much, that sometimes they might need more from me than I do from them. I’m used to being self-reliant and never felt like I really needed mates for anything more than companionship, sex, and because it was expected. I spent all this time assuming men were only interested in me for the power boost, but aren’t I guilty of doing that exact same thing? I had more of a guarantee that I’d be able to shift than anyone, and now it’s slipped through my fingers. They need more than I know how to give, but for them, I’m willing to try; even if it makes me uncomfortable.