by Leela Ash
“What? No! That’s not true!”
The Fury dissolved into a shroud of feathers and whispers. Once more, a whirlwind writhed in the clearing, deaf to her pleas.
Shaken, confused, Dakota turned to Tess. “I don’t understand what she means.”
Pale but calm, the Adanai studied her. “Do you blame them?”
“No!”
“Look at Owen and tell me you don’t think he’s responsible for your sister’s death.”
Owen Jackson. The Dragon who’d tried to shield her when Megaera burst into this world. The father of three children.
Would he kill Cally over a fourth?
No. She remembered his carefree smile and sparkling eyes, now dull and drained from Megaera’s attack. That wasn’t the face of a killer. The Fangs – the people who tricked her into betraying the First Flight – were the villains here.
She believed, with all her heart, that Owen Jackson was innocent.
But…
That quiet, treacherous thought shocked her. ‘But’ what? Not one shred of evidence condemned him.
But…
But she wanted him to be guilty. Longed for it, desperately.
“I think I understand. I want him to be guilty because if he didn’t kill Cally, I did.”
Her confession only made Tess groan. “I am so not understanding this. Girl, did you actually murder your sister?”
“I didn’t put a gun to her head, no. But if I’d taken care of her, if I’d been there for her, she wouldn’t have OD’d in some alley.”
“Maybe. She was the one who decided to use. That’s on her.”
Michael had said almost the same thing. Yet Dakota’s heart balked at that excuse.
“Trust me,” Tess said. “I’ve made a shitload of bad decisions in my life. They all come back to me. Maybe somebody could have saved me from myself – but the blame is still all mine.”
Plain, sensible words. So why did they enrage her?
Because Cally’s death hurt. It still hurts. And I want someone to hurt for that.
Even if that ‘someone’ was her? Or four innocent Dragons?
Dakota stared at the cyclone towering over her. The swirling mass of unyielding anger.
Yes. Because I am Megaera. I’m her little mortal twin.
From the depths of that black cloud, demented eyes sparkled with glee.
We’re sisters, this thing and I. Deep in my heart, I know: vengeance is what matters most.
As despair crept close, though, a memory intruded.
Michael. The feel of his arms around her, protecting her. The joy of waking up beside him.
Love.
Didn’t love matter more than vengeance?
Megaera, that toxic stew of hatred, had no place for love. Could her ‘twin’ ever truly love Michael? Or would that sick rage undermine everything they built together? How could she embrace the future, how could she be a mother and a wife, if the past consumed her?
Two paths stretched before her. One led to Michael and joy. Another, covered with blood and pain, wound its way back to that dank alley where her sister died.
Dakota chose the first one.
“Megaera! A petitioner comes before you!” No doubt or hesitation shook her voice this time.
“Petitioner, I know you. And your hands are not empty.”
“I withdraw my claim against these men. They are innocent.”
Silence. Dakota tested her heart – and this time, it held no doubts. So why hadn’t the Fury…?
An ear-shattering scream of rage filled the glade, echoing across the land. Louder it grew, sending bolts of pain tearing through Dakota’s mind. Her own scream joined it. Behind her Tess, too, collapsed, wailing. Pressure built, her eyes bulged…
And then it died, cut off abruptly. The cloud of feathers and darkness exploded skyward, melting away in the morning sun.
Leaving nothing behind except a ring of frost upon the ground.
Gasps and groans made her turn. Dazed, the four Dragons staggered and fought to get their bearings.
Brandon Lorde’s eyes couldn’t quite focus. “Annie? What…?”
“Dakota. Long story.”
A distant explosion made everyone whirl. “The Fangs have attacked the Stiles’ farm!” Dakota cried. “You’ve got to help Michael and Jamie!”
The Alpha’s piercing gaze swept over his Flight. “Morland, Jackson. Flank them from the east and west. Donnelly...”
A gust of wind staggered them all, as a white Dragon shot into the air.
Lorde sighed. “It appears Donnelly will fly straight at them.”
Dakota’s eyes twinkled. Michael would be pleased to know he wasn’t the only one who found it difficult to herd Dragons.
“Forget it. There’s six of us,” the Alpha grumbled. “Just go.”
Black, green and gold, they launched themselves skyward.
Dakota pitied the people about to face their wrath.
Chapter 15
Six hours after the battle, Dakota sat on the porch of the Stiles’ Farm, dazed by their success. Michael, winded and beat up, lounged beside her.
Thirty Fangs died (or so Michael told her; she hadn’t arrived until the bodies were taken away). Mariset and Alester escaped, slinking off amid the chaos and abandoning their followers to die.
And the Dragons? Mostly bruises and a few broken bones. Dragon scales, they told her, were the best bullet-proof vests in the world. Bullets didn’t pierce you (usually…). Yet the impact still hurt. Michael’s gorgeous, sculpted chest was black and blue from hips to shoulder. Owen sported a broken nose, a fact that upset him greatly. If Brandon Lorde was injured, he gave no sign. Only Darian had been seriously hurt, when a bullet pierced the smaller scales at a joint. Dakota wanted to rush him to a hospital. Instead, Finn carried him out to the Wellspring. Magic, not medicine, was the best cure for a wounded Dragon, they assured her.
All in all, it was a resounding victory. So why was their Alpha so upset?
Brandon Lorde scanned the farmyard. Every blood stain, scorch mark, and bullet-hole held his glance. An uncharacteristic doubt clouded his stern, proud face.
“My Mate is going to kill me,” he muttered.
“Eh, it’s not so bad.” Finn clapped him on the back. “Bit of a mess. A few things knocked down. Only big problem is that part of the barn roof caved in when some fat-ass,” he glowered at Owen, “sat on it.”
“How was I supposed to know barns are that fragile?” The smaller Dragon scowled. “I don’t have a lot of barn experience.”
“Well, I thought you’d still… Uh, hey.” Finn squinted at Owen’s face. “Did you screw around with your nose again, Jackson?”
Alarm lit the other man’s eyes. “Why? Is it crooked again?”
Dakota couldn’t see anything wrong with it, but Finn nodded grimly. “I wouldn’t get near the Wellspring if I were you. Don’t want it to heal like that.”
“Really?” Owen prodded it gently and winced. “Is it bad?”
“Completely upside down. Your pretty face is ruined.”
“How could it be… Jerk!” He swatted at the big man as the rest of the Flight burst into laughter.
Walker came trotting out of the woods, a chicken tucked under either arm. “Found two more! Don’t worry, I’ll git all these sneaky bastards!” Still chuckling, Finn bounded over to give him a hand with his struggling burdens.
It was like a loud, raucous family gathering – with a body count.
Though he still fussed with the bandage on his nose, Owen turned and knelt at the base of the steps below her and Michael. A strangely solemn, almost submissive pose.
“So, hey, I’ve been told I may have wronged you. Would you tell me about that? I’ll make amends if I could. I mean that, sincerely.” After that one flash of seriousness, a mischievous glint crept back into his eyes. “I’m totally not saying this because my Flight will tear me to shreds if I don’t fix things.”
Time for the truth. Stomach flutterin
g, Dakota took a deep breath. “Did you know a girl named Cally Vance?”
After a few moments of thought, he shook his head.
“Cally was my sister.” She pulled a picture out of her wallet and handed it to him. “This is her, a few months before she died.”
He considered it, still frowning, and her heart sank – until the slender Dragon’s eyes widened. “Hey. Did she live in Los Angeles?”
“Yes!”
He knew her? Once that confession would have filled Dakota with rage. Not now, not when she knew the First Flight. No Dragon would ever murder an innocent girl.
“I saw her once,” Owen admitted, “at a club. She leaped on my table, stark naked except for a few glow sticks around her wrists and ankles. Then she danced. She was beautiful. Maybe I was stoned out of my mind, but I thought she was the most exquisite thing I’d ever seen. I still remember her, two years later.”
Cally, dancing naked at parties? Dakota winced. “Did she go home with you?”
“No. She said her name was Molly. I tried to get her to have a drink with me, but she was too strung out. Couldn’t sit still. She drifted back to the dance floor and I never saw her again. I’m sorry.”
Molly. Another name for the drug ‘ecstasy.’ “I guess Cally really was just a junkie then.”
Michael’s arm slipped around her shoulders, wrapping her in the warmth of his body. “She was your sister, not ‘just’ a junkie.”
“But no one murdered her…”
“We don’t know that.”
“Hey!” Owen tapped her foot. “I know… er, I knew some drug dealers down in LA. Farrell and I could ‘talk’ to them. See if we can figure out what really happened.”
A lead like that should have driven her wild and sent her flying down to LA herself. Now it only raised a sad, melancholy hope. “Please. But do it later, after this mess is cleaned up. The living matter more than the dead.”
“Sounds like a plan.” With a wince, Owen rose to his feet and retreated.
Safe in Michael’s arms, Dakota sighed, caught between relief, delight, and nerves.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“I should be asking you that! You’re the one who got shot.”
Michael chuckled. “You have no idea how tough a Dragon’s scales are.”
Finn and Walker propped up the remains of the coop and dumped their squawking birds inside. As they headed out to search for more, the pair side-stepped a patch of blood. Dakota shivered.
Doubt softened Michael’s voice as he stared after them. “This is life with a Flight of Dragons. Are you sure it’s what you want?”
She felt his muscled arms around her, a fortress against everything that sought to harm her. The feel of him, the musky, male scent of his body, told her everything she needed to know.
“I’m a Dragon’s Mate. I’ll get used to it.”
“You mean that?” He searched her face for any signs of doubt – and found none.
“Yeah. I’m here to stay.”
“So…,” he cleared his throat. “Should we think about a marriage? And a proper proposal and ring,” he added quickly as a faint blush reddened his cheeks.
“We should. Not now, though. Later.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She laid her head on his shoulder. “You’re here. That’s all that matters. Once things calm down we can celebrate properly. Now, I just want you.”
As they sat, wrapped in their own joy, a still-dazed Brandon Lorde joined them on the steps. “You’re to be commended, Farrell. You saved the entire Flight.”
A week ago, Michael would have seen his Alpha’s praise as a sign of weakness. An opportunity to challenge him and scramble another inch up the Flight’s hierarchy.
Not today. Dakota’s heart swelled with pride as he shared the credit. “Tess, Dakota, and Walker did most of the hard work. Wolfe and I were just distractions.”
“Still, you were their leader. It was your plan.”
With a rueful smile, Michael shook his head. “My plan got shot down in flames. This was more of a cooperative effort.”
Dakota poked him in the ribs. “Listening to teammates doesn’t make you a bad leader.”
“Indeed,” Lorde agreed. “It makes you a good one.”
“Well, thank you. I’m still glad that you have to organize the cleanup, not me.”
That admission earned him a shocked glance from his Alpha. Dakota guessed it had been a long time since Michael complimented Lorde. Maybe he never had.
For a time, the three of them watched the chaos. Walker, doggedly recovering every lost hen. Finn, struggling to shore up the tilting chicken coop. The Bears arrived and fanned out across the yard like a swarm of angry bees repairing their hive.
When Lorde finally spoke, it was in a soft murmur – so different from his normal imperious tone. “We have a dire challenge facing us. And I blame myself. We’ve been sleeping while the Fangs built their power.”
Again, her Mate didn’t rise to the bait and raise a challenge. “That’s not true. We’ve located a dozen Wellsprings now. Each one has a Dragon or a group of Shifters guarding it.”
“And each one makes the Fangs stronger. I see that now.”
Both Dakota and Michael stared at him in shock.
“When the first Wellspring awoke, all I saw was wonder. Magic returned and flourished. Once again, Dragons guarded the sacred places of this world. We knew our true purpose in life. Wellsprings brought Mates and the Rite of Claiming back. Dragons became whole again; we found the missing halves of our souls.”
Michael’s hug brought a smile to her face. Sounded pretty awesome to her, too.
Yet Lorde’s frown never weakened. “What I didn’t see was the danger. Magic existed for centuries before the Adanai closed the doors between this world and the Other Side. It fed dark creatures like Megaera. People crafted tools to use it. And some of those tools were weapons.”
“Like the curse tablet,” Dakota murmured.
“Exactly. Or the Apophis charm that the Fangs used against Wolfe.” Disgust flashed in the Alpha’s eyes. “For decades my Flight was scattered. While I did nothing, while I allowed my Dragons to wallow in shallow amusements, the Fangs plotted. They gathered those ancient tools, those weapons, and waited for the day when the Wellsprings returned.”
“You didn’t know this would happen,” Michael protested. “No one could foresee this.”
“The Fangs did. Now, battle looms. Our enemies are prepared and armed with weapons we don’t even understand. While we…” he sighed and shook his head. “We have nothing.”
Michael burst out laughing. “Nothing? You’re joking, right? Look around you!”
Dakota surveyed the bullet-ridden farmyard and had to admit that, at the moment, she didn’t understand his point. The doubt on Lorde’s face mirrored her own.
But her lover threw his arms wide, embracing the whole scattered, delirious mess. “We’ve got Mates. For the first time in centuries, we Dragons are whole. We’ve got Tess, the daughter of Adanai royalty. We’ve got Rats – who’re good for a hell of a lot more than chicken wrangling. We can call on so many Shifters.”
Lorde remained unmoved by his passionate speech. “Will they answer, though?”
“Sure. If we ask for their help instead of demanding it.” Dakota beamed up at him and he stroked her cheek. “My short time as Alpha taught me a lot. Everyone has value, no matter how ‘weak’ they seem. You just need to find it. Order people about and they flee you. Listen to them, include them, and they’ll join your cause.”
Michael gazed about. At Finn and Walker arguing over the coop. At the Bears flooding everywhere.
And at her, Dakota. His Mate.
“We have everything we need to defeat the Fangs.”
Now the glow of his fervor warmed the Alpha, summoning a pale light into his eyes. “You speak the truth. But we have a lot of work ahead of us.”
“Then let’s get started,” Michael urged, with an
infectious grin.
Beaming with pride, Dakota rose to her feet. “I don’t know anything about barn roofs, but I’ll sweep the broken glass out of the kitchen.”
Happy and at peace for the first time since Cally died, she stepped into her new life. With her Mate at her side.
The End
A Dragon’s Bachelorette
Dragon Dreams Epilogue
A Wellspring Chronicles Tale
Leela Ash
Tabitha St. George
Copyright ©2018 by Leela Ash. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic of mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Chapter 1
Even at midnight, New York City hummed with life. High above, in the rooftop garden of their Central Park penthouse, Dakota Vance stared down at the tumult. Taxis whizzing past, horns blaring. Shouts and laughter drifted up through the night air. In the distance, the headlights of cars blurred together, creating a river of light that flowed into the city.
It was beautiful… enchanting…
And, uh, distracting.
Once more, she noticed the weight of the phone in her pocket. That was the real secret to New York’s charm tonight; it made her forget her duties. The call she had to make.
Midnight here. Nine PM on the West Coast. It’s now or never…
Numb fingers dialed a Seattle number she knew by heart – despite the fact that she rarely called it. One ring, two. Her cowardly heart dared to hope it would bounce to voicemail. Then a painfully familiar voice answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Dakota?”
Why was that a question? There were only two Vance kids, her and her sister Cally, who’d died of an overdose.
“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry I haven’t called in a while.”
“Oh, that’s fine, darling.” The sound grew muffled, as if someone placed a hand over the receiver, and her mother muttered, “It’s Dakota.”
