22. Drake

TWENTY-TWO

DRAKE

T he king wandered onto the battlefield just as the first cannon was fired. He ducked, pulling Sorcha beneath him to shield her from the crumbling dust that rained over their heads. They broke into a sprint, half crouching, and found safety behind a barricade midway through the hillside.

"We have to get to your cousin," Drake said, his arm wrapped around Sorcha's shoulders. "I can shift and fly out to him, but he will likely take it as a direct attack."

Sorcha's eyes were a rich, brilliant blue. She peeked briefly over the barricade, and another cannon ball soared over her head. The king pulled her down once more until she was leaning up against the blockade.

"Let me try something," she yelled over the screams of peril and exploding weaponry.

"Anything," Drake shouted back.

Sorcha took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She wasn't a sorceress precisely, but she had abilities that exceeded that of an average dragon. Drake held his breath as she chanted aloud.

"Audite me, sanguis meus, frater. Aperi fores mentis tuae, et audi!"

The violence continued. Drake could hear some of his army having shifted, battling in the air with the enemy while those ordered to protect the palace held their ground and manned the cannons.

He peered out into what had turned into a mist-soaked moor. Rubies of blood painted the fields a horrifying cardinal red, streaming in small moats that splashed up as his troops stamped through them.

His heart hummed like a buzzing pest. He looked to Sorcha, desperation clouding his thoughts.

"Sorcha, we can't…"

"I got him," she mused, a smile tickling her lips. "He can hear me. Hold on, My King."

A few seconds later, all sound was muzzled into an eerie silence. The gentle tinkling of mist along the king's armor and the drumming of his hot blood became bizarrely blaring.

"He will speak to us. Let's go."

The king stood cautiously. All fighting had ceased. The dead lay mute as the injured gasped for breath. Both Sorcha and Drake shifted quickly and soared into the rainy sky.

They landed at the crest of the hill as the shroud of clouds began to part. Waiting for them was Lucien in his rusted and old armor. The king shifted, holding his arm out to protect Sorcha from any potential retaliation.

But Lucien already appeared defeated. "Have your words, will you?"

Sorcha pushed the king's arm out of her way gently and approached Lucien. Small drops of blood were spattered on his fatigued face as if flicked there by a paintbrush.

"My cousin, you must hear me out. You have to halt this onslaught. We have all been disastrously fooled."

Lucien eyed Drake, his left eye shining with the whispers of a bruise. He was gritting his teeth, and the king stood firm, prepared to shift and fight for the sake of his people.

"Give me your words then!" he shrieked at Sorcha. "Do not make me command you again!"

Sorcha held her hands out, palms facing the plum and lavender sky. Her voice was merciful and tender.

"Lucien, Pyralis has been using you and the king to his own evil end. He wanted the Creation Sorceress for himself. He weaved lies to the king to imprison me. You are shedding blood for nothing, good cousin. Cease now, and retain your honor."

Lucien's expression softened. His arms fell to his sides like a doll's as he let out a weary sigh.

"Pyralis…" he muttered.

The king stepped forward. Lucien remained still, his eyes dazed.

"Lucien, let us put a stop to this nonsense, once and for all. Let us broker peace so you can live on with the family and comrades you have left. Let neither of us suffer anymore."

Lucien spoke into the mist, and as he did, it began to rain again. Pellets fell like dewy diamonds on the king's feet.

"I attempted to concede, but I was convinced by that smug son of a bitch to continue once I heard of your capture." He gazed at Sorcha, dejected. "I am tired of death. I am tired of the violence."

"I assure you that once you stop, peace can be brokered," the king said. "Trust your cousin. Hear us now, and let it go."

Relief washed over Lucien's face as the rain hammered heavily once more. Drake felt his torment and regret.

Rainwater slipped down Lucien's lips as he lowered to one knee, squelching into the wet grass. He bowed his head and dropped his sword and shield.

"I yield to you, great King," he murmured.

Before Drake had a chance to forgive him his folly, something thundered through the air. Lightning shimmered as a familiar dragon glided up from the lower portion of the castle.

The king's heart hardened as the beast rocketed into the ominous skies.

It was Pyralis. And he had Thalia in his claws. She was screaming, and it echoed into the chambers of his sore, aching soul.

Drake ran and shifted as he leaped up into the sky, bursting out of his human skin like a thin suit. He jolted upward, trailing behind Pyralis, and narrowed his body into a slim length. He sailed through the damp air, his scales cutting through the plummeting rainfall like a sharpened blade.

Thalia was howling and attempting to pry herself from Pyralis's grip. He admired her even more, watching her fight for her life, and his chest began to feel hollow.

They slashed through the clouds. Thalia saw him, though, he couldn't quite see her. He could feel her.

"Drake!" she bellowed through the atmosphere.

Pyralis flapped his wings and took a short glance over his shoulder, releasing an insipid growl toward Drake.

Pyralis's tail flapped in front of him like a string. Drake snapped at it, vigilant to not knock his beloved out of his talons from such a height. He spotted her attempting to bite through the leather shield of his scales and implored her in his mind.

Thalia, stop! You won't survive the fall.

She stopped as Drake caught a fraction of Pyralis's tail between his teeth. She clung to the talons tightly as her captor screeched and spun around with the elegance of a dancer.

Drake couldn't send him tumbling to the earth as he did Zendel. So he fought him in the air, nearly breaking through the airless ceiling of the azure.

Pyralis snapped at him viciously, and the king easily dodged his wide jaws. Drake slashed, hitting him in time with rumbling thunder. The slap lacerated his cheekbone, antagonizing the failed scholar enough to gather smoke inside the opening of his ancient throat.

Drake swerved as fire slashed through the air, dipping below Pyralis's belly. Thalia had nearly gone limp, her eyes rolling back.

Stay with me!

But she couldn't. His mate was slowly sliding into unconsciousness.

He tried to swat at Pyralis's clenched fists in an attempt to loosen them. He managed to strike his underbelly, a long thin, mutilating line spread red in a sensitive spot.

Pyralis was getting frustrated. And frustrated dragons made mistakes. Fatal ones.

The old dragon summoned his breath again as Drake circled him like prey. The fire he emitted the second time was pitiful, but it blocked the king's vision temporarily.

That was when the bastard went in for a despicable move.

Pyralis clamped his jaws down onto the nape of the king's neck. The fangs were long but too dull to cut through. Drake kicked the spot where he had separated the scales with a guttural blow.

Pyralis folded inward. His hold on Thalia was instantly broken, and she fell at a pace so brutal, the king nearly singed the flesh of his own throat as he roared.

He abandoned Pyralis and blazed downward. Thalia's body spun around in hysterical circles, her hands clawing at the air for some invisible ladder. Tears burned in the king's eyes as he foresaw a future void of his beloved mate, one of relentless futility and never-ending despair.

Drake used everything within his dragon's ability to speed up, narrowing his body once again and folding his wings in between his shoulder blades. He dove low toward the ground, barely coming under her tumbling form, ignoring his own potential demise.

I have you!

It was a promise the king kept.

He slammed hard into the unforgiving earth, skidding through the spilling of blood and rainfall. He felt Thalia land on his back and sink into him like a pile of pillows.

Disregarding his own pain, Drake rolled onto his side, clutching at the ground, and caught Thalia with his open claw as she slipped off his back. She was breathless and stared up into the pale red sky in shock.

In his distress, the king shifted back into his human form, shrinking down to the position of holding Thalia in his arms. Her back was pressed against his chest, and the two of them panted, the way they had after blissful lovemaking.

She turned over shakily and gazed down at him. He was naked and soaked in the rain.

"Drake…"

He kissed her hard and never looked back again.