Page 8 of A Very Dragon Christmas (The Dragon Guard #51)

Slowly taking a bite out of the third, or maybe it was the fourth cookie since his cousin's shocking revelation, Cass had just wrapped his fingers around the handle of his mug when Barbara speared him with a look and started poking and prodding. "You know I don't care how many cookies you eat. Hell, I'll start bakin’ more right this very minute if you were eatin’ them to enjoy ‘em and not just because you’re stallin’. Leaning her hip against the counter, she continued, gaining conviction with every word. “You know it. I know it. Jed knows it. Everybody knows it. It’s been your go-to play since you were a little boy.”

“Yep,” his cousin chimed in with a smirk on his face, a twinkle in his eye, and a cookie in his hand. “Sure has.”

“Traitor.”

“Dude, the most amazin’ auntie in all the world speaks the truth. Just because I agree does not make me a traitor.”

“And this boy right here…” Pushing off the counter, Barbara took the three steps to get to Jed’s side and patted him on the shoulder with the biggest smile on her face. “…is not a traitor. He just knows what I’m sayin’ is right, as usual. ”

“Absolutely,” his cousin nodded emphatically. “The woman speaks the truth.”

"Argh," Cass growled, setting his mug back on the table before getting any coffee. He shoved his fingers through his hair. He could feel every curl standing at attention atop his head but just couldn't care. His aunt and cousin were right, and he hated that they were right, but not even his disgust at the situation changed the fact that… They. Were. Right.

With a single sharp shake of his head, he growled under his breath one more time about know-it-all relatives and other such things, smacked his knee with the palm of his hand, and got to his feet. Reaching over, he grabbed his hat off the far end of the table, slammed it on his head, and glared first at his cousin, then, after softening his gaze to a light glower, looked at his aunt. Huffing out a sharp breath, he closed his eyes and centered himself so he wouldn't snarl at one of his favorite people in the whole world.

Opening his eyes, he watched Barbara's smile brighten, and the love in her eyes multiply by leaps and bounds. Across the kitchen in the blink of an eye. She pushed up on her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him down into a hug. "You're gonna be just fine, Son.”

Patting him, she moved backward, kissing him on the cheek as she went. The second he was looking into her twinkling eyes, she reassured, “You got this, Cass, my boy. You were made for this, and so was she. She is your Mate. The woman the Universe made for you. She is the other half of your soul and the Light to your Darkness. You know what you gotta do. Go see Grandad Cheveyo. You know he’s got all the answers you need.”

“And if he doesn’t,” Jed added. “Momma Maybelle is there, too.” Popping half a cookie that used to be the shape of a snowman decorated with icing and sprinkles into his mouth, he continued as he chewed. “You know they’ve got all the answers you could ever want and then some.”

"And you know that you're not supposed to talk with a mouth full," Barbara grumped, having turned so she could look at both men. Shoulders bouncing as she tried to hold back her chuckles, she added, "And don’t you think you should be goin’ with your cousin?”

Swallowing as quickly as possible, then downing an entire glass of milk, the Stallion Shifter shook his head so vigorously that his long, dark hair swept around hm like a cape. “No, ma’am. I came here to talk to you then got…”

“You got distracted by food,” Cass deadpanned, knowing he had a look of disgust on his face. “Don’t you even try to convince me that you got distracted because I was here. We all know how you love sweets. The whole of the great state of Texas knows how you love baked goodies. Wouldn’t ya’ just know it? I get sold out for cookies, milk, and Aunt Barb’s conversation.”

“Damn straight!” Jed cheered, then popped yet another cookie in his mouth. Making a show of chewing with his mouth shut, he teased telepathically, “Go on now, Son. Time to get a move on. You need to go see a Chief about a Mate.”

“And you need to shut up.”

"I swear to the Heavens," Barbara chuckled. "It's just like old times when you two get together–bicker, makeup, bicker, makeup, bicker, makeup. How old are y'all again?"

"Old enough to know better," they answered in unison before bursting out with laughter that filled the entire house. Then Jed added, "And just think, pretty soon, everybody will be here. Talk about lettin’ the good times roll.”

The laughter was boisterous and so wonderful that Cass almost forgot what he was about to do.

Just almost …

No sooner had the hilarity calmed than he leaned down, kissed his auntie on the cheek, and then nodded to his cousin. "Alright," he sighed. "I'm gonna head out." Raising his eyebrows, he attempted to coax, "You sure you don't want to come along, Jed. I sure could use a Wingman."

“Nope, Dude. This is all you,” the Stallion Shifter winked. “Besides, I really need to….”

“Talk to Aunt Barb, yeah, yeah, yeah…” Cass pretended to be irritated. “Just know that I’m not buyin' a word of it, and paybacks are a bitch."

“Duly noted, Cuz. Duly noted,” Jed snickered.

Heading for the backdoor, Cass hollered over his shoulder with a snicker, “Oh yeah, love you both.”

“And we love you,” Aunt Barbara sing-songed. “Now, hurry up and bring your Mate back. I think a Mating Ceremony is the perfect way to celebrate the Holidays!”

“I’ll do my best.”

Out the door, down the steps, and through his favorite aunt's flower garden, he was across the edge of the Chihuahuan Desert closest to the MacAllen Ranch and into McKittrick Canyon in the blink of an eye. Inhaling all the scents and sounds that were uniquely home, he stopped to pick up a few flat rocks and skip them across the babbling waters of the creek while trying to get his thoughts in order.

“It won’t do for us to show up over there and not have all our ducks in a row,” he explained to Blár.

“No, it will not,” the Dragon King with whom he shared his soul agreed. “Cheveyo does not suffer fools. Then again, there isn’t much to get ready. You know what you must do.” Blár paused, and Cass could feel him thinking. Finally, he continued, “Tell him that you remembered what he’d told you the night of our first Shift, and you need his help finding the signs that will lead to your Mate. ”

“You know, none of my cousins had to go to Cheveyo to find their Mate. Do you really think…?”

"Yes, I really think that every prophecy, prediction, and conversation you have had since that first Shift has led us to this place, at this time, to the Great Chief of the Thorntree Tribe to not only receive your blessing but to allow him to point you in the right direction."

“But…”

"But nothing, Lad. Bane told you, and now Jed has confirmed that time is short. The clock is ticking. For some reason, there is an expiration date stamped on your arse, and you need to find your Mate sooner rather than later. So, in the words of your very wise Aunt Barbara, it's time to get a move on."

“Yeah, well…”

Letting his words wander as he watched a Mule Deer Doe coax her twin Fawns across the meadow on the opposite side of the stream, Cass thought about what it would be like to have a family–a Mate and children of his own. As soon as the thought popped into existence, Blár, yet again, said, "You'll never know if you keep procrastinating, Lad. Let's get going."

Rising from where he knelt, the Guardsman stumbled as the Dragon King with whom he shared his soul knocked him on the back of the knees with a slap of Magic. "One day, I'm gonna figure out how to get even with you for all the years of abuse.”

“I welcome the challenge.”

Not bothering to comment because it just would've led to a long, drawn-out word battle Cass didn't have the brain power to engage in at the moment, he straightened the tawny Stetson atop his head, turned to the left and headed toward the footbridge that was always so beautifully decorated with flowers for every season. It didn't matter that he hadn't been back to the Chihuahuan Desert in years. The delicately painted blossoms were something he could always count on being there.

Over the years, he’d asked the name of the artist, but no one had ever answered. He didn’t know if the artist wanted to stay anonymous, or if those he’d asked simply didn’t have the answer. Either way, he hoped to one day meet that person and thank them for adding a little sunshine to every trip he made to the canyon.

Inhaling deeply, knowing how close he was to not only Chief Cheveyo but, by all accounts, his Mate, Cass, blew out the breath. Turning back yet again, he watched a swarm of Dragonflies fluttering amongst the multitude of blossoms and prayed that his Mate would love this place, his home, as much as he did. It was where he wanted to settle down, where he wanted to raise his kids, where he wanted to spend his happily ever after.

One last look and yet another Magical prod from his Dragon King, and Cass turned toward the Res. Smiling at the painted flowers, he inhaled deeply and then exhaled, pushing all the tension and trepidation from his body.

Reaching for the wooden handrail, he whispered, “For better or for worse, let’s get this show on the road.”

Brushing the handrail with the tips of his fingers, an electrical current shot from the well-worn white oak into his hand. Racing up his arm, it supercharged his heart, did a loopty loop up through his brain, danced around his lungs then splashed down in the depths of his soul like the shuttle hitting the jetty at Cape Canaveral.

Driven to his knees by the sheer magnitude and strength of the memories, his mind was swamped with sights and sounds and images that he knew beyond all shadow of a doubt were not his own. Looking through the eyes of another, he saw people and places he knew so well.

Aunt Barb, Uncle Owen, all of his cousins, the Sampson Twins, and even Cheveyo and Momma Maybelle were there. He felt himself swooping through the air and instantly knew that he was on the tire swing outside the Chief's house on Sequoyah Hill. The long red curls that glistened in the sunlight had to be that of a little girl, and the giggles that felt as if they were coming from his own lips were most assuredly female.

Then, in an instant, the perspective changed. No longer was he in the mind of the person whose memories he was experiencing, but he was watching as if the recollections were a movie.

Absolutely the cutest little girl he'd ever seen, with bright red curls in ponytails tied with blue ribbons, was playing with another older girl in Momma Maybelle’s backyard. With her hands cupped on either side of her face, her sparkling green eyes twinkled with mischief as she looked at the bark of the Sugar Maple tree and counted to ten. “Ready or not, Augie! Here I come!” She shouted before taking off as fast as her little legs would carry her.

Before she found her playmate, the scene once again changed. No longer was she a little girl, and sadly, neither was she smiling.

Sadness poured off her like raindrops off a duck’s back as she stood beside a funeral pyre. Tears streamed down her face as two bodies wrapped in the ceremonial cloths, one adorned with the Timber Wolf head medallion of the Thorntree Pack and the other wearing one with an insignia Cass didn’t understand, but the owner of the memories knew all too well.

Her thoughts were jumbled, her sorrow almost unbearable, but still, at such a young age, she spoke with the wisdom of the Ancients. Her voice was music to his years. He wanted to go back in time and take away all the pain of losing those she loved so dearly.

"Today, under the moon and stars, I ask the Great Creator, the Universe, and The Powers That Be to welcome my momma and daddy home. Their time here on this Earth was short, and I-I w-w-ish…”

Unable to go on, Cheveyo took over, and that memory ended. It had been her parents. There was no doubt. And he knew they died an honorable death on the battlefield, protecting those they loved–doing everything in their power to make sure that very special little girl had the best life possible.

“Just like my mom and dad,” he whispered.

From one beat of his heart to the next, the movie of his Mate's life–for that's who she was, of that there could be no doubt–started again. Flashes of important events, birthdays, holidays, and celebrations at the Res all zoomed by in a blur that only his Enchanted eyesight could decipher. Not everything he saw was happy. The woman made for him by the Universe had experienced her share of ups and downs. She'd fought hard to become an award-winning photographer, with her pictures in more publications all over the world than Cass knew existed.

His Mate was fantastic. Her intelligence was woven into the very fabric of her being. It shone around her, a bright, warm, and wonderful light that called to his soul. Cass was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. He wanted to be nowhere but by her side.

From her memories, he knew that she was incredibly talented, seeing things in animals, people, and nature as no other ever had. She was his complement, the other half of his soul. She was everything he’d ever wanted– ever needed .

And her beauty was beyond compare. Flaming red hair, highlighted with hues of golden honey, fresh pumpkin, and chestnut, perfectly matched Blár's fire and magnificently enhanced her flawless ivory skin, blush cheeks, and brilliant Emerald eyes.

Not to mention the spattering of freckles dancing across her nose and the apples of her cheeks–he dreamt of worshipping each one with adoring kisses as he marked with his scent for the world to know that she was his Mate, the woman made for Caspian MacAllen by the Universe and no other.

"She. Is. Mine."

The longer he gazed into her memories and took in all she was, the deeper he fell in love with this glorious woman, and he didn't even know her name. The Mating Bond in the center of his soul burned brighter than the sun. Blár was roaring at the top of his lungs and pawing at every corner of Cass's mind.

Both man and Dragon King knew this woman was the other half of their soul. She was the Light to their Darkness. She was their Hope.

No sooner had the thought passed between them than did the flashes of recollections come to a screeching halt. Disoriented for the briefest of seconds, he slammed his eyes shut. Waiting less than a second, he opened them wide, and his heart stopped cold.

Through a veil of Ancient Mysticism, he could see the woman made for him by the Universe and she was quite literally the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on. Unfortunately, she was smack dab in the middle of a shitstorm of epic proportions. Standing five feet tall, if she was an inch and still sporting a flowing mane of long, red curls, his Mate was brandishing an ornate Cherokee War Club like it was what she was born to do.

There was no fear. There was no trepidation. There was only the knowledge that her fight was just and right, and it was what she had to do to save her people.

Eyes flying to her assailant, Cass couldn't believe his eyes. He'd only ever seen anything like the rider on the Dead Horse in pictures–and they did not come close to the pure menace, malice, and destruction rolling off the Evil Earth Spirit known as the Uya.

Before he could think, come up with a plan, or yell for his Mate to get out of the way, she literally taunted the Uya, yelling, “You came here for me, Bitch. So, let’s do this!”

The Evil Earth Spirit’s retort was instantaneous and earsplitting as she bellowed, “I will have you, Abigail Annabella Addams. I will drink the blood from your veins. I will grind your bones to dust. I will wear your teeth around my neck as a warning to all who dare oppose me. Your defeat will fan the flames of my Reign. You will die knowing that your loss is that of the world, of all that is Good… of the Light.” Her hiss echoed, riding the airwaves in a dissonant chord that made the hairs at the nape of Cass’s neck stand on end–and she wasn’t done.

“But before that, Abigail Annabella Addams, the first True and Natural N?nn?’h? Warrior to walk the Earth in many years, I will take all you hold dear. I will bend and warp and kill your friend, your family, and most importantly, your Uktena. Today is the day of your death. Today is the death of the Everlasting Hope!”

“ Hold on , Mo stór! I’m coming! From this day forward, we fight side by side!” Cass roared directly into Abigail’s mind.

Jumping to his feet, Cass summoned the Magic of the Ancient Dragons and called to the Dragon King with whom he shared his soul, “Time to do what we do, Old Man. Pour on the…”

And that was as far as he got before Blár took control of not only the Guardsman's body but his mind and the immense amount of magnanimous Ancient Mysticism, Enchantment, and unwavering Blessing flooding into every fiber of his being. Thanking the Heavens that his Dragon King was controlling the whirl of manic rage and the unrelenting need to rid the world of the Evil Earth Spirit who dared to challenge the woman made for him by the Universe, Cass’s head was thrown back as far as it would go, and glorious flames flew from his lips as he roared his supremacy for all to hear.

The racing of paws, hooves, and all manner of feet hit the ground in wild abandon, and the inhabitants of McKittrick Canyon sought cover. Although fear rode the airwaves, none of them went far. Peeking their heads around stumps, through leaves, from under bushes, and out of burrows, they all wanted to behold the majesty of the coming of a true Dragon King.

Seizures, tremors, and all manner of convulsions shook his body. His blood ran cold. Then it flipped to boiling. Then it returned to freezing. Over and over, shivers wracked every cell of his body and then sweat ran like rivers over every inch of his flesh, switching back and forth in the blink of an eye. Contracting and contorting, his very physique prepared for the transformation from man to mighty Dragon King.

In an instant, both agreed that they needed the mobility of the compact, indestructible form of Warrior Dragon. The Magic of the Ancient Dragon Kings, the Original Mage, and of the Knights whose souls were shared with the original Dragons beat against Cass’s body with the force of a jackhammer destroying concrete.

Forcing the large, elongated muscles he would have used for flying had they been Shifting in their Winged Warrior into his chest, biceps, and quads, his torso expanded in width and breadth at an unparalleled rate. It was obvious Blár was rushing the Shift as never before to join their Mate in battle, and Cass was there for it all.

The thick grass, sandy soil, and roots of plants and trees beneath his feet shuddered and shook. The small pebbles and flat rocks of the creek's edge danced along the terrain as the long claws jutting from his toes dug deep, providing the Dragon King with much-needed stability as his body grew into the unstoppable Warrior it was meant to be.

An inferno, the flaming shards of silver and blazing spikes of iron bore for battle by the Irish God of War, Neith, sliced through the flesh and bone of his back. Every inch of his body had to be torn asunder and then reconstructed into the unbeatable Ancient Warrior they were destined to be.

Cartlidge and bone stretched, joints and tendons popped to create what would have been wings. At half their normal length, the tips snapped downward, curling toward the ground in the blink of an eye.

No sooner had one reconstruction occurred than another began. As the pointed finger claws were just about to touch the blades of grass, they twisted upward and shot toward his shoulder blades. Pushing through the thick layer of crystalline blue scales, they ripped through every layer of his body as if it were no more than wet paper.

Bones continued to shatter, and muscles unrelentingly tore with extreme precision and meticulous accuracy until the Dragon King no longer possessed wings at all. Instead, he had what looked like huge, semi-circular blades of an oversized Leviathan Kratos Axe jutting from his back with long, venomous finger-claws extending from the razor-sharp edges.

Moving them up and down and forward and back, he felt the acidic poison to which there was no antidote flowing through the capillaries, racing to the ready should their assistance be needed. To kill an enemy with venom created by the Morrigan, the Queen of Nightmares, the Celtic Goddess of War, Death, and Fate, was a last resort. Blár thought it too easy. He preferred a fair fight between combatants, but when it came down to the life of the opposition or that of their Mate. He would strike with wild abandon and walk away as the enemy died a horrible, agonizing death.