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DRAGAN

Mercenary Stronghold

She’s alive!

Seeing Eilish fills me with immense relief followed by gratitude, the likes of which I’ve never felt before.

She sighs into my shoulder and I can feel how overwhelmed she is. Noni climbs off my shoulder and hops onto Eilish and immediately begins tending to her wounds, which aren’t as deep as my own.

“Noni must focus on healing Mr. Dragan,” she says as she hops back onto my shoulder.

Eilish eyes me with worry. “Dragan... will you be all right?”

“I’m fine,” I insist, although I don’t know the extent of my own wounds.

“Should I go to Earlann and find you a healer?” she continues.

“We were lucky to make it out of that battle without attracting Variant’s attention. Let’s get back to the stronghold and tend to our wounded there.”

Myerdoth offers to assist me onto a horse and I accept his help.

The gateway to the mortal realm is only a few miles away, but the journey through the scorching sands nearly bleeds the remaining strength from my body. Sweat mixes with blood and marsh water, soaking through the lining of my armor until I feel chapped and sore. I can barely keep my eyes open.

I can see the canyon valley in the distance and Eilish reaches for my hand. “We’re almost there,” she says encouragingly.

Sentries blow the horns and the south gate to the stronghold opens. The camp is set just inside the walls and healers tend to the wounded. Eilish and Myerdoth help me to our tent and Myerdoth lowers me onto the floor.

“Can you get a Mage or a healer?” Eilish asks him. He nods and disappears as she leans over me and helps me remove my armor. When she sees the gash in my stomach, she recoils and then swallows hard.

“How bad is it?” I ask.

She nods. “Pretty bad.” She looks at my face and holds the top of her hand against my forehead, in the age-old way of judging my temperature. “You’ve lost a lot of blood, Dragan.”

A few minutes later, Myerdoth returns with a member of the Mages Guild with him. The older woman immediately enters the tent and sidles up alongside me. She focuses her hands above the wound and uses her power to knit the injury closed.

“How long until I heal internally?” I ask between breaths. The pain is terrible.

“Your body is exhausted,” the old woman answers, her long gray hair falling in front of her face as she lifts her head from her handiwork to look at me.

“I would suggest a week or so until you are fully healed, maybe less if you have regular healing treatments.” The mage hands Eilish a small black pouch.

“Make sure he drinks at least one cup of this each morning, or else he will prolong the healing process.”

As the mage leaves the tent, Kolvar steps inside. “King Galmer wishes to see you both.”

“Dragan’s in no shape,” Eilish starts but I wave her concern away.

“I’m fine. Just… help me up.”

Kolvar comes to my side and assists me in standing. I’m unbalanced on my feet and I have to lean against him. He looks at me with concern in his eyes.

“I could tell the king,” he starts.

“You’ll fucking tell him nothing,” I interrupt as I glare at Kolvar, followed by Myerdoth, followed by Eilish. “And will the three of you stop fucking babying me?”

Eilish smirks as she looks at Myerdoth and Kolvar, who just shakes his head.

The entrance to the stronghold opens to see us inside. The market is filled with people draped in black cloth as they cry for the lives lost in the liberation.

An enchantment causes petals of white lilies to fall from the sky like snow. A choir of female elves sings a low lament in honor of the dead, their voices rising in a beautiful, somber melody.

Eilish lowers her head and I reach over and tap her on the shoulder. She looks up at me and I offer her a smile. “You did the right thing—regardless of what you see around you.” I take a deep breath and steel myself against the pain from my wound. “This is just what war looks like.”

When we arrive in the courtyard of the Hall of Clans, King Galmer stands in his garden, long hair blowing in the hot breeze as he turns his gaze on us.

“More mercenaries returned than I had thought possible,” he says. “We feast tonight in honor of the fallen, but rest assured the fae you rescued are safe.”

Eilish and I bow our heads humbly to the king. I do my best to stand unattended, but it’s a feat.

Galmer moves to stand before us. “You and your allies may seek refuge among us. Those who wish to join your cause may do so freely.”

“But?” Eilish asks.

He nods at her. “But... I speak for my own in that we don’t want to be thrown into the thick of war with a false king and a crazed sorceress.

” He takes a breath. “The Midnight Queen considers you an enemy and therefore you endanger us all with your presence.” Galmer takes a deep breath.

“I wish for you to understand that, as your flag flies beside the other clans here.”

“Are you asking us to leave?” I demand.

Galmer looks at me. “No, I’m asking you to understand.”

“We do,” Eilish answers and reaches over, taking my hand.

Galmer nods at her again. “Come to the meeting tomorrow night. If the people speak in your favor, we will offer you a more permanent place for you to grow your resistance.” He clears his throat and faces Eilish. “I wish to have your ear for a moment, Lady Fulthain.”

I immediately straighten my posture and Eilish looks over at me. “It’s okay, Dragan. You need to go back and rest.”

She’s right. But I thought I lost her once…

“I promise her protection,” Galmer says with a smile as he faces me. “You have my word that she will be safe.”

“Dragan,” Eilish starts.

I nod and bow to the king as Eilish joins him inside. I stay behind and gesture for Myerdoth to accompany me back to the tent. The gargoyle is quick to comply.

“You can trust the king,” he says and I just nod.

“You mentioned this Stone Grimoire earlier,” I start as Myerdoth supports me with one shoulder. I accept his offer because I’m too weak to continue standing on my own.

“I did.”

“Tell me everything you know about it and where it was last seen.” He looks up at me with an irritated expression. I clear my throat. “Please.”

“To understand, we need to visit the library,” he responds. “Are you capable,” he starts.

“I’m fucking fine!” I insist.

“And fucking stubborn,” Myerdoth adds as he shakes his head. “If you pass out, I’m going to leave you where you drop.”

“Fine.”

We weave through the streets and I’m beyond grateful to have Myerdoth beside me. I couldn’t make this trek alone. When I feel as if I can’t move another inch, Myerdoth announces we’ve arrived.

We make our way to the large library and find a table near the back. Books float from one shelf to the next as mages use spells to replicate texts destroyed in the raids and small fae creatures organize the tomes.

I sit across from Myerdoth and the gargoyle watches the mages with distrust.

“The witch who created us wrote all of her spells in a black, leather journal with the symbol of strength and honor upon its cover.” He traces the symbol onto a scrap of paper.

The scratch of the quill causes chill bumps to bloom on my skin.

He passes the scrap of paper to me and I study the strange drawing.

“ Watch by day, protect by night. Only we can defeat darkness,” he starts.

“With darkness,” I finish as I look up at him. “I’ve known the oath all my life. It was from the grimoire?”

“Yes. The oath had been ingrained into us from the start. We are natural protectors, the gargoyle race.”

“Then you were there from the beginning?”

“I was.”

“Tell me the story of the witch you mentioned earlier,” I say. “Please.”

Myerdoth’s lips part slightly into the only semblance of a smile I’ve ever seen from him. “She gave us life and allowed us freedom, but I chose to stay with her. As her first creation, there was an incredible bond between us.”

I hold up a hand. “Wait a second,” I start and then take a pause. “Are you telling me, you were the first gargoyle ?”

He nods as I try to decide if he’s full of shit, delusional or just completely insane.

“I see the doubt in your eyes,” Myerdoth continues as he extends his forearm and unties a brown leather cuff that covers his skin. Beneath the cuff is a glowing red rune—and it’s in the exact shape of the picture he scribbled on the piece of paper.

“What is it?” I ask.

“The mark,” Myerdoth answers. “That shows I was the first of my kind.”

“What does it do?”

“Protects me,” he answers with a shrug. “I can’t be killed unless the mark is destroyed,” he continues as he covers the rune with the heavy leather cuff once more.

“Hence why you keep it covered?”

“Hence why I keep it covered. In times of war, I cover the leather with metal armor.”

I nod as my thoughts return to the witch and the story of the grimoire. “This woman created you and allowed you freedom, yet you chose to stay with her.”

“I did.”

“You loved her?”

“She was my mate,” Myerdoth reveals with a quick nod. “We only have one in all our lifetimes.”

“Is that true?” I ask, surprised to hear it.

“I would think you already know the answer to that question.”

I think of Eilish and I swallow hard. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

***

THEREN

Oronrel

I know I should fight these visions, the ones that pull me into her darkness, but I can’t.

I glide my hands across her alabaster skin as my hips thrust into the wet, pulsating suction that holds me captive.

The memory of Eilish’s love makes me dread ever leaving, ever seeing the light of day and feeling the burden of being king.

Here, she’s my home—and my undoing. I lick the sweet-tasting sweat from her lips and push her knees toward her chest. She gasps, squeezing around me like a vise.

The snow melts beneath our heat, pooling around us…

Water fills Cambion’s mouth as he reaches for me. My arms refuse to move, but my muscles twitch. Morrigan stands over him and I see the horror of his fear in his golden eyes...