Page 4 of Storm of Blood and Shadow (Merciless Dragons #3)

Night cloaks the island, so I don’t see much of our route, but I feel every dip and dive, every banking rise, every skillful sweep of the dragon’s wings as he threads tall rock formations, skims along cliffsides, angles around mountain peaks, and finally lands with surprising grace in a pitch-black enclosed space—his cave, I assume.

“There is no nest,” he says apologetically. “I was supposed to craft one for mating season, but I did not, and then we went to war. I will make one for you this week.”

Right now, the armies of Vohrain are probably sweeping into the capital city. I should be there to protect my family, to keep us safe, hidden, and fed. My family needs the supplies and the money that I carry. I place my hand over the bulging bag I’m wearing, wondering how much of the food survived my altercation with the murderers and my struggle in the dragon’s claws. It’s probably all smashed into pulp by now.

“Get off my back.” The dragon’s tone is firm but gentle. “I must go to my brother. As the princes of Ouroskelle, we must visit the grieving families of the clan and receive the bone-tribute they offer.”

“Bone-tribute?”

“When dragons perish, their forms dissipate at dawn, leaving only bones behind. Those who loved them will each take a small bone in remembrance, and the rest will be arranged upon the green meadows of Ouroskelle, to become part of the island over time. The families of the females who died on Ouroskelle last night will have gleaned the commemorative bones today, and they will offer bone-tribute to Kyreagan and I, to honor the dead.”

His grief vibrates through the rich timbre of his voice. I’m trying to understand, trying to figure out how to connect with him, to convince him. But panic is starting to set in as I realize how trapped I really am. If I keep envisioning all the terrible things that might happen to the children, I’m going to lose my mind.

“You can’t leave me here in the dark,” I tell him. “I can’t stay on this island. The city is going to fall, if it hasn’t already. My family will be vulnerable. Please…”

“Get down.”

I pin my thighs tightly around his neck and grip his spikes. “Make me.”

In the darkness I sense movement, his neck lifting, his head turning until I can see one of his amber eyes glowing, watching me. “You saw what magic I wield, yes?”

“Void magic,” I murmur.

“I could take off one of your limbs. Would that persuade you to obey?”

“You can’t do that. Not while I’m sitting on your back. You could end up hurting yourself.”

He chuckles darkly. “I am immune to my own magic, little one.”

“Good to know. Still, I don’t believe you’ll actually dismember me.”

The dragon crouches, pinning his wings tightly against his body and lowering his neck. His great shoulder shifts as he tries to reach me with his foreleg and knock me off. But I’m just out of range.

“I have gold,” I tell him. “I’ll give it to you if you take me home.”

“Everything in this cave is already mine,” he retorts. “What you carry is mine, and you are mine.”

Before I can object, he whirls around, soars out of the cave, and plunges downward. The night is cloudy, with only the faintest starlight filtering between the clouds, but I can make out the shapes of several other dragons flying beyond and below us.

“Rothkuri!” calls the black dragon.

“My prince?” One of the dragons circles back to fly beside us. Even in the dim light, his scales have a bluish tint. A plump girl is clasped in his claws, her red cloak fluttering in the wind.

“Where are you all headed?” asks my captor.

“To the cavern where we used to keep flocks,” replies Rothkuri. “Some of the others are putting the females in their caves, but I think the women will be more comfortable on the ground, with each other.”

“What about the fenwolves?” asks the black dragon.

“The wall around the pasture is still intact. They’ll be safe, and Gosrik has pledged to keep watch,” Rothkuri assures him.

The red-cloaked girl makes a faint sound of dismay. “I want to stay with you.”

“Do you, treasure?” croons the blue dragon. “Then so you shall.”

“We’ll come to your cave with you, Rothkuri,” replies my dragon. “Once your woman is safe, I need your help getting mine off my back.”

“Fuck you,” I snap at him. Raising my voice, I call to the girl in the red cloak. “Why on earth would you want to remain with these beasts?”

“To escape a worse beast,” she answers.

Her reply silences me, and I don’t object any further as we accompany Rothkuri to his cave. Once he has deposited his captive on the stone floor, Rothkuri plucks me off the prince’s back with his claws. The black dragon takes over, collecting me quickly and soaring out of the cave with me clutched in his forepaws. This time he holds me so tightly I can barely breathe, and when we reach his cave, he drops me onto the rock and nudges me toward the rear of the cave with his nose.

“Enough of this,” he says. “I am needed elsewhere. If you feel distressed about your family, take a few slow, deep breaths and focus on something pleasant instead. I will return as soon as I can.”

He leaps from the cave entrance and glides away into the night.

“A few deep breaths?” I seethe, incensed. “A few deep fucking breaths?” I unsling my bag and push it aside, furious that the items it contains, the ones which seemed so vital earlier today, are entirely useless now. The produce can’t help my family, and the dragon thinks the gold belongs to him anyway, so he won’t accept it as payment for my freedom.

I desperately want to pace the floor, but I can’t see much of the cave, and I’m terrified I’ll trip on a rock and make my ankle worse, or fall into a fissure. So I sit still, close my eyes, and try to make a plan.

Until recently, I never gave much thought to the dragons. They’ve kept to themselves ever since the end of the dragon hunts, and until several weeks ago, they seemed to have little interest in human affairs. Something must have driven them to war, prompted them to leave their archipelago and involve themselves in a war they didn’t start. If I can figure out their motive for allying with Vohrain, maybe I can use the knowledge against my captor. He’s far more intelligent than I expected a dragon to be—a beast, in a sense, yet not bestial. And he did rescue me from my would-be rapists. Then again, he only saved me to claim me for himself.

Something explodes into the darkness, blasting wind against my face, and I startle awake with a shrill scream. There’s cold rock beneath my hands and two orange lights floating in the shadows—two fiery eyes. I scream again, terrified by my own confusion. My mind scrambles for reality, for memory, for truth. I’m cold all over, my body hurts, and my ankle throbs.

“What’s happening?” My voice is a whimper in the dark.

“Be at ease, little one.” A smooth, deep voice emanates from the blackness, steady and sure. Something scrapes and slides across the stone floor, something huge and bulky.

Dragon .

The dragon, the invasion, the flight across the sea—everything rushes back into my brain, and I let out a low sob.

He curls around me in the dark. I can hear him moving and feel his presence closing in, his body blocking the wind, his heat suffusing the air.

“You will be alright,” he murmurs. “You are safe here, with me.”

“Liar,” I whisper.

“I may have secrets,” the dragon replies. “But I will not lie to you.”

I groan as I lay my head against the rock again. I didn’t plan to fall asleep, but my exhaustion makes sense, given that Lord Neran wouldn’t leave me alone last night. My ass still stings from what he did to me. I’m lucky he didn’t have a larger dick.

“You are in pain,” says the dragon.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere,” I whisper. “I wish I could sleep in a soft bed. Please take me back. Please. I’ll die here.”

“Bear with the discomfort for one night, and then I will make you a comfortable place to sleep. For now, we should both rest.”

I bite my lip, refusing to beg any more. But now that I’m awake, I can’t stop the tears, or the shaking gasps that quake through my body.

The dragon endures it for several minutes, and then he rises, a mountainous inky bulk in the blackness. Carefully he picks me up and flies out of the cave.

The brisk cold and the sharp wind flay my cheeks, the unyielding hardness of the dragon’s claws compresses my bruised flesh, and my mind goes blank with resigned horror as I’m carried in midair, out into the cruel night.

I don’t know how far he flies, but after what feels like an age of misery he sets me down on something soft—a bed of long, thick grasses. His body curls around mine instantly, radiating a heat that’s so tempting I can’t help moving nearer to him.

“What about the fenwolves?” I whisper. “You mentioned them to the other dragon.”

“They don’t usually come here,” he replies. “And if they do, I will protect you. No one will ever harm you again.”

I sink down onto the grass, my cheek propped on my arm. “My father once made me the same promise. He ended up hurting me himself. You should never swear such a thing to anyone.”

The dragon’s orange eyes blink at me. “You are right. Why should I believe that I could protect you when I couldn’t save her , or any of them ?”

His eyes shimmer briefly violet, and he releases a long, unsettled hiss before laying his head down on the grass. His body shifts as he tucks both forelegs under his great chest, like a cat settling in for a nap.

“Did you lose a…” I hesitate, searching for a word he will understand, “a mate?”

“No. I did not have a Promised. My brother did. Her name was Mordessa, and she was to be my second sister. My first sister Vylar died last night, as well as my grandmother, Grimmaw.”

“Last night,” I murmur. A wretched recklessness seizes me, a need to confess, an impulse to tell someone what I have sacrificed for those I love. “Last night I let a filthy old lord fuck me so I could pay rent and buy food for my family.”

The dragon shifts a little. “I do not understand.”

“I didn’t desire the man in any way. But I gave him my body to do with as he liked, in exchange for gold.”

“To pay rent,” he says carefully. “What is rent?”

“It’s money given to the owner of a building, so you can stay there and have shelter.”

“And you sold your mating rights for gold so you could continue living in your preferred shelter?”

“Something like that.”

“My clan sold ourselves to Vohrain for a short time,” the dragon says morosely. “We let their king use us for carnage and destruction, in exchange for new hunting grounds. We had no choice. Our isles have been plagued by disease, and the animals are nearly gone. Without new food sources, we will starve.”

It’s not the same, and yet it is. The similarity strikes oddly on my weary mind, and I let out a low, hysterical laugh.

“Our plight amuses you,” comments the dragon, his tone listless.

“No, not at all. It’s just that I never expected to have something in common with a dragon.”

The grass rustles as he shifts, curling tighter around me. “Are you more comfortable now?”

I’m still hurting, but I’m lying on deep, plush grass instead of rocks, beneath dark trees and distant starlight, with the dragon’s heat and bulk forming a wall between me and the night.

“Yes,” I murmur. “I am more comfortable. But you must swear to take me home tomorrow, or I will have to kill you and escape.”

His rumbling chuckle vibrates through the earth. “I don’t think you have blood and death in your heart, little one.”

“You underestimate what I will do for those I love.”

“Not at all,” he replies. “I’m simply hoping that by the time you figure out how to kill me and return to those you love… I’ll be one of them.”