Page 57 of The Forsaken Heir

AURELIUS

E lle.

When I spotted her, she was toward the back of the conservatory, running for her life. A single human figure among dozens and dozens of wolves and my dragon forces. A fully shifted wolf was on her heels, chasing after her.

Shifting back to my human form, I cried out to the person nearest Elle.

“Vince, save Elle!” I shouted, pointing toward her.

My friend, in his full dragon form, eyed me for a moment, then swung his head toward Elle and rushed to help her.

I let out a small breath of relief, but an instant later, a massive, hairy beast slammed into my side, sending me crashing onto my side.

Pain lanced up my arm where I landed on it, but it was nothing compared to the terror of the snapping jaws at my throat.

I shoved my free arm under the wolf’s chin to keep it from tearing my throat out.

“Fuck…off,” I grunted, pushing the beast back as hard as I could.

The wolf flew back, knocking the feet out from under one of its allies, which spared Octavian from having his hamstring ripped out.

My chief of security had been backed into a corner, and he and another of my men were trying to fight their way out.

This was a fucking death trap. My mind whirled as I went through dozens of possible escape options.

Behind us, the crackle of shattering glass grabbed my attention. Relief flooded my soul as I turned and saw Vince cradling Elle in his arms, and leaping from the broken glass wall, flapping his wings and rising into the night sky.

The fact that Elle was safe took a huge toll off my mind, and I waded back into battle.

Teeth nipped at my arms as I fought toward my men, but I barely felt it.

Half-shifted, I lashed out with my teeth and claws before reaching Rasp.

He was still in his human form and fighting off three wolves at once.

I swung at the attackers and quickly dispatched them.

“Through the glass,” I screamed into Rasp’s face, trying to be heard over the tumult of the fighting around us.

Behind me, the heart-wrenching sound of a dying dragon’s cry split the night.

I flinched, forcing myself not to turn to see which of my men it was.

He was gone, but the others weren’t. I had to get them out.

I was the prince, and my duty was to my people.

“The glass?” Rasp asked dumbly. “What?”

Grabbing him and another man by the scruff of their necks, I shoved them toward the hole Vince had made. “There! Get home. Now!”

The other man rushed for the opening, but Rasp held back, beckoning at me.

“Come on, bro. Let’s go, then.”

I shook my head slowly. “I’ll follow. You go. That’s an order.”

Had wolves not been closing in on him, he would have argued, but he had to backtrack toward the opening, fighting off wolves as he went. He threw me one last anguished look, already knowing what I was planning. My friend understood me well, and he’d seen my intentions in my eyes.

“Octavian,” I cried. When he turned his dragon head toward me, I pointed to the opening in the wall. “Retreat. Get back home.”

He bobbed his head, then he and the remaining members of my security force made their way to the broken wall.

Blood poured from a myriad of bites and claw wounds all over Octavian’s body.

He had been cut by silver weapons, and those wounds smoked as if his fire was about to burst from within.

I’d never seen the man look closer to death than he did. I prayed he’d make it.

The wolves, sensing their prey running for safety, made to follow. I leaped onto a table and tore off the remnants of my tattered shirt, revealing my clawed and bloody chest, then threw back my head and screamed.

“I am Aurelius Decimus, prince of dragons. I am the one you want. Come for me! Come for the prize, you fucking bastards!”

The wolves turned almost like one sentient creature, their yellow, hungry eyes boring into me. Bastien Laurent shifted and pointed at me, a victorious smile on his face.

“Take him. I want him alive. The others are of no consequence.”

“Aurelius, no!” Rasp cried. He stood at the window, ready to shift and leap out.

“Go, Raspion! Go. I’ll hold them. Fly, damn you.”

His face twisted into a mask of agonized pain, but he did as he was told. He leapt out into the night air, shifted, and took flight.

I was alone. A solitary dragon in the wolf’s den. All around me, wolves snarled and gazed up at me hungrily. There was nothing more to be done. Even if I shifted, my dragon would be no match for so many.

“It looks like you’re not that invincible after all,” Bastien said, swaggering through the crowd of wolves, some fully shifted, some half-shifted.

“Rumor had it that you were some larger-than-life spectacle. I don’t know why I thought they might be true.

Anyone with the nickname ‘ The Peacemaker’ couldn’t be a true warrior. ”

I snarled, curling my lip in disgust, and waved at Bastien.

“Come and try me then, if you think it’s gonna be that easy. You may strike me down, but I assure you, no man here will forget the day they fought the prince of dragons.”

Bastien chuckled and crossed his arms. “So much bluster.” He glanced over my left shoulder. “Now.”

I spun just in time to see a hulking form sneak up on me. Before I could so much as blink, it swung a broken leg of a table toward my face.

Bang .

My eyes snapped open. My head throbbed. The sensation, like a million icy needles stabbing into my brain, sent waves of agony through my skull.

“Oh, God,” I moaned, and tried to roll over. That was when I noticed the pain in my arms and legs.

Gasping, I glanced down, and saw the cause of the agony.

Tight hemp ropes bound my hands and ankles to a bed.

A faint, almost imperceptible sizzling sound came from where the ropes touched my skin.

Wincing in pain, I looked closer through the dim flickering candle light of the room, and saw exactly what I’d feared.

Dozens of thin red strands had been woven through the cords.

The crimson resin found in a plant that was the bane of my race’s existence.

Its scientific name was Dracaena , but we simply called it Dragon’s Blood.

The last traces of sleep fled my mind, wiping away the dream of the disaster that had taken place at the end of the ceremony the night before.

Wait, I thought, glancing around the room, trying to find a clock or window. Was it last night? How long have I been in this room?

In a fit of impotent anger, I tried to rip my arm loose.

Normally, my enhanced shifter strength would be more than enough for the thin ropes holding me, but the Dragon’s Blood was not only painful to the touch, but prolonged exposure weakened us.

Instead of the powerful and damaging thrust that should have snapped the ropes, I was only able to give a feeble and sickly jerk of my hand.

The movement made the rope dig deeper into my skin.

I hissed in pain as the Dragon’s Blood sizzled and tore at my flesh.

Knowing it was pointless, I closed my eyes and contacted my inner dragon.

He was there, but distant, shoved deep into my subconscious by the Dragon’s Blood ropes that were slowly poisoning me.

There was no way for me to shift. Not like this.

Even if my life had been seconds from ending, I wouldn’t be able to summon the power or strength.

Now fully awake from the pain, I took in my surroundings.

My head still pounded like someone was riffing on a steel drum, but I was fully alert and as calm as I could be given the situation.

The ache in my shoulders told me I’d probably been suspended by a rope or chain for some time before being strapped to the bed.

I was naked save for my underwear, which at least gave me a modicum of dignity.

Before I could adjust myself to get a better look at the room, a bright rectangular outline appeared on one dark wall.

An instant later, I realized it was a door opening.

The light of the hall outside brightened my prison, showing the white nondescript walls around me.

Bastien Laurent walked in, a self-satisfied grin on his face.

Behind him, a couple of hulking men stood in the hall.

“You want us to come in with you?” one of them asked.

“No need, Hugo,” Bastien said, never taking his eyes off me. “I’ll be fine.”

He closed the door and flicked a light switch. Bright fluorescent light flooded the room, and I was momentarily blinded. When my vision adjusted, I found Bastien sitting on a small stool in front of me.

“So, this is the famous Prince Aurelius I’ve heard so much about. The Peacemaker himself.” He leaned forward, his face scrunching into a bitter, mean-spirited grin. “Are you going to try to make peace with me?”

“Maybe,” I grunted, trying to ignore the pain from the Dragon’s Blood ropes burning into my skin.

My response must not have been what he was looking for because his smile vanished and his eyes flashed with fury.

He poked the ropes that bound my wrists. I let out a hiss of pain as the ropes seared deeper into my flesh.

“You see, Aurelius,” Bastien went on, “This is not the dragon estate. Your father, the great King Cassius, isn’t here.

Your men aren’t here. No one here is going to fawn over you and tell you how great you are.

It’s just you and me. Do you understand?

Your station doesn’t matter, and you belong to me .

” He grabbed the rope and pulled it taut against my skin.

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to contain the groan of pain that wanted to burst from my throat.

“You sure do like to talk,” I hissed.

Bastien stood up so quickly that the stool went rolling back and banged against the wall. “ Fine ,” he growled, leaning close until his face was inches from mine. “Less talk. More action.”