And know to my bones that our False Council enemy is Ruta Bein.
But something about that isn’t right. Even as Aesa’s Truthstone gives me a sudden warning in my chest that my instinct is right, but also wrong, I feel our immense power-up rebound upon Mikkel.
Though it woke him from some stasis he’d been in, thanks to Ström and Lærke having caught him again with their power, I feel how Mikkel now receives the most benefit from Baldur’s and my bonding.
Because this power is pure cosmic magic now, bound by our five dragon’s gifts to undo any enemy. As all that immense power takes Mikkel, done with the False Council and needing something else to focus on, I feel our new level-up give Mikkel a veritable fuck-ton of strength.
Though all of us received an incredible boost from Baldur’s magic, now shared amongst us five ways, Mikkel is the one who takes it. I feel him wrangle all of Baldur’s magnificent energy now, just like he did a moment ago to take on the False Knights.
Then thrust it through himself—exploding the containment that had been around him like a bomb.
Mikkel is free, for real this time, and it’s not a good thing. Even as Baldur and I heave upon the table, exhausted from our mystical and intensely physical mating, I suddenly know we have a crisis on our hands.
Because somewhere in Copenhagen, Ström and Lærke had managed to get Mikkel contained again, secured in his human form, where he could do no harm. But now, thanks to our bond’s major power-up, Mikkel is loose.
A Wraith as his dragon again—heading right towards enemy skies.
19
COST
Ifeel it as Mikkel focuses all his intent upon the Amalienborg Palace in Copenhagen. Even as I heave hard breaths upon the white birch table in Baldur’s wrecked studio, trying to get my shit back together fast, I know Mikkel’s out for blood, and won’t be stopped this time.
Thanks to our new power-up with Baldur, I can feel where Mikkel’s heading. I see it through his own eyes now, as he flies right for the one man who has wronged him and his family his entire life.
The Jarl of Copenhagen.
But that ridiculously crafty, powerful Jarl can eat a solo drake like Mikkel for lunch any day, no matter how much new magic he’s packing. Lærke’s scream goes off inside me then, like a harpy trying to protect her brood, as she shifts up wherever they are.
I get a brief vision of the gilded top floor suite at theForgyldt Burin Copenhagen, Emil Beck’s hotel, wrecked now from Mikkel blasting off as his dragon—before I feel Lærke shift and roar off after him.
Thanks to my now superpowered bond to Mikkel, I can feel Lærke’s emotions through her natural bond to her twin. She’s terrifiedthat Mikkel’s gone rogue, with no backup whatsoever, as he flies off to take out his infinite wrath upon Copenhagen’s Jarl. She’ll follow her brother to the end to protect him, however, and keep him safe.
As we now have two dragons we might lose, if we can’t jump in and save them—fast.
“Rikyava!! We have a situation!” Ström’s roar inside my mind is echoed in the real world by Bjorn, as he hammers in through Baldur’s studio door now, roaring in truth.
Fully recovered, my First Drake growls like a rampaging bear to see me and Baldur all twisted up together on the table, sweaty and wrecked from our recent coitus. His eyes are on fire with the scalding all-gold of his dragon as he comes to us, his furious gaze roving our scene.
But Bjorn only heaves hard breaths through his nose, keeping his shit together, despite how I’ve just fucked and bonded yet one more drake. Despite his rage, he knows the score; I feel the practical side of him understand we need Baldur’s magic in our mix—Bjorn needs it, even far more than anyone else, but he doesn’t have to like it.
Or what he sees, as he enters the ruined studio.
Bjorn strides forward now, scooping me up into his arms and ripping me from Baldur’s embrace. I feel Baldur power up protectively in response; for a moment, he and Bjorn face off in a towering surge of might as Baldur’s eyes go entirely white-hot opal and gold, ringed by crimson, for a fight.
I feel their auric dragons surge up, snarling at each other inside our bond. But as fast as it happens, Baldur suddenly backs off. Hauling everything of his dragon back in a masterful rush, Baldur checks himself.
Giving Bjorn a subtle nod, though I know it’s not over between them.
It’s not over by a long shot, as my First and Fourth Drake suddenly process a deep need to fight. As a hot rage seethes through my own veins too, from my bright inner drakaina, I know Bjorn and Baldur will have to have it out sometime, because they’re both part of the same magic.
As Blood Sages, both of their powers like to rage and roar for a fight;Baldur may have spent a thousand years honing his to a specific purpose, but that fire and rage is still inside him, hot like the starburst I know he truly is.
He concedes to Bjorn now, however, my chosen First Bloodmate; and I’m grateful, because we have something far worse on our hands right now than a drake’s pissing match.
We have a renegade Wraith, heading to Amalienborg Palace alone, with only Lærke to back him up. Mikkel’s going to get dead, or worse, even as Ström roars inside my head again, putting power so dark and consuming into it that my vision goes black for a moment as I swoon.
Bjorn has put me on my feet beside the table; catching me, he steadies me, even though Baldur has surged forward to help. With a dark growl, Bjorn warns him off.
