His arms come unwound, and he takes it. I feel my First Drake and I finally come to an accord as we hold hands. Though the situation is dire, it’s what we’ve got, as I feel our togetherness returned to us.
As I gaze around my drakes and know we’re in agreement on this at last, I nod to Jarl Jorg. “We use the Soulstone to tap into the Ancestors’ Void tonight to get information on the Rift. And then we’ll destroy it, posthaste.”
“Good.” Jarl Jorg nods, then rises. He watches our group one last time with his definitive eagle-gaze before pinning his great-grandson with it. “I need to meet with our King now, so we can digest this further; he has armies to prepare, and so do we. The Old Palace is already on red alert. I will make our forces aware that an attack from Lithava, the False Knights, and probably the Black Dragon, is imminent.”
“Our Bloodbond will gather our strength as quickly as we can, my Jarl,” Ström promises him now, as we all rise from the couches. “We will gain information from the Soulstone, then destroy it.”
“Inform me when it is done, and what we need to do next to end the Rift and the creature.” Jarl Jorg is decisive, as I see him switch into battle mode, rather than gracious host. Flicking his fingers for his family to attend him, plus Svanhild, Olander, and my stepfathers, he says, “Walk with me. We have allies to muster.”
Then he departs.
I have only a moment to hug my stepfathers and give nods of thanks to Svanhild, Olander, Annika, and Ström’s sisters, before everyone goes. It leaves only me and my drakes in the silent drawing room now, as the fires in the gargantuan fireplaces burn low and we survey the remains of the decimated meal.
Our enjoyment shattered to dire tidings, there’s nothing for it but to rise, take a few bottles of the Jarl’s best, along with a plethora of cigars, and exit the gaming room.
It’s not very late as we make it back to Ström’s tower rooms, the evening stars popping out in the inky velvet sky. The blue nimbus of the Twilight Realm is visible through every vaulted picture window, though I can’t enjoy it as I kick off my stiletto heels and heave a hard sigh.
Lærke is right there with me as she plunks into an overstuffed chair, massaging her likewise bare feet.
“Ugh. I hate how killer high heels are—even ones made in the Twilight Realm.” Her furious scowl could cut iron as she works out the knots in her feet, almost obsessively.
“A real battle-drakaina wears boots,” I concur as I sit beside her and roll out my ankles. All my drakes watch us now, as they kick off their own shoes, or in Bjorn’s case, unlace his tactical ankle-boots.
“Too bad I chose a profession in the club scene.” Lærke gives me the smallest conspiratorial smile, which I return. Our camaraderie is the only thing that makes me smile right now, with everything we’re up against. I wonder at that, feeling a strange energy shared between us again.
Though Lærke suddenly shuts it down, I wonder what’s been going on with our magics. I don’t push into it now, however, since we have bigger things to address.
I’ve always considered Lærke to be like a sister, but it’s almost as if my Bloodwalker power is finally trying to make a connection to her—though one that’s different from my drakes. It leaves us both confused now, as she pauses, watching me. Coming to us, Mikkel raises his eyebrows, glancing between us.
“Lærke? What’s going on? Are you trying to steal my mate?” Mikkel jests now, though his tongue always cuts like a blade, and Lærke jerks in shock.
“What? No!” she protests, her gaze shying to me, then away. “I’m just… tired, that’s all. Besides, drakainas aren’t my thing.”
“We’re all tired.” Mikkel chuckles, though he’s still got his eyes narrowed on his sister, then me. “Somethingis going on between you two, though, ever since the battle at the Rift. I can feel it moving all through my magic like electricity zinging between you both.”
“My Bloodwalker power has never gone after Lærke as a mate, Mikkel. It never wanted your sister’s power as food, only yours.” I protest now, then look at her. “No offense.”
“None taken,” she says, waving a dismissive hand. “Perhaps your bond is simply exhausted after all these continued shenanigans with the Rift and the Black Dragon, and your power is looking elsewhere for a little casual takeout. I’m honored, but not interested.”
“Regardless, there’s something—” But even though Mikkel’s like a dog with a bone right now, not about to let this go, Bjorn steps in.
“Give it up, Mikkel,” Bjorn says with a low basso rumble of warning as he steps before my chair, facing off with Mikkel. “Rikyava’s Bloodbond isn’t trying to go after your sister. We’ve already got bloodline matches to the Black Dragon Five in our bond, two Blood Sages and Two Bone Mages with Aesa’s silver rings for each, so there’s no need for anyone else in our Bloodbond. What we need to be focusing on right now is powering up so we can get into a Bloodwalking ritual ASAP. And you’re holding us back.”
“Whoa, easy, Bjorn!” Ström comes to Mikkel’s aid now, stepping in between my Third Drake and my First as Mikkel and Bjorn bristle at each other. “You’re not really helping thegetting-sexysituation. We need to be focusing on how we all get freaky right now and restore our power, so we can even think about doing a proper Bloodwalking. Not tearing into eachother and breeding contentiousness, pushing us further away from group sex.”
“While I agree with Ström, I’m beat.” Baldur is magnanimous now as he moves forward, settling one hip against the glass and chrome dining table and crossing his lean arms. He shakes his head. “I want to help us achieve arousal, but I’ve never been further from the mood, with everything we’re up against. And after that awful vision we all experienced through Rikyava just now when she touched the Black Dragon’s mind…” He shakes his head again.
As we glance around each other now, it’s clear no one is in the mood. We couldn’t be further from group sex and the serious nookie we need to create our auric fire and restore our bodies and magic.
As if the Soulstone ritual and the ensuing battle, plus us barely escaping the Black Rift, drained not only our power but all our righteous determination, I can feel how even Bjorn’s stalwart nature is exhausted right now.
All of us having gone through it to the max.
“We need to find the heart to continue, somehow.” Baldur gazes around us all, me last. “That’s what we need to resume our journey through all of this.”
“How do we find heart when we’re living in times so heartless?” It’s Lærke who surprises me now, as she gives an exhausted sigh. “What I wouldn’t give for some good EDM right now, to dance my ass off and forget all this.”
“EDM I can do. Hang on.” Ström’s on it, as he suddenly goes to a music player on the wall and fires it up. In two shakes, he’s got a playlist going that’s all heavy bass beat, catchy house melodic dance lines and old school techno fills.
