Falcyn and Blaise returned to their dragon bodies. He lowered his wing for Medea to have access to his back while Blaise allowed Brogan and Brandor to mount on him for a ride.
The moment Medea slid into place, she felt Falcyn’s sharp intake of breath as he shuddered between her spread thighs. Worse was the wave of desire that reverberated through her entire being. She quickly glanced to the others to make sure they didn’t see it, and over her shoulder to ensure her brother hadn’t picked up on it.
Luckily, no one seemed to notice. Yet her cheeks heated up anyway. It was so uncomfortable to know what thoughts were in her head and in Falcyn’s. And she hated the power he had over her. Hated how little control she had where her dragon was concerned. Especially when he lifted the edge of his wing up to brush her face and she caught the heated look in those serpentine eyes.
Yeah, no missingthat. Or the rumble that preceded a bit of fire that came out of his mouth before he stood up in all his dragon glory.
Unaware of where her wayward thoughts kept drifting, Urian situated himself behind her in the saddle while Brogan took up Blaise’s reins.
Once everyone was secured, they took flight over the not-so-fun enchanted forest.
Medea quickly learned that she wasn’t keen on air travel. At all. In fact, she loathed it with every molecule of her being. The only thing that made it tolerable was that Urian kept her anchored from behind while Falcyn flew low to the ground as soon as he realized how scared she was to be in his leather saddle.
She truly didn’t care for this at all, and kept a death grip on his spiny ridges. How could anyone stand flying like this?
I won’t hurt you.
She stroked the scales on his neck and projected her own thoughts to him.I know. But I’d still rather have my feet safely on the ground.
She was no dragon-rider, after all. At least, not in this manner. How anyone could ride them into battle and fight, she couldn’t imagine. The rocking sensation combined with the dipping and rising, and the rushing wind, was nauseating her.
But luckily, it was only a matter of minutes before she saw the bright crystal castle that floated above the tree line, turning in a slow circle. Without a doubt, she knew this was where Emrys Merlin made his home. And as soon as it came into focus, it was obvious that something horrible had happened here.
Blaise had been right.
Tendrils of gray smoke rose up from the blackened towers. Animals and demons lay slaughtered about on the road, leading from the forest toward the cleared grounds and meadows. There had to be a thousand rooks lying on the ground in a twisted, macabre display.
The drawbridge yawned open to show a bright, gilded hall that gleamed in the dim light. Yet for all the ostentatious wealth, it wasn’t inviting.
It was insidious against the blood-laden landscape. As was the quiet that reverberated and was broken only by the sound of the dragons’ flapping wings.
Blaise turned green as they surveyed the damage. “Who would dare attack?”
“Morgen, maybe?” Brandor suggested.
“No.” Brogan’s eyes glowed bright in the dimly lit mist. “Not even she would dare attack Nimue. Never mind Merlin. Not here in their stronghold.”
“She’s right,” Blaise agreed. “Besides, there would be gargoyles, Adoni, and mandrakes among the dead had Morgen battled here. She isn’t humane enough to see to the dead. She’d have left them wherever they fell.”
After landing in a small clearing and making sure his passengers were safe, Blaise took off running across the narrow bridge that was suspended over a deep, dangerous ravine. Brogan and Brandor stayed back to check the bodies for life signs while Falcyn landed and helped Urian and Medea to dismount.
Urian went to help them.
Falcyn shifted back into his human body and rushed after Blaise, knowing what he’d find and that his mandrake kin would need comfort when he did. The fact that Blaise didn’t even think to teleport said it all about how upset the poor boy was. He wasn’t thinking straight.
Only feeling the pain of loss and despair.
And Falcyn knew the moment Blaise found their bodies. His anguished bellow echoed through the burned-out Great Hall, and made Falcyn’s stomach clench tight. Never had he heard a more sorrowful sound. One that held the betrayal of the ages. He wanted to cry for him.
More than that, he wanted to ease the pain and knew there was no way to soothe what he heard. No words could undo this. No magick.
By the time Falcyn got there, Blaise was on his knees, cradling Emrys’s body in his arms. He winced at the sight of them entwined, at the way Blaise wept while he held the man he considered his father. But what hurt most was the knowledge that his own blood would never mourn for him to that depth.
Yet Falcyn would be far more devastated if something ever happened to Blaise. That he’d been even more inconsolable after Max had divided him from Maddor. And that was what burned so deep right now.
He’d cried those tears for thousands of years. Had howled and cursed for his son, while his soul and heart had bled from a wound that no amount of anything could heal.
Damn them all for this!
