Page 42 of Dragon’s Rebel

That his father would never be proud of him.

And then his father was gone, and Thorne was the last of the Guardians. Alone.

His body seized again. He shivered, trying to Change, but Vyrkos’ dark presence snaked through his mind, demanding that he remain a dragon.

He couldn’t resist the power of the Draken Lord, even if it tore his mind and body apart.

Another vision caught her up. Thorne, alone, wandering the empty house where the Guardians had lived. The place that had once been full of light and life and purpose, now lonely and echoing.

He sat in the middle of a large cavern, full of gold but empty of life. The fireplace was dark, the gold cold and silent, too devastated with loss to make a sound.

Like Thorne.

He wanted to give up.

But he didn’t.

And she wasn’t going to let him give up now.

“Come on, Thorne,” she said. “You can do this. You can be human again. Fight!”

She tried to think of something else to say, something to pull him back from the edge. “You’re a good man. A good dragon. Honorable. Brave. Strong. Determined. We need you.”

She felt a stirring in his mind, a flicker of hope. But before it could get a hold on him, the looming presence of Vyrkos reared up in his mind. YOU ARE DRAKEN, it said to Thorne. YOU WILL KEEP YOUR TRUE FORM. I COMMAND YOU.

And suddenly, Rebel felt the part of Thorne that wanted to be a dragon. The little boy, desperate to be a full-blooded Draken, to be loved, accepted, respected. The part of him that hated his human side, and all the pain it had caused him.

The part of him that didn’t want to come back.

The shadowy Draken Lord in Thorne’s mind grew larger, more commanding.

Oh hell no.

Hey! Rebel called out. You there! Draken Lord! Get the hell out of here and leave Thorne alone!

The shadow turned its full attention on her, and Rebel felt like her lungs were being squeezed flat. She couldn’t get her breath.

YOU DARE SPEAK TO ME, WORM? it thundered. YOU ARE NOTHING. HE IS DRAKEN. I COMMAND HIM.

Worm? Now she was getting pissed off. He doesn’t have to listen to you, asshole, she snarled. He’s not just draken. He’s human, too.

I AM HIS LORD AND HIS GOD.

You’re a loser stuck under a mountain. You’re not even here. You’re dreaming this. Go back to sleep, fucker.

Out loud, she whispered, “Come on, Thorne. You said I’m your mate. If you really believe it, then prove it. Come back for me.”

The Draken Lord began to laugh. The sound hurt her whole body.

YOU CANNOT BE HIS MATE. YOU ARE UNWORTHY. YOU ARE HUMAN.

Guess again, sucker, Rebel said. He was pissing her off, and her head was ringing. I’m not just any mate. I’m one of the Three Destined Mates from prophecy. A Keeper of the Seals to your tomb, dickhead. He doesn’t belong to you.

Darkness was rolling over her, and she felt like she would pass out. Words raced through her mind and out her mouth. “I claim him. By prophecy, magic and the power of the human heart, he is MINE!”

Rebel didn’t know where the last words came from, but as soon as they were spoken, it felt like an electric shock raced through her body and into Thorne’s. It crackled through the shade of Vyrkos left in Thorne’s mind, breaking its power.

The magic holding Thorne in dragon form dissipated. The serum’s effects blasted through his neural pathways, shutting down some, activating others.

His dragon gave a great roar, and then its body shimmered and shrank. Rebel’s left wrist burned and she cried out.

She was holding Thorne, naked and human, blood streaming from his nose and ears.