Page 51 of The Dragon Warlord
I didn’t mean to let it get that far. I was still riled up from our swordplay. There was a moment when he was so incandescently beautiful with his eyes closed, our skin touching, and our mutual adoration building between us. My heart raced faster than it is now and that tug, the one that never goes away, pulled me to him. The magic of the bond that’s always telling me tojust touch him one more time, demanded that I kiss him. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but I usually have more self-control.
As the bond pulls us tightly together, it’s harder to restrain.
The beast roars and people scream. Right. I’m saving lives. Not rehashing the latest drama that has capsized my life.
Speaking of River, he’s finally joined the fray, in hot pursuit after me. Gods is he fast. Faster than I am and his white-scaled jacket glitters under the eerie orange light pouring into the tall windows. I’m figuring out how to use all the new power within me on the spot so I’m slower. This sword and jacket are heavy, but I would rather have them than not. The jacket alone has proven a useful shield. I’ll just have to get stronger.
The beast reminds me of a goat with the way it jumps from balcony to balcony, destroying pieces of the tower wherever it goes. Like it’s having fun. Just a beast being a beast. Like someone hopped it up on sugar and then let it loose.
Finally, it decides on a floor when we’re nearly one hundred floors up, and thank the Gods. I’m wearing out. I don’t know what’s going to be left of me to fight the thing.
“East corridor, Warlord,” River pants as he makes it over the ledge ahead of me.
The East corridor? Didn’t Ikara say she was headed there to meet with her mother? What are the chances she brought her sword? Probably none based on what she said about her mother’s sudden disapproval of her fighting, otherwise, I can guarantee she’d have one on her person. Wasn’t it Amira who called me a fool without a sword?
And this, my friends, is what we call irony.
Huffing, I use the strength I have left to sprint toward the gardens. After this, it’s a stricter training regimen. What I’ve been doing with River and Ikara isn’t enough. If I can’t fight with the army, fuck it. I’ll turn The Tower into my own personal training grounds. The dragon lord will have to suck it up.
We just have to survive this first.
River beats me over the ledge and waits to help me over it. We race into the gardens.
The bright sun is the antithesis of the darkness of the beast’s slate-green flesh. Up close, its face is a nightmare of teeth and garish gray skin with deep purple veins throbbing with every heavy breath it takes. It’s too beastly. As if someone created it from a stereotype in their mind of what they thought a beast should look like. Its large oxen-like horns snarl in curls down to its chin.
It has finally ceased jumping long enough to land directly before Amira as if it has found what it’s been seeking. Was it hunting her?
She turns to face the thing. It’s got something in its hand that I don’t recognize, a green-brown cylinder of crystals that it stabs into Amira’s torso at the bottom of her ribcage.
Doubling over, she screams.
With the magic of my sword charging through me, I run at the thing. I’m learning on the job how to maneuver this beast and have to rely on the stabby end of my sword going into it. The beast releases a blast of air that knocks me onto my arse before I ever touch it. Well, that’s not good.
It decides that its next act of violence is going to be against my omega. As its hammer-like fist smashes toward River, I dive in a crouch next to him and unleash an Elven shield I’ve practiced a thousand times under Zelphar’s tutelage, praying the beast isn’t immune to Elven magic.
The beast’s hand lands on a wall of magic that sparks gold. “What have you got for magic, Riv?” I shout. “Now’s the time.”
River unleashes a wild burst of dragon’s fire that catches on everything in the room, except the beast who’s fucking quick, diving out of the way and using some sort of counter-spell to clear a path for itself, blowing out River’s fire like it’s no more than a candle.
“Fucking shite. That’s not good, he says.”
Ikara has run over to her mother who’s on her knees, coughing up blood. While she tries to heal her, we’ve got to figure out how to end the life of this miserable thing.
Its yellow eyes snap to Amira. It intends to finish the job and its obsession with her confirms my suspicion that this isn’t a random attack, it came here to kill her.
The beast jumps, once again impersonating a goat with the way it bounces off one ledge to the other.
“Riv!” Giving the signal, and like we’ve practiced, we meet back-to-back so that no matter, which way the beast jumps, we’ve always got eyes on it. I let the dragon magic from my sword rage through me and with the way we can feel each other, I always know where he is. I’ve been learning the stormy way he moves as he cuts with his sword at the same time.
I wish I could see the magic swirling in his sapphire eyes. River might be gentle in his everyday life, but when he’s engaged in battle, he’s a fierce cyclone of wrath.
“Can you slow him down?” I shout.
“I can try.”
We move through the garden, dancing back-to-back, spinning in time with what he decided to throw at the beast. I cut and slice, hungry for a chunk of the beast’s flesh. It’s an exhausting and sweat-provoking battle. My muscles burn and as I tire, working with the dragon magic in the blade takes more energy than it gives.
Working with a blade like this requires a new skill, one I’ve been practicing with River, but clearly still need many more hours before I reach mastery. We’re all going to die and it’s going to be my lack of endurance and skill to blame.
