The Dragon Legion Collection

Chapter Three



There was something soothing about the rhythm of the dragon’s flight. Katina managed to slow the racing of her heart as the dragon carried her into the hills. Her face still hurt and the backs of her elbows stung where the skin had been scraped away, but she didn’t care. She was away from that horrific situation, one she had never expected. Cetos had never been violent before, and it made no sense that he’d been so distressed by not being able to surrender Lysander for some apprenticeship, even if the other man was wealthy.

It was as if a different man had come home from his routine journey.

Was he dead? Katina wasn’t sure and she didn’t want to think about it. Not yet. She could still smell burning flesh and it made her bile rise.

She was more worried about what had happened to Alexander. Had the dragon attacked him first? Was he still hidden in the bedroom, or had he managed to escape?

Would she ever know? She couldn’t help feeling that she was reliving the past in losing Alexander again and being uncertain of his safety or survival.

It wasn’t any easier the second time.

Katina spared a glance upward at her captor. She probably should have been more frightened than she was to be in the captivity of a dragon. Its grip upon her wasn’t painfully tight, and she had the sense that it had been saving her.

Why? A dragon was unlikely to speak to her, much less confide in her.

She’d never believed they existed, but this dragon was real. Was it exactly what it appeared to be, or a god in disguise? How could she find out?

Katina could see the deep silvery purple of its chest scales more closely now and also the power of its muscles moving beneath the armor. Its wings beat at almost a leisurely pace, as if it was effortless to both fly and carry her weight. There was a savage beauty about the dragon, and a power that filled her with awe.

“That he was your husband,” the dragon said, his voice sounding precisely like Alexander’s, “didn’t give him the right to strike you.” He gave her an intent look, one that reminded her very much of Alexander when he was annoyed. “Ever.”

Katina gasped in shock. “You spoke!”

The dragon glanced down at her regally. Its gaze was knowing, as if it would dare her to believe the impossible.

“But you’re a dragon,” she said, speaking aloud as she considered the possibilities.

“A dragon shape shifter,” the dragon corrected and once again, Katina heard her love’s voice.

“Alexander?” she whispered and he inclined his head once.

Just as Alexander would have done.

Katina looked away, her thoughts spinning. A dragon shape shifter? Who knew that such creatures existed...never mind that she’d been married to one. But then, the gods were often said to enchant humans, turning them into other creatures or trees. She’d thought the stories whimsical, but they must have a root in truth.

She could easily believe that Alexander would defend her from harm, using any abilities he had.

She just hadn’t counted on this one.

Was it possible that she and Alexander had something in common? Katina’s heart began to pound with hope, but she tried to stay calm. She had to know more to be sure that this was cause for celebration. “Isn’t that impossible?”

“Nothing is impossible, Katina. I’ve learned that much, at least.” He spoke with such conviction that she wondered again where he had been and what he had seen.

“Do you control the change?”

“Yes.”

“Is it new for you?”

“No.”


Katina was thrilled. “Show me,” she said, needing to see the truth with her own eyes.

Alexander didn’t answer, but began a spiraling descent. Katina realized that he was targeting the crest of a hill that was well out of sight of the village. He was going to do as she asked. But then, Alexander was always a man whose actions spoke more clearly than his few words.

The dragon landed with easy grace and set her on her feet.

Katina held her ground and met his gaze, wanting him to see that she was unafraid of him, whatever he was.

“You should avert your gaze,” he advised.

“Why?”

“They say it can make a human insane to witness the change.”

Katina wasn’t one to put stock in rumors, seeing such a change wouldn’t challenge her sanity. She already knew such feats were possible. “Who says that?”

If a dragon could be said to smile, this one did. “Others of my kind insist it’s true.”

“Have you seen any human go crazy at the sight?”

He considered the matter, then shook his head.

Alexander never lied to her.

“Then I’ll keep my eyes open.” Katina lifted her chin. “Show me.”

The dragon’s gaze brightened. The way his eyes glittered was both familiar and alien: it reminded her of Alexander when he was intent, yet seemed reptilian. “My bold Katina,” he murmured, the low familiar sound sending a shiver through her.

Then all she saw was the similarity to Alexander.

As she watched, that same strange blue light she’d seen before shimmered around his form. It became radiant, a wondrous yet unusual glow, and then within the halo of illumination, Katina caught a glimpse of the dragon’s silhouette changing.

The dragon’s wings became smaller and folded along his back, melding into his shoulders. His tail shortened until it, too, disappeared. His claws became hands and feet, his scaled hide faded from view, and Alexander stood before her instead. It all happened in the blink of an eye. That blue light shimmered briefly around his body, before it was extinguished.

He waited in silence for her to respond, watching her with care, just as Alexander was inclined to do.

Katina wanted to laugh with delight. She had a good look at him, verifying that her eyes hadn’t deceived her. Alexander was wearing his strange clothing again, although the front of his upper garment hung open to reveal the tanned expanse of his chest. He was exactly as he should be, and she knew he couldn’t possibly have been hiding here or otherwise disguised.

Alexander was the dragon.

The dark dragon drawn on his shoulder suddenly made more sense.

It marked him as what he was.

This explained why the dragon had come to her rescue. Katina exhaled, surprised to find her insides quivering with joy. Learning Alexander’s secret made Katina feel as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She didn’t have to hide her own truth from him any longer. She didn’t have to fear his reaction.

They had so much in common.

She walked toward him, cautiously placing one hand on his chest. His heart pounded beneath her hand, beneath the familiar heat of muscle and bone. She hardly dared to believe her good fortune, and had to be sure this was as perfect as she believed it to be. Was there a trick?

“What god gave you this gift and at what price?” she asked.

Alexander studied her, as if deciding what to tell her. He was so still that he might have seen the secrets of her heart. “You aren’t afraid,” he mused and her heart skipped. “You’re not even surprised.”

Katina smiled, not ready to explain herself just yet. “You’re the man I love, and that doesn’t change, even if you have kept a secret from me.”

Alexander studied her and she watched admiration dawn in his eyes, as well as pleasure. “My bold bride,” he murmured, then closed his hand over hers.

“I knew there was something you weren’t telling me.”

“How? I was so careful...”

Katina laced her fingers between his. “Not so careful as that. You answered the door before anyone knocked. You lifted a pot from the fire before the food began to burn. You rose from a deep sleep to get Lysander for his feeding before he opened his mouth to cry. I thought you could see the future, but were afraid to admit it to me. I thought you were a kind of oracle.”

He looked down at their interlocked hands. His thumb eased across the back of her hand, launching an army of shivers over her flesh. “A gift of prophecy would have been far easier to explain.”

“Then how did you know those things?”

“Our senses are sharper. We see farther and hear a greater range of sounds.”

That made sense to Katina. She waited but he said no more, so she leaned against him to whisper. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She knew the answer to this. It had to be the same answer she would have given in his place, but she wanted to hear it. She wanted him to realize that they had this fear in common before she shared her secret.

“I was afraid to lose you, if you knew the truth.” Alexander swallowed and looked down at her hand in his. “Not all women would welcome such news of their husband.”

“I think they would if that husband saved them from a beating.” Katina retorted. She’d meant to make him smile, but immediately saw that she had said the wrong thing. Alexander frowned, then released her hand and turned away. He looked over the valley now falling into darkness. He propped his hands on his hips and kept his back to her.

Katina felt as if a wide cold rift had opened between them, then guessed why. “What happened to Cetos?”

“What do you mean?” Alexander’s voice was carefully neutral.

Katina swallowed. She didn’t wish Cetos dead, despite what he had done, but she did want to be with Alexander again. “Am I a widow, free to welcome you again, or not?”

Alexander flicked a hot look her way. “I didn’t kill him.” He was so sure that Katina knew it was true.

Her heart sank. She was still a married woman. “I won’t go back to him,” she said with resolve. “I’ll stay with you.”

Alexander grimaced. “You gave your word to him.”

“You invited me to go with you.”

“That was before...” He frowned and fell silent.

“He raised his hand against me.” Katina felt her lips set even as she folded her arms across her chest. If Alexander was going to be stubborn, she would be more so. “And if I tell him that I welcomed you, he’ll cast me out anyway. Do you mean to hold me to that marriage vow, even though he tried to hurt me?”

To her surprise, Alexander said nothing, although his scowl deepened.

“Don’t you love me anymore?” Katina demanded, needing to hear the truth.

“I have no right to love you,” Alexander said.

It wasn’t the answer she wanted, but it wasn’t the one she’d feared either. “You’d prefer that I went back to Cetos?” she asked, hearing the hurt in her voice. “You just came to seduce me, not to stay?”

“No,” he said with force. “Never that.”

“Then what?”

“I won’t make a promise to you that I might not be able to keep.”

Katina bit her lip and looked over the valley. It was possible that he was bothered by her marriage vow, but she sensed that there was something else, some ethical concern that made him wait. She loved that Alexander was a man of honor, but in this moment, she could wish that he weren’t quite so principled.


Of course, then she wouldn’t love him quite so much.

Then she remembered his earlier confession. “You don’t know if you’ll be able to stay,” she whispered.

Alexander bowed his head.

“You never could lie,” she said softly.

“Not to you.” He looked at her then, his heart in his eyes, and Katina realized she’d have to show him that she’d take every moment she could have with him, and savor it. She’d tried to send him away, fearing that Cetos would injure him, but now that they were away from Cetos, she couldn’t bear to be parted from Alexander.

And she knew now that he could defend himself against any man.

She recognized that his principles would stand between them, along with her marriage vows. As long as Cetos lived and Alexander was uncertain of his future, he wouldn’t touch her. He’d defend her and talk to her, but no more than that.

Katina wanted more. She had to find a way to solve this.

“When will you know about your future?” she asked.

“After I ask the Pythia.”

“We have to go to Delphi, then.”

He nodded.

“The flames, in the sanctuary,” she guessed. “When we first met. I saw them spark between the two of us. I thought it a sign.” Alexander nodded agreement. “It wasn’t a trick, was it? It didn’t have anything to do with the Pythia or the fumes in the temple.”

“It was the light of the firestorm,” Alexander admitted. “The firestorm burns when one of my kind meets his destined mate.”

Katina smiled with new hope. “Then we were destined to be together.”

Alexander shrugged and Katina sensed that, once again, he would protect her from some painful truth. “It’s not such a romantic idea as that. The destined mate is the woman who can bear the Pyr’s son. The flame burns until their match is made.”

Katina looked away, disappointed that the magic of their first encounter had only been about the conception of Lysander. “Did I have a choice?”

“There’s always a choice.”

Katina remembered the heat of the firestorm, the power of her desire and the connection she had felt with Alexander in that potent moment. She remembered the consuming attraction she’d felt for him and wasn’t sure she could have resisted him then, not for any price.

She stole a glance at him and acknowledged that hadn’t changed. She hadn’t been able to resist him on this day, even without the spark of this firestorm.

And she didn’t want to resist him now.

Suddenly, she realized the implication underlying his words.

“Bear his son,” she echoed. “That means Lysander...”

Alexander fixed her with a cool glance that reminded her of the dragon within. “Will be like me,” he confirmed with a calmness that seemed undeserved. “Understand, Katina, that if I hadn’t pledged to serve, then I would never have answered the summons.” His eyes darkened as he watched her, his voice softening. “But if I hadn’t pledged, then I wouldn’t have been in the sanctuary of the temple at Delphi the night you arrived there. I wouldn’t have missed that for all the world.”

There was a lump in Katina’s throat. “No matter how it ends?”

“No matter how it ends, I can’t regret having been with you.”

Katina reached out and took his hand in hers again. “I have no regrets, either.”

Their gazes locked and held for a long moment. That familiar heat rose between them, reminding her that they had never stopped with one mating. She saw the spark of desire brighten in Alexander’s eyes and dared to hope that he might soften in his resolve. She made to take a step closer, to encourage him with a kiss, but Alexander caught his breath sharply.

His entire body stiffened in alarm. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the valley and she saw that faint shimmer of blue around his body.

“What is it?”

“Terror,” he said softly. “Danger.” The blue shimmer brightened and Katina knew what was going to happen.

She tightened her grip on his hand, not wanting to be left behind. “Take me with you.”

His expression turned stubborn. “I won’t endanger you...”

“You said there’s always a choice,” Katina said firmly, interrupting him before he could say more. “I’ve made mine, Alexander. Take me with you.” She stretched up and touched her lips to his, tasting his surprise.

Then he smiled, his eyes glowing. She had a chance to smile back at him before he took a deep breath. She wasn’t alarmed to find her fingers locked around a dragon’s claw. Wings stretching high overhead, he tipped back his head and roared with savage power.

Then Alexander swept her into his embrace and leapt into the sky, his wings beating hard as the ground fell away. His every move was filled with urgency and she guessed that he feared they would arrive too late. She knew he wouldn’t drop her, but she held him tightly all the same. The wind whipped around them and the night air turned cold.

It was when she moved to lean against his chest that she saw the gap in his armor. One scale was missing from the mailed splendor of his chest, leaving a tiny increment of skin exposed.

Katina touched the spot with her fingertip and felt an involuntary shudder roll through Alexander’s body. She looked up to find his gaze locked upon her, his expression all the more intense when he was in this form. She smoothed the spot with her fingertips.

“Does it hurt?” she asked, thinking her words would be snatched away by the wind. To her surprise, Alexander heard her—but then, he had admitted to his sharper senses. He shook his head, so dismissive of the idea that she feared he suddenly had the power to hide the truth from her.

What did the missing scale mean?



* * *



Alexander had smelled Slayer.

Just one tantalizing whiff, as if someone had lifted the lid from a fine hot stew and let one tendril of its scent waft into the room. It was a tease and a temptation.

Again.

It made no sense, but the scent was unmistakable. Alexander knew to trust his nose over his mind—he’d made the mistake of ignoring the information from his senses once already since his return.

Worse, mingled with the scent of Slayer was that of human terror.

What had the darkfire crystal done? It was a source of unpredictability, a connection to chaos, but Alexander couldn’t guess how much power it truly had. Could it rouse dead Slayers? Could it cast all of the Pyr into times and places other than their own, or just Drake’s company of warriors? Could it change the future as well as the past? He wished he knew more of what opponent he faced before he lunged into battle.

“What do you sense?” Katina asked, and Alexander wasn’t surprised that she wanted to know the worst of it. She was clever and might be able to help him to figure out what had happened. He needed to use all the advantages that came his way.

“I smell Slayer,” he said tersely. “That’s one of my kind who has turned against humans.” He shook his head, knowing he had to tell her the rest. “I had a whiff of it earlier, when Cetos returned, but ignored it.”

“Why would you ignore danger?”

“Because it made no sense. There aren’t any Slayers...here.”

“Yet there is one all the same,” Katina said matter-of-factly, much to Alexander’s relief. “What do you know of them?”

He considered her question, trying to recall all he knew of them. He’d had precious little contact with Slayers in the future, by his own choice. Their scent repulsed him, and he had no interest in being tainted by their evil. “He’s revealing his scent at intervals, then disguising it again.”


“Like a taunt.”

“Exactly like a taunt!” She was right. All Pyr taunted each other before battle. He was glad to know what this Slayer wanted, if not why. He’d get a fight from Alexander if he was tormenting a human.

“How does he do that?” Katina asked. “I’d think a scent would be constant.”

“It should be. Only those Slayers who have drunk the Dragon’s Blood Elixir have such power,” Alexander explained. He knew of two surviving Slayers who had consumed that vile potion. Assuming that the darkfire crystal hadn’t roused the dead—an assumption he couldn’t rely upon—it must be Jorge or Chen cast into the past with him.

Or perhaps one of them had pursued him. Chen had released the darkfire in the first place. Was it under his command? Was that why so much was going wrong?

Katina was watching Alexander closely, waiting for him to tell her more. Alexander wasn’t sure how to easily explain the question of passing through time, so stuck with the essentials. “And I smell a human who is terrified.”

“You have to save him,” Katina said immediately. “Put me down anywhere and fight the Slayer. I’ll help as much as possible.” Her practicality made Alexander remember just how much he loved her.

Perhaps they could work together, as some of the modern Pyr worked with their mates. Alexander flew at his quickest speed, following the scent. It was to the south of them, toward Sparta, which wasn’t encouraging at all. That it was being unveiled just for him was an unavoidable conclusion—which made it a lure as well as a taunt.

Lysander was en route to Sparta!

He had time to feel a pang of fear before he saw the blaze of dragonfire on the ground.

“There!” Katina said and gripped his arms.

She’d seen the flame, but wouldn’t discern the detail as well as he did. Alexander could see the dragon battling a Spartan hoplite in full uniform. He saw the dragonfire reflected in the warrior’s greaves and chest plate.

The Slayer was brilliant yellow, a dragon the color of topaz tipped in gold. There was something serpentine about this one, for he was large and powerful, but sinuous and sleek, too.

The color of the scales was telling. Somehow, Jorge was here in his own time. That wasn’t the best news as Jorge was vicious, but at least he didn’t control any old dragon magic.

Chen would have been worse. Alexander had no understanding of magic, be it that of dragons or others, and Chen was a master at dragon magic.

There was no time to be relieved, though. The hoplite slashed at the Slayer with his sword, so much smaller than the dragon that the fight could have only one outcome. The hoplite was valiant, but doomed. Alexander saw that the hoplite defended someone smaller than himself.

A boy.

Alexander prayed it wasn’t the boy he feared it was. “A hoplite fights the Slayer,” he told Katina, then breathed deeply. “There’s a boy. There might be another. His scent is odd, if so. It’s mingled with that of the Slayer in a strange way.”

“Great Zeus, no,” Katina whispered. “Pelias was wearing his hoplite armor when he came for Lysander.”

Alexander inhaled again, only recognizing the half-forgotten scent of his mentor when she supplied the name. “All paths lead to the same place,” he muttered, hating that she was right.

He flew to the far side of the fight, staying low against the ground. He doubted that he could surprise the Slayer if Jorge had invited him, but it was worth a try.

“We’ll appear suddenly from the far side of that outcropping,” he advised Katina softly. He hoped he wasn’t overheard, but there was no other way to communicate with her. “I’ll be downwind and he might be surprised. If so, seize the moment. Take Lysander, then run and hide.”

“And Pelias?”

“I’ll defend him as best I can. You won’t convince him to run.”

Katina nodded, her gaze locked upon the scene below as they came closer. “I’ll hide somewhere too small for a dragon to follow. Somewhere with water.” She pointed to the valley filled with large rocks where there might be water. “Down there.”

It would be a good start, although Alexander was skeptical that any woman could hide from Jorge. He decided not to frighten Katina and merely nodded. “See yourselves safe. I’ll find you wherever you go.”

Katina cast him an unexpected smile. “I know.”

The look in her eyes warmed Alexander’s heart, but there was no time for more discussion. He held her tightly and dove behind the outcropping, like a spear falling out of the night.

The Slayer seized the hoplite’s sword and flung it aside, then breathed a long stream of dragonfire at his opponent. Pelias held up his shield to defend himself. The red plume in Pelias’ helmet caught fire, and he bowed low as if injured. Jorge leapt forward to snatch at him, clearly hoping to triumph.

But Pelias straightened abruptly. The dagger in his hand flashed even as he lunged at the dragon. He covered his eyes, leaping through the dragonfire with incredible valor. Alexander caught a glimpse of the determination in Pelias’ expression and the fear in the eyes of the boy who lingered behind him.

A boy who looked much like Alexander. Terror for his son was a cold weight in Alexander’s gut. He put Katina down without landing, glad to hear Jorge snarl in pain.

Any weakness would help.

When he rose higher, he saw Jorge’s black blood spill and heard it hiss as it hit the ground. Only Slayers had black blood. Were the Slayers who had drunk the Elixir really immortal? Did they actually heal with unholy speed? Alexander tried to remember all the stories he’d heard about them, none of the details reassuring him in the least. He faltered when he caught the scent of death on Jorge, the scent of Cetos’ death, and knew that his mate was reliant upon him again.

Even though he could guarantee her so little. He didn’t dare rejoice that she was a widow, not when she could become a widow twice over in one night.

Alexander refused to despair in the face of the unpredictability of darkfire and the malice of a Slayer. He focused on the task of defeating Jorge.

Jorge roared with fury and slashed at Pelias with his claws. Pelias leapt backward, snatching up his shield in the nick of time. Jorge’s stream of dragonfire was deflected by the shield and turned back on the Slayer, who roared in fury. Alexander leapt over the rock and struck the Slayer in the back of the head with his tail while he was distracted. Jorge stumbled then turned with a snarl, leaping into the air to fight.

Pelias had fallen to his knees. Alexander caught a glimpse of Katina running toward Lysander, then locked claws with Jorge, intent upon drawing him away from the humans.

He noticed immediately that the Slayer’s wings weren’t as large or as strong as they should be. He beat his own wings hard and drew Jorge high into the night sky. He wound his tail around Jorge’s yellow one and tightened his grip, wanting to squeeze the life out of this evil dragon. He saw the glimmer of malice in the Slayer’s eyes, even as he bent forward to bite at his opponent’s chest.

The hoplite had managed to wound Jorge, no small feat, his dagger blade having slipped between two scales on the Slayer’s chest. Black blood still oozed from the wound, dripping over the golden splendor of his scales.

“Sure you want to take a bite?” Jorge drawled, his modern accent startling Alexander. His eyes gleamed. “I’ve drunk the Dragon’s Blood Elixir. One sip and you’re hooked forever.”


“I thought you wanted more immortal Slayers.”

“But there’s no more Elixir. I don’t need the competition. Find another snack.” Jorge lurched sideways, tearing one claw out of Alexander’s grip. Alexander slashed at his opponent’s chest with his free claw, and the Slayer arched his back with the pain. Three long lines were torn in his scales, the black blood running freely from the wounds. Alexander dug his talons in deep, ensuring that he made the blow count. The Slayer’s eyes flashed, then he ripped his tail free, striking Alexander hard across the back.

Alexander spun, using the weight of the blow, then seized one of those small wings. It felt fragile and weak, so he ripped it from the Slayer’s back.

He knew the other wing wouldn’t be robust enough to support the Slayer’s weight and Jorge clearly knew it, too. He became vicious in his attack, but Alexander flung him into the sky. The Slayer swore eloquently as he fell, flailing as he tried to slow his descent with his one small wing. Alexander flew after him and roasted his back with dragonfire. The second wing began to burn and become smaller, even as Jorge screamed and swore.

He twisted to face Alexander, then exhaled a long plume of dragonsmoke. Alexander knew exactly what the Slayer was trying to do. Dragonsmoke could act as a conduit, stealing energy from its target and feeding that strength to the dragon who breathed the smoke. Alexander evaded the tendril of smoke, flying farther and farther from the Slayer to do so.

“An interesting strategy,” he taunted in old-speak. “You ensure that I can’t save you from a fatal fall.”

“I’ll ensure that I survive it on my own.”

“Your plan doesn’t seem to be working.”

Jorge laughed. “Only because you mistake my target.” He turned then and directed his long trail of dragonsmoke toward the earth. The smoke turned and dove downward, as sinuous as a snake. Alexander had never seen dragonsmoke change direction so adroitly.

“Stand up,” Jorge roared aloud even as he fell, and a small boy stumbled to his feet. This was the scent that had confused Alexander, the human scent that had been submerged beneath the Slayer’s own. Did that mean the boy was in Jorge’s thrall?

How? Why?

The boy was pale and thin, as if he had lost weight and health recently. His eyes seemed to be too large for his face and his submissiveness was unnatural. He obediently stood and turned his face upward, then closed his eyes to wait. Alexander was struck that the child moved as if he were in a dream.

The dragonsmoke plummeted toward the boy, aiming directly at his chest. The boy staggered at the impact, but didn’t appear to be surprised by it. He straightened and braced his feet against the ground, as if preparing for a familiar ordeal. Alexander watched the line of dragonsmoke and thought of a viper burying its teeth deep and drinking of the boy’s essence. Sucking him dry. The line of dragonsmoke became thicker and less ethereal, even as Alexander watched, and he was horrified that he might be right.

He looked back at Jorge to find that Slayer grinning. His wing had already grown stronger, because he was able to slow his descent. There was a nub already growing where the other wing had been torn away. Alexander was watching the new wing form.

Jorge’s eyes shone as he landed beside the boy. The boy was wilting visibly even as the Slayer regained his power. Jorge took one last deep breath, then broke the line of dragonsmoke with obvious regret. His scales shone more brightly, as if they had been polished, and the blood had stopped flowing on his chest. Even those wounds seemed to be closing already.

“A wonderful discovery,” Jorge said in his gloating tone. He patted the boy on the head. “I fed him the Elixir, knowing that a rapidly growing boy would make more blood and thus more Elixir for me. He’s already repaid me ten times over.”

Alexander landed warily, pretending not to see Pelias—or be aware that the warrior was still alive. He could hear Pelias’ pulse, slow and steady, and his breathing. The older man was injured but not dead. Alexander wasn’t sure he could save either Pelias or this boy, but was glad there was no sign of Katina or Lysander. He assessed the scent of the boy carefully.

“Yes,” the Slayer agreed. “He is Pyr, or he would have been.” He smiled down at the boy. “Theo, say hello to one of the Dragon’s Tooth Warriors.” Theo just blinked slowly. “This is one of the men commanded by your father, Theo, unless I miss my guess.”

This was Drake’s son! Alexander couldn’t completely hide his surprise or dismay, and the Slayer chuckled. “What kind of vermin takes advantage of someone weaker than himself?” he demanded before he could stop himself.

“What kind of fools leave their sons undefended?”

“Those who serve for the good of all.”

Jorge smiled. “How many boys did you all leave behind?” he hissed, clearly not expecting an answer. “All those young Pyr, devoid of fathers and training and protection.” He was gleeful at the prospect. “I intend to find them all and put them to work, creating Elixir and energy for me to heal. I’ll get all my power back!” His grin broadened. “And if there are mates to sample along the way, I assure you that they won’t be overlooked.”

Alexander felt sick. “What happened to Cassandra?” he demanded, referring to Drake’s wife.

“Tell him, Theo,” the Slayer invited, his jovial manner no doubt untrustworthy. “What happened to your mother?”

The boy shuddered from head to toe. He lifted agonized eyes to Alexander. “She’s dead, sir.”

Alexander was glad that Drake wasn’t present to see the devastation in his son’s eyes.

“I’ve discovered a taste for mate,” Jorge said, his voice so low and silky that Alexander couldn’t suppress a shudder. He had no sooner hoped that this fiend was oblivious to Katina’s presence than the Slayer turned to scan the rocky hilltop, his nostrils working. “Where have the other mate and young Pyr gone? Is she yours?” Jorge grinned. “Maybe I’ll let you watch.”



* * *



Katina had urged Lysander into a low and rocky place, one that was dark and wet. She could smell the water there and felt safer in the shadows.

Her son didn’t share her view.

“I want to see!” Lysander protested, when Katina would have made him duck low in their hiding place.

“We have to stay safe,” she insisted. “I promised your father.”

“My father! Is that who the dark dragon is?” At this news, it was even harder to hold her son back. “Pelias said that my father had a gift and that I might have it, too.”

“What did Pelias tell you?”

“That my father was Spartan, which I knew, so that I needed to go to the agoge and train to be a warrior. But he said that my father was an elite warrior, and that he would watch me to see if I had my father’s powers.”

“Did he tell you what those powers were?”

“He said that my father was Pyr, and that the Pyr are charged with the task of defending the four elements and the treasures of the earth, which include mankind. He said that the Pyr can change shape, that they are touched by the grace of the gods, and can become ferocious dragons.”

It was clear that Lysander aspired to this ability, but Katina was more surprised by how much Pelias knew and had told him. Even so, she was glad to learn more about Alexander’s powers. Had he married her because he was supposed to defend the four elements? “He knew all this? He told you all of this already?”


“The very first day,” Lysander said. “I was sad to leave home, but he told me I had responsibilities.” Her son’s eyes lit. “Mama, I have to see! I might learn something.”

“You should stay here and be safe,” Katina said sternly, even though she was curious herself. Lysander wriggled out of her grip and crept to the lip of the cave she’d chosen.

“Pelias is injured!” he whispered in horror.

“No!” Katina crept to her son’s side, holding him back even as the two dragons fought in the air high above.

“And there’s a boy.” Lysander pointed. “He looks sick.”

Katina squinted at the darkness and could barely discern the silhouette of a child’s figure. She couldn’t have said whether it was a boy or a girl.

“I wonder what that silver thread was.”

“What silver thread?” Katina couldn’t see a silver thread. The child was wavering on his feet, even as the yellow dragon landed beside him. She could see that Pelias had fallen and that Alexander had positioned himself between the hoplite and the yellow dragon.

“I can’t quite hear what they’re saying,” Lysander murmured in obvious frustration.

Katina cast a glance at the sky because she heard the distant rumble of thunder. The sky was cloudless, though, which confused her.

“That boy’s Theo, the son of father’s commander,” Lysander whispered.

Katina looked at him in wonder. “How do you know this?”

“They said so,” he informed her with disdain, as if she hadn’t been paying attention. Lysander suddenly ducked back into hiding beside her, his face pale. “The yellow dragon wants to capture all the sons of the elite company.” His voice dropped to a whisper and he huddled against Katina. “Like me.”

She held her son close, fearful that the Slayer would do as he threatened. The yellow dragon lifted his head and surveyed his surroundings, his gaze landing precisely on their hiding spot. Katina had the definite sense that he could see her, even though she was far away and well hidden.

She crouched down and hugged Lysander close. “Would his hearing be sharp enough to hear us?” she demanded, barely giving breath to the words.

Lysander met her gaze in horror. “He already knows where we are,” he said, then his features set with resolve. “I need to see.” He crept up to the edge of the cave to look again. “More silver thread,” he whispered. “But this time, the dark dragon is making it. It’s like a noose of starlight.”

Katina had to look then, but she still couldn’t see any silver thread.

“He’s got a scale,” Lysander murmured as the yellow Slayer displayed something to the dark dragon. Katina looked at her son, awed by his keen vision.

He was Pyr.

Before she could say anything, Lysander winced then, burying his face in his knees. “Papa,” he murmured when Katina bent over him. “Oh, Papa!”

What was wrong? Katina peeked over the lip of stone to see that Alexander was writhing on the ground. The amount of blood running from the wounds on his chest was frightening, and he seemed powerless to stop himself from changing from dragon to human form and back again.

What had that fiend done to Alexander? She was so horrified that she was barely aware of Lysander peeking over the lip of stone beside her.

“Papa!” Lysander cried. He leapt over the lip of stone and ran toward the fighting dragons.

“Lysander!” Katina gasped, then raced after her son.

Alexander had wanted to keep them safe, but she was sure they’d all be lost.