Dragonsworn (Dark-Hunter #28)

Ah, God, please tell me it’s not …

Falcyn swallowed hard as fear gripped him with an icy hand. “Medea?”

“Yes?”

Relief poured through him so fast that he saw stars from it.

Okay, everyone seemed to be the same.

And that was not helpful. He still had no idea what had happened to his child.

If Maddor wasn’t Maddor, and everyone else was who they were supposed to be, what could have happened to his …

His thought trailed off as the one and only answer dawned on him.

Fuck me.

Stunned and more fearful than he’d have ever thought possible, he turned toward the only rational explanation.

Dear gods no …

And yet, there was no other option.

Maddor was the Black Crom.

Demonic laughter echoed around them. “Took you long enough to figure it out, dragon. Thank you for the upgrade.”





16

My son is the Crom. Falcyn cursed himself for the spell that had gone all kinds of wrong.

In all his evil glory, Maddor reared his black horse before them. Pawing in the air, the horse screamed and blew its demonic fire. Maddor uncoiled his whip and cracked it at Falcyn.

Instinctively, he grabbed the bony spines that wrapped around his forearm, biting deep in his flesh, and leaving a bleeding welt. It took everything he had not to snatch his son from the back of the horse and drag him over the ground to beat sense into him.

No one attacked Falcyn with impunity.

No one except his son and grandson. For them alone he would bleed.

Medea saw the bloodlust in Falcyn’s eyes. She fully expected him to jerk the Crom off and beat him down. So when he let go of the whip and stepped back, her jaw went slack.

From what little she knew of her dragon, retreat and mercy weren’t in him.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“I was only trying to save him.” Falcyn’s voice was barely audible.

Meanwhile the Crom made no move to leave and go after the ones Brogan had named earlier. “Why can’t I kill you?”

“You’re not tasked with it.” Brogan approached him slowly. “The Black Crom can only take the lives I decree. No others.”

He started to charge her.

The horse threw him to the ground before it snorted fire and shook its head to let him know it would have no part in what he’d intended. Maddor rolled and landed in an undignified heap.

Brogan scoffed as Maddor rose up in front of her and again recoiled off an invisible wall that prevented him from assaulting her. “You can’t harm me in this realm. At least not physically. It’s why I wanted out of the other one so badly. You can only do me harm in our home. I’m your voice, though how it is that you can now speak on your own is beyond me. No Crom should have that power, in any world.”

Lombrey solidified in front of them. “When you broke the seal, you mingled their lives. He’s neither a mandrake nor a true Dullahan now.”

“He’s other … like me.” Urian sighed.

Nodding, Lombrey bit his lip. “So it would seem.”

Maddor cursed. “I want my body back so that I can kick your ass, old man!”

“And people in hell want ice water.” Brandor smirked at him. “Guess we’re all screwed.”

Maddor lunged at him.

Snorting, Brandor sidestepped his attack and tripped him since he couldn’t harm Brandor either. “Though I can’t say as I blame you. ’Cause no offense, Maddie, you looked a lot better with a head on your shoulders than you do like this. You were always a freak, but never more so than what you are right now as you search about for that little head on a whip.”

Falcyn grabbed Maddor to stop his advance as he moved for Brandor’s throat. “I’ll get this straightened out.”

“How? You’re the one who screwed it up!”

“I am, but I’m the best chance you have.”

With a fierce scoff, Maddor shoved him away. “And why would you help me? Why didn’t you just kill me?”

Medea wasn’t sure which of them was the most stunned by his question.

Falcyn snapped his head back as if he’d been physically slapped. “You’re my son. Why wouldn’t I?”

Now it was Maddor’s turn to act stunned—at least that was what she assumed. Though to be honest, it was hard to tell when he had no head or facial expressions to judge by. Rather, he stood there, stock-still. “What? Bullshit! You’re not my father! You’re lying!”

Falcyn was completely baffled. “You said Morgen told you everything.”

“Aye! She said that you murdered my mother for protecting me, and left me to die!”

Falcyn’s jaw went slack. Those words cold-cocked him. “I killed your mother when she came to gloat to me about selling you, our child, my son, to Morgen to torture me over what she’d done to you! Think about it. How else would I’ve had access to her, since I’ve been banned from this realm since before you were born?”

Deflating before their very eyes, Maddor stepped back in uncertainty. “I-I don’t understand.”

“It’s true, Maddor. At least I think you’re Maddor. Falcyn sent me here to watch over you. I’m the one who goaded her into going to Falcyn, hoping he’d be able to get to you and help you out of here. I didn’t count on his overreaction that would result in her death. Guess I should have.”

That unexpected, sweet, lilting voice went through Falcyn like a knife.

No.

It couldn’t be.…

His heard pounding, he turned to see Sarraxyn. Pale and standing on unsteady feet, she had one arm braced against the wall nearest her.

“Xyn? Is it really you?”

She gave him a wan smile. “Greetings, brother.”

His own limbs shaking, he crossed the room to gather her into his arms. “How?”

“I don’t know. One minute I was frozen, and then I was here. Wherever this is.”

Closing his eyes, Falcyn fisted his hand in her long, flame-red hair that parted to show off her pointed ears. Her translucent, vibrant green gaze seared him. And she was still one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

She clutched at his back. “I know.” Kissing his cheek, she pulled back to stare at Maddor. “He is your father, Maddor. Just as Blaise is your son.”

That sucked every bit of the air from the room and had the same impact as a nuclear bomb detonating in their midst.

Blaise stumbled back. “W-w-w-what?”

Falcyn ground his teeth at the way she told him something he’d have been much more delicate with.

Xyn nodded. “I was there when you were born. Your mother was furious, thinking your albinism had to do with Max’s curse.”

“What curse?”

Falcyn winced as she unwittingly spilled the beans. “I never told Blaise the truth, Xyn.” For a reason—as the last thing he’d wanted was to hurt him.

Her jaw went slack. “I’m so sorry. I assumed he knew.”

Falcyn shook his head. “By the time I learned about his birth, he was grown. I didn’t have the heart to tell him then. Thanks, sister. You were always good at ratting me out.”

Maddor sat down. “Blaise is my son? How?”

Xyn sighed. “Ormarra. She hid her pregnancy from you and was hoping to parlay Blaise’s birth to her advantage.”