Chapter 33
They ran across the ankle-high grass. A shadow passed over them, and Caitlyn swooped down to fly in front of them.
That was the whole team safe, so far. Flynn, still carrying Mayah, looked around for Emon. There was no sign of the black dragon, which might be just as well. He didn’t know anywhere they could gate to with an insane dragon who wouldn’t turn human.
He’d help Kira look for him later. Right now, the black dragon was better off than they were. They had to get their asses over that ridge. With Ragnor unable to give them orders, maybe the hellhounds wouldn’t chase them.
Damn it to hell, he’d jinxed them.
Behind them, faint howls ripped the air. Flynn risked a glance behind them. There were almost a dozen of them, bounding over the grass impossibly fast.
Six of them split off, three on the right and three on the left, circling around to get in front of them.
Oh, hell no. “Sloan!”
“I see them.” Sloan tossed a grenade to Caitlyn, who caught it in her talons and flew off to the right. Sloan lobbed another to the left.
Twin explosions, and the hellhounds flanking them flew through the air. But the others were almost on them.
They stopped and faced them down—Sloan and Flynn with bullets, Kira with magic. She was a warrior goddess, lightning flashing from her hands. They sent the hounds flying back, and started running again.
There were more howls behind them. They kept running.
The ground started to slope up, and the going was slower. Just a little further. Less than a quarter of a mile.
The howls grew louder, until they were a wild chorus of sound. They all slowed, stopped and turned.
Ragnor was galloping toward them on a giant beast—some kind of enormous six-legged reptile. Surrounding him was his army of hellhounds.
He came to a stop at the bottom of the slope, his magically augmented voice booming out. “You cannot escape. Surrender now, before my hounds tear you to pieces!”
Sloan panted, “Can we cross over yet?”
Kira shook her head. “And even from a standstill, they’ll be on us before we reach the top.”
“Caitlyn,” Flynn ordered. “Fly Sloan out.”
She landed and Changed, shaking her head. “No. We’re not leaving you.”
Flynn put all his alpha juice into his command. “Do it!”
Her face mutinous, Caitlyn Changed back to owl and grasped Sloan’s upper arms with her talons. She beat her wings, rising off the ground.
Ragnor said, “You have five seconds.”
Flynn turned to Kira. “I love you,” he said. “No regrets.”
He could see the tears that burned in her eyes, but she held them back. “No regrets. I love you.”
He slid Mayah to the ground, raised his weapon, and fired into the army of hellhounds.
As they surged forward, he heard another roar—but this one was behind him. A huge, ringing battle cry, as if from a hundred voices.
The hellhounds slowed down, looking past Flynn toward the top of the ridge. He turned.
Cresting the ridge was an army of shifters, animal and human. Leading the charge was Jace Monroe, alpha of the Silverlake pack, with his mate Emma at his side, dressed for battle. Kane Colton of the Silverlake Enforcers. Jesse Travis of Silverlake flanked by a tiger and a coal-black wolf—his mate Sophia and his best friend Rafe, leading all their warriors, in wolf and human form. And Donnie Jenkins of the Hunter Mountain pack, with all his wolves at his back.
And the Bad Bloods. Xander and Jenny in black panther form, flowing down the ridge like demons from hell. Jasmin and Brody in their full-on pure white battle forms, Monster Wolf and Monster Kitty, power crackling from their hides. Tank, the Protector Bear, big as a house and glowing with silver magic.
Weapons fire crackled overhead, as the Enforcers mowed down the first wave of hellhounds. Flynn heard the thump and whistle of a grenade launcher, and the ground exploded right in front of Ragnor, sending him and his reptile steed flying through the air. There was a whoop of triumph, and Flynn saw Rafe Connors’ mate, sweet, soft-spoken Terin, raise her fist in triumph before reloading the launcher.
The shifters surged past him and Kira, and Flynn saw more friends. Noah and Mina Reilly. Tristan, white wolf, friend and brother. Ravens, and another grizzly.
They roared down the hill past him, and met the hellhounds with a clash of weapons and teeth and claws.
Kira stared in awe. “Holy fuck.”
The hellhounds fought, but they were outnumbered and outgunned. It looked like it was all going to be over in a few minutes, until Flynn saw a flash of black lightning, and heard Ragnor’s voice boom out in the ancient language of the draken.
From over the castle, three shapes rose into the sky, fiery red with wings.
Dragons. He had fucking dragons after all.
Fire dragons could burn this whole army to ash. “They’re going to get slaughtered,” Flynn whispered.
Kira wheeled around, looking back at the ridge. “Or not.”
Over the ridge rose a cobalt-blue dragon, shining in the dawn light. Her great wings flapped, sending debris-filled wind down the slope, her flight path taking her on an intercept course with the red dragons.
Ashley.
She hurtled toward the red dragons, trumpeting a battle cry. Two of them headed toward her, but the third swooped down on the battle, drawing in its breath to breathe fire.
Flynn shouted, but in the clash of battle, no one could hear him. Then, out of nowhere, a great black shape dropped out of the sky, straight at the red dragon.
It was Emon.
He hit the red dragon before it could spout fire, tangling its wings, slashing with his claws. The red dragon roared with pain and rage, barely managing to disengage before they hit the ground.
It beat its wings hard, swooping so close overhead Flynn could smell the sulfur stink of its scales. It breathed fire at Emon, who dodged out of the way before dropping on it again.
He was still muzzled with silver, still unable to breathe fire of his own. But he fought valiantly, even as the other dragon’s fire enveloped him.
“He can’t stand against that,” Kira said. “And Ashley can’t fight two of them.”
Flynn could see her battling, aided by Rachelle Colton in her ki-rin form—black winged horse with a serpent’s head. Israel Jonas, flashing blue magic from the Dragonstone embedded in his palm, was trying to make his way to Ragnor.
And it still might not be enough. “I have to help them,” Kira said frantically. He could see blue light crackling around her now, her magic straining to get loose. Mayah moaned at their feet.
One of the dragons fighting Ashley broke off, circling upward. The ki-rin followed, but she couldn’t catch up. Flynn knew it was going to dive down, bringing flaming death with it.
Kira felt the power surging through her. She could see it in her mind’s eye, the trail of ash and destruction the red dragon would bring. Flynn’s friends, and hers. His family. The people who’d put their lives on the line for her.
Wiped out.
No more. The Al-Maddeiri couldn’t let armies die for them any more.
“Flynn!” she cried. “The dragon! I have to stop it! Give me the power!”
He stared at her. “I don’t know how!”
But she did. Ragnor had told her the way.
Blood and magic.
She drew her knife and slashed it across the palm of the hand that wore the bracelet. The power was pushing at her now, demanding to be free.
Flynn grabbed the knife from her and sliced his own palm. Then he clasped her hand, palm to palm, blood to blood.
But instead of taking, like Ragnor had, he gave.
Power arced through her. A column of blue magic burst into the air. She felt bonds breaking, snapping inside her, and a rush like a roaring waterfall.
She could feel him arch in pain, the magic burning through his nerve endings. And still he gave, all his heart, all his soul, all his strength and love.
Kira felt the Change happen. Her bones melted and turned to molten fire. Her hands and feet became claws. Her body grew, great black wings sprouting from her back.
She launched herself into the air, and Flynn crumpled to the ground. She wanted to go back, to touch him, to heal him, but the red dragon had reached the peak of its climb and was hurtling down towards the battle.
“NO!”
The word reverberated through her. There was a thunderous ‘boom,’ and magic burst out from her like an explosion. Twin blue arcs shot through the air—one to Emon, still battling the red dragon, and the other back down toward the ground where Mayah lay.
The Al-Maddeiri magic finding its way home.
The red dragon screamed down at her in a steep, terrifying dive. Kira gave a great heave of her brand-new wings and threw herself into his path, feeling his body strike her, tumbling her over and over in the air.
Flynn sank to the ground, his body on fire. Everything inside him had been hollowed out, streaming into her.
His dragon. His love. She glowed, all her power coming home to her, and then bursting out into her dragon form.
She was breathtaking. Black as night, every scale lined with the red-gold of the rising sun. Full of power and love, exactly the way she was always meant to be.
He sank to the ground next to Mayah, brittle as a dead leaf, to be crushed and blown away on the breeze.
But death never came. Instead, a bolt of blue magic came out of the sky, enveloping him and Mayah.
He thought he’d felt pain before, but this was something else. Agony. Power. Voices—a thousand voices from a thousand dragons, all calling his name.
Mayah, glowing blue, erupted into dragon form, launching herself into the sky. Above him, he saw Emon surrounded by magic, his silver muzzle evaporating away, his wounds healing.
The three draken of Al-Maddeiri screamed in triumph, and flew into battle.
Flynn dragged himself to his feet. The battle still raged below him; the voices screamed within him. The power had burned away his clothes, and the grass beneath had turned to ash. He glowed with blue flame.
The blue and black dragons had the red ones on the run. The hellhounds were falling back. And yet, Flynn could feel something wrong. That prickle between his shoulder blades…he could feel it even through the raging magic…
He whirled around, just in time to see Ragnor step out of a rift in space. Of course. It was his valley—the wards didn’t apply to him.
Without thinking, Flynn swung at him, wielding the blue magic like a sword. Ragnor barely ducked in time.
“You think to best me, Lion? The transfer of magic is not yet complete. If I kill you, I weaken them all.”
Flynn circled him, poised to attack. He beckoned to Ragnor with his fingers, grinning like a fucking maniac. “Come on, Wizard Boy.”
Black lightning slashed at him, and he blocked it with blue. They locked together, magic to magic. Flynn could feel his bones melting, his nerve endings exploding from power they were never meant to handle.
His body was dissolving, only sheer will and magic keeping him in human form.
Ragnor pressed his magic against Flynn’s—an experienced wizard against raw power. Flynn felt that evil ice slithering into him.
And this time he fought, not with rage, but with love. Kira. Everything he felt, everything she was to him. All the love he wished he’d given her poured into the power and shaped it into a weapon. He beat back Ragnor’s icy magic, turned the hatred and greed and lust for power back on its owner.
Ragnor fell back a step, and Flynn pushed his advantage. He was burning up, dying, but he wasn’t going out without taking down Ragnor first.
Ragnor, with his secret lab and his torture chamber and his belief he could just fucking take whatever he wanted.
Not Flynn. Not Kira. Not her family. His love was a shield and a weapon, bolstered up by the power of all the Al-Maddeiri who had come before him.
He was one of them now, and he would avenge them all.
He saw the look on Ragnor’s face change as he felt the power. It poured out of Flynn into him, and he couldn’t hold it. The magic, mixed with love, hit the core of his dark magic and detonated.
Ragnor went up in a column of flame, screaming. His body crumbled under Flynn’s hands, and then he was gone.
Flynn stood for a moment, staring at the piece of black scorched earth where the sorcerer had been.
And then, very slowly, he crumpled to the ground.
Dimly, he heard dragons roaring, flames crackling, guns firing, wolves howling and hellhounds screaming.
After a long time, the sounds of the battle ceased. People gathered around him—he didn’t know who, he couldn’t see. There were just hands and concerned voices. Blood trickled from his ears, his nose, and his internal organs felt like they’d been turned to mush.
Someone called for a healer, but he knew that wouldn’t help. His body was never meant to channel that kind of power. Not without the protections of the unbinding spell. Hell, maybe not even then.
But he’d saved Kira. And the House of Al-Maddeiri, though he’d died doing it. Who knew he’d fulfill that damned oath after all.
He wished he could stick around for the glory.
A huge shadow rushed over him, and then he heard Kira’s voice. “Flynn. Oh my god. Ashley? We need healers!”
Flynn tried to shake his head, but he couldn’t. “Won’t…help,” he said. He tried to keep his eyes open, so he could see her face.
She slapped him, hard. “Oh, no, Lion. Stay awake. You do not get to die on me now.”
“With…you,” he said. “What…a way…to go.”
“Dammit!” she yelled. “Do not give up!”
Never give up. Never say die.
He felt cold metal as she snapped her bracelet around his wrist. She rubbed her hands in her own blood, grabbed his wrists over the bracelets, and said, “On my life and on my honor, I pledge myself to the Lion of Al-Maddeiri.”
What the hell? That was the Oath of the Lion Guard. He was supposed to be giving it to her, not the other way around. Except he was dying…
“With all that I am, and all that I have, I will protect and fight for you and yours. My claws your weapons, my body your shield. My life and my magic, yours, until I die, or the House of Al-Maddeiri is no more.”
She bent and kissed him on the mouth.
The burning stopped. The flow of life force out of him stopped, reversed. Strength and healing flowed from her into him, filling him up.
A golden glow surrounded them, warm as the spring sun, cool as fresh water. It rushed through him, knitting bone and muscle, tingling down nerve endings, healing him from the inside out.
His wounds closed. Then, with a cleansing ripple, all the blood and dirt sloughed off his body, leaving him clean and new.
Holy hell.
He stared up at Kira, fierce and wild and beautiful. “You just pledged yourself to protect me. A binding oath. For life.”
She smiled, and it lit up his heart. “Hell yeah, Lion. Now you’re stuck with me. Sucks to be you.”
He grinned back. “I think I can live with it.” He sat up, looking around at the rows of shifters staring down at him, and beyond them, the aftermath of the battle.
He looked back at Kira. “Any thoughts about moving to Tahiti?”