Saved by a Dragon (Sample)

Prologue

Many Centuries Ago...

The world around me seemed like it had erupted in flames and smoke. Everywhere I looked was fire. Destruction. Death. The world was littered with bodies that had been ravaged. Torn open. Split apart.

The War of the Three Stones had been raging for what seemed like forever – but in reality, had been just over a year. But the war, being waged between three of the major Clans – Fire, Ice, and Sand – had ravaged our world of Chondelai.

And for what?

There had been very little gain for any of the Clans. Nobody had gained or lost territories. Nobody had pushed any of the Clans’ major houses into exile – or wiped them all out.

We'd been fighting, killing, and dying for over a year with no real gain.

I stood upon the ramparts of the castle, looking out at the land below. What had once been lush, green, beautiful land, was now scorched, and dying. Everything below seemed like it was on fire and through the smoke, I watched as the winged shapes of my brothers swooped and dove, cleaning up the last of the stragglers – the air around me vibrating with the deafening roar of dragons, and the pained screaming of men –bringing this skirmish to an end.

It had been a small force from the Sand Clan who'd tried to storm the castle. They were simply testing our defenses, seeing if this war of attrition had weakened us enough to justify sending a bigger force.

It was a tactic we'd all used. And to that point, all our defenses remained stout. Sooner or later though, one of the Clans was going to have to break if this damn war was ever going to end.

“Jyta, what are you doing up here? It's not safe.”

I turned and looked into the face of my best friend, Klont. He was a good man. A good soldier. I valued him above all others.

“Relax, brother,” I said. “The men are cleaning up the last of the Sands. I'm as safe here as I am anywhere.”

I turned and looked back out at the world below. I was the King of the Fire Clan and Commander of the Golden Legion – my clan's fiercest warriors. Klont was my second in command. My right hand. There was nobody in our entire army I would have rather gone to war with.

“A scout just returned,” he said. “The Sands are bringing in reinforcements. They'll be here any minute.”

I nodded and sighed. Clearly, we weren't done fighting for the day. “Gather the men,” I said. “Have them ready.”

“Right away.”

I watched Klont turn and walk away to round up the men. I turned and looked at the carnage on the field before me. Our once beautiful world, torn asunder by greed and unchecked ambition; I felt nothing but revulsion and disgust. Chondelai had been a beautiful place once. A paradise.

But we'd gone and destroyed the whole thing. Even when this war ended, I had no idea how long it would take the scars from our fighting to heal. Or if they ever would. More than that though, I had to wonder what kind of world Chondelai would be once the war was over. That, I supposed, depended upon who won.

I sensed the beast before I saw it. Looking up, I saw the massive dragon descending from the thick columns of smoke before me. The beast was right on top of me and getting lower. I was just about to shift into my own dragon form, ready to fight, when I noticed that the Sand dragon was alone.

If this was all the Sands had in the way of reinforcements, they were in a world of trouble.

I was curious. Curious as to why one of the Sands would choose to show up – alone. I held myself back from shifting, trying to quench the fire and lust for battle that burned through my veins.

The dragon descended, lowering itself onto the ramparts of the castle, and shifted into his human form. We stood about ten feet apart from one another, staring at each other in silence for several long moments.

“I'm not sure whether it's the height of bravery or the depth of foolishness for you to come here alone,” I said.

“I am Uldor,” he said. “Commander of the Scorpion Brigade and I do not come to fight. I come to have a conversation with you, your Majesty, nothing more.”

Uldor was tall, a head taller than me, and had long dark hair. With his broad shoulders, powerful arms and a thick, wide chest, he radiated power and strength. I wondered how I would fare against him in hand to hand combat. Wondered if I even stood a chance against him in our dragon forms.

Klont and half a dozen other warriors arrived on the ramparts, still armored, carrying spears and swords. I held my hand up to stop them from advancing.

“Lower your weapons,” I said.

My men did as they were told, but Klont stepped up beside me, sheathing his sword. He gave me a look that told me he wanted to say something, but he wisely held his tongue.

“What is it you want, Commander?” I asked. “Why do you come to my castle alone? Especially after your raiding party killed two of my men. Your raiders were wiped out, by the way.”

He sighed and looked to the ground, shaking his head. “They were instructed to relay my message,” he said. “I had heard they did not do that and acted on their own – which is why I am here of my own accord.”

“You Sands have killed a lot of our brothers and sisters,” Klont hissed. “Give me one reason why we should not strike you down where you stand.”

Uldor looked up and I saw the flash of anger and defiance in his eyes. “We've killed no less than you of the Fire Clan have,” he said. “War is a terrible, terrible thing that costs many lives. Far too many of them. But let us not compound that tragedy or dishonor our dead with hypocrisy.”

Klont looked to me but fell silent. I looked at the man before me, my curiosity only growing stronger. It was quite a risk for an enemy to show up uninvited – and alone. The fact that he was one of the Sand's key commanders only compounded that risk. It made me wonder what was his real agenda.

“Speak,” I said. “What is it you want?”

“I am taking the risk I am because some things are more important than our living or dying,” he said.

I smirked. “I can't think of anything more important to me than living, Uldor,” I said.

He eyed me carefully, his expression inscrutable. Unreadable. I found myself intensely curious about what the man was thinking.

“Is your life more important than the lives of all of the dragonborn living in Chondelai?”

I cocked my head and looked at him. “What are you talking about?”

“King Wotul,” he said. “He's gone mad. He's going to break our world if he is not stopped.”

I cocked my head and stared at the man, not sure what he was going on about. Wotul had been the one who'd started the war and had taken to killing the other dragonborn with such zeal. I knew his greed and lust for power were insatiable – but breaking the world?

“I don't even know what that means, Uldor,” I admitted.

The man looked at me with an urgency that bordered on madness himself. His entire body was tense – though not like he was about to strike. His madness was born of fear. But what could he possibly fear so badly?

“The Shongtal,” Uldor said, his voice low, intense. “He's speaking of releasing the Shongtal to aid him in his fight.”

I felt a knot form in my stomach and constrict painfully as he spoke. I looked to Klont who stared back at me with wide eyes, reflecting the fear I was sure were in my own.

“A – are you certain of this?” I asked.

Uldor nodded and then looked away, hesitant to speak for a moment. But then I saw his jaw tighten and his hands clench into fists at his sides.

“I know this because I accompanied my King to a meeting with Wotul,” he said. “An alliance was discussed for the purposes of defeating you.”

I chuckled and shook my head, though Klont tensed up beside me and placed his hand on the palm of his sword. I clapped him on the shoulder giving him a look of fierce pride.

“I shall take that as a badge of honor, Commander,” I said. “That the Ice and Sand Clans would need to marshal their forces together to defeat us. I think that speaks very well of my army – and its commanders.”

Klont gave me a grim smile, but I could see him puff up just a bit. It was indeed a mark of honor that we had stood against the attacks of our enemies and had repelled them all. That they would need to combine their forces to defeat us spoke very well of my soldiers.

But I had to let that moment of pride pass by quickly. There were more important – and more disastrous – questions to be answered yet.

“What of the Shongtal?” I asked. “How do they factor into this?”

“Wotul believes that he can harness their powers,” he said. “He believes that he can control them, bend them to his will. That he can augment his army with them.”

“That's madness,” I said. “Lunacy.”

“It's an act of desperation, my lord,” Uldor said. “Wotul knows he cannot win this war on his own.”

“A war of his creation,” I seethed.

Uldor nodded. “Be that as it may, if he does what he believes he can do, it will be the ruin of us all.”

“Madness,” I said again. “Nobody controls the Shongtal. Nobody. It's why we sealed them away in the first place, so long ago.”

Uldor nodded. “My King agrees with you, my lord,” he said. “It's why he is asking for your help. Wotul must be stopped before he can destroy Chondelai. Time is short and we must get to the Ice Castle before he can complete the ritual.”

I turned and looked at Klont – who looked every bit as suspicious as I felt. My guards stepped forward, tense and alert, keeping their eye on the man as Klont and I stepped away to speak.

“You realize this very well could be a trap,” Klont said. “He already said he was colluding with Wotul. This rush to get you onto a battlefield of their choosing? It stinks to me.”

I nodded. “The thought had crossed my mind, yes,” I said. “There are many questions yet unanswered.”

“You can't seriously be considering this?”

I sighed. “If I do not, and Wotul truly is going to release the Shongtal, we're all going to be dead anyway and Chondelai will be destroyed. You know this as well as I do.”

“My lord –”

I shook my head. “We cannot sit by and do nothing, Klont,” I said. “Not if the fate of Chondelai truly is at stake. I am going to lead the army. You are to stay here with a detachment. In case this goes – wrong – you are to assume the throne, Klont.”

He gripped my arm and looked at me earnestly. “No, my lord,” he said. “You are the rightful King of the Fire Clan. Our people need you. If this is to be done, it will be my honor to lead the army.”

I gave him a small smile. “It is my duty to our people to ensure that the Shongtal are never released upon this world. My duty,” I said. “And you are the best man I've ever known. I know that with you in charge, the Fire Clan will continue to live on and flourish.”

“Jyta, no,” he said. “You can't –”

I gripped his forearm and gave him a smile. “I can. I have decided,” he said. “Protect our people. That is your duty. And if I fail to return, sit the throne and lead us back to glory.”

He looked stricken as I stepped away and turned to Uldor. I looked around at the land one more time, reinforcing my decision. The world was on fire, but if the Shongtal were released, it would be so much worse. Klont had been but a child the last time they walked free, so he didn't remember who – and what – they were. Didn't remember how purely evil they were – and couldn't quite understand that, that kind of evil must never be allowed to be free.

I was young, but I was there. I remembered. And I vowed, on that day, that if I had to give my life to ensure it, the Shongtal would never see the light of day again.

~ooo000ooo~

I swooped in low, opening my jaws, and delivered a massive fireball straight to the gates of the Ice Castle. The wood and steel, weakened by the barrage of our combined forces – Fire and Sand – shattered. The gates exploded, sending shrapnel into the sky.

The way was open.

For having had such a depleted army, the Ice Clan had put up a fierce resistance. But they were overwhelmed by the combined strength we threw at them. With battles between dragonborn still raging in the sky, I landed before the ruined gate – half a dozen of my warriors behind me. Uldor and his small contingent landed twenty yards away and we all shifted back into our human forms.

Our supply dragons, backs loaded with massive packs, landed on the field of ice, allowing my men and I to armor ourselves and claim our weapons. We could not go into the depths of the castle in our dragon forms – we had to go in our human skins.

Armored and ready, our supply dragons lifted off and flew away to their place of cover to wait for us to need them again.

“Are you ready?” Uldor called out to me.

I nodded grimly. “Let us be done with this.”

Uldor and I led our men into the castle, all Clan loyalties temporarily set aside. If we were successful in defeating Wotul and keeping the Shongtal sealed within their prison, there was going to be much work to do to rebuild Chondelai.

I had spoken with the King of the Sands and he had assured me that once this was over and Wotul was deposed, we would work hard to restore Chondelai to its former splendor. That we would end the war and find a way back to the peace and harmony that had ruled our world for millennia. Then find a way to deal with the greed and unchecked aggression of those like Wotul.

But first, we needed to end the threat to our world. Decisively. For, if we failed in that endeavor, everything else was moot.

Perhaps it was a sign of just how depleted Wotul's forces were that we encountered very little resistance as we strode through the castle. In fact, we hadn't seen a single soldier after we'd set foot within the stone and ice walls.

Tapestries depicting great victories and scenes of battles hung upon the walls. I had never been inside the Ice Castle and found it to be quite a beautiful place. The ice blocks within the walls glowed with an inner light that shone blue. It was elegant without being overdone.

The Ice Castle emitted a soothing quality, its vibration within the air one of tranquility – which was so at odds with the reason we were there. The Fire Clan was known for its hot temper and intense passions. The Ice Clan was supposedly the Clan of intellect and reason, the Clan who were more deliberate and thoughtful.

Waging a destructive war for personal gain seemed so out of character for the King Wotul I'd known long ago. I had to wonder what it was that had driven him to the precipice we found ourselves standing upon. What had changed within him?

At the end of a long corridor stood four armed and armored soldiers. Seeing us coming, the drew their swords and walked toward us. The soldiers who'd accompanied Uldor and I rushed past, the metallic sound of them drawing their own blades echoing in the empty corridor.

As the battle was engaged in front of us, I sensed the movement behind. Moving in unison, Uldor and I spun around, drawing our blades in one smooth motion. Four of Wotul's soldiers moved in, blades at the ready. Uldor and I separated, to give ourselves space to move as well as to split up the soldiers. Two followed him and two followed me.

I could see that they were young. Probably not very well trained yet. But I could see that maniacal zeal in their eyes that said they would lay down their life for their king in a heartbeat – which was about as much time as they had left in our world.

As the two soldiers rushed at me, I pointed at the torch on the wall and then at the soldier rushing at me, his sword raised high over his head. A fireball erupted from the torch, catching the soldier square in the chest, igniting him instantly. His sword fell to the stone floor with a clatter as the flames consumed his body, his agonized screams echoing up and down the corridor.

The second soldier, with an angry scream, brought his sword down in a murderous arc. I got my own blade up at the very last instant, barely avoiding having my skull split open, steel meeting steel with a high-pitched ring. The soldier foolishly tried to press his advantage, tried to drive the edge of his blade into my face – and left himself completely vulnerable to attack.

My breathing was labored and I gritted my teeth – the young dragonborn was strong – as I tried to fend off his attack. Using my free hand, I grabbed the long, curved dagger that hung at my belt and drove it upward, the point of my blade slicing through his armor like it was nothing. The young man's eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open – the strength in his sword arm vanishing instantly.

Blood streamed from his mouth, spilling upon my armor as his body grew limp, his lifeforce leaving him. I pushed his lifeless husk backwards, where he fell upon the burning corpse of his companion. I looked at the two bodies, said a silent word for each of them, and then turned at the sound of ringing steel.

Uldor had already dispatched one of the Ice warriors, his body lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. But the second soldier was proving more difficult. Blood streamed down Uldor's cheek from a gash that had been inflicted during the course of his fight.

The Ice warrior hacked and slashed, pressed his advantage, and had Uldor backing up, giving up ground. But he looked determined. Had that glint in his eye that marked him as a true warrior – he was enjoying the challenge this young dragonborn was giving him.

I considered stepping in and ending the fight, but knew that Uldor would see it as a sign of disrespect. He was a warrior. A fighter. If he was going to die, he wanted to do it with a blade in his hand or on the field of battle somewhere. He would not take kindly to my interfering with his fight.

Our other soldiers had concluded their skirmish and a quick count showed me that two Sand fighters had been lost as well as one of my own. They stood gathered around the steel doors, waiting for us. I could see they were enjoying the spectacle of Uldor and the Ice warrior locked in mortal combat.

The Ice soldier hacked at Uldor's blade again and again, driving the man to his knees. I feared that he was about to lose his fight when he looked up at me, shooting me a wink. A ruse, then. With the younger soldier continuing to wail on the blade Uldor kept above his head for protection, he slipped a dagger off his belt and drove it straight through the younger warrior's foot. The Ice warrior threw his head back and howled in pain, ceasing his attack.

Getting back to his feet, Uldor drove the point of his sword into the other man's throat, cutting off his screaming with a wet, gurgling sound. Blood came rushing out of the wound like a river and he fell to his knees before pitching forward onto his face, the pool of blood spreading out beneath him. It was over.

His breathing labored, Uldor looked at me and grinned. “Tough little bugger, that one.”

I nodded. “Well done,” I said. “You're a crafty fighter. I'll have to keep that in mind.”

He shrugged. “Hope you'll never have to use that bit of knowledge.”

“Me too.”

We strode up the corridor and our men pushed open the steel doors, leading us into a large, circular stone chamber. In the center stood one of the Dragon Doors – a magical doorway that connected Chondelai to another world, allowing us to move back and forth freely.

Though, I had never set foot into that other world in my lifetime – nor had anybody else I knew. They were antiquated and the feeling I got was that there was little of interest on the other side. Why the Doors had been constructed – or how – I never knew. They were just a relic. A historical artifact. A mystery from our past that would forever remain unsolved.

The doorway pulsed with bright, swirling colors, hovering several inches off the ground. Off to the side of the large chamber stood King Wotul within a circle of symbols that had been carved into the stone floor. On a table before him stood a box – the box. It was known as the Blychora and was the prison for the Shongtal.

“Wotul,” I intoned, my voice echoing around the stone chamber. “Cease what you are doing.”

He looked up at me, a predatory grin upon his face. “And why would I do that?” he asked. “Everything I want and desire is right here before me in the Blychora.”

“The destruction of our entire world is there in the Blychora.”

He shrugged. “Might it be the same thing?”

I took a step forward and froze in my tracks. My eyes widened and I felt my heart racing when I saw what lurked in the shadows behind the madman. There was no mistaking it. It's tall, slender frame, it looked like a shadow – a shadow with the substance of a man. Its silver eyes sparkled and glowed with an inner fire. And when it looked at me, I could feel the intense hatred coming off it like heat off a fire.

There was no question at all. It was one of the Shongtal.

It all made sense to me now. Why Wotul was acting so out of character. Why he'd waged a pointless war. With the Shongtal whispering poison into his ear, of course Wotul had gone mad.

But how? How had it escaped the Blychora?

“You are not yourself, my lord,” Uldor called, noticing what I had. “This – creature – is making you do things you would not normally do.”

Wotul shrugged. “Or perhaps it has helped me become who I was truly meant to be.”

The Shongtal looked at me, daring me to attack. Though they were shadow-men, they could be killed like any other man – so long as your blade was silver.

“Wotul, do not do this,” I said. “If you release the Shongtal, you are going to bring about the destruction of Chondelai. You know this.”

“Yes, that is the point,” he said. “For once Chondelai is destroyed, it can be rebuilt in my image. It can be built in a way that pleases me. And you will all serve me. You will all worship me and call me the Great King.”

I looked at Uldor and could see that he was tense. Nervous. Of course, he would have been a fool not to be. The Shongtal were nightmares. They were stories told to unruly children to keep them in line. But they were also very real. The stench of evil emanating from the shadow-man standing behind Wotul was powerful. Overwhelming.

“Do you really think the Shongtal are going to let that happen, Wotul?” I asked. “They nearly destroyed Chondelai once – what makes you think that by setting them free, you are going to have the chance to rebuild our world?”

“Because we want no part of your world any longer,” the Shongtal said. “Chondelai has run its course for us. There is nothing for us here any longer.”

“They will move on to another world,” Wotul said, glee in his voice. “And leave me this one to do with as I please. After they wipe out the rest of the Clans, of course.”

“You can't believe that, Wotul,” I said.

“Of course I do,” he replied.

Gripping my sword, I stepped toward him, Uldor at my side. But the Shongtal raised its hand and the carved symbols in the floor started to glow white. Then when we reached the edge of the circle, it was like we ran into a wall – a wall we could not see. I banged the hilt of my sword against the invisible barrier and it sounded solid enough – but there was nothing that could be seen with the naked eye.

Uldor and I exchanged a look, panic beginning to creep across both of our faces as the reality of the situation began to hit us. If we couldn't get to Wotul, we couldn't stop him. He was going to be free to release the Shongtal.

The dark creature seemed to intuit our thoughts as it stared at us, its silvery eyes sparkling in the darkness, and it laughed.

“Finish it,” the Shongtal said. “Finish the ritual. Free my brothers and sisters and this world will be yours for the taking, Wotul.”

Uldor and I banged on the invisible wall, shouting to Wotul, begging him to stop what he was doing. To consider the consequences of his actions. But he looked up at us, a fever in his eyes, and the lust for power and control etched into ever feature on his face.

Wotul began to chant in a tongue I did not recognize – it had to be the old tongue, a language that had long been dead. But he seemed to speak it like it was his native tongue – no doubt, a “gift” from the Shongtal.

His voice began to rise as a wind came out of nowhere, swirling around the chamber. The light from the markings on the ground glowed brighter, more intense. I squinted my eyes and stared through it, looking at the Shongtal and noticed that the light didn't seem to touch it. The creature remained blacker than midnight even though the light from its carvings on the ground were as bright as the sun at noon. And the Shongtal stared back at me – seemed to be staring through me – and it sent a chill to the very core of my being.

“It's opening!” Uldor shouted to be heard above the keening wind.

I shifted my attention to the Blychora and saw that it was shaking. Quivering. In the seams of the box, I could see it glowing. It glowed with the light of a star, bright and intense. The box seemed to be shaking and rattling harder on the table as Wotul's voice grew in volume and intensity.

As I watched, the lid of the Blychora didn't just open, it blew of its hinges. As the lid sailed upward, it seemed to disintegrate, falling back down to the ground as nothing more than a pile of dust. A moment later, a column of what looked like thick, black smoke, shot out of the open box. The cloud pooled at the ceiling of the chamber, swirling around like a thunderhead about to break and lash the world beneath it with lightning and rain.

And perhaps, we were about to face a storm. Perchance, Chondelai, as we knew it, was about to be wiped out of existence. As I continued looking at the cloud above our heads, I could feel the hatred and malevolence that radiated from it. It was a deep, ominous feeling that hovered over our heads and one that just made me feel – greasy. Slicked with a greasy sweat. Everything about that cloud just felt – off. Wrong. Evil.

After what seemed like an eternity, the column of darkness stopped coming out of the box and it all hovered above us, swirling like a maelstrom, flashes of red and white appearing like lightning behind the clouds. I looked to Wotul who stared at it admiringly, like it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his life.

The Shongtal behind him stepped forward and though there was no expression on his blank face, it seemed amused by something.

“My brothers and sisters are free,” it said. “And we have you to thank for that, King Wotul. Great King.”

The sound of sarcasm in its voice was unmistakable – but Wotul didn't seem to hear it. Didn't seem to notice it. He was too engrossed in the swirling darkness above us. Something bad was about to happen – I just didn't know what.

“We leave Chondelai to your stewardship,” the creature said. “Make of it what you will. And do with its – people – as you see fit.”

Slowly, as if waking from a dream, Wotul looked at the Shongtal and cocked his head. “We have work to do yet,” he said. “You promised –”

“I promised you the world,” the creature laughed. “And so, it is yours. Enjoy your new world.”

One moment, the creature was there. The next, it had turned into a cloud of smoke and had shot up to join the swirling mass on the ceiling. Without warning, that swirling, malevolent mass of smoke shot forward and disappeared through the Dragon Door, gone to whatever world lay beyond.

Wotul fell to his knees, absolutely stricken. He looked at the Door as if he expected the Shongtal to come roaring back through to fulfill their promise to him – but deep down, knowing that it wasn't going to happen. He'd been double-crossed and he finally knew it.

With a body that was trembling and naked fear in his eyes, Wotul turned to us.

“Mercy,” he said softly, his eyes shining with tears. “I beg of you. I knew not –”

“You knew exactly what you were doing,” Uldor said.

I looked at the Doorway, wondering what was on the other side. Wondering what world the Shongtal had gone to pollute. To infect. And what the ramifications for us – for Chondelai – would be.

I turned back to Wotul and looked at him with undisguised contempt and disgust. I looked to Uldor and nodded.

“This ends now,” I said.

We both stepped forward as Wotul screamed in both rage and helplessness. Our blades pierced his body, snuffing out his life force in a wave of blood. I had no idea what was going to happen with the Shongtal loose, but our part seemed to be over. At least, for now.

Chapter One

Ozaryan

Twenty-Three Years Ago...

The night was dark and the storm outside was fierce. Lightning lit up the night sky and rain came down in sheets. It was an ominous night. A deadly night. Deadly, because I knew they were out there. They were coming, for me, for Jessica, and for our child. If I hadn’t killed that Shongtal out in the open in L.A., we could have still been there. Still been protected by the warding spell. There was no such protection here in Chicago.

Jessica's screams of agony were pure torment for me. She was in pain and there was nothing I could do about it. Running back to the bedroom, I stood in the open doorway as Jessica gritted her teeth and screamed again. Chelsea sat at the edge of the bed, watching Jessica, encouraging her, and doing everything she could to make my wife comfortable.

Which, given the fact that she was birthing our child, wasn't easy.

And Jessica was having a hard time with this birth. Unions that produced offspring between Dragonborn and humans were extremely rare. Human bodies were not equipped to deal with birthing a Dragonborn child.

Noticing me standing in the doorway, Chelsea gave Jessica's hand a squeeze before coming out to join me in the hallway. She was a talented doctor and one of Jessica's closest friends. I trusted her with my wife's life.

And when she looked at me, her face grim, I felt my heart stutter. Felt the knot in my stomach grow tighter. She closed the door to give us a little bit of privacy.

“How is she?” I asked.

Chelsea shook her head. “Not well,” she replied. “She's in agony. Birthing this child is taking a severe toll on her. We really need to get her to a hospital, Ozy. I don’t have the equipment here to deal with this.”

I sighed and shook my head. Getting her to a hospital was out of the question. Humans were a curious and intelligent species that had a way of asking questions and learning things they shouldn't. It was why we usually used midwives as opposed to going to hospitals. It was part of my mandate as Warden, to ensure the secrecy of my kind. Nobody was to know we existed. Nobody was to know that our charge was to protect them.

And most especially, nobody was to know what it was we were sworn to protect them from. What it was my kind had unleashed upon their world.

“We can't, Chels,” I said. “I'm afraid to move her. I'm afraid it would kill her.”

She nodded. “It's possible,” she said. “But not moving her and forcing her to give birth here might do the job too.”

I paced the short hallway, fear twisting my insides. Stay here and she might die. Move her, and she might also die. I was damned if I did and damned if I didn't. And it was complicated even further by what I knew was out there. What was coming for us.

I gritted my teeth. At least here, I could stand and fight. And maybe, if I got lucky, I could win the day and save us all. But to do that, I was going to need help. A lot of help.

“Listen, Chels,” I said. “There is a lot going on that you don't understand. And I don't have the time to explain it all to you, so I'm going to need you to trust me. When this is all over, I promise I'll explain everything. But right now, I just need you to listen and do as I say. Our very lives depend on it.”

Chelsea looked at me with wide eyes and the color blanching from her face. But to her credit, she simply clenched her jaw and nodded. This wasn't her fight and she could have chosen to walk away, but she hadn't. And for that, I admired her. Not to mention, couldn't thank her enough.

I outlined my plan and her role in it. She remained silent and listened – though I knew she had a million questions she wanted to ask. Her eyes grew wide when I returned from our bedroom with my sword in hand. I handed her an ornately carved dagger, its curved blade glinting in the dim light of the hallway, the ruby in the eye of the dragon's head handle, seeming to pulse with an inner light.

She held the weapon and looked at it – then at me.

“A silver blade is the only weapon that will kill them,” I said.

“You’re not talking about-?” Chelsea asked, a slight tremor in her voice.

My smile was grim and tight. “The Shongtal,” I said. “They are coming for my child.”

I gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” I said. “I know it will be hard for you to face these creatures again, but it is essential that my child stay safe, no matter what. Are you clear on the plan? Understand what it is I am asking you to do?”

She nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Though, I have to admit – I'm a little freaked out here.”

“I understand,” I said. “But right now, we need to stay focused. They will be here soon and – we need to be ready.”

Jessica let out a scream that was pure agony. Chelsea looked at me for a moment longer, before turning and running into the bedroom to attend to her. I glanced at my watch as a blast of thunder sounded like it was tearing the sky open.

All things considered, the Shongtal couldn't have picked a worse night to attack me. As part of the Lightning Clan, I could harness and use the power of the storm to my benefit. And I intended to do just that. But knowing that I would have the power of the storm on my side, they seemed to be waiting until the peak of their power – midnight.

The Shongtal were creatures of the night. I'd fought thousands of them over the years. There seemed to be a never-ending supply of them in the human world. It was why we Wardens were here in the first place. It was our mistake that had inflicted this upon the world of man. And it was our sacred duty to protect them from it.

I walked to the window and looked out at the street below. Standing there, in the rain, beneath the street light was a man. Tall and thin – gaunt and sickly looking really – he stood across the street from our apartment looking up at the window.

He was Shongtal, there was no question about it. And he was waiting for midnight – as well as reinforcements very likely – before making a move. I looked at my watch and saw that we still had a couple of hours yet – assuming I was right about the timing.

I stood at the window, thinking about everything that had happened. I remembered that when Jessica told me she was pregnant, I freaked out. Then when she told me there was no way she was going to give the baby up, I freaked out a little bit more. I'd done all the research I could about human-Dragonborn offspring but there wasn’t much to go on. I'd told Jessica – everything – and let her make the decision.

Besides knowing how difficult it was going to be, she chose to keep our child. It was a part of us. A physical manifestation of our love, she'd said.

Over the next few months, I started to grow excited about the prospect of our having a child together. About being a family. The life of a Warden could be a very lonely affair. Sure, there was no shortage of women who wanted to sleep with me, but I wanted more than that. Craved it. Wanted the companionship that came from a solid, stable relationship.

I found it – and even more than I'd ever dared hope for – in Jessica.

As the months of Jessica's pregnancy wore on, I'd done a lot of research about our offspring, curious about what a Dragonborn/human hybrid would be like. But it was during the course of that research that I'd discovered a nugget of information that chilled me to the core.

It was just a little slice of our lore, but it had caught my attention in a big way. And had terrified me.

The Shongtal had long been trying to find a way to close the doors between Chondelai and the world of man. They wanted this world for their own. Wanted to be free to ravage and pillage as they saw fit. They sought to keep the Dragonborn from interfering with their plans for this world.

I wasn't sure what their plans were, but knowing the Shongtal like I did, I knew it wouldn't be good for humanity.

According to the lore, because a child born of a union between Dragonborn and human had a foot in both worlds, that child was special. Unique. It could be used to slam the Dragon Doors forever. All it required was the blood and life force of the child.

And there was no way in hell I was going to let that happen.

Jessica's screams echoed throughout our small apartment at the same time a tremendous clap of thunder shook the building. But then she fell silent and I felt my heart jump into my throat. Turning from the window, I rushed down the hallway and threw the bedroom door open, trying to prepare myself for the worst.

But when I walked into the bedroom, I found Chelsea sitting on the edge of the bed, a smile on her face and tears in her eyes. For sitting upright in the bed, looking exhausted and in pain, was Jessica – a small wrapped bundle in her arms.

Jessica looked up at me, her smile almost too big for her face, and tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Is – that –” I started to ask.

Jessica nodded. “Say hello to your daughter,” she said, her voice weak and raspy.

I stepped forward and looked at the small girl in Jessica's arms. She handed my daughter to me and I held her close to my chest, marveling at her beauty. She had her mother's eyes and delicate features. There was honestly, almost no physical trace of me in the baby. But that didn't bother me in the least – our little girl was sheer perfection as far as I was concerned.

I sat down next to Jessica and handed the baby back to her. We sat there, side-by-side, just staring at this wonderful little blessing. Our child. A child I feared I would never get to see grow up. Not with what was coming for us. I was tough, a strong fighter, but I didn't know what the Shongtal had in store for us. Or how many there would be. I'd tried to summon reinforcements, but so far, had heard nothing in response.

I closed my eyes, holding back my own tears, and said a silent word, begging for help to arrive in time to save us.

When I heard the clock in the living room chime though, I knew time had run out. It was midnight. The time of night when their power was the greatest. I looked to Jessica and Chelsea, both looked absolutely terrified – not that I blamed them in the least.

“It's time,” I said. “You both know what to do, yes?”

They looked at me and nodded, both growing paler by the second. I leaned down and kissed my child on the forehead, relishing the feel of her soft skin upon my lips. And when I looked into Jessica's eyes, I saw the love for me burning hotter than the sun. I leaned forward and kissed her, trying to put every ounce of my love for her behind it.

I stood up, adrenaline shooting through my body and setting my every nerve ending on fire when I heard the pounding on the door. They were there.

I walked out of the room, picking up my sword as I made my way down the hall, my tension growing with every step. I stood in the middle of the living room as the pounding on the door continued.

“Ozaryan,” came a voice from the other side of the door. “We know the child is in there. Give it to us and we will spare your life.”

I closed my eyes and opened myself to the power of the storm outside. A booming crash of thunder shook the building and I felt my power growing as I absorbed the storm's energy.

“Ozaryan” came the voice again. “Last chance. Give us the child or we come in and take it.”

Gripping my sword tight, I summoned the power of the storm that was building inside of me. Lighting erupted from my fingertips, the windows in the room shattering and the front door exploding outward.

Knowing there was but one way to kill a Shongtal, I stepped to the ruined doorway to look for the creature to put an end to it. It was already rising from the smoldering ruin of wood. Moving swiftly, I lanced out with my sword, the tip of my blade slicing through the body of the man it was inhabiting. It screamed with a fury that rivaled the storm outside, but red light burst from its eyes as the demon inside the body died.

It was then that I noticed half a dozen more standing on the steps leading up to my door, waiting as if they'd expected what I'd done. I backed into my apartment, sword at the ready. Six to one – not great odds, but I had to play the hand I was dealt.

“Come on then,” I said. “Let's finish this.”

“Anxious to die, Warden?”

A tall, thin woman stepped through the doorway, a predatory smirk upon her face. She was followed by five men of varying heights and weights – the Shongtal apparently weren't picky when it came to picking the bodies they took control of. I supposed it didn't matter. Their power didn't come from the bodies, it came from them. They were infused with a demonic power that was frightening in its capacity for destruction.

“I'm feeling magnanimous tonight, Warden,” the woman said. “So, I'll give you one more opportunity. Give us the child and we'll be on our way. Nobody needs to die here tonight.”

She turned and looked back at the body of the man I'd run through and smirked.

“Well – nobody else, anyway,” she said.

With my free hand, I summoned as much energy as I could and flicked my wrist, sending two silver throwing stars at the men to her right. Both hit home, sinking deep into the flesh of the creatures. Both screamed and clutched their heads, but the damage was done. Red light burst from their eyes and they fell to the ground, as dead as the man in the hallway.

The woman looked at me and sighed, shaking her head. “It did not have to be this way, Warden.”

That left four of them. Still not great odds, but better than before. To nullify the advantage they had – as well as to prevent any of them from slipping down the hallway behind me – I stationed myself just inside the archway that led to the bedroom where Jessica was.

If they wanted her, they were going to have to go through me. A task that I'd just made a little more difficult by forcing them to fight me one-on-one.

They rushed at me, but because of the narrowness of the hallway, they had no choice but to wait their turn to get a shot at me. The first man stepped forward, a heavy broadsword in his hand. He raised it and brought it down in a murderous arc that surely would have split my head wide open. But I danced backward, just out of reach, and the edge of his blade buried itself in the wooden floor.

Before he was able to rip it free, I stepped forward and drove the point of my blade into the man's throat. His eyes opened wide and he opened his mouth to scream, but all that came out was a wet, gurgling sound. The red light erupted from his eyes as the demon inside of him died. I pulled my sword free and stepped back, allowing the body to slump to the floor.

“This is entertaining, but it's all for nothing, Warden,” the woman called to me. “I will only summon more of my warriors.”

“Then summon them,” I said. “I can do this all night.”

The man before me moved aside and I wasn't able to react in time. A knife shot out of the darkness of the living room, burying itself up to the hilt in my side. I grunted in pain as the blade tore through my flesh. I felt warm blood rolling down my body and then felt that something was wrong. My skin burned and there was a strange sensation coursing through my body.

“In case you wondered,” the woman said. “The blade of that dagger was coated in a rare poison. It's deadly to the Dragonborn. Or so I'm told. You'll have to tell me if that's true or not.”

“W – where did you get it?” I gasped.

It had been only moments, but I was already feeling lightheaded, my vision starting to blur and grow fuzzy around the edges. I tried to shift into my dragon form – an act of sheer desperation – but found that I couldn't. Whatever the poison was, it had me locked in my human skin.

“Doesn't matter where I got it,” she said. “It only matters that it's effective. And judging by the amount of sweat pouring off you, I'd say it is.”

I was dying. There really was no other way around it. I felt my body growing weaker with each passing second. Knowing that I was about to die, I wanted to see Jessica one last time. I stumbled back to the bedroom door, barely strong enough to hold onto my sword. When I got to the doorway, I threw it open, stepping inside clumsily, and then closed and locked the door behind me.

The Shongtal were in no hurry – they knew they'd won.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, swaying and unsteady. Jessica looked at me with tears in her eyes. She knew what was about to happen.

“I – I'm sorry,” I said. “I tried to protect you and I failed.”

She laid her hand against my cheek and through her tear stained face, gave me a small smile. “You did not fail, my love,” she said softly. “And if this is how it has to be, at least we'll be together at the end.”

Her strength and courage, even in the face of her own looming death, set a fire in my belly. I may not have much longer in this world, but I was going to make the Shongtal pay. I leaned forward and kissed Jessica, knowing it would be the very last time our lips met.

Standing up, I waited. The Shongtal were gathered on the other side of the door. More had come and they crowded into the hallway beyond the door. I could feel their dark malevolence growing and multiplying.

But I had a surprise for them.

Using as much strength as I could muster, I raised my arms, summoning the lightning outside. I spoke a few words of an incantation I knew and outside, the thunder boomed with the intensity of a cannon. It was what came next though, that brought a smile to my face.

I closed my eyes and I could sense the bolt of lightning as it shot out of the clouds overhead, streaking for the apartment. It came through the blown-out windows and straight down the hallway – incinerating the bodies of the Shongtal standing outside my door. At least, some of them. And judging by the intensely agonized screaming I heard coming from the hallway, that bolt of lighting had done damage to a good number of them.

It wouldn't kill them, but it would ruin the bodies they'd stolen enough that they have to go and find another.

The bedroom door burst inward and the woman stood there, clearly unamused. Half of her face was scorched and the smell of burnt flesh accompanied her. Three or four of her minions crowded into the room behind her.

I looked to Jessica and found that rather then terror, her face was set in an expression of grim determination and resolve. She clutched the swaddled bundle to her chest protectively, as if she was daring any of the Shongtal to take it from her.

And when one of the woman's minions reached for Jessica, she buried her silver dagger into his chest. The demon screamed and fell dead upon the bed, the red light in its eyes fading to nothingness. The woman looked at Jessica and then at me, slightly annoyed, slightly amused.

“Your woman is feisty,” she said. “I like that. But it's time to end this game.”

She turned and in one smooth motion, drew and hurled a dagger that hit Jessica in the forehead with a loud thump, the blade burying itself deep. I watched in horror as Jessica – the love of my life – slumped backward on the bed, her eyes rolled back, her mouth hanging open. She was dead. Gone. Forever.

I screamed out and using the last of my strength, raised my sword as the woman grabbed hold of the bundle in Jessica's arms. Two of her minions stepped forward and drove their swords into my midsection. Their steel hissed as it entered my body and I groaned in agony. I used the life force within me to charge myself, sending a bolt of electricity up through the swords, electrocuting both of the Shongtal fighters. They screamed and flew backwards, hitting the floor with a thud.

The woman though, howled in rage as she realized that she'd been duped. The bundle she'd taken from Jessica contained nothing more than another blanket. I smiled wide, knowing that my child was out of her reach, gone with Chelsea just as I'd instructed.

I'd failed in my duty to protect Jessica, but at least I'd managed to protect my child – and protect the world I'd sworn to serve by denying the Shongtal. It was the one thing I took comfort in as I felt my life force ebbing.

The last thing I saw was the woman turn to me, rage flashing through her eyes as she approached, the light in the room glinting off the edge of her blade.

Chapter Two

Astrid

Present Day...

I set the alarm and exited my shop, locking the door behind me before closing and locking the gate . You could never be too careful, after all. Though a bookstore wasn't the likeliest of targets for would-be thieves, you just never knew.

My bookstore – The Attic – had been open for a little over a year now, and it was doing pretty well. It encouraged me – and made me happier than I could say – that people still seemed to love the written word. Books were my life. Always had been. Within the pages of a good book, I could lose myself for hours, traveling to faraway worlds, meeting brave and dashing strangers, and having grand adventures.

Basically, within the pages of a book, I found lives that were everything my own life was not.

(Continued in Saved by a Dragon…)

The doorways stand between two worlds – do they hold the keys that will unlock their survival as well as their passion? 

Astrid lives a normal, unremarkable life. She owns and operates a bookstore, has a small circle of friends, and avoids social interaction like the plague. She's alone most of the time, but that's how she likes it. It's routine, there are no unexpected surprises – or chances of being hurt. 

All of that changes though, when a chance encounter with a mysterious man turns her world upside down. Suddenly, nothing is routine and unexpected surprises are the norm. 

Quint is a Dragonborn Warden, a guardian and protector of humanity. He takes his job as a sacred responsibility and is single-minded in his determination to wipe out the evil Shongtal where ever he finds them.

But when he meets Astrid, he begins to change. His priorities begin to change That singlemindedness slowly gives way to something else within him.

Astrid and Quint stir something deep within one another and it's a primal call that neither can deny – nor do they want to. But will they survive the coming fight to indulge in those primal passions that have set their minds and bodies ablaze?

Saved by a Dragon features a curvy redhead who comes into her own, becoming a regular spitfire and a tall, built Dragonborn shifter – both with a hunger for passion and insatiable desires. 

This book is a standalone, no cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happy ending!