Chapter 4
Brad climbed out of the ute, trying to hide the fact that even his legs were shaking this time.
He’d never been so scared in his life as he had been in the last twenty-four hours.
He did have an excuse at least. He’d just been chased by a dragon in the middle of a magical dragon storm, while Lyrian… well, he wasn’t too sure what she’d been doing. He hadn’t been able to see any signs of her doing anything, but the other dragon’s car had run off the road into a ditch.
Then after that, Lyrian had used some sort of dragon magic yet again to cover their tracks.
It all just served to remind him that he was way out of his depth. As soon as he started to think he had this figured out, that he had a plan that could solve this, it was ripped out from underneath him. He was in the middle of nowhere with no phone, and not even the map they needed to find Lyrian’s brothers.
How was he going to get them out of this?
Would they be safe here?
He was a little nervous about being so far away from the town. At the pub they at least had a landline phone, and people he could ask for assistance. Even if he didn’t need any, he felt a lot better being around other people. Out here, there was nothing to stop the two dragons throwing magic at each other indiscriminately.
Not that being in the middle of the town had stopped them much.
He gave a shudder at the memory of the lightning hitting the ground near the car.
He’d just have to hope that the other dragon didn’t find them here. Just in case, he reached under the seat of the ute and pulled out the shotgun. It might not do much, but it made him feel a little more in control.
Lyrian lifted Anarian out of the carseat. The baby woke up now, and started crying.
Brad couldn’t help thinking of all the things he didn’t have to care for her. No diapers. No clothes. Nowhere comfortable to sleep.
He and Lyrian would manage, they understood what was going on. But the little baby had no idea. She deserved better than this.
When they figured this out, he’d make it up to her. Somehow.
Right now, he needed to take stock of their situation. He stared around the cave. It was lucky Lyrian had known it was here. Hopefully they could hide until…
Until what? They couldn’t just stay here permanently. In fact, staying even for a short while was going to be problematic. They had no food, nowhere to sleep, nothing.
For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do.
Lyrian didn’t seem fazed at all. She settled herself down on a rock, leaned her back against the rocky wall, and attached Anarian to the breast. Brad spared a moment to be glad they didn’t need bottles and formula.
Lyrian heaved a sigh of relief. “At least we’re safe here,” she said.
Brad wished he could be so certain. “What if that dragon follows us, like she followed you to Henry’s house?”
“If she does, I can deal with her. Just so long as she’s alone.” Lyrian’s voice was confident. Certain.
Brad wished he could be so sure.
He also wished, even though he felt a little foolish for doing so, that he didn’t have to be relying on Lyrian to fight for him.
He should be the one defending her, not hiding behind her.
Trouble was, he had no experience fighting dragons. And he was pretty sure the internet wouldn’t help him with this one, even if he had access right now.
“What if she isn’t alone?” he probed. That was his worst fear. One dragon, they might be able to handle, between the shotgun and Lyrian’s magic. But two? Or even worse, more?
Lyrian’s face fell at that. But only for a moment. “Then we run, back to the town,” she said firmly. “They won’t attack us there. And if worst comes to worst, we go to where Verrian might be anyway, even if we do risk leading the dragons to him.”
Brad wished it was that easy. “We don’t even have the map. How can we even find him?”
Lyrian’s face fell at that. But then she stared at him stubbornly. “Then tomorrow morning we go back and get it. If we’re ready for the Trima dragon, we can get in and out without her seeing us, I’m sure.”
Brad stared at her. She sounded so certain.
How could she sound so confident when everything was so out of control and unstable?
Brad had thought he had a solution to everything. Until a few days ago, he’d never had a situation where he didn’t know exactly what to do. Well, except for the first time Lyrian had shut him out. He hadn’t known what to do then.
Well, that wasn’t quite true. What he hadn’t known how to do was convince her to talk to him.
He’d still had a solution. He’d left.
It had been a valid option, even if it hadn’t been his preferred one.
Now he struggled to even think of possible options.
Lyrian though, she didn’t falter.
Then again, maybe these were normal decision for her, like deciding what to do if a man’s heart stopped was simple and logical for him.
“Hopefully she won’t find us here.” This time, Lyrian’s voice wavered a little, and the look in her eyes wasn’t certainty and strength, it was fear and nervousness.
She was no more certain of this than he was.
For some reason, that made Brad feel a little better. Not quite so helpless. There was something he could do. He could help Lyrian feel more confident.
With that aim in mind, he sat down on a rock beside her and said, “You ran her into a ditch, I bet she’ll be thinking twice about coming after you.”
Lyrian shook her head. “It was nothing. We’re just lucky that my magic is less obvious than hers. If we hadn’t been in the middle of the human town, she would have used her lightning magic. I can blow away a lot of things, but not lightning.”
So much for that. He hadn’t helped at all. In fact, he’d only made things worse.
Before he’d started talking, she’d seemed confident that she could defeat the other dragon. Now she didn’t.
How could he help her feel that certainty again?
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” he said, his voice firm. “You seem to have known exactly what to do every time we’ve dealt with her so far. You’ve kept us and Anarian safe. I’m sure you can do it again.”
He was rewarded with a weak smile. “So far, yes.” Lyrian agreed. “That’s what a princess does.”
“Princess?” Brad blurted out. he stared at her. She’d said dragon earlier. Now she was a princess?
To his surprise, Lyrian blushed, and shrugged her shoulders a little. “Yeah, I’m… kind of a dragon princess. I’m supposed to know what to do to protect my people. Unfortunately, I failed. We all failed.”
Brad couldn’t help staring. He knew that he should ignore her revelation. Or at least not be stuck on it. They had far bigger problems to deal with. It really made no difference that she was a dragon princess.
Except it did.
He suddenly wasn’t just protecting the woman he loved and his baby.
He was protecting a princess.
That idea stirred a vein of nobility somewhere deep inside him, probably one that stemmed back to a knight ancestor or something. He could do this. He could be her protector. That would be a worthy job.
He wasn’t bothered by the fact that she was more powerful than he was. He’d never felt threatened by a woman in power. In fact, they’d always kind of turned him on. The way they always seemed so in control…
Trouble was, Lyrian wasn’t in control. She was as out of control as he was. Sure, she always seemed to save the day, but that was more good luck than good management.
And, it was one thing to like a strong, independent woman while he was confident and secure in his own job. It was quite another to feel comfortable if he walked away from that and didn't have his own role. It wasn't like he was even any good at protecting Lyrian. No, he could add nothing useful to her life. He'd just be a dead weight.
He couldn’t do this. No matter how much he wanted to be her protector, he was going to fail. He couldn’t go up against a clan of enemy dragons with just a shotgun.
Reluctantly, he realised that the only way he could help Lyrian would be to find her brothers. That needed to be his mission, much as he wanted to jump in and save her, it wasn’t the practical solution, the sensible one.
Boring as they were, practical and sensible were necessary too. He looked over at Lyrian, the dejected expression on her face melting his heart. He might not be able to face down a dragon with a sword for her, but maybe there were other things he could do.
Brad knelt down beside her and put a hand on her knee. “You didn’t fail,” he said softly. “You are doing a fantastic job. I bet it’s not easy, being a mother, a dragon, and a princess. But I also reckon no one could do a better job than you are doing.”
Lyrian stared at him, tears welling up in her eyes. “It’s kind of you to say it, Brad. And I know you mean it. But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.”
“Nothing ever is,” Brad said softly. He certainly knew all about that feeling. He hesitated for a minute, he didn’t normally talk about his own failures. Even admitting to them was hard. But his need to help Lyrian was greater than his own fears. “You know I’m a surgeon, right?”
Lyrian stared at him, then nodded.
“Well, one of the realities of being a surgeon, a healer, is that sometimes, you fail.”
Brad’s voice choked a little. He hated thinking about his failures, the people he hadn’t been able to save, but that didn’t mean he ever forgot any of them. Not a single name. That was one of the downsides to having an excellent memory.
Lyrian put a hand on his knee, offering silent support.
She wasn’t the first one. Doctors did stick together. All of them knew the pain of losing someone in the operating theatre. But their sympathy had never helped him one little bit. Brad had always born it with good grace, and thanked them, then retreated as quickly as he could, embarrassed.
It didn’t feel like that with Lyrian. He could almost feel the sympathy envelop him like a warm hug. She wasn’t just going through a motion, she truly cared.
“There are many people I couldn’t save,” Brad said, his voice low. “And after each one, you analyse the situation, think of all the things you could have done differently that might have changed the outcome. Sometimes, nothing you could have done would have made any difference. Those are easier to let go.”
His voice lowered again. This was the part he’d never admitted to anyone before. “And sometimes you wonder if you’d taken a different path, done something different, if you might have been able to save them.”
Lyrian’s hand on his knee squeezed a little, and the gentle encouragement helped Brad continue. “I can’t go back and change any of those times. I can’t go back and save those people. I know I did the best I could with the information I had available at the time, but it doesn’t help.”
“So why do you keep doing it, if it hurts so much?”
Brad looked up, his eyes meeting hers. “Because if I don’t, then people who I could have saved would die,” he said simply.
He’d intended the story to help Lyrian understand that sometimes, your best was all you could do. But she was staring at him with a different understanding in her eyes.
“That’s why you had to go back to America,” she said softly.
Brad hesitated, then nodded slowly. “It was,” he said.
Lyrian’s eyes were sad, a sadness that was echoed in Brad’s heart. “Your people need you as much as my people need me.”
Brad hesitated, but no matter how much of a big shot he thought he was, it wasn’t really the same. No matter which way he looked at it, it wasn’t on par with being a princess. Lyrian wasn’t just responsible for the life and death decisions of one person, she had a whole community, a whole clan to care for.
If something happened to her, he was pretty sure no one could replace her.
“Not quite. A surgeon is important, but I’m not the only one. If I leave, there are others who will take my place.”
Another thing he didn’t usually admit. Lyrian really was bringing out the best in him. Or maybe the worst. He wasn’t sure which it was.
“I bet they’re not as good as you.”
Her blind faith in his abilities both touched and surprised him. She’d never seen him operate. Knew nothing about what he did or how well he did it. But still, she believed he was the best.
The trouble was, it only rammed home to him that he wasn’t.
He’d always wanted to believe that he had something special, something that set him apart. But somehow, standing in front of Lyrian, as she fed their baby daughter, he didn’t feel special at all.
He felt wholly inadequate.
He might be good at one, specific thing, but there were a whole host of things he wasn’t good at. And suddenly one of them, protecting her and their baby, was far more important.