Ferro

“Stand down!” he bellowed over the angry, pained roar as Parlanah snatched her deformed paw back.

A tail whipped through the air, connecting with his side, sending him flying into the wall. Stone crunched under his impact, but the scales covering his body prevented him from sustaining any injury. He dropped to a crouch, his wings tucked behind him.

“I would know how you learned to achieve this, dear father,” she sneered at him.

“Time, and patience,” he replied. “You are out of one, and have always lacked the other,” he informed her, launching another attack. His legs drove him forward until he had closed the distance halfway. Muscles bunched, and he leapt into the air, propelled upward by a mighty beat of his wings.

Fire blossomed from his mouth once more, scorching more scales from the dragon, this time sloughing them off from her right flank. A paw came whipping toward him, but Ferro was ready for that. He wrapped his wings around him and dropped like a stone under the limb.

Parlanah snarled in frustration. Ferro spat a ball of flame at her snout as she prepared to douse him in flames once more. The dragon reared back in surprised pain. She did something Ferro hadn’t expected. She flicked her wing at him, trying to flatten him under it. The membrane slammed into his head, sending him tumbling.

“Your time is up old man,” she told him angrily.

In the hall behind him, he heard Ana roar. Something smashed angrily and then multiple voices came back at him. She was under attack. He needed to finish this now.

Using his flame once more—he didn’t have much more in him; the blasts were pure energy taken from him—he sliced open her wing membrane. Parlanah pulled it back to her side, freeing Ferro to go for her head.

“Get off!” she snapped as he landed on top of her large head.

“Stop this madness,” he ordered, his wings easily keeping him balanced.

Parlanah didn’t respond.

“Please, do not make me do this,” he pleaded. “I have already lost Karthorax and Luthor. I do not want to lose you!”

The dragon laughed. “You lost me when you abandoned me after I was born,” she spat, trying once more to dislodge him.

Ferro sighed and steeled himself for what had to happen next. He inhaled until his lungs were full.

Forgive me.

Fire wreathed the top of Parlanah’s head, flowing straight down from Ferro into her skull until she wailed in agony. Her head then crashed to the floor, lifeless.

The hard landing dislodged him and he tumbled across the chamber, his body smashing through something until it slammed to a halt against the wall.

Ferro didn’t pause. He launched himself to his feet, flying over the ruined remains of the throne he had just destroyed. He didn’t have time to appreciate the irony of that.

Ana needed him.

He shot into the hallway, his scales sinking back into his skin. The trick was something he had learned a long time ago and had taught to a very select few shifters. It required massive amounts of energy and mental strength to control his animal so strictly. He hadn’t told any of the other dragons about it, nor had he shared the trick to concentrating his fire to make it burn so much hotter.

“Ana!” he shouted.

She was slumped to the ground, eyes closed. Behind her, a shifter stared at Ferro, eyes unseeing. His arms were wrapped around her throat, though they were slowly falling aside. Massive red welts were already springing up on her skin, giving Ferro hope that she would be okay.

He slid to his knees at her side, trying to find the best way to untangle them. It wasn’t as easy as it looked due to the massive, brilliant white horn that was impaling the other shifter’s head.

Ana coughed.

He held her as best he could. “Hi,” he said softly into her ear. “Just stay calm. It will be okay,” he promised.

Around the rest of the castle the sounds of fighting had died away.

A rather unpleasant noise startled him as the horn began to shrink, leaving a huge hole in the shifter’s head. As it disappeared completely, the body fell away, allowing Ferro to hold Ana tight to him, careful to avoid her throat.

“Did we do it?” The voice that came from her was raspy and sounded wrong. It must have been due to the damage inflicted upon her throat, but it made him feel terrible for what she had sustained.

“We did, my love. We did,” he told her, gently kissing her forehead. Her hair was plastered to her face with blood from the shifter she had killed. He moved it aside, clearing her vision.

Down the hallway, footsteps scraped on the stone floor.

His head snapped up, muscles tensing.

A head peeked around the corner. It took in the carnage for a moment before focusing on Ferro. The ancient dragon shifter breathed a sigh of relief as members of their team came around the corner.

Five of them in total. He frowned, looking over the various faces until he realized who was missing. “Jarran?” he asked softly.

The leader shook his head.

“Dammit,” Ferro swore. One more needless death. He had known they would take some losses, and if he was honest, losing only one was far below even his most realistic expectations going in.

That didn’t make the loss any easier to stomach. He felt personally responsible for every shifter who had been ended as a result of his daughter’s arrogant quest for power. If he had only been more involved in the world at large, he could have seen this coming and done something to prevent it.

“Check the basement,” he said wearily, still holding Ana tight in his arms. “We need to find out where they are holding the Council members. We will be along shortly.”

“No, we’ll be along now,” Ana said, forcing her way to her feet despite his objections.

“Just take it easy,” Ferro urged her.

She shot him a firm glare. “This is what’s hurt,” she said, pointing to the mess of bruising and swelling that was her throat.

He suppressed a shudder at how weak and pained her voice sounded. But Ana wasn’t done talking to him.

“This is fine,” she said, pointing at the rest of her body. “I can walk to the damn basement. I’m stronger than that.”

This time Ferro couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, my dear, you are that.”

She nodded sharply, then hissed as a hand flew to her neck, wincing in pain.

“Good. Now take my damn arm so that I can stay as close to you as possible,” she told him.

He arched an eyebrow, but offered a quick bow and took her arm into his. “Of course, my lady,” he said with an aristocratic lilt to his voice.

“Don’t make me laugh,” she rasped out.

Ferro sobered immediately, despite the fact he could already hear her voice sounding better. Her attacker had done a decent job of crushing her windpipe among other things, but she was going to live, and that prevented his spirits from being dashed completely. It would be a painful day or so while she recovered, but in reality, that was nothing compared to the lifetime they now had to spend with each other.

They followed the others to the basement. Descending the stairs, the group was immediately accosted by shouts, jeers, and insults of a staggering variety. He flashed a toothy smile.

“Sounds like they’re still pretty pissed about being locked up,” he joked. Ferro allowed everyone a moment’s levity to relax, before nodding to proceed.

The shouts turned to cries of incredulity as the captive shifters realized just who was in the basement with them.

“They got to you too Ferro?” one of the Council members shouted in horror.

He rolled his eyes, but Ana opened her mouth before he could reply.

“I thought you said these were some of the older, smarter dragons on the planet?”

“They are,” he said, not understanding where she was going.

“Then how come they can’t recognize a rescue party when they see one?”

Ferro and the shifter team that had accompanied them all broke down into laughter. Laughter that died as they realized how their comrades had been imprisoned.

“This is barbaric,” he said as they came into view.

Of each shifter, only their head was visible. The rest was buried in the floor, encased in solid concrete.

“Yeah, it’s not been overly pleasant,” came a reply from farther down the line.

“Eight,” he said softly, doing a headcount while the free shifters quickly looked around for tools to break their friends free.

“What?” Ana turned to look at him.

“There are eight. Merlin makes nine. Only nine left.” He sighed heavily. “You know, back when we first formed the Council, there were fifteen.” His shoulders drooped. “All my fault,” he whispered, leaning against the cold wall.

“Stop that,” Ana said with as much force as her damaged throat would allow.

When he didn’t respond, she shoved her face into his, forcing him to focus on her. The intensity of her eyes startled him. They were glowing brightly, in a way he had never seen before. The blue was so vivid it was mesmerizing.

“Your eyes,” he said without thinking.

“I know,” she said. “It started after we made love the first time.”

He shook his head. “Why did you keep it a secret? What does it mean?”

Ana snorted. “I couldn’t control it. I still can’t. All I know is that being in close proximity to you sets it off sometimes.”

Ferro hung his head. “Look around you Ana. Being around me is a one-way sentence to sadness and death.”

If anything, the fiery blue orbs increased their brightness. “Don’t you get it?” she snapped. “This is a sign. It has to be.”

He looked at her suspiciously. “A sign of what?”

“Life, you big dope! It means I’m pregnant.”

“You know after two weeks? Ridiculous,” he scoffed, though inside he felt a thrill that had lain dormant for many millennia. The thrill of the idea of being a father again. “How can you tell?”

“Because,” she said with patience it was clear she didn’t have. “That is what you are: life. You created an entire species. You fought for life when your children were losing theirs. You came here and you rescued all of these people, giving them a new life when theirs was threatened by death. Death may be part of it, but Ferro, my love, after everything you do, there is always life. It is in your blood,” she said, her voice all but a whisper. “You are the origin of your species. Possibly of all shifter species. You are the king who will never wear a crown. The royalty who will never claim a dynasty.”

She grabbed the side of his face. “And dammit if I don’t love you for it.”

She kissed him.

For a moment he froze, her words finding something deep within him, something he didn’t realize had been there. He was the bluest of bluebloods, the oldest of the old.

But never had he felt so alive.

He was going to be a father!