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The Dragon Slayer (Dragon Prince Series Book 1) by Marie Daye (24)


Chapter Twenty-Six

 

Libelle fought to contain her tears, her uneven breathing, and her shaking. Eskil was hurt, but he was alive… he was coming for her, and that was all that mattered. She bit her lower lip, the sharp pinch made her taste her own blood. She felt Gaalin grab her already sore and bruised ankles, spinning her back around onto her back. His cold eyes searched for hers, except hers were squeezed shut.

He groaned, slumping forward until his chest rested against hers and his lips touched her neck.

“Libelle,” He murmured. “-you’re wonderful. My beautiful, sexy Libelle. You're mine.”

I’ll never be yours, you vile, deceitful, and cruel-

“I am going to go downstairs. I’ll gather supplies and ready the carriage. I want to leave with you, start a new life together with you as my wife.” He attempted to kiss her cheek and she turned her head away from him.

He chuckled, “You’ll understand why I did this one day. You’ll grow to love me in return.”

Gaalin stood up beside the bed, pulling his pants back on and redoing his belt buckle. He retrieved his shirt from the floor and walked towards the door, pausing as he opened it. Looking back over his shoulder, he smiled brightly at her.

“I love you Libelle.”

When the door shut behind him Libelle felt a wave of emotion rush through her all at once, she couldn't contain it anymore, she felt completely crushed. Rolling onto her side, she raised her knees up to her chest. Eskil… She silently whispered.

“I’m coming!” He roared into her mind, the sensation of his struggles rolling through her. She felt his bones crack in his wrists, his shoulder dislocating, his skin tearing against the abrasive rope. His rage was seeping from him, he was determined to break free from his bonds. He was determined to get to her.

Eskil, he’s done. He left.

“Beloved, I'm coming. I’ll be there soon, please wait for me.”

Through the pounding rain on the roof and the howl of the wind, she heard the solid structure of the manor groan loudly. Another loud groan echoed through the house before she heard a shattering crack of splintering wood, along with a beastly roar. She glanced at the doorway, pleading with the divines for Eskil to open the door. The fear that Gaalin would come back before him sent another shiver down her spine.

Thundering feet pounded up the stairs and down the hallway towards her room, she felt herself tense up and began pulling at her restraints. It was Gaalin, wasn't it?

The door flew open, and she flinched; pushing herself up onto her elbows, prepared to fight Gaalin off with everything she had. She relaxed, her shoulders slumping and a relieved smile spreading faintly across her lips.

She whispered his name, the noise muffled through her gag.

He stood panting in the doorway, he was beaten so badly that he was bloody all over. His hands resting above his knees, he slumped forward and coughed, spit and blood landing on the floor. He had wounds all over his body, his skin ripped apart from Gaalin’s assault and from escaping his bonds. His blazing red eyes locked onto her, and quickly he crossed the room to reach her.

Libelle tried to sit up for him, instead she was pulled right back down to the mattress by her restraints. His clawed fingers twisted into the material and shredded them, then ripped the gag from her mouth; he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her firmly against his chest.

“Libelle,” He said quietly, his voice breaking. “-I’m sorry. I couldn't get here sooner. I'm so sorry.”

Her blue eyes widened, once again filling with tears before she broke down in the arms of her lifemate. She twisted her arms around his neck, burrowing her face against his collarbone and cried, she just cried. Eskil knew he couldn't take away her pain, not right now. The only thing he could do for her, was scoop her up and get her out of there.

“Can you walk?” He asked, she nodded and he lifted her off the bed to set her on the floor. Her feet flattened out on the wood floor, and she stifled her cry as pain shot through the joints. Eskil immediately lifted her back up, setting her on the edge of the bed and examining her ankles. They were incredibly swollen, handprints bruised onto her skin, her ankles were probably sprained.

He sighed, grabbing the grey wool blanket that was neatly folded over the chair by her desk. He wrapped it around her body and lifted her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest. She pulled the rough material against herself, staring up at him. Despite the pain radiating through his entire body, the blood pooling from his wounds, he smiled so gently at her.

“I’m getting you out of here, I’ll take you somewhere safe.”

She nodded at him, wrapping one arm around his neck as he headed towards the door. He carried her out of her room and down the stairs, stepping lightly as he crept towards the main door. He glanced out the window, taking note that the rain had slowed to a trickle and the sky was changing from black to a navy blue: the sun was coming up.

He grabbed the doorknob, twisting it and opened the door, then froze. Gaalin stood on the other side of the door, a loaded crossbow pointed at his chest. His lips curled in a snarl, madness in his eyes.

“I thought I heard a rat.” He snapped, pulling the trigger on the weapon; letting loose the arrow that was notched, piercing Eskil’s chest.

 

 

Libelle’s eyes widened, while everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The arrow flew through the air, striking Eskil’s chest and plunging into his flesh. Aimed perfectly to find its mark beneath the arm wrapped around his neck. She heard Eskil gasp, the sound striking her ears like a clash of metal. His eye’s widened, blood spilling past his lips as he coughed once, twice, and with the third he looked down at the barbed spike.

He stumbled backwards, his feet slipping out from beneath him and he fell to the floor. His breathing became a struggle, his inhale becoming a choke and with his exhale more blood coughed up from his lungs. Libelle pushed herself up, her voice lost to her as she cupped his cheek in her hand.

He stared at her with a weak, his red eyes already fading. “Beloved…” He whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Libelle watched as his expression became blank, he went still. Her heart shattered into a million pieces, she felt her entire soul crumble apart and her mind ached. She forced out a whisper, “No.” The pain she felt now, it was unlike anything she had ever felt before. The loss of her lifemate.

“No!” She screamed and cried, tears once again welling in her eyes and pouring down her face. She felt Gaalin wrap his cold fingers around her wrist, trying to pull her up from Eskil’s body. She jerked away from him, crying out again.

“Libelle,” He spoke gently. “I’m sorry that you had to see that, if only I had finished him earlier.”

His grip around her wrist tightened and he jerked her upwards again, “My dear! Your nude!” He sighed. “That beast, dragging you away from me while you're undressed? Here, wear this for now.”

Gaalin pulled a cotton undergarment from the pack he had set on the ground, trying to pull it over her head as she screamed and cried, her body flailing wildly as she tried to get away from him. He chuckled, twisting both her wrists in one of his hands and struggling the long gown over her head. She kicked at him, trying to break free from his hold as he slid her hands through the arms of the gown and smoothing it down past her waist. She drug her heels in the mud despite the incredible pain in her ankles, while he led her across the ground towards the carriage he had already loaded.

“Let me go!” She screamed. “Let me go! Eskil! Eskil, please wake up!”

Gaalin rolled his eyes, “Libelle the beast is dead, leave his corpse to rot. We have places to be.”

He turned and smiled at her, his lunacy reaching a point she never knew was possible. He truly believed that she belonged to him that she loved him, and all of her relationship with Eskil was simply… not possible.

She gritted her teeth, growling past her tears. “You bast-!”

Her shout was interrupted as Gaalin’s balled fist slammed into her teeth. “I’m sorry Libelle,” He chuckled as she nearly collapsed. “-I can't have you using words like that against me.”

She spat out blood, “Let me go, I won't go with you.”

“Libelle, you don't have much choice. Come now, get into the wagon.”

“No!”

He sighed, “Please don't make this harder than it has to be.”

“No, I won't go with you!”

“Libelle, just get into the wagon.”

“No!”

He yanked her hard, forcing her to stumble forward and fall onto her knees. “Libelle, you are my-!” He paused, his expression twisting with surprise as his jaw dropped. “No… It’s not possible.”

“Let. Her. Go.”

The ground beneath them trembled, as the deep voice echoed, causing ripples in the pools of water around them. Gaalin released her arm and took a shaky step backwards, the dark aura swirling behind Libelle becoming more threatening and powerful with each passing second. She slowly looked over her shoulder, another flood of tears assaulting her sore eyes.

Eskil was pushing himself to his feet, his legs trembling as he supported himself against the wood door frame. He coughed, spitting up blood while his red eyes locked onto Gaalin who was still stumbling backwards. His fingers twisted around the arrow, ripping the barbed blade clumsily from his chest. Another burst of blood came with the arrow head, as did a faint, magical glimmer of violet. Eskil rightened himself, standing tall and squaring his shoulders. His red eyes flared to life, the burning in them shining like great fire.

He took a step towards them, “Damned gray skin,” he snarled. “-you harmed my lifemate. You shall pay dearly for that.”

Gaalin panicked, turning and running to the wagon he had readied. Eskil continued slowly walking towards him, pausing beside Libelle to caress her cheek. “Beloved, wait here. I’ll be done in just a moment.”

His gentle smile towards her faded into a dark, threatening glare at Gaalin as the drow found the blade he had been digging for. He spun around, raising it above his head to strike at Eskil except he was too slow, and Eskil’s large hands wrapped around his neck and tightened like a vise-grip. Gaalin let out a gargled scream, dropping the sword to claw at Eskil’s forearms as he was lifted from the ground.

“You threatened her, you hurt her, and you made her cry.” Eskil growled, hurling the man through the air where he crashed into the large trunk of a tree. His back unnaturally bending as the impact forced another scream from the man’s mouth. Eskil instantly collapsed, clutching his head in pain.

Libelle tried to push herself up to her feet, but her own pain shot through her ankles the moment she tried to put weight on them. “Eskil, the spell…”

He cursed, shaking his head and pushing himself up again. “I don't care. I will kill him.”

Quickly approaching Gaalin who was on all fours coughing, he raised his foot up into the man's ribs: an audible crack heard with his screech. “What you did to her, you can never be forgiven for it. You will suffer in Hel for all eternity!”

He picked the drow up by his throat again, slamming him backwards into the tree. Wincing as he fought his own pain. Gaalin screamed in frustration, clawing at Eskil’s arm again when suddenly he equipped himself with a dagger from his belt. He buried the blade into Eskil’s shoulder, sinking it deeply above his collarbone.

Eskil’s stare became even more beastly, he threw Gaalin to the mud beside the wagon and ripped the blade from his shoulder. Another wave of violet magic came with it, yet Eskil’s physical appearance began to change. His tan skin was turning ebony, and engulfing his entire body was swirling colors of black and purple. Their appearance became thicker and richer, growing in size around him.

“St-stay back!” Gaalin screamed, suddenly rushing towards Libelle and grabbing her hair. He jerked her head backwards, and held a dagger to her throat, smirking as if he had won when Eskil stopped his advance.

The roar that erupted from Eskil’s throat sounded loudly across the land, shattering the glass windows on the house, and sending quakes through the ground. The roar was more beast like than man as all of his rage seeped into it. Libelle cried out when Gaalin tried to return her to her feet, the both of them collapsing into the mud when an explosion of magical energy burst from Eskil’s body.

In the very early morning light, through the pitter patter of rain drop, the ball of shimmering energy clung in a massive orb around Eskil. The sound of his breath passing his flaring nostrils, of his heavy limbs slamming against the ground, of his throaty hiss… sent waves of terror through the dark elf.

Through the cloud of magical energy emerged Eskil in his true form, his scaled body in all its glory stepped out past the dense fog. Eskil chuckled, shaking his massive body and stretched his long ebony wings. His heavy tail slammed down against the ground, and his ivory fanged mouth opened wide with a spark of flame at the back of his throat.

Libelle turned, twisting her hand into a fist and slamming it into Gaalin’s chin. Sending the drow falling backwards, his grip releasing her hair while she dropped flat to the ground. Seconds later Eskil’s fiery breath spread heat across her back, yet consumed Gaalin in the blaze. He screamed, collapsing into the mud and rolling from side to side.

Eskil moved closer, each step sending another quake through the earth. He carefully stepped over Libelle, shielding her from the rain with his wing. He growled again while looking down at the drow, his flesh burnt and muscle was exposed; yet his body was not charred to a burnt crisp, the flames extinguished by the pools of water around him.

Eskil’s jaw opened again, this time snapping down onto Gaalin’s legs and lifting the screaming man into the air. His fangs piercing the dark elves flesh as he wailed, grabbing at Eskil’s nostrils. He paused, making eye contact with the petrified gray-skin.

“Die.”

Eskil snarled, clamping his teeth together while vigorously shaking his head. The servant’s blood hit his tongue, and he threw the separated torso into the tree line while spitting his legs elsewhere. The bastard’s soul would forever be tortured in oblivion, he would see to that.