Read Marked by the Dragon King Online

Authors: Caroline Hale

Tags: #Romance, #New Adult & College, #Paranormal, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Coming of Age, #Paranormal & Urban, #Sword & Sorcery, #90 Minutes (44-64 Pages), #Werewolves & Shifters, #Witches & Wizards

Marked by the Dragon King (4 page)

“Melinda? What’s going on over there?” Mags calls from the other end of the library. “We’re about to go home, there’s no way we’ll get through all of this tonight and for all we know they’ll be back to tear it apart again tomorrow.” I look around and see that Fee has hidden somewhere.

“I was just leaving Mags,” I call out, hoping that she won’t come investigate.

“Melinda,” Fee whispers from behind the books I just spelled to their shelves. “You have to come with me! The other Guardians will need to see the symbol. We can help you…”

I briefly consider her offer, but I can't. All I can see when I look at her is lies. “No. I’m not going anywhere with you Fee. Not after what you’ve hidden from me for all these years. I thought you were my friend,” I snap at her. “I need time to think,” I say, grabbing my bag and heading out of the library.

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

 

I walk through the dark, damp tunnels that lead to Uptop with my thoughts racing. It’s all so confusing. How could Fee not tell me that she was watching me? Like I’m some kind of damn science experiment. My one and only friendship in the whole world is a sham!

And then there’s Ash and the other candidates… I don’t even know how to process that. It makes me sick to my stomach.  The way he touches me… not the freaky stuff, but everything else. The way he looks at me, holds me so closely, his desperate kiss, his beautiful laugh… He likes to be in control, sure, but it doesn’t feel like he owns me. Like he wants to rule over me. It feels like he needs me. Like I’m the most important thing in the entire world, the only thing that matters to him. Does anyone else feel this way? Does he just forget I exist and move on to the next redhead he finds in the dark?

If this is some kind of demented competition and the ‘winner’ gets to be his slave, I am out. My father treats his wife like that, and that’s how he used to be with my mother. There’s no fucking way I’m falling into the same trap, I don’t care how rich and powerful Asher will be.

My mind’s image of him with that infuriating cocky grin fades into a snapshot of his heartbroken eyes searching for me as I disappear. Regardless of his intentions, I still have to find a way to get him out. I don’t have it in me to abandon him there. He’s been in those caves for so long, it has to be awful. But once he’s out, if he thinks I’ll just… Grrr!

Maybe I'm meant to be alone. Everyone can just go to hell! My rage sends tingles of energy through my body. The sensation reminds me that even with everything else going on I finally have magic. It's so confusing being happy and pissed and worried at the same time. I need time to think in the only place that I can count on being alone. Home.

____________

 

It’s extremely difficult to fall asleep when you’re this is angry at someone. Is that how this works? Am I in some kind of competition to fall asleep because whoever nods off first gets the night with Asher? I am going to strangle him when I get in there. Unless he’s with someone else. Then I’m going to strangle her too!

I’ve been tossing and turning for over an hour. I need to fall asleep, there’s no way the other candidates are still awake. They can probably just cast Sleep and start frolicking with Ash. Hey, maybe now I can too.

In draw in a breath of cool, moist air and know that I’m in the catacombs. A smug smile of satisfaction spreads across my face. I wonder if everyone else feels this energized and alert after casting. It’s so strange, I’ve never been so lucid in the dream world. It’s dark, so I hold out my hand and imagine a ball of bright light. Focusing, I say, “Light,” and my imagined orb of brightness hovers over my palm. I could get used to this.

A loud roar and hiss echo through the stone tunnel. Forcing my feet into a jog, I follow the noise and find Ash staring down at a gasping basilisk. He reaches into its mouth and wrenches a fang from within, a beatific smile stretching across his face as he wipes his bloody palm on his pants. The fang begins to glow as the basilisk chokes on its last breath and then slowly fades until he's holding nothing.

That triumphant grin morphs into confusion and even though I try to keep my guard up, my heart breaks for him. How many times has he been through this? It’s literally been thousands of years and every time it probably feels like the first.

“Asher.” My whisper echoes off the cavern walls as he turns around. On cue, a basilisk’s call competes with me for his attention, but as soon as our eyes meet, the beast doesn’t have a chance.

Ash strides over to me, pushing his dark hair out of his eyes and revealing a seductive expression. The veins in his arms stand out against his toned biceps. My eyes rake over his body appreciatively as his do the same to mine. The oblique muscles running down his front end in a V shape that disappears into his pants make my mouth water. I can’t help but smile back at him, my stomach fluttering as my heart skips a beat.

He skims his thumb across my cheekbone. “I know you,” he says.

I interlace my fingers with his, kissing the tendons on his wrist. Always the first time, yet not. Sometimes we recognize each other right away, sometimes it takes a while, but it’s always that first time rush before the comforting familiarity hits. That’s the way it usually is for me too, but this time I’m not as out of it as I usually am. Ash lifts me into the air and whirls me around, making me squeal. His laughter is contagious and mine only encourages him.

The heightened awareness only enhances how amazing it feels when his lips meet mine. But we really need to talk and… crap, why did he have to start kissing my neck? All of my very important concerns start to slip into the background as his mouth works its way lower. I suppose I could indulge just a little bit before I ask him about…

My jealousy flares and suddenly the promise of carnal delights isn’t as enticing.

“Stop it,” I demand, pushing against his shoulders.

His lips still against my collarbone. “You can’t tell me to-” he stammers, lifting his face to mine. “Why don’t you want me to… You never tell me to stop.”

“You were about to say that I
can’t
tell you to stop though, weren’t you?” I shoot back.

“Yes, I was.” His words are nearly a snarl, but his eyes widen and he takes a step backwards, almost like he surprised himself.

“Do you have
any
idea how screwed up that is?”

Ash starts to say something back, his face warped with confusion. “I don’t understand why you’re angry. I don’t want to hurt you.” He doesn’t get it. Why would he? Ash doesn’t even know where he is right now, he’s stuck on repeat. And it’s not like I don’t fall into his arms every time I see him.

He closes the distance between us tentatively and I just can’t help myself, not with those lonely eyes of his. They stay open as his lips press against mine, gauging my reaction. The moment I kiss him back, any trace of that hesitation goes up in flames as those dark eyes flare. I’m all his and he totally knows it.

I don’t resist at all when his hand slides into my hair and tightens into a fist. Or when he growls, plunging his tongue deeper into my mouth as he drags us to the cold rock floor. For a moment, I start to get a little angry when I hear stitches popping as his hand slides under the strap of my gown and tears it down my shoulder. It’s just a dream.

It’s not a real dress, it doesn’t matter. Like what we’re doing doesn’t really matter. Like I probably don’t really matter.

“Stop,” I breathe.

“Lindy,” he says, his voice full of frustration. “I need you.” Ash pulls my bottom lip between his teeth and bites it gently.

“I said no, Ash.” I shudder as his hand slides up my thigh. “Please stop.” He growls, clamping his mouth onto mine until my mind starts to shut off. My legs spread against my will. I’m not sure if he pushed them apart or my body’s primal urges are taking over. “I don’t want to,” I whimper.

Drawing in a hitched breath, his ravenous mouth pulls away from my throat. “Why?” he asks, lifting his face. He looks so hurt. The hardness pressing against my leg softens, but doesn’t disappear.

“I’m just not in the mood.” It just confuses him more, every part of my body language tells him that I obviously am. I don’t have the heart to accuse him right now, not when he’s reeling from the rejection. A hiss echoes through the cavern as he sits upright, pulling my dress back down. The basilisk calls again and my stomach sinks as I watch Asher’s eyes grow distant. “Please don’t go,” I beg.

“Why shouldn’t I?” he replies icily. “You don’t want me.”

“Yes, I do. I just need to talk to you first.”

“We could have talked afterwards. We always do, at least when you’re in the
mood
to stay with me.”

“I don’t… Ash I can’t control that,” I explain as he rises and turns his back to me, succumbing to the lure of the monster. “Please, don’t go after it. Not yet,” I plead, scrambling to me feet.

Asher sighs, peering at me from over his shoulder as he debates taking another step away. “There’s no point anyway,” he says, spinning to face me. “I’ve just killed ten in the last few hours, and they simply… vanish. Only once was I able to rip a fang out before the light went out in its eyes, but it disappeared when the beast finally died.”

“You remember killing them?” I ask.

“Yes. I’ve probably killed a hundred since you left me the last time, teased and unsatisfied, I might add,” he huffs. “But it’s always the same. They’re just gone and I’m still stuck here.”

“What else do you remember?”

“I don't know… it’s everything I can’t remember that keeps bothering me. But one thing sticks out. There shouldn’t be any basilisks here,” he growls, his eyelids fluttering as it tempts him with its call. “We killed them all. I ripped out the last one’s fang
so
long ago, I can see it when I close my eyes. It glowed like a hot coal and I gave it to a powerful shaman, but I can’t see his face when I try. That was the last fang, Lindy. If there had been anymore of those wretched creatures alive, he would have known.”

“Asher, you said ‘we.’ Who is we?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see them, but I think I miss them,” he whispers, his eyes watering before his jaw clenches. “I was younger then, much younger, barely more than a boy. I killed the last basilisk myself. It was a behemoth. I didn’t think I could do it, but it fell. Like all the rest before it,” he says with a laugh. “There was a great fanfare, a huge celebration. I remember feeling so important, there was so much cheering. But then… it got dark.”

Ash shudders, inhaling raggedly. Instinctively, I find myself moving closer to him, my fingers skimming across his furrowed brow. Our eyes meet as he kisses the palm of my hand. Even if he has been… God, I can hardly even think about it. It’s not his fault. He has to be so lonely down here. He picked me, officially now. Obviously whatever he did snapped him out of it in a sense. And now he’s even more lost.

“The next thing I remember is you,” he whispers, tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear.

“Me?”

“I heard you crying. I found you, down that way.” He jerks his chin towards one of corridors. “There was a fizzling light spell between your hands, it wouldn’t stay lit. You were alone in the dark, too. Don’t you remember?”

“I do,” I whisper, blushing like a schoolgirl as I grin. Hell, I was a schoolgirl. I haven’t thought about that dream in years. “You startled me when you put your hand on my shoulder.”

“Yes, I did.” Ash laughs and wraps his fingers into mine. “And you startled me when you tossed that chaotic orb of sparks into my face.”

“That’s right. It made you sneeze.” I was only fifteen at the time and trying desperately to get my magic to work. He seemed to be around my age then. They might have imprisoned him as a kid, but he’s definitely a man now. He's thousands of years old, but I’ve watched him grow. It doesn’t make any sense.

“My memory is fuzzy after that,” he confesses.

“We just sat and wondered where we were,” I recall. “I got scared when I couldn’t tell you my name. You couldn’t remember yours, either. I was cold, so you lit a torch by blowing on it. Then you put your arm around my shoulder and we just waited.”

“Then what happened?” he asks. A loud chittering call answers his question. Asher blinks at me, like he’s trying to fight it, but the light in his eyes gets dimmer.

“That happened,” I say, squeezing his hand.

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