Heart Of The Dragon (Her Dragon's Bane 3) (10 page)

Slipping onto the bed next to her, he drew her tightly to him, their bodies fitting together perfectly. “I love you, Serena,” he said.

She leaned back against him, raising a tired arm and tucking it behind his head. Turning to kiss his lips, she said, “I love you too, Connor. No matter what happens, I always will.”

“Tomorrow we will either succeed or fail. Whatever the outcome, we will live our lives to the full. You are my mate, for all of eternity.”

***

They slept, wrapped together, under the covers in this strange place. It was late evening when a knock on the door woke them. Connor went to open it, pulling his pants on as he went.

Serena lay still, her heart thumping with fear while he spoke to the man outside. She couldn’t tell, but she thought it was Kier.

A brief exchange in quiet voices, too low for her to hear. Then the door closed and Connor came back to her, a tray of food in his hand. He placed it on the bed, and then said, “We eat, and then we leave to prepare for the next trial.”

“Are we going together?” She hated the thought of being separated from him again.

“Yes. Together. Dress warmly, and take some spare clothes. I have no idea where we are going or how long we will be away.”

“Or if we will return,” she added.

“We have to be positive, Serena. Surely even a man such as Dòmhnall would not kill a dragon when there are so few of us left.”

“I am not a dragon.”

“But you carry one inside you.” He placed his hand on the swell of her stomach, and smiled at her. “You are to be the mother of my son. The gift you have given me is too precious. Dòmhnall knows that. Anything else that may happen, we can survive.”

“Can we, Connor? What if you had lost today? Would you have looked at me the same way if Marcas had...?” She couldn’t finish the sentence, the thought unbearable.

“It’s never going to happen. We are going to do this.”

He hadn’t answered. His silence was enough to tell her his thoughts. It would have changed the way he felt. They had become mixed up in something that was spiralling out of control. Surely the next trial would be harder, the stakes higher.

“Let’s eat.” She forced herself to pick up some cold meat, and chew it, but she didn't taste it. Her mind too preoccupied on the night ahead.

“So tell me what Tara told you,” Connor said, devouring the food set before them.

Serena sat chewing her food, trying to work out what to share with him. The last thing he needed was to be caught up in the past when their future was at risk. However, they had sworn to never keep anything from each other again. She had to tell him everything.

“How much do you know about your father?”

“Not, it seems, as much as I thought.”

“Did you know Tara had met him?”

“No,” Connor answered quietly, losing interest in the food. “I know he was here. And that Dòmhnall would not share the secret of immortality with him. When he wouldn’t give up his mate, Dòmhnall asked him to leave."

"Dòmhnall doesn't like women much. Especially witches."

"He was fooled into giving something away to a witch. My guess would be that is why my father went to see Tara.”

“Your father spent his life trying to find the spell to unlock his heart. To pass on his immortality. Somehow, when the correct ritual or spell is used, a dragon can pass his heart stone to his mate and that grants her immortality. Your father could never find out how it worked.”

“I remember travelling all over the world with him. He spent his life searching for it. I thought that once my mother passed on he would give up. He never did.”

“He wanted to find out the secret to pass on to his sons.”

Connor nodded. “Of course. And it was the death of him.”

“He never found the secret, but he found Dòmhnall’s heart stone.”

“Tara has it?”

Serena shook her head, and then silently went to her pack and rummaged through it. Returning to Connor, she lifted his hand, opening it so she could place the heart stone on it. Looking into his eyes, she read the awe and wonder there. This was why they had come here. All they needed was the secret of how to unlock it.

“A heart stone. This is Dòmhnall’s? He said a witch had stolen it from him.”

“Yes. Your father tracked her down and took it back. The witch cursed him. And they both died.”

“I knew the moment he died. I felt it, deep inside. But I never knew where or how.” His eyes filled with tears. “I wish he had left it alone, but his life was already over. He died the day my mother did. It’s why I’m willing to risk everything to make you immortal, Serena.”

She sat by the side of him, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head on his chest. “What are we supposed to do with this?” she asked him, glad it was no longer her decision alone.

“You put it away. We might need it as leverage.”

“It’s not safe in this room. They might search it while we're gone. And I’m not sure it would be safe if I carried it. Once Dòmhnall knows I have it, he will simply take it.”

“Then we hide it in the castle somewhere.”

“You don’t think it belongs to Tara?”

Connor shook his head adamantly. “No. It is not ours to give away. It belongs to Dòmhnall. But not yet.”

“You don’t think with his heart stone, he would become more agreeable to telling us the secret?”

“I do not know. But once we have given it to him, there is no taking it back. While we still hold onto it and no one else knows we have it, then we can use it as a last resort.”

“I hope you’re right, Connor. I really do.”

Serena sat upon his back. If he had not been so concerned with her safety, he would have swooped down low over the sea. The thrill of flight made his wings feel light, and energy coursed through him. Here he was, flying with three other dragons. This must be what it was like centuries ago, long before he and Zoah were born.

He contemplated that for a while, as the last rays of the sun disappeared from the horizon. He had felt as though he had lived forever, but he had not. There were years, centuries before he was born, when his father flew like this. He had given it all up for his mate, for Connor’s mother.

There were so many questions. Questions he needed to know the answers to. The stronghold was the home of dragons. He longed to know why. To learn of his ancestors, of all those dragons that walked the earth before he was born. What was there before stone and mortar shaped the castle stronghold?

Now was not the time for questions. Now was the time to enjoy flight, pure pleasure. The smell of the sea, the keen breeze in his face. In the company of more of his own than he thought possible. So long had he and Zoah believed they were the last dragons.

The beat of their wings filled the night. Dòmhnall flew at the front, the course fixed in his head as he led them further and further out to sea. Connor did not know where they were going. He did not care, although he knew he should. All that mattered was the up draft buoying him upwards, and the beat of his dragon heart.

They headed south. Turning southeast to cross the southern edge of France. Then back out over the sea. Steady rhythm. That was the key to keeping up with the others. They appeared to be fitter than he was when it came to flying.

He had missed the freedom of flight. Of going for miles without fear of being seen. He rarely ventured far from home when he was in the city, so this was almost new to him.

It stirred up memories of long ago, and he envied Dòmhnall and his men. They did not live by the same rules, as him. Spellholm gave them freedom. Whereas Connor and Zoah had slowly begun to live in fear. The city was no place for a dragon. He saw that clearly now.

The air was warm, the night breeze a gentle caress. He smelt the air; they were heading towards the Mediterranean. However, they did not turn towards land, instead they continued out to sea. Slowly a small landmass appeared before them, an island. They were heading to Crete.

The journey was too long. After an hour she grew tired, the joy of riding on Connor’s back slipped away. To be replaced by sore legs and aching arms. A dragon was not built for long distances. It was like riding a horse bareback, after a while you long for a saddle.

In her head, she began to design one; there was little else to do. She knew he would never wear it, but it occupied her mind.

The other dragons flew alongside Connor. At first, Serena had been surprised that they had let her travel on Connor’s back. However, she realised there was nowhere for them to run to out here above the vast oceans.

Not that they had any desire to run. The only reason they were here was because of the secret only Dòmhnall knew.

Her mind wandered back over the story of how the Dragon Lord had lost his heart to a witch. It must have hurt his pride, and hardened his heart beyond imagining. To be so betrayed. In many ways, she could sympathise with his actions. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to condone the way he had exiled Connor’s parents. What a harsh sentence, when there was no real harm. He was simply doing what dragons were meant to do, mate and procreate.

How was the species supposed to live on if no dragons were born? Was Dòmhnall content for the remaining ones in the stronghold to be the last? Or was he simply insane, the loss of his heart stone sending him mad?

One thing she knew. To be cut off from his brothers, must have been nearly as hard as losing his true mate to old age. She could feel the excitement, growing inside Connor. The feeling of belonging as he flew with the dragons of Spellholm. To have this ripped away must have caused Connor’s father such heartache.

A sadness settled on her, with each mile they flew, a sense of loss and regret covered her. Maybe it was due to the feeling of distance that engulfed her when Connor was a dragon. She couldn’t talk to him; she couldn’t share things with him. The darkening night only emphasised her loneliness. As mile after mile of sea passed under them.

***

The place they landed was new to her. It was an island, but not the same one Connor had taken her to when he threatened to abandon her. This island was warmer, and a lot bigger, filled with the sound of people and animals. Children giggled on the beach. Splashing as they made their way down to paddle in the warm sea.

Serena closed her eyes. Imagining they were here to relax and mingle with the tourists. But she couldn’t fool herself for long. Not when she was here with Arran and Kier. While Connor was elsewhere with Dòmhnall.

Marcas had been left behind with a wounded chest and a wounded pride. Raal stayed behind too, to look after Marcas and Tara. She only hoped Marcas was wounded enough to keep him bedridden. Otherwise, what if Marcas managed to kill Tara to silence her before they returned?

“Here,” Kier said. He pointed to a passageway that disappeared deep underground. With those words, Serena forgot all about Tara.

“You want me to go down there? Why? What’s down there?”

“Just do it. The sooner you go down there, the sooner you will be able to rescue your mate.”

“Rescue? What do you mean rescue?”

He laughed, and her blood chilled. She had presumed she would be placed in danger. With Connor being given the task of trying to free her again. Her nerves coiled in fear at being the one who was supposed to do the rescuing. That wasn’t who she was.

Going down out of the heat, she shivered, a sense of dread seeping into her bones. “Where does this lead?” she asked apprehensively.

“You are going to pay an old friend of ours a visit,” Arran said. He pulled a rough sack from his jacket and shoved it over her head.

“Get off,” she shouted at him, trying to scratch him, kick him, anything to get him to take it off. Instead, he grabbed her hands and bound them behind her back.

“If I was you, I would keep very quiet. You really don’t want to disturb the beast who lives down here.”

“What beast?” she asked, her voice muffled.

“If you’re lucky, you’ll never know.” He pushed her forward, making her stumble. She put her hands out to save herself. Her fingers encountering a rough stonewall, scraping her skin. “Walk.”

She held her hands out in front of her, and when a gap appeared, she floundered for a moment. “Help guide her, or we’ll be here too long, and the beast will get us too. The last thing I want is to fight him,” Kier said.

Hands grabbed the rope around her wrists and she walked clumsily along. Occasionally she tripped, but she didn't crying out. Silence might be her only friend down here.

However, it wasn’t easy. Walking quietly, hands bound, in near darkness and in fear of your life was a skill she didn't possess. Connor had said Dòmhnall would not risk the safety of the baby inside her. With each step she took, down twisting and turning pathways, she knew he was mistaken.

Kier led the way. Serena was aware of twists and turns, slight inclines and then sharp slopes. She sensed they were going down further and further into the depths of the earth. Her only comfort was that they had heard no other sounds. So the monster who dwelled here must surely be asleep, or elsewhere. That was it; perhaps he was not at home. She could always hope.

Time stopped having any meaning. Her legs ached from shuffling along and stumbling over small rocks. Kier kept her on her feet, but her wrists were sore again. The rope cutting into her already damaged skin. She longed for it to be over. To know the next part of her ordeal, and above all to know if Connor was down here. Or if he was safe, above ground.

“This is as far as we go,” Kier whispered, so quietly Serena only just caught it. The hood muffled everything around her, giving her a feeling of claustrophobia.

They stopped. The two dragons entered a heated discussion. Should they should untie her hands or leave her defenceless?

“Surely it would be more sporting to let me loose. Or do you want me to die here? Is that Dòmhnall’s plan?”

Kier and Arran whispered again, Serena trying to listen to their words. All she caught was something about Connor and outside. Whatever it was, it ended in their agreement. She would be freed, the rope was cut from her wrists and one of them dragged the hood off her head.