Ember (Dragons of Drake's Crossing Book 2), page 13
Then he would also show her the limits of his powers. Rhyolite had always been disgusted with how generally useless his dragon power was, compared to say Obsidian, who could project fear, or others with rage, or jealousy or panic. Lust? What a sham, he’d thought. Until the first time he’d gone to a human party and used it. The results had been hilarious. He could use his powers to arouse humans to a degree they’d perhaps never known before. But what he couldn’t do was force them to act on it.
They didn’t work specifically. For instance, he couldn’t have made Aimee find him attractive and sexy if she hadn’t already thought so. All she would be is horny. His power didn’t make people want to sleep with the first person that came along. It simply made them want sex. It was a rather fine distinction, he knew that, and in certain situations it certainly might look that way. But if Aimee had wanted nothing more than a friendship with him, even his strongest efforts would have been unlikely to produce any effect, especially since she’d always been sober.
Parties and other sorts of large gatherings were always an entertaining prospect. Or had been when he was younger. He’d tired of it rather quickly however, and rarely even used his power anymore. It was just boring. Truthfully, Rhyolite was rather useless as a dragon when it came to that department. He certainly didn’t live up to the stereotypes of old, at least not anymore, not having messed with humans in decades at a minimum before he’d fought Obsidian the first time.
Stretching his wings, he prepared to head out into the storm, using the falling snow and dark clouds to obscure himself from any observers. Perhaps he would track the helicopter that had been heading north, see if it had indeed been Aimee.
“Rhyolite.”
He paused mid-jump, his head snapping around as he saw a tall human with brown-gold eyes and a haircut that faded in from the bottom to a messy sort of wave. The face, with its strong, classic lines wasn’t familiar, but he would recognize the voice anywhere.
“Obsidian,” he hissed, and spat a ball of flame at the bronze dragon.
Earth rose up like water, forming a barrier between the two. Rhyolite attacked again, this time a solid gout of fire that splashed continuously off the rock shield, melting it. As swiftly as he could turn it into slag, however, Obsidian pulled up fresh rock from the ground underneath him.
Angry at this, Rhyolite reached out to the earth underneath Obsidian, and turned the gentle downward slope into a vertical cliff. There was a yelp and suddenly the other dragon shifter disappeared. He smiled in satisfaction, hoping the bronze dragon would get the message. And if he didn’t, Rhyolite still had plenty of anger to take out on him.
“Are you done yet?” the voice called up from below the new cliff.
“Go away.” He wasn’t interested in talking.
“That was rude.”
The voice came from above him a few moments later.
“I said go away,” he snapped, turning to face Obsidian as he emerged from within the mountain, having transported himself within it to a different position. Now he was perched atop the opening to Rhyolite’s cave.
“I came to talk.”
He growled deep in the back of his throat. Smoke began to curl up from his nostrils, evidence of his building fury. “The last time you came to talk, you drove a dagger between me and my mate. Why should I listen to you again?”
“You should have been more honest with your mate.”
“No, Obsidian. This time it is you who fucked up. The least you could have done is confront me privately, ask if I’d told her. Then given me a day to tell her myself, instead of springing it on me last-minute!”
With the last roar of his words he reached into the ground once more. Obsidian may have moved out and around his cave, but now he was standing on top of stone worked by Rhyolite. Once a dragon had worked stone, it was near impervious to workings by other dragons. It was how they imprisoned one another.
Now the top of his cave melted away like butter. Obsidian cursed as he fell like a stone, but what really made Rhyolite smile was the look of utter shock and defeat as a silver-platinum tail came whipping around. There was a dull thwack , and Obsidian’s human form tumbled across the length of his cave before hitting the far wall and falling to the ground in cloud of rock dust and chippings.
A few minutes later he heard painful coughing. “You know, I’m willing to concede you may have a point.”
“May have a point?” he asked threateningly, turning to look at the bronze dragon.
Obsidian coughed again, this time in politeness. He was trapped, and he knew it. Inside Rhyolite’s cave, he had no protection in the form of earth from his fire. The change from human to dragon was fast, but it wouldn’t be fast enough to stop Rhyolite’s fire from immolating him.
“Face it, Obsidian. You tried to act all high and mighty over me, thinking me the evil enemy, when in truth I am nothing of the sort. Have you already forgotten that when you came here from across the sea, that this was my territory, and you tried to evict me from it? You are the invader, the evil ass. I am nothing of the sort.”
Obsidian rolled his eyes. “I did not come here for you. I came here for my brother. He was in the area, and you were, unfortunately, in the way. He was the much greater evil. If you had left, or submitted, you would have been left alone. But you fought back, which I suppose I should have expected. It was nothing personal.”
“It certainly seemed that way.”
The bronze dragon laughed. “I can imagine it would. But no, I had learned my brother was responsible for a genocide down to the south, and I came to stop him from continuing that. I admit, I have killed humans in the past as well, but only those who bothered me. I have never sought them out.”
Rhyolite frowned. “What color scales does your brother have?” he asked cautiously.
“Purple. Why?”
Rhyolite howled with anger, his neck flipping around as he unleashed blast after blast of fire out into the stormy gray skies, announcing his rage and pain to the world.
“Rhyolite?”
He turned to see Obsidian in his dragon form, crouched warily.
“Are you okay?”
For a moment he contemplated going after Obsidian, right then and there. But no, he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. The bronze dragon had said it himself, he’d come to stop his brother.
“Did you?” he hissed.
“Did I what?”
“Stop him. Your brother.”
Obsidian nodded. “Yes. I imprisoned him shortly after you, locking him away until just recently when humans freed him. After a fight I was able to trap him below one of the mountains again, hoping that perhaps he will see the light.”
“I doubt it. Your brother is pure evil.”
“You act like you know him.”
“He destroyed my people,” Rhyolite explained, slumping as he remembered. Remembered the screams and the burning, and the casual way the purple dragon had batted him from the sky, more like an annoying gnat to the rampaging behemoth than another dragon. “I was too young. Too weak and pathetic to do anything about it. They died because of me, you know. Because I couldn’t stop him.”
Obsidian nodded in understanding, though he said nothing else.
“I wish you had killed him.”
“If he weren’t my brother, I would have. And no, before you ask, I’m not going to tell you where he is. He’s an ass, and mostly evil. But he’s my brother and I need to try and get him to see the good in himself.”
Rhyolite shook, trembling with barely contained fury. “If he tries to kill again, what will you do?”
“Stop him. If I cannot imprison him, then I will kill him.” Obsidian stood up, staring Rhyolite down. “But make no mistake, I will be the one doing it, not you, or any other dragon.”
The titanic beasts eyed one another for a very long moment, before both relaxed.
“You will help me fix things with my mate,” he announced.
“There isn’t much I can do,” Obsidian replied. “But I will try. In exchange, you will help me with something.”
That got his attention.
“I’m listening.”
“I’ve come to believe we have company.”
Rhyolite blinked, his triple eyelids slow to recede, a dragon action indicating further curiosity and explanation.
“Of the winged kind,” Obsidian clarified. “These avalanches. I don’t believe they are natural.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I found a white scale in the snow at the site of the most recent one.”
Rhyolite returned to his human form. “Oh. That would do it. White, you say?”
“Yes. An Ice Dragon has come to Drake’s Crossing it would seem.”
“Why here?” he grumped.
Ice Dragons were trouble. Testy, full of hatred and generally all-around bad, he’d had only a few encounters with them. None of which had been pleasant. They were all generally quite old, and therefore quite powerful. He didn’t relish the idea of going up against one, even with Obsidian at his side. Even together it would be tough. Perhaps too tough.
“My guess is that with my own awakening, others have felt it. Now with you and my brother awake and here, they will be drawn to this place.”
“So, just our luck. We can expect more of this then?”
Obsidian shifted as well, smiling broadly, revealing his perfectly white teeth. “I think Drake’s Crossing is going to see a population boom in the near future.”
Something stirred in his mind as things clicked together and Rhyolite spun to face the opening.
“What is it?” Obsidian asked, coming up next to him.
In the ground, their finely tuned senses detected the rumble of an avalanche. One that didn’t stop.
“Aimee. She is out there. I heard the helicopter.”
“Then she is in danger—”
Whatever else Obsidian was going to say was lost as Rhyolite moved, a blur to anyone who looked as he shot across the floor of his cave, heading for the newly formed cliff he’d dropped Obsidian off of.
Reaching it, he flung himself as high and far out as possible, arms spread wide as he called to the power within himself.
He dipped out of sight of the bronze dragon for a moment, before his silvery-platinum dragon appeared, pulling out of the dive and winging across the sky at breakneck speed as he tried to locate where his mate had gone in the stormy weather.
Hang on, Aimee. I’m coming for you, my love.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Aimee
Backing away slowly, she kept looking up and up as the entire wall seemed to melt away as a dragon the color of ice stepped through, looming up high above her.
A large, taloned foot came down, crushing some of the fallen ice below it into little more than ground powder. Aimee swallowed nervously as she realized that could just as easily be her in a moment. The great being didn’t speak at first, eyeing her as it slithered through the crevice, the ice melting and flowing around it before returning to its earlier position.
It was the most eerily beautiful and yet terrifying scene of her life. Even more than when she’d met Rhys for the first time. The white dragon didn’t even seem to notice as the ice conformed to his bulk and then slipped easily back into place. It was the action of someone so used to doing it that they barely noticed it anymore. Like breathing, it was an action that came with reflex, not thought.
“Well, well, well,” it said at last, sliding up to her more like a snake than a dragon she thought. “What do we have here?”
If stereotypical evil had a voice, she figured this had to be one of the top five results. Just hearing it speak sent shivers down her spine and curdled her gut.
“Uh, hi.”
What the hell, speaking up couldn’t hurt. She was dead, there was no way out, and she’d told Rhyolite to piss off. Nobody was coming to save her.
“It speaks.”
“I do.”
“Excellent. It will make this all the easier.”
Aimee didn’t like the thought of that. Not one bit. She needed to stall. To delay. “Are you a friend of Rhys?” she asked, hoping mentioning his name wouldn’t provoke the massive dragon.
“Who is this Rhys?”
“Uh, right. His name is Rhyolite.”
The white dragon paused for a moment. “No, I have never heard of him. Why would I have heard of some insignificant human?”
“Well, he’s not human,” she said brightly. “He’s a dragon. Like you.”
Yellow eyes blinked slowly as they regarded her. “You have met another dragon before? Yes, yes, that would explain why you do not run or cower in fear, though you should.”
Shit. That just about did it then. Whoever he was, this guy was not here to make friends.
“I’ve met two, actually. Sorry, you’re in unlucky third place on my dragon-meeting list.”
“Interesting. Who is the other?”
“Some dick named Obsidian. Real charmer, like you.”
Well now she’d gone and done it. Her mouth just didn’t know when to shut off sometimes, despite her brain screaming at it to just be quiet . For once.
“Obsidian.” The word came out full of old anger and hatred.
“Oh goody. You two know each other! Fantastic. But what do you want with me? An introduction? I don’t really know where he lives, I’m sorry.”
“No. I am here for a queen. A woman to stand by my side.”
“A queen. Oh wow. Do you have a kingdom then? Are you a king?”
“I will be. I shall start with this pathetic town, and then spread my reign across the rest of this wretched continent.”
Aimee shook her head. “Sorry, not interested. I’ve already had one dragon try to lay claim over me. I don’t need a rebound just yet.”
At just the mention of Rhyolite laying claim to her Aimee felt her skin burn. She hated the sensation. Every time she’d thought of him, her body always reacted this way. It was like his little lust-bomb never wore off! The longer she’d gone without seeing him, without being able to touch him, the worse it got, like he’d worked it into her to get stronger and stronger, so that she’d eventually cave and go back to him. So far only her anger at such a subtle, underhanded tactic was keeping her from giving in and doing just that.
Now though, she desperately wished he could be here to defend her. Her entire professional life she’d worked hard to ensure that she was trained and prepared, ready for any scenario, precisely so that she could be the one that was able to help others. But that was with other humans. Against themselves, or mother nature and the elements. A dragon?
No fucking thanks.
This was well and truly beyond anything she could hope to deal with. It was time to fight fire with fire, but she had no way of calling for his help.
“You will be mine.” The white dragon spoke loudly, the ice vibrating with his voice, spilling her to the floor as it shook unsteadily beneath her.
“Never!”
Behind her ice cracked, the yellow orbs flaring with anger as she shouted her defiance. If she was going to die, she may as well do so not being afraid, resisting until the end.
“YOU WILL BE MINE! I HAVE SPOKEN!”
The walls shattered as the dragon howled its proclamation at her. Aimee curled up into a ball.
“RHYS!” she screamed, wishing he was there.
He would never do this to her. No matter what he’d done, Rhys had always been a gentleman toward her. Except for that first meeting where he’d tried to eat her. But after that, he’d treated her with respect and dignity, always going above and beyond to do right by her. This was not something he would ever do.
Visions of his short brown hair and bright blue eyes played across her mind. His gentle warm touch and booming laugh. The way his nose wrinkled when he was deep in thought, and the sharp lines of his jaw that seemed soft to her touch. Memories of how he held the door for her, or his enthusiastic approval as she tried on outfit after outfit for him, somehow finding things in each one to compliment her about. Then there was the way he’d treated her in the bedroom. Like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, clothed or naked.
His attention to her had been exquisite, and that one night of fateful passion had left her with a thousand memories to relive upon lonely nights. Never once had he pushed her, instead he’d let her call the shots, even as he’d been in control physically.
“Oh Rhys,” she moaned.
She’d never been so wrong about a man before in her life. And now it was too late to do anything about it.
In front of her the white dragon came closer, lifting its front leg high, razor-sharp claws sparkling even in the overcast skies.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rhyolite
He plunged from the sky at breakneck pace, personal safety be damned. The only thing that mattered was reaching Aimee in time.
There was no indication that the Ice Dragon was there with her, but the storm and the increasing frequency of the avalanches—a result of it moving through the mountains most likely—all screamed of impending disaster. That and his gut was telling him that she was in danger. Real, discernable danger. He needed to be there, to put himself between her and harm’s way.
He’d spied the helicopter trailing smoke as it fled back for civilization, but he’d known that she wasn’t aboard. Tracing their path, he flew onward to the one of the more northerly peaks of the range. That was when he’d heard the Ice Dragon roar, and Aimee scream in terror.
Now Rhyolite hurtled toward the white dragon, determined that it would feel pain, and fear. As he closed he opened his mouth and spat forth a lance of black stone nearly ten feet long. It combined with his already considerable speed and flew forward, impaling the Ice Dragon’s foot as it closed on Aimee, wrenching it to the side and pinning it to the ice.
