Possessed by a Dark Warrior (3 page)

Taryn edged down the steep slope on her backside, slipping at times, slowly making her way towards the ledge. She breathed a sigh as she crawled onto it and saw that the recess was larger than she had expected, forming a small cave. The rock wrapped around her as she entered it, comforting her as it spoke to her dragon instincts. Many of her kind lived in caves, preferring their ancient habitat to the newer ideal of living in villages.

She was old enough to appreciate a cave, to feel soothed by cool rock surrounding her.

She stopped near the entrance and looked down into the valley, scanning it for any signs of life. Nothing. She scoured the mountains that surrounded the valley and frowned at the far end of it, squinting as she tried to make out the range there. She swore there was a structure built against the mountain, rising out of it. A castle?

Was her brother there?

She moved to the wall of the cave, sat on her backside with her legs crossed, and unfastened the leather strap that cut diagonally across her chest. She removed the thick roll of black cloth from her back and settled it beside her, placing her hand on it and feeling the power vibrating through her palm.

Her cargo resembled nothing more than a rolled blanket for sleeping on, fastened with two leather straps at either end, but it was something precious.

Extremely precious to Tenak.

To others too.

She lifted her hand and touched the thick leather straps that circled her wrists too, feeling the power in those, the same as was in the straps on her cargo. She rubbed her thumb over the Hell beast hide, feeling the symbols carved into the dark brown leather.

Magic.

It concealed the contents of the blanket, and her presence too.

If she removed either the straps on the blanket or the cuffs around her wrist, her brother would sense their presence and come, wild with a need to reclaim what he viewed as his property—both the sword and her.

Taryn closed her eyes and leaned back into the wall, seeking the peace of sleep. It refused to come, her mind throwing images of her journey at her, of battling Hell beasts and avoiding her dragon kin. She had wanted to speak with them so many times, but fear they would blame her for her brother’s crimes had forced her to keep her distance.

Perhaps she should have remained with Loke, a dragon male who was like another brother to her, but she had feared she would bring their kin’s wrath down upon him too and she loved him too dearly to place him in such danger.

Danger.

She shuddered, a sudden cold sweeping through her when she thought about the danger she might be in. Was in. Loke had witnessed a vision of her, a gift born of his more powerful dragon blood, and it had been on her mind since she had collected the sword from him and had left his cave.

She couldn’t help feeling that she was marching towards her death, just as he had seen.

It was part of the reason she had taken so long to finally set out on her journey to face her brother.

She was afraid.

Bone-deep afraid.

She had been through hell the past three centuries, passed between owners as if she was nothing more than a beast, a piece of meat they could attempt to break and drag down into a depraved world where she would think only of pleasing her master. Even though she had endured a life that would have caused many to take their own, she didn’t want to die.

Taryn lowered her gaze to the wrapped sword beside her and rested her hand on the blanket that covered it again, feeling its power resonate through her palm. The sword was all her brother thought about. It was all he desired.

She was risking her life by bringing it here, and by returning to Tenak. If he didn’t kill her on the spot when she revealed herself to him, he might only be luring her into a trap to kill later.

And what if she failed?

What if he took the sword and she couldn’t stop him?

She would have delivered the whole of Hell into his hands.

Gods, she was a fool.

She knew she should take the sword and turn back before he could sense her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

She had sworn to stop her brother seven centuries ago, when she had discovered his plan to steal the sword from the elf kingdom because he viewed the sword as belonging to him, not the elves. It was forged of the blood of their grandfather, one of the strongest dragons to have lived, in ancient times when an elven king had ruled in the mortal realm and her ancestors had been free to fly there. That elven king had captured her grandfather and bled him, pouring his life force into the metal of the blade, and mixing it with a single drop of his own blood.

The blade was power.

The strongest of the elven metals and the strongest blood forged into a single weapon that gave the wielder control over ancient magic contained in the blade. It could cut through any armour or weapon, but its true power was the ability to condense the magic it contained into an arc of pure light that could cut through an enemy horde with one swing.

Taryn had tried to stop him from stealing the sword, but she had failed.

He had taken the blade but she hadn’t given up, and in the end she had managed to steal the blade from him before he could use it.

Now, it was her bait. It was her way of regaining her brother’s trust and stopping him from killing her as payment for her betrayal. She was determined to end everything and she had little time to carry out her plan. She had delayed too long, afraid of facing her brother.

Afraid of facing a world without him.

This was her responsibility though, her duty, and she had to be the one to carry it out.

Because a life in slavery had more appeal, had been better, than a life lived in fear of her brother.

If she didn’t go to him, he would eventually come to her, would leave a path of destruction in his wake as he scoured the realms for her. She had heard the stories. Every few years he ventured out from his valley, razing lands and slaughtering thousands as he hunted for her and the sword.

She had that blood on her hands, but she wouldn’t bear any more. She would end it.

She would use her life in slavery, the one she was trying to leave behind, the memories she wanted to purge, to win Tenak’s trust, pretending that the three centuries of torture she had endured had driven her mad with a need for vengeance, filling her with a thirst to rain dark terror down on all the realms.

Taryn shuddered and curled up, pulling her knees to her chest. She rocked slowly, her eyes locked on the wall across from her, not seeing it as she battled the memories that surged to the surface. She focused on Loke, picturing his face, his bright aquamarine eyes that had shown a wealth of concern when he had handed over the sword and told her of the vision.

Told her of the terrible things her brother had done.

Tenak had grown mad with a hunger for violence, bloodshed and death.

It was that madness that had gripped him that she was going to use to her advantage, making him believe they were infected with the same terrible disease of the mind and they were kindred spirits once more.

Her plan was flawless, but she still couldn’t stop the doubts from creeping in and taking hold of her. She had tried to shake them, but in the end she had realised that nothing she did would silence them, and she had set off on her journey with them echoing in her mind.

Maybe she should have left the sword with Loke.

Her brother was stronger than she was, both in dragon and mortal form. He had killed anyone who had strayed into his kingdom. What made her think that she wouldn’t suffer the same fate?

She was his blood.

His twin.

His other half.

She knew she could make him recognise her, because she had done so in the past. He’d had spells of madness before, back in the days before he had grown obsessed with setting himself up as the ruler of Hell and stealing the sword from the elves to make that happen. She had brought him back to her then, and she could do it again.

She had to be strong and believe in what he had once told her—that he would never hurt her.

He never had.

Even in his darkest rages, he had never raised a claw against her.

If anyone could get close enough to him to end him, it was her. She had to try. If she failed, she wouldn’t be alive to see the horror he would unleash on Hell anyway. He would surely kill her.

Taryn shoved away from that grim thought and refocused on the wall, breathing steadily to centre her mind and steady her heart, and her nerves. She steered her mind towards calmer waters, to thoughts that would soothe her so she could sleep well and gain the rest she needed.

Her head and heart filled with images from better days long past, of her brother and Loke. It had felt good to see Loke again after their centuries apart. He was the only person in Hell she was close to now, the only one she trusted. He meant the world to her, was the brother that Tenak had once been, a very long time ago. Loke had taken care of her for thousands of years, over half of her life, after Tenak had grown distant and obsessed with power.

It was still difficult to think of the things her brother had done in her absence and believe they were true. The male she had grown up with had been gentle, tender and affectionate. How had he grown into one who would lead a legion of dragons to their deaths, promising them power and wealth, and then using them as shields on the battlefield, sending them out first so he could weaken the enemy before claiming victory himself.

Her dearest brother.

She loved him, but since escaping the slavers and learning of the things he had done, she was beginning to wonder whether she only felt that emotion because it was what she should feel for him as her twin. Was she blinded by their bond?

She had truly loved him once, with all of her heart, but she couldn’t condone his plans or the things he had done in their centuries apart, slaughtering masses of demons and fae, and even his own beloved kin.

Taryn closed her eyes and settled her chin on her knees, hugging her legs closer to her chest. Her heart felt heavy behind her breast, weighted with the sins of her brother and her responsibility as his sister, and the black future that awaited her if she succeeded in her mission.

A world without him.

A life alone.

Tears burned hot behind her eyes but she refused them, drawing a deep breath to hold them at bay and blowing it out as she sought calm. She pushed away from her sombre thoughts, not wanting to think about it any more tonight. She just wanted to close her eyes, leave her worries behind for a few short hours, and hopefully, she would feel stronger come the morning.

The comforting arms of sleep drifted around her and he was there waiting for her.

Sinful. Wicked. Beautiful.

The elf.

His sinful smile was in place, those violet eyes shimmering with wicked allure as he gazed at her, casting black magic on her that had her falling ever deeper under his spell.

Taryn shoved away from sleep, forcing herself awake again, afraid of dreaming of the male she knew pursued her. Hunted her. He was always one step behind her in this waking world, but forever one step ahead in the dream one, waiting for her to succumb to the lure of sleep and fall back into his arms. Those strong arms would wrap around her, filling her mind with ridiculous hopes as he drew her against him.

Each dream only strengthened her dragon instincts, making her ache with a need to possess him, to sink her claws into the beautiful male and make him belong to her.

Her finest treasure.

Taryn fought the lure of sleep, the lure of the elf male, but he was too powerful, casting an enchantment over her and drawing her back to him. She was too tired to push him away this time and fell easily into the dream, right into his arms, craving the comfort of him even when she feared he would be the one to kill her.

Just as Loke had seen in his vision.

The dark elf male feathered his fingers across her cheek, the touch so light she shivered from it, and slipped them beneath her chin. He tilted her head up, his violet gaze turning hooded as it dropped to her mouth, filled with delicious intent. She didn’t resist him, didn’t have the strength to deny him this time.

She welcomed the kiss, the tantalising brush of his firm lips across hers that stirred the heat in her veins into an inferno and made her burn for him in her dream, and ache for him in reality.

Hungry for a taste of him.

Her dark warrior.

The mountains seemed endless, stretching as far as his eyes could see across one hundred and eighty degrees of his field of vision. Bleu stood high on a cragged ledge, his back to a black mountain that many in Hell would find forbidding, because it marked the border of the dragon realm. He could see a few flying into the realm, their jewel colours bright against the dull grey sky. He hadn’t lived in the time when dragons had been free to fly in the mortal realm, but he could easily imagine how majestic they would have appeared against a dazzling blue backdrop spotted with pale clouds.

Dragons had been allies of the elves once, so many millennia ago that the only proof they had of their friendship were tattered pieces of the ancient records of the elven kings and queens, scratched onto thick leather now so brittle they would break if someone dared to remove them from the delicate glass case that contained them in the castle.

The castle.

Bleu turned his gaze towards it, instinctively aware of which direction his home lay in, feeling the familiar tug in his gut that told him to return to it. He had business there, and he had never been one to ignore his instincts. They were rarely wrong, and right now they were blaring a warning at him to step back from the dragon realm and seek a safer course of action.

He needed a team if he was going to venture into the realm of dragons and dare to question them about one of their own kind.

It was too dangerous to head in alone.

Dragons were fiercely protective of their own kind, even those they knew had committed a crime that had given their species a black name in the language of the elves.