Jules kneeled, wiping his hands on one beta’s jacket. The man shrieked at Jules’s approach. Jules hissed, the sound so dragon-like even Elouan wanted to tremble. Jules stepped back, revealing the damage he’d caused. Both the beta’s faces bore claw marks. One would be lucky not to lose an eye. The other gripped his stomach.
They’d live since dragons healed faster than humans, but they wouldn’t be pretty, and they wouldn’t be up to fighting for a while.
“C’mon.” Elouan rested a hand on Jules’s arm, the sleeve sticky with blood. “Are you hurt?”Please, Goddess, let him be okay.
Jules shook his head . Thank the Goddess! Elouan wrapped his mate in an embrace, breathing deeply of his scent, then helped him strap on his helmet and secure his jacket.
He fired up the bike, waiting while Jules climbed on.
They roared into the night, several angry dragons screeching behind them.
Chapter Twenty
Elouan guided the Harley through darkened streets, very aware of the dragon against his back. Something had happened when the guardians died that made Jules detectable as a dragon, beyond the bond the two of them now shared. The concealment spells were gone. At least one portal had opened. So, where was Sakaris?
One way to find out. Elouan headed out of the city, weaving through the evening traffic, Jules nestled against his back. There was so much Elouan needed to say, to ask, just as soon as he found a safe place to stop. But oh shit! Jules could partially shift? Very few dragons possessed the ability. Most of them were betas who used the skill in fighting.
An omega? Why would an omega need such a skill?He just showed you why.Yeah, he did.
They pulled into a truck stop about thirty miles out of town to grab snacks, fill up the Harley, and let Jules attempt to clean off blood in the bathroom.
Then, they hit the road again. The Harley’s rumbling growl sounded different at night, and city scents gave way to the smell of grass and oncoming rain. As many times as Elouan had visited this location over the years, hoping, he’d never gotten results. Maybe tonight would be different.
He turned off the paved road, pulling to a stop in a parking lot with a lone car parked out of sight from the main road. Curtis’s. Good. He’d followed instructions.
“We hike from here,” Elouan told Jules. “Are you able?”
Jules nodded. He hadn’t spoken since they’d left the fight. They hiked down a well-worn trail, relying on their dragons’ night vision and a cellphone flashlight.
A man-made cave appeared, an abandoned attempt to blast a railway tunnel into a mountain many years ago. Elouan wrapped an arm around Jules’s trembling shoulders and entered. Was that a shimmer at the far end?
“Sakaris!” Elouan shouted. “If you can hear me, I need you!”
“Of course you do. I’m told I’m highly valuable.” The voice came from behind.
Elouan whirled, reaching toward his waistband and the gun hidden there.
“I assure you that self-defense isn’t necessary. I was just on my way to get you. Seems one of my ilk unsealed the passage between realms. You remember your uncle’s pet mage? Overly fond of purple?”
Relief warred with apprehension in Elouan. On the one hand, Sakaris might be his salvation. On the other hand, if Sakaris now worked for Urien, he’d brought Jules into a trap.
Sakaris shifted his attention from Elouan to Jules. “Hello, Prince Jules. I’m very pleased to see you. I came as quickly as I could once I heard of the plot to end your life.”
“What’s going on?” Elouan demanded.
“A concerted effort from some dragons in the human world and those in our own. They wish to create chaos. They don’t actually know what the results will be, but they’ve convinced themselves that all their problems will simply go away,”—Sakaris made a “poof” gesture with his hands—“if every ruling dragon suddenly finds themselves dead.”
So much scheming made Elouan’s head spin. “While some leaders might be corrupt, without some system of government, dragons will fight dragons until there are none of us left.”
“Precisely. Though I must tell you that our numbers have dwindled since you left. That’s not our only issue, however.” Sakaris conjured a mage light, illuminating his wrinkled face. He appeared to have aged far beyond a mere three years. His shoulders were decidedly more stooped, with more lines on his face, a tiredness around his eyes.
“There’s more?” Please let it not involve Uncle Urien.
“Your uncle has declared war on what remains of the other courts. While solidifying dragons under one leader and ending the fighting is commendable, or would be under anyone but your uncle, I’m afraid the end is upon us. The Goddess has commanded you to come home and take your rightful place.”
“What about those who say I must take a mate to rule?”
Sakaris barked a laugh. “What do you call our young Jules here? You haven’t bitten him yet, but that’s more of a formality than a necessity. Oh, wait. It seems I do see fang marks on your necks. Congratulations.”