The Twin Dragons Series: Dragon's Dance
Auteur
C. Swallow
Lezers
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Hoofdstukken
15
Chapter 1
Book 8: Dragon’s Dance
EVERMORE
I wipe a warm towel across the cut on my forehead. It was shallow, but the blood still dripped all over my face—and I was grinning, because I just won.
I had been living alone for almost a year now, just trying to find my path in the Riverbeds, the northernmost point of Requiem City. The small town was home to all kinds of supernatural and beautiful holiday parks, walking trails, and my favorite diner, Gypsy Love.
I was meeting my friends there soon, but right now, I’m laughing to myself as I wipe the blood drops from my cheeks.
Oh, I missed blood.
I missed cutting up my enemies and freezing them with my Fire of Ice. I had only ever done it twice because mostly I was protected and hidden from the world. Thanks to a curse from Jinx, I could use Ice Magic instead of the usual fire.
I had been enjoying feeling freedom while I had lived away from my parents, Storm and Silver. I loved them, but I hated their eyes on me. Always waiting.
Waiting for when I’d break out and be rebellious and dangerous and violent like my Silver Breed often were when young and growing fast. So, around them and for them, I was always a good little girl, smiling sweetly, saying nothing out of place.
But out of their presence, when I was with my two best friends, Fiona and Draco—I could be myself. And I loved us. Together, in our world, we were united.
We were all very different.
I had Storm’s legendary grace and skill when it came to fighting and death—built into the fabric of my Tempest Dragon bones—but I wasn’t allowed to fight. Silvers were empaths and far too addicted to blood when that urge came crashing in, a dragon’s need to hunt.
I felt it all the time, rolling underneath my skin, incredibly powerful.
I had my targets in mind. When I was ready, I was going to fix the problems perpetuating in the dark underworld. There was a secret slave trade, and Fiona was one such female I had saved from it when she was twelve.
Storm took her in off my arm, taught her to fight, and in return for his protection and his guidance as a father-figure, her price was to protect me.
Of course, I thought it was laughable. As if I needed protection. But I wasn’t complaining. Fiona was everything to me. A mage-healer and now a warrior.
Her father had killed her mother when she was a kid, then the bastard sold her into slavery, but she had already found her justice, killing her father after Storm’s training had honed her into a practiced and controlled Shadow Assassin.
It was her first assassination, then she was basically my security guard.
And why would Tempest Dragons—Silver Dragons—be in need of security? Well. My scales were rare, highly valued, and often sold underground. Of course, for that to happen, I would have to be skinned alive.
But I wasn’t worried about being trapped or tricked. I was strong. But mostly, I was simply aware of my innate power. I was the daughter of the most powerful dragon alive.
No one could match my father, and even Storm scared the shit out of me, so I just avoided him. Silver, my mother, was much sweeter, but she was still on his side, so I moved out as soon as I could to find my independence.
Right now, I am just so happy I got jumped by three guys trying to steal my shit out on the street just before. Even though I had been holding an afternoon coffee in one hand, and they yanked at the long strap of the bag and even tried to grab my long silver hair—I fucked them all up.
They might have caught me by surprise when I had been rummaging in my bag with one hand, reaching for my buzzing phone, knowing Draco was calling. In the quiet, empty street, the gang rushed me as they walked by, thinking I was defenseless.
Instead of grabbing my phone, I grabbed my dagger, gifting them all with a few sweet kisses of its fine steel through their sweet guts.
The three thugs stumbled away, limping and dripping red, while I sipped my coffee and admired the blood dotting the sidewalk as they cried and begged for me to spare them. I did. Only so I could hunt them properly later.
Fiona would be so disgusted in me.
Her mage heart was so sympathetic.
But me? I felt everything.
Kindness and rage. Patience and complete impatience. Tranquility and violence.
You don’t fuck with Silver Dragons.
We were the most unpredictable, worse than rogues.
The only other dragon that could handle me was Draco, with his red hair so dark it was almost brown. His dragon mastered rage, and only rage. His Red kind were mostly despised for their out-of-control tempers and out-of-control desires.
They weren’t respected like Silvers, but he had managed to control his raging soul with his unique upbringing.
Draco Perseus Cyrus. Eldest Son of the Roses. A sweet name for a mob of Reds who were directly involved in the slavery of mortals, mages, and even other dragons, including the trafficking of drugs and forbidden magic.
They were a stain on Requiem City. They hid in their fancy houses, with fake connections to real estate, gambling and a few pizza joints. Just the usual ways of laundering illegal money.
But Draco wasn’t evil. He only wanted to protect his mother from his abusive mobster father, so he stayed quiet—he stayed out of the business as much as he could, and he stayed with us when he could.
Fiona and I were his only friends outside of his underworld. It was the only time he could pretend to be normal. Going to the movies with us, or getting ice cream, or chilling by the cherry blossoms in the Riverbed National park.
If we were feeling really cheeky, we’d fly there, but being a dragon in full view of mortals didn’t always go down well. You should protect your identity in this city, even when peace seemed to reign.
Someone always wanted you dead.
And in our little trio? Well, I was a silver princess. Fiona was a healer and an orphan. Draco was a dark dragon prince of the underworld. We shouldn’t have bonded, but when we were together, the world melted away.
Even if we knew all our futures probably spelled trouble.
As our teenage years melted into adulthood.
And right now, we were going to be celebrating Draco’s nineteenth birthday. Fiona and I were eighteen, a few months younger than Draco.
I seriously can’t wait to tell him I stabbed three thugs. He’d be so proud of me.
“Evermore?” Fiona yells through my apartment door, banging repeatedly, “let me in right now!”
“Wait!” I call out as I try to cover the scar on my head with makeup, but of course, it doesn’t work very well. She’ll see it; the sweet healer in her never missed the tiniest scratch on me.
“Now, Evermore!” Fiona starts to scream my name. “EVERMORE! NOW!”
I run out of the bathroom and open the door, holding my hands behind my back as I slyly smile.
“I saw you get jumped outside as I pulled up! I leave you alone for one day, and you get into a fight?” Fiona whispers at me.
“Shh.” I roll my eyes.
“Don’t you use your father’s tone on me.” Fiona is already dressed for the birthday party, in a dress that matches her mauve eyes, and her red fiery hair that reaches her waist in unholy gorgeous curls.
No one had hair as perfect as hers, and her skin was a golden bronze. For a mage, she sure looked like a dragon, and that’s exactly what Draco said when he first met her.
Then she tried to punch him, because she thought he was one of the Roses who had used her. But it wasn’t him who had abused her. It was his father who had been involved in the slave trade.
It took some time, but Draco and Fiona trusted each other now. School forced us together, but it worked.
And I was in the middle. I guess I was the glue? Draco just liked my wicked personality, and Fiona’s shyness mixed with her passion.
Fiona reaches up, and her gentle hand immediately heals the cut across my forehead.
“Thank you,” I murmur, and Fiona smiles as she shakes her head.
“What are you wearing, anyways?” she asks, curious.
“I was thinking of wearing this silver dress.” I step back from Fiona and show her the dress I bought as I dig it out of the bag.
I always wore silver, but I bought a real treat for tonight.
Fiona’s eyes widen when I shake it out to show her. A deep cut down the middle, all the way to my navel, practically no back, but it did have silver straps to hold up the silvery metallic silk.
It felt as thin as tissue paper, but it was strong. I then show her the mirror high heels, so high I’d be tiptoeing in them.
“Put it on,” Fiona whispers. “Draco will faint.”
“Or you will, if you don’t remember to breathe,” I tease her, and Fiona blushes as I grin and start to strip out of my jeans and white top.
When I’m ready to dress, I look down at my panties and bra and twist my lips. “Hmm…”
“Better without.” Fiona reads my mind, and I see her blushing even more when I remove the bra and panties before slipping on the dress in one swipe.
I pull my long silver hair over my shoulders. Fiona grabs the heels and practically lifts my knee for me, putting on my dress shoes one at a time.
“I don’t need your help,” I say sweetly, and Fiona just glares.
“Shh.” She tries to sound mean, but she’s too cute for me to take seriously.
When one heel is on, she lifts my other leg and puts on the second heel. By the time she releases my right knee, I can’t help myself.
I grab her cheeks as she leans back up, shocked by my advance as I kiss her on the lips—a quick, cute peck.
Then I pull back and twirl around Fiona, as I hear her sweet gasp, “Why did you do that, Evermore?”
“Draco told me you wished for nothing more,” I whisper next to her ear, and she spins around to me, the shock keeping her hands frozen in the air.
“He told you that?” Fiona gulps, so shy.
“Let’s go.” I raise a slow brow at her. “It’s just a kiss.”
“Right.” Fiona nods, clenching her fists. “You’re right, let’s go.”
She strides past me, and I slide a hand through her hair delicately, feeling how soft it is. “You know you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, right?” I ask her seriously as we exit my apartment.
Fiona had begged to share it with me when I rented it, but I refused to live with anyone. I liked my alone time.
I often told her she was so beautiful, just to see Fiona blink rapidly with the compliment, unable to accept it.
“You know, we better get there before Draco does, because we organized this.” Fiona changes the topic. “Let’s go. And I am not beautiful. You just say that because you feel sorry for me.”
“Sure.” I shrug, and Fiona side glares at me as we walk. “What?” I grin wickedly. “I’m just agreeing.”
“Bitch.” Fiona actually looks like she might cry, and I suddenly feel awful.
“I’m sorry, I was just teasing you.” I reach for her hand, but she sidesteps further away from me.
“You’re ice cool,” Fiona whispers at me. “You cut harder than you know, sometimes, Evermore. Think of others when you insult them.”
“I do,” I murmur back, feeling myself close off a little.
I loved Fiona, but it was hard to express myself when I felt so much, and she thought I was insulting her when I was just teasing or just interested in her reactions.
I loved her emotions more than anything. She was quick to cry. It was gorgeous.
My phone rings again, and I answer it.
“Draco? We’re on the way,” I answer. “You’re there early, aren’t you?”
“Where are my two women? I’m all alone in my car waiting on you two,” Draco drawls and sighs…he sounds fucked up already.
I give Fiona a knowing look. He definitely had a few drinks today. He hated his birthday because of his father’s expectations…and his heavy hand.
“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” I promise. “Did you at least put on your birthday suit?”
“Yes, yes, the one Fiona bought.” Draco chuckles. “She’d cry anyway if I didn’t wear it.”
“True,” I whisper into the phone. “See you soon, or maybe never.” At least I can tease him, he gets it.
“Evermore, Evermore…always so mysterious,” Draco whispers, suddenly also teasing me back.
But he sounds so sexy. Confusing me. I blush and hang up.
When he did that dark, deep drawl, sounding so much older—it just… It just made me warm and feel all girly.
I had never thought of him that way before, but he had grown insanely tall over the last two years. I used to be his height, now he dwarfed me, especially shorty Fiona. Heh.
I focus on walking, and my heart lightens anyway.
The only time I was truly happy was with my two best friends, and nothing could ruin our time together.
Although what happens at dinner?
Will test us.
The dangerous truth is…none of us should’ve been friends. Ever.
Draco’s kind hunted mine and enslaved mages. Fiona, well, she should hate Draco and me, for her own preservation.
And I should know better than to interact with others who aren’t Silver Breeds.
But even so, our souls united as kids.
That didn’t mean reality wasn’t going to come knocking.
Creeping up on all of us, about to cause us some fucking pain.
And none of us could see it coming.
Even though it was obvious from the start.
