Her Dragon To Slay(50)

Aidan just sat there looking at nothing out of glazed eyes. He guessed he should feel sorry for all that his brother had been through but why the hell should he care? For days, weeks, months, he had lain in that dungeon, sure his real brothers and those he had thought of as brothers, would come for him. He just knew his brother would be able to feel that he still lived and would rescue him, but no one came.

Months he had lain there starving, his dragon clawing to get out. He had called out in mind speak of their kin until his head throbbed and his vision blurred. Finally he had given into the madness. When he resolved that all hope of rescue was lost, he began to plan his survival and plot his revenge.

First, he had to convince the wizards they had broken him, make them believe he would do whatever they wanted. He played the part masterfully and those fools had bought his deception without a second thought. They were so focused on the spell to combine his power with the blood of the mage that had transferred the original dragons to their chosen; they paid little attention to him except to keep him clothed in silver chain mail to subdue his dragon magic. The pain was a small price to pay to be privy to their plans and learn magic he never knew existed.

He showed no resistance and slowly they lowered their guard around him. It was as though they forgot who he was. One day a young wizard had been sent to bring him his food and prepare him for another ritual to siphon more of his dragon magic. The wizard actually sat down and started to talk to him. He asked about Andrew’s past and told him of his. The young wizard relaxed. Andrew felt the magic they all used as protection when in his presence, slip away. That one moment of trusting naivety had cost the young man and ultimately all those of his coven their lives.

He took the opportunity to shed the chain mail and don the dead practitioner’s robe. He stole through their stronghold and joined the ritual already in progress. Because he was so much taller than the one that now lay dead in his cell he received many weird looks but no one dared to question him. He could recite the verses from memory after being present for so many of their rites. He chanted along while his dragon magic strengthened and flowed through him, fed by his anger and need to make the wizards pay for what they had done to him.

It came the time in their ceremony for his dragon magic. They looked for the young wizard. One of the elders headed for the door leading to his quarters. He threw the dead wizard’s robe off, letting his magic free with all the force of a Dragon Guardsman but this time fueled by hate and rage, as well as tainted by the black magic of the wizards’ rituals.

He turned their magic against them. The skin was torn from their bodies, their muscles melted from their bones and all the while he stood and watched. He had relished their screams of terror and pain. It fed the hatred that had taken up residence in his soul. There was nothing left of the noble, chivalrous Dragon Guardsman he had once been. He knew in that moment he had to destroy the Dragon Guard, the men with whom he shared a blood oath, each having sworn their fealty to the other. It was all lies. Everything he had been fed from a small child was bullshit and the only way to make the pain and torture he had endured not be in vain would be to watch them die, as well. But first he would settle his score with the hunters. He learned from the young wizard that the hunters had been instrumental in his capture, so they also had to pay.

He was shaken from his memories when Aaron yanked him up by his arms nearly dislocating his shoulders. “You’ll ride back to the clan with me. I’ll carry you in my paw. You try anything stupid and I promise I’ll run you through with my talon.” His older brother looked him square in the eye. All he found in those cobalt blue orbs was hate and anger. “No one would hold it against me. You are a pitiful waste of space. Had Rayne not ordered you taken before the Elders, I would end you myself.”

“Sorry to be a disappointment to the family, brother.” Andrew met his brother’s eyes and sneered.

“Don’t push your luck, asshole and don’t ever refer to me as your brother again. What you suffered is tragic but what you did after you were free is unconscionable. You could’ve come home. We would’ve helped you heal and handle those responsible for your torture but instead you chose revenge and now it will be the death of you.”

With no warning except the feel of magic in the air, Aaron called forth his dragon and grabbed Andrew. He tipped his large head to Aidan and in an instant there were two silver dragons looking out over the ledge preparing to return him to the clan he had renounced, to die.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

With a single flap of his wings Aaron was airborne. He looked over his shoulder and saw Aidan rising into the air as well. He straightened his long neck and turned towards the direction of the lair, dreading the return and the shame he felt on so many levels. He was flying along on autopilot, replaying the events of the day. Lost in his thoughts, he totally missed Andrew moving within his paw. It wasn’t until he felt something pierce the skin between his toes, one of the most sensitive places on a dragon, that he realized his younger brother was not giving up without a fight and he had been caught unawares.