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The Dragon's Arranged Mate(31)

By:Serena Rose


Along with these rapid, frantic thoughts was the knowledge that I was  quickly weakening. The pain never seemed to abate, but instead grew more  severe with every movement. I am dying, I thought. He will win.

Caside … I heard. Fight for us. Keep fighting, please.

I don't know how much longer I can, I replied.

Then I remembered the satchel Gaeth had given to me before I'd left the  castle. I'd nearly disregarded it, so great was the distraction I felt  in the moment.

Caside! The satchel! Yes! Anabelle cried from within my mind. It's in the satchel!

What is? I asked, and suddenly my mind was filled with a single image.  Hanging from my father's neck. Being held up to me by the beggar.  Anabelle examining it as we laid in bed together on our final evening  before she was taken ill.

The Heart.

I wasn't the only one in the kingdom who had made the connection between  the history of my lineage and the existence of the Heart, it seemed.  Gaeth had come to the conclusion as well, and it would seem at the same  time I had.

My distraction left me vulnerable, and Arthur summoned up one more burst  of power to drive himself into me with a force that knocked the wind  from my lungs. I fell the rest of the way to the ground, feeling my  right rear leg snap as I did. My head bounced against the hard earth and  I felt the scales split to allow blood to pour forth.

I was dazed, disoriented. I opened my eyes and saw the blood-red sky  still roiling above me, but knew not if the color was true or whether  the blood pouring into my eyes had affected my vision.

I rolled onto one side, the motion sending fresh waves of pain radiating  from my center. I looked around, trying to find my bearings. Some  handful of meters away lay my shield, along with the sword that stood  straight up from the ground where I had thrust the blade. I knew that  the satchel lay beneath the shield, hidden from Arthur's eyes.

Where was Arthur? I looked around again, wishing I could wipe the blood  from my face but fearing the repercussions of a shift back to my human  form. I was already in enough pain and danger; even in my dragon  consciousness I knew that my wounds would be fatal if I were to shift to  my weaker shape.

Finally I saw him. He had shifted back to the human form in which I had  first seen him, only now his neck and torso were drenched in blood. I  saw it still pulsing, weakly, from the deep wound I had torn into his  throat.

He looked exhausted, surprised and bitterly disappointed all at once. "I  must admit," he called out weakly from where he stood at the edge of  the cliff, "you were a far more formidable opponent than I had ever  anticipated. Again, my hat is tipped to you."

I paid little attention to his words, instead crawling slowly toward the  small cluster of weapons, which lay just out of my reach. Even in my  pain and exhaustion I knew exactly what must be done. Anabelle didn't  need to tell me; my own instinct was now directing me. I only hoped that  Arthur's love of self-aggrandizement would distract him just long  enough to do what I needed to do.

He saw me there, and noticed that I was struggling to reach the sword  and shield. He laughed, albeit more weakly than he had earlier, before  our battle. "Do you think your little weapons are any match for me, boy?  Even now, when you are so clearly defeated, you believe that you'll be  able to fight me with a simple sword? A shield? Your wise ones have been  telling you many false legends and stories if you believe you'll be  successful!" Again he laughed.

Yes, my human self-encouraged me silently. Keep talking, you  insufferable wind bag. Tell me how superior you are. Only give me time  to get to the satchel. My body cried out in agony with every movement,  the wound across my torso opening further every time I stretched closer  to my prize. I forced myself to focus only on the task at hand and  ignore the pain as best I could.         

     



 

"Do you think they'll weep once they learn what has happened? Once I've  destroyed you, and your brother? Once it becomes clear that I've used  your mate for my own pleasure before snuffing her out, along with the  demon child she carries within her? Will your mother survive the grief?  Will the great Rhiannon bear up, or will she throw herself from the  highest tower once it becomes clear that everything she loves is dead?"

I too weak to be stirred by the vile words coming from the wizard's  mouth. And it no longer mattered, at any rate, for I had reached my  goal. The pile of weapons was before me, and I curled my body  protectively around them. Arthur merely sneered; I knew that Gaeth must  have placed a charm of some sort on the satchel if my foe was unaware of  the treasure that rested within it.

I pulled the sword from the ground with ease; in my claws it resembled a  splinter much more than a deadly weapon. Arthur jeered again, but I  paid him no mind. I knew that he must have been wounded far more deeply  than he let on if he had not yet made a move to dispatch me. His jeers  were thin, his voice weaker and weaker.

I tossed the shield aside and revealed the plain, unassuming looking  satchel. Had I not known what lie within I would not have given it a  second thought; this was likely Gaeth's plan exactly.

"What do you have there?" Arthur asked. Of course I could not answer,  not having the ability to speak. Instead I called upon my instincts once  again, and they told me exactly what to do.

I raised the sword, so small now compared to my massive body, and poised  it over the satchel. To my eyes it was almost as though the Heart  glowed from within the rough sack; I knew where the stone was positioned  and was ready to land a blow.

But first I raised my eyes to Arthur's. I wanted to see his face when he  realized what Gaeth had planned and knew that the source of his power  was about to be destroyed.

And in that last second, he did know. I saw his eyes register the  terrible truth. Wordlessly, he lunged toward me. I expected him to shoot  bolts of lightning as he had before, but in his panic he must have  forgotten and merely sought to stop me using physical force.

He was too late, however. With one thought of my mate, my father, and my  child I plunged the sword into where I knew the stone sat within the  burlap satchel. Even through the haze of my pain I felt a surge of  satisfaction as the blade hit home and pierced the Heart.

Arthur froze, then cried out as if in agonizing pain. His hands flew to  his own heart, his fingers digging into his chest. He jerked once,  twice. The swirling red clouds surged and tumbled as if on fire. The  ground shook as it never had before, cracks forming here and there,  great chunks of earth and rock breaking free and falling the many  hundreds of meters to the rocks below. Lightning flashed all around us. I  never let go of the sword, holding it fast in place where it had split  the Heart.

The wizard's head was thrown back in a perverse parody of ecstasy, and  his face was twisted in a horrible grimace, his mouth open in a silent  scream. His entire body twitched and trembled as though a current flowed  through it. I had once witnessed a man being struck by lightning, and  his body had jumped and twitched in much the same way.

Then, within the blink of an eye, everything stopped. The red clouds  parted and dispersed, leaving an uncharacteristically blue sky behind.  The wind died down, the shaking of the earth ceased and the ground  beneath me went still. After such an ear-splitting cacophony of sound  the silence was eerie.

And still Arthur stood as if rooted to the ground. His eyes stared,  unfocused, as though he no longer saw me or anything before him. Then,  the ground which had cracked around him gave way. The dark wizard  vanished from sight.

And somehow, in that very same moment, I felt Anabelle's eyes open.





THE FINAL CHAPTER





Arthur was gone; at least, he appeared to be. I didn't care crawl  another bit closer to what was now the edge of the crag, for fear that  even more ground would give way and send me tumbling. I didn't trust my  reflexes at the moment, unsure whether I'd be able to unfurl my wings  and take flight in time enough to avoid meeting the same fate my father  had.

I dared to pull aside the flap, which closed the satchel, to prove to  myself that the Heart had been destroyed. Sure enough, it was split into  many pieces, which crumbled around the point of the sword that Syeira  and Gaeth had enchanted. Now that its power had been destroyed, the  stone no longer glowed as it once had. It was not even red, but instead a  dull gray.

I decided to search for shelter. There was no way I could make the  flight back to the castle. I was unsure as to whether I'd even be able  to make it off the cliff on which I currently lay.         

     



 

But I knew that I had to try; I couldn't stay here. While the sky was  blue as I'd ever seen it, the weather in Ireland was so notoriously  fickle that there was no guarantee it wouldn't soon rain. After taking a  few deep breaths, I pushed myself up until I was leaning on my unbroken  rear leg and my right front leg; the left was still pressed against the  horrible wound in my abdomen.