Garden of Destiny (Dark Gardens Book 4) Read online

  “Charon and Styx, stay back,” she warned. “I don’t want to accidentally hit you while you’re leaping in midair.” Besides, there was shattered glass all around the front wall that might cut their paws.

  Where was that yellow dragon?

  She’d barely gotten the thought out before it reappeared, smashing the stones around the damaged windows with its whip-like tail. Her finger twitched as crumbling stones pelted the footboard causing her to accidentally shoot her arrow. It sailed off wide of its mark and disappeared into the dank air.

  “Blast and bother.” With shaking hands, she attempted to load another arrow onto the crossbow, but a deep and ominous roar filled the air and sent piercing waves of pain through her eardrums. The arrow fell as she dropped it to cover her ears. She’d never heard the full-throated, angry roar of a dragon before and never expected the resonant call to be so powerful as to affect all of her senses.

  Unable to load the next arrow, she curled behind the propped-up shield as though it could hide her from this ancient monster. In the next moment, she felt a burst of heat and the bed quickly became engulfed in fire, all but the little square upon which she was curled. Incredibly, the flames whipped around the shield and struck everywhere on the bed but where she hid.

  Thank goodness.

  She dared not inhale, for the heat would certainly singe her lungs. She held her breath as long as possible, determined to hold it until she passed out, if necessary. But her head quickly began to spin and she heard another ear-splitting roar. Another dragon? The call sounded different from the first. Suddenly, the shadow of the yellow dragon that had cast a pall over this ruined tower chamber was no longer there.

  The bed was still in flames so she quickly rolled off it and patted herself down to inspect her gown and hair. She gave silent thanks that there were no embers caught in them. But the beautiful dragon bed had been reduced to firewood and would soon be nothing but ashes.

  The crossbow was already a pile of ashes.

  She darted around the dying-out flames to Lord Bloodaxe’s chest and withdrew a simple bow and a quiver full of arrows. She hoisted the quiver over her shoulder. The yew bow was not as effective as the deadly crossbow, but it was a weapon she could hold in her grasp and easily raise to take careful aim.

  Young ladies were trained in the sport of archery.

  She was an expert marksman.

  But where could she strike a dragon with her arrow to cause the most damage? Unlike the crossbow arrows, these did not have the ability to penetrate a dragon’s protective scales. The slender shaft would simply bounce off the dragon’s thick body.

  More earsplitting roars filled the air.

  Mother in heaven.

  How many dragons were coming after her?

  She covered her ears yet again, her mind racing all the while. She needed to stuff them with something to mute the sounds. She dumped the bread and apple out of the kerchief, shook out the crumbs, and stuck one end of the kerchief into each ear.

  No doubt she looked ridiculous, but this was necessary for her survival. She grabbed the bow and placed an arrow on it. Aim for the dragon’s eye.

  Yes, that was her best chance.

  But when she dared to peek out of what remained of the window, she saw three dragons flying overhead. “Merciful heaven.”

  She couldn’t fight them all.

  No, she didn’t have to fight them at all, she quickly realized. The black dragon with the blue underbelly had to be Lord Bloodaxe. She recognized the yellow dragon that had attacked her and quietly cheered as Lord Bloodaxe grabbed its flailing tail in his dragon teeth and flung its big yellow body with enough force to toss the beast into the distant lake.

  The third dragon was an enormous, all black dragon with fiery red eyes and a mean disposition. The two black dragons now turned to face each other, their wings magnificently outstretched in an aggressive display as they prepared to fly toward each other in the first engagement of what had to be a deadly battle.

  The yellow dragon was forgotten as each turned its feral fury on the other.

  She was forgotten as well, for they probably believed her to be dead.

  Charon and Styx drew close to her, their gazes also fixed on the black dragons soaring overhead.

  Georgiana stared in fascination as they began to circle each other, the nostrils on their long snouts flared and the spikes that ran along their spines taut as sword points. To her confusion, the dragons exchanged no more than a few roars before the enormous black dragon suddenly flew off with a flap of its massive wings. The smaller black dragon made a graceful turn and was about to chase after his larger challenger when it suddenly stopped and turned back to circle the bedchamber tower that was now mostly in ruins.

  Turbulent blue eyes met the worried green of Georgiana’s gaze. She knew this black dragon was Lord Bloodaxe and quickly removed the kerchief stuffed in her ears so that he did not think her addled. She lowered her bow and stood in front of the broken window so that she was now fully exposed to his view. The dragon roared softly and she noticed a surge of relief in his eyes. “I’m safe,” she mouthed, doubting he could see the movement of her lips.

  With a powerful thrust of his long, black wings, he flew upward into the clouds.

  She peered out of the empty space that had once been a window, careful to avoid the shards of glass that stuck to the sill and frame. More glass was scattered across the floor. The scent of smoke permeated the air. Had the windows not been broken, she would have suffocated from the smoke. But the opening served as a chimney flue to draw the worst of the smoke out of the chamber.

  She tried to find him among the swirling gray clouds. “Where are you, Lord Bloodaxe?” she muttered, but there was no sign of a black dragon stealthily threading its way in and out of the clouds. Her gaze was still fixed on the thunderous sky when Charon and Styx suddenly left her side and raced to the door.

  They weren’t growling, but panting excitedly.

  She was about to throw the bolt and fling the door open when she remembered her lesson with the nymphs. The dogs hadn’t growled when they’d come to the door either. In the next moment, a mighty fist pounded against the thick wood. “Georgiana,” was all Lord Bloodaxe needed to shout.

  She cried in relief and opened the door.

  He stood there looking magnificent, no matter that he was battle-worn and bloodied. “You’re alive,” he said, the deep rumble of his voice ragged and raw. He stood on the threshold and studied her. His gaze was intense, blazing a trail up and down her body. “By the Stone of Draloch, how is it possible? I saw Necros shoot his dragon fire straight at you.”

  “Is that what you call the hideous yellow beast?”

  “Aye. He’s a Dragon Lord, but was once a goblin. He’s a brainless toady. I will kill him. There is nowhere in the Underworld he can hide from me.” He swept her into his arms and kissed her with a depth of feeling that stole her breath away. He kissed her long and hard, and she returned his kiss with equal ardor. He chased the cold from her bones. He touched her heart as no other man ever could. “How did you survive, Georgie? What miracle occurred to spare you from his flames?”

  She didn’t know. “It wasn’t so much a miracle as good fortune. I went to your chest and gathered some of your weapons,” she said in a rush, now beginning to feel quite proud of her actions and pleased that he regarded her with obvious admiration. “I noticed your shield on the wall and decided to wedge it between the bed’s footboard and the mattress. It looked sturdy enough to protect me from falling stones or from a dragon’s tail smashing against the bed. But your crossbow is destroyed. I’m so sorry.”

  “Do you think I care? It is easily replaced. You’re not.” He lowered his mouth to hers once again and claimed her lips with a possessive hunger.

  She trembled against his hard body, not from fear but from the passion he evoked in her. Her heart was racing and her senses were atilt. His tower chamber was in shambles. Smoke from the yellow dragon’s flames st
ill lingered in the air as did the odor of that foul beast. Ugh! What an unholy stench!

  To counter it, she breathed in Lord Bloodaxe’s honey scent as she eyed him with worry. “How soon before more dragons attack?”

  “They won’t.” His smile made her heart flutter. “You’ve scared them off.”

  She shook her head and laughed softly. “I doubt it is me that has put them on the run.”

  “Indeed, it is.” He brushed aside a few stray curls and kissed her on the forehead. “I warned them about you, but they wouldn’t listen.”

  “Oh, am I that fearsome a warrior?” Her lips tilted upward in a grin, for she was feeling proud of herself again.

  He lifted her into his arms and kissed her soundly again. “You even have me quaking, and I’m a bloody Dragon Lord.”

  She laughed heartily, for his teasing manner calmed her. Nothing mattered now that she was in his arms. All she’d thought about while the dragons had hovered overhead was of his safe return. Now that she knew he was unharmed, she wanted nothing more than to hold onto him with all her might. “Your dragon shield protected me. Necros’ fire swirled all around me, but couldn’t penetrate the shield.”

  She ran her hands up and down his arms and gasped when she felt a sticky warmth on his sleeve. “You’re bleeding.”

  He shook his head. “No, just a scratch.”

  “Let me see.” Her arms still pained her from the cuts and scratches she’d received when attacked by his nymphs. He’d taken on dragons and demon armies. “Scratches don’t bleed this profusely.”

  “’Tis naught, merely a small spot on my sleeve and already caking dry. Hardly worth the mention.” He ignored her concern and stepped into the center of his bedchamber to inspect the damage. “By the Stone of Draloch.” He groaned in frustration. “Necros was angry.”

  She followed his gaze and grimaced. “I tried to get off a shot with your crossbow, but he startled me and the shot went wide. I did a miserable job of defense.”

  “My quarters will be repaired quickly. But we’ll have to leave the fortress while my workers are rebuilding this tower. In truth, it may be for the best. Brihann brought you here and would know where to find you if we stayed.” He stepped over the rubble to stand beside what had once been a beautifully framed window but was now a gaping hole. “There are many places to hide you within my realm. It is best you retreat to one of those. You’ll have to slip out quietly. His spies are everywhere around my fortress, watching your every movement. Your escape will have to be well planned.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “Am I to be left on my own? Or will you be with me?”

  He returned to her side, closing the small distance between them. “What do you think?”

  She sighed. “I no longer know what to think.”

  “Yes, you do.” The air felt charged between them, and his touch, when he gently cupped her cheek, felt like the strike of a lightning bolt.

  Her heartbeats felt like hammer strikes against her chest. “I shouldn’t trust you, but I do. I shouldn’t like you, but…”

  He did not smile as he spoke her thoughts. “But you do, even though I am a demon. You don’t know if your ordeal has confused your mind, for how can you possibly have any affection for a shape-shifting monster?”

  She wanted to tell him that he was no monster, but it wasn’t so. He was a dangerous Dragon Lord and ruled over a demonic realm. She merely nodded in agreement.

  “I can’t explain it either. But it doesn’t matter right now. You’ve survived Necros’ attack and word of it will quickly spread throughout the Underworld.”

  “How is it significant?”

  “You’re a mortal girl who survived dragon fire. The only other young woman who managed that is the Fae queen, Melody. She was a simple vicar’s daughter who fulfilled the ancient prophecy etched into the Stone of Draloch and gave the Fae their great victory over the demons of the Underworld.”

  Georgiana tipped her head in confusion. “How did she manage it?”

  “It’s a long story and one I shall tell you once I have you safely hidden away. Georgiana, ever since the demons’ loss, Brihann has been ranting and raging about conquering the realm of mortals. The Fae and demons battled for thousands of years and all attention was given to the words of the Fae prophecy, but there was more written on the stone concerning the fate of mankind.” He tipped her chin up to meet his gaze as he began to recite the two sentences from memory.

  Two black dragons shall reign supreme.

  Two black dragons shall unite the worlds of demon and man.

  “You and your High King Brihann?” She pursed her lips. “Or are there more black dragons that exist?”

  He turned away and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “There is another.”

  She waited for him to continue, but he said nothing more. “Must I ask you questions about this third dragon? I know how intensely you dislike questions.”

  He chuckled softly and returned his gaze to meet hers. “I will tell you about him another time. My concern right now is to keep you out of Brihann’s grasp. There is no doubt that he purposely engaged me and my men in a skirmish to keep us occupied while Necros came after you. I don’t know that he gave Necros the order to kill you. You’re more useful to Brihann alive, but who knows what runs through his deranged mind? He may want you dead.”

  “If that is so, then why did Brihann not do it when he first abducted me?”

  Lord Bloodaxe ran a hand once more through his dark hair. “I think he gave you to me believing I’d take you as one of my concubines. You were meant to be a gift to me to repair hostilities that have existed between us for quite some time now. He meant it as a gesture to unite the two black dragons in preparation for war against our mortal foe.”

  His mouth pursed in a thin, tense line as he gave the matter more thought. “It wasn’t until he gave serious consideration to the words of the prophecy that he understood you could be the means to his undoing. He’s just realized his mistake in bringing you to me. That’s why he must now hunt you down and make certain you are destroyed before you can destroy him.”

  She shook her head, straining to understand the politics within this realm, but found it even more indecipherable than those of England. “But he flew off when you confronted him. If he’s so desperate, why didn’t he stay and fight you?”

  “Because he and I may be the two dragons referred to in the prophecy. He isn’t certain yet and for that reason, he won’t risk killing me.”

  “That may explain why he spared you. I still don’t understand what makes me so important to him.”

  He took a long moment to respond, frowning as though the reason was not to his liking. “Because you are important to me,” he said finally and with such reluctance, it seemed as though each word had to be dragged forcibly from his lips.

  “How can I be? You hardly know me.” Even as she spoke in protest, she knew that she was wrong. They did know each other and it mattered not that she had no knowledge of where or how or when. He knew.

  Why wouldn’t he tell her?

  A commotion at the door ended all chance for further conversation. “Lord Bloodaxe,” said one of the demons who’d come running up the stairs with broadswords in their hands, “what has happened here?”

  Surprisingly, these demons resembled men and all wore hauberks similar to that of Lord Bloodaxe, except for the man who spoke. His garments were finer, and by the set of keys dangling from his belt, she assumed he served as steward of this fortress.

  Charon and Styx began to bark at the men who stood behind the steward with their weapons still drawn.

  Lord Bloodaxe raised his hand and uttered a single word. “Quiet.”

  His dogs immediately obeyed.

  He turned to the men who had yet to cross his threshold and would not do so unless permitted, and waved them in. “You may as well meet the cause of the havoc. This is Lady Georgiana Wethersby, daughter of the Duke of Penrith.”

  “T
he Duke of Penrith,” his steward repeated in a murmur of surprise. He appeared to be a man of middle age with thin, gray hair, and resembled a clerk or professor, for he was not very tall, not at all muscled, and wore spectacles. The other men looked more like fighters and carried themselves as such, although none were as tall or broad in the shoulders as Lord Bloodaxe. “His estate, Wethersby Hall, is in the Lake District, is it not?”

  Lord Bloodaxe nodded. “It is. Quite astute of you, Thomas. She is an innocent brought against her will into our lands. So now you understand why she is important to us all.”

  As one, the men fell on one knee and bowed before her. “We shall protect her at all costs,” they pledged, their heads lowered in reverential respect.

  To Georgiana’s consternation, they remained kneeling and with their heads bowed as though awaiting a magical word or two from her. She gazed at Lord Bloodaxe in confusion.

  “Do you not understand yet? It seems you are the one chosen by the Stone of Draloch to be our guiding light. You hold our destiny in your hands.”

  She refused to believe it. “Rise, gentlemen. I am no deity and do not presume to have any control over your lives.” Whatever the life of a demon might be.

  Lord Bloodaxe regarded her with a wickedly appealing arch of his eyebrow. “Even I misjudged your purpose in being brought here. Your powers may prove stronger even than Queen Melody’s.”

  What nonsense is this? He’d compared her to the Fae queen, the mortal female that all demons feared. She studied his face for the hint of a twitch in his lips or a glint of amusement in his dragon eyes, but he did not appear to be jesting.

  “Lady Georgiana, allow me to introduce you to the captains in command of my armies. Sir Artemis,” Lord Bloodaxe said, nodding toward the burliest of the three demons who also appeared to be the oldest, for his hair was thick and bristly and almost completely gray. But she couldn’t be sure of his age, for these captains had the look of men and yet they could be any form of creature. No man she had ever met had eyes as black as theirs.