The Dragon's Distrust (4 page)

He stretched his arms and took a deep
breath. Perhaps the Mountain Galdyr would have an answer for him.
They knew magic intimately. If Tania was cursed, they would know.
And they might even be able to deduce who Tania’s mother was. He
had not forgotten that there may have been a dragon who loved
Polas. The thought shook him to his core. Who could love that
swine?

A snapping twig caught his attention.
He instantly stood up and stared at the sound. A bedraggled man
stumbled through. He reeked of the dungeon.

“Stay your feet,” Stephan
commanded.

The man stopped in his tracks. He wore
a soiled cream-colored shirt that was buttoned in only one place.
His bruised chest peeked through the slit. His torn brown pants had
several moth holes and looked as if they had been trampled by wild
animals. The dark brown hair that was littered with leaves and
twigs had been pulled back into a knot at the base of his head. His
right eye bulged slightly. A torturer had tried to remove it from
the socket.

Stephan finally stopped eyeing the man
and wondered if he was an escapee like the rest of the prisoners
here.

“Where is Tania?” The man asked. His
voice was raspy and deep like an animal that had just learned to
speak the common tongue.

“Who is asking?” Stephan replied taking
a cautious step forward. How did this man know Tania? What sort of
riff-raff was she accustomed to speaking with?

“I am Phillip. She rescued me from the
dungeon along with my kin.”

That set Stephan’s mind at ease. Of
course the Princess Tania would not know him anywhere else. She was
a member of the court and this man was…Stephan quickly glanced
around the clearing searching for others of his kin.

“Your kin?” Stephan asked slowly. He
knew what this man was. He was not a man.

“Yes,” Phillip wiped his crooked nose
that had been broken at least seven times, “The King hates more
things than just dragons.”

“Explain yourself, wolf.” Stephan
continued to glance around the forest. Where there was one wolf,
there were always several more hiding in the shadows. They were
like cockroaches—one represented a hundred.

Phillip gestured to the felled log,
“May I sit?”

Stephan nodded but crossed his arms. He
was not accustomed to speaking with feral creatures nor did he wish
to make a habit of it.

Phillip sat down slowly and winced with
each movement.

“Are you the spokesman for your kin?”
Stephan asked.

“You could say that,” Phillip arranged
himself on the log for several moments until he was comfortable
enough to speak, “They refer to me as the Alpha.”

“And I am known as the Master. Forgive
me if I do not call you by your title, Phillip.”

“Then grant me the same
boon.”

Stephan nodded. He did not trust
wolves. They were nothing more than animals.

“I am here to ask for my fellows
back.”

“Your fellows?” Stephan gestured to the
comatose prisoners, “These poor souls?”

“Yes, they are like me. They are
werewolves. King Polas had his soldiers round us up. He wanted us
to help fight in his war, to kill the remaining
dragons.”

Stephan shifted uncomfortably. He was a
powerful dragon, but he was alone and there was an entire pack
stalking in the dark woods. He would be outnumbered if this
conversation turned to blows. With night quickly coming on, he
would not be able to shift either. He was at a
disadvantage.

“But,” Phillip continued, “We refused.
We cannot control our beasts when the full moon calls us. We could
injure innocents—children, women…We live in the forest for a
reason. We cannot control ourselves. It is best to stay far away
from civilization. I’m sure you understand.”

“Not really. I keep all my faculties
when I shift,” he paused and stared at Phillip who looked down at
the ground dejectedly, “But sometimes the animal can be difficult
to control in certain situations.”

The remark drew a soft smile on
Phillip’s face, “Then you understand why we had to say
no.”

“I do. Although, I would never agree to
any terms Polas would give.”

“Agreed. That man is a menace. He hunts
anything that is different.”

“He especially hunts
dragons.”

“Yes, he does. He even asked the elves
for their help. I don’t know what they decided. Filthy
half-breeds…”

No one in the realm was fond of the
Elves. The dragons were indifferent. Dragons had kept to themselves
to avoid any situation that might lead them to Polas. Stephan
merely shrugged, “Is that why you were imprisoned? Because you
would not aid Polas?”

He nodded, “Yes. He knew who was a
werewolf because of the blasted full moon. A few of my kin worked
in the Keep. Lydia over there was Tania’s girl at one point. They
did unspeakable things to her.”

“Who?”

“The guards. Polas was never involved,
of course, keeping his hands clean while he delighted in my kin’s
misery. Poor Lydia,” Phillip glanced over at the girl who was
barely skin and bones, “she was tortured the worst. Her
screams…dear Avalar…her screams. I can still hear them,” he looked
back toward Patryck, “Let me take care of my kin like I should have
done. I am eternally grateful for your aid.”

Stephan took a deep breath, “How will
you help them?”

“Once they shift, they will become
better. We can heal in wolf form just as you can in
yours.”

Stephan kept quiet. Dragons could heal
in man form, as well. But it was best not to allow secrets to go
running about. In the wrong hands, secrets were dangerous. Besides,
only a few dragons could heal in man form. Stephan was one of
them.

Stephan stroked his chin, “Yes, they
need to be with you and the rest of your pack. You say Lydia was
Princess Tania’s girl?”

Phillip nodded.

Stephan’s mind was thinking quickly.
Perhaps Lydia knew more of Tania and of Tania’s mother. She could
be a valuable asset, “How long had Lydia been a girl of
Tania’s?”

Phillip shrugged, “Lydia worked in the
castle all her life, before Tania was born. What of it?”

“Do you know if Tania and Lydia were
close?”

“Lydia did mention Tania on several
occasions, so probably.”

“You may be aware that Tania is now in
the company of dragons. She lives with us. I think she may be
getting lonely for female friendship. I would like to keep Lydia so
that Tania can have a girlfriend once again.”

Phillip shook his head, “I’m afraid
that’s out of the question. I need all members of my
pack.”

Stephan glanced at the sun that barely
peeked over the western rise. He was not impulsive, but he
desperately needed answers and Lydia may provide him with some. He
was about to shift and take off with Lydia in tow but a sudden
thought made him pause, “You despise Polas as much as we
do?”

“We hate the rotten bastard,” he
snarled.

“How would you feel about an alliance
with dragons?”

Phillip cocked his head, “Polas has all
but destroyed you.”

“True, but the ones remaining will keep
remaining. We mean to end Polas’ reign once and for all. It will
benefit you to side with us. We will go to war—a war of such
magnitude that it will be spoken of and written down for ages to
come. But we need allies. We are making a stand, Phillip, and I ask
you to stand with us.”

Phillip looked thoughtful, “Polas needs
to die. I agree with you in that. But you are asking a great deal
of my kin.”

“Do not be hasty in your answer. I give
you a week’s time. Think on it. Your people will heal physically,
but they will have scars emotionally. And those scars will seek
revenge. The dragons can help you obtain it.”

Phillip stood up and extended his hand,
“I will think on it. That is all I can do.”

Stephan returned the hand shake, “We
will be a free people once his reign has ended.”

“But many will perish.”

“Yes, and many more will live in
peace.”

Phillip sighed and gestured into the
forest. Several mangy looking men and women slithered from behind
bushes and leapt down from the treetops. Stephan hadn’t even
realized they were perched above him. He was slightly startled but
at the same time excited. The wolves would make a valuable
ally.

The abused wolves were carried off one
by one. Stephan was annoyed to watch Lydia go because he yearned
for answers. But if the wolves became allies with the dragons, then
he would be able to question Lydia for all she was worth. The
serving girl would have answers that only the King would
know.

Gossip inside the Keep was a plague,
and no secret was ever kept.

Chapter 5

Tania swallowed so loudly
she nearly choked on her guilt as Aristo peered deeply into her
eyes. He could smell Patryck. She knew he could. And she would have
to be honest. She had wanted to ignore her mistake…mistake? She
couldn’t decide whether or not having an affair with Patryck
had
been a mistake. In
fact, she wanted to kiss him again.

She was very confused and her heart was
torn.

Patryck flapped his wings but stopped
mid-air. His wings wobbled for the slightest of moments before they
completely stilled. They were no longer gliding or flying. They
took a nose-dive at break-neck speeds, hurtling toward the earth.
Patryck could obviously no longer fly. He had spent his energy and
he needed to land. Unfortunately, he did not have the willpower to
land properly. It would be rough.

Tania wrapped her arms around Aristo’s
neck in a death grip and squeezed her eyes shut. Her heart hammered
away at her chest and her muscles went rigid. Wind pelted her like
rushing water. Aristo’s biceps bulged as they held her tight. He
kept repeating, “It will be alright, Tania”. But she didn’t think
it would. Her body jiggled under the pressure of the sky as she and
her dragons sped toward the earth.

“Hold tight!” Aristo commanded, as if
she needed to be told.

Leaves and branches smacked her,
ripping her skin. She hissed in pain but continued squeezing
Aristo. She would not let go.

A loud thud followed by an even loader
whine sent Aristo and Tania flying into green, thorny bushes. Tania
screamed in agony as her head smashed hard into a boulder. Her
vision was blurry for a few moments before she regained her
bearings. Her body was one big hurt. Her muscles ached from
squeezing so hard, her skin was ragged, and now her chest hurt to
breathe. She must have also slammed her sternum into a thick branch
of the bushes.

She held her chest and tried her
hardest to breathe. Small, short breaths came and after a time, she
could breathe steadily. She fumbled through the bush, allowing the
thorns to tear at her sides and feet before she reached something
of a clearing. Patryck was still in water dragon form but he wasn’t
moving. Liquid seemed to leak from everywhere. Tania ran toward him
and placed the side of her face close to his mouth. He was still
breathing. She kissed his wet cheek, thankful he was
alive.

The crash had left trees torn in half,
smaller bushes were uprooted, and a large ditch where Patryck had
skidded to a stop looked like a scar in the ground. Several leaves
floated in the air, dislodged from the branches. The leaves were so
many it looked like green rain. Tania swatted the dust out of her
eyes and searched for Aristo.

No sooner than her gaze met the bush
she had landed on, Aristo marched out cursing. He pulled several
thorns from his forearms, chest, and more delicate areas. He winced
while he tugged a particularly large thorn from his
manhood.

He was upset—this was some rescue. He
had been abused and mocked by the humans and now he had been in a
dragon crash. But his anger quickly faded when he saw Tania holding
the unconscious Patryck’s head.

Aristo immediately rushed to her side,
“Are you alright?”

Tania nodded, “I could be better.
Patryck is really hurt.”

Aristo agreed, “How long had he been
flying?”

“All day. When I heard you calling, I
had to find you. Patryck was supposed to take me back to the Den,
but I wanted to see you so badly that I forced him to get
you.”

Not only did she feel guilty cheating
on Aristo, but now Patryck had been physically hurt because she
wanted to rescue Aristo. She was becoming more and more confused by
the minute. She had wanted to free Aristo but she didn’t want to
hurt Patryck at the same time. She had been hurting him enough
lately.

Tania stroked Patryck’s jaw and he
stirred. She smiled somewhat. At least he was moving.

“He will heal faster in dragon form,”
Aristo stated, “Had he morphed into a man, he might not have
survived the landing.”

Tania continued petting Patryck, hoping
just her touch alone would help. After all, she had merely held
Emeril’s hand and he was much better for it. Perhaps the same could
be said with Patryck. It was worth a try.