Soldier Page 115

“Riley!” I howled, and the rogue dragon dropped to the other side of Garret, snarling a curse. Tristan appeared somewhere behind me, looming over my shoulders, but I couldn’t take my eyes from the soldier bleeding out in my lap.

“Garret.” I pressed a palm to his face, and those glassy, metallic eyes flickered to me. “Hang in there,” I whispered, as Riley snarled something at the other soldiers, something about ambulances and first-aid kits. I didn’t really hear him. “You’re going to be okay,” I choked out, feeling my eyes start to burn. Riley grabbed something from Tristan and held it to Garret’s side, trying to stop the bleeding. But the soldier’s gaze was only for me. “You’re going to be fine,” I said again, gripping his hand. “Just stay with me, all right?”

Garret gave me that gentle smile...and his eyes started to flicker shut. “No,” I growled, squeezing his hand, willing him to stay. “Garret, no. Don’t do this. You can’t die on me now.” My voice broke, and I blinked hard to clear my vision, not caring about the tears streaming down my face and that dragons weren’t supposed to be able to cry.

Garret’s hand tightened on mine. His eyes opened, steady and clear, gazing up at me, though it was clear he was fighting to keep them open. I swallowed the sob and lowered my head, brushing my lips across his.

“I love you,” I whispered, knowing it was too late.

Garret smiled. Then his eyes shut completely, his head fell to the side and he went limp in my arms. I knelt in the cold salt, holding the body of the human I loved, as the sun climbed slowly overhead and painted everything to the horizon in blood.

EPILOGUE

DANTE

I wondered if it was possible to die from nerves.

I had nothing to be anxious about, I told myself for about the hundredth time. The mission had been a rousing success. The vessels had performed flawlessly; in a single night, they had swept through a town, eliminated every target and returned to the rendezvous point exactly as planned. None of the humans living in that place had survived or escaped. The vessels had hit hard and fast, and were able to destroy all targets without alerting a single outside source. A few had sustained minor injuries, and one had been wounded so severely that it had to be put down, but all in all, everything had gone according to plan. Talon couldn’t be more pleased. And I was the junior executive who had made it all happen.

I should be ecstatic.

“Mr. Hill? The Elder Wyrm will see you now.”

I rose, managing to smile and nod at the secretary as I walked toward the pair of colossal wooden doors at the end of the hall. Nothing adorned the wood, no symbols or emblems, though the flat glare of a security camera caught my attention as I approached the huge frame. I had already passed the biggest, scariest security guard I’d ever seen in my life—a Gila who was possibly half a millennium old, judging by the way my instincts shrank back in terror—before coming into the office. He’d scrutinized my badge long enough to memorize every number on it, then reluctantly let me through. Even now, I thought I could feel his cold stare on my back as I walked steadily toward the looming entrance at the end of the corridor.

My hand shook as I reached out and touched the gold door handles, and I took a moment to catch my breath. The Elder Wyrm has called for you, Dante. The leader of Talon, the oldest, most powerful dragon in the world is waiting right behind these doors. Think of what that means.

I couldn’t think of the implications for too long. One, it was terrifying; only a handful of dragons ever saw the Elder Wyrm face-to-face. And two, I was expected. It would not do to be late.

With a deep breath, I turned the handle, pushed back the door and stepped into the office of the Elder Wyrm.

Surprisingly, though it was huge and modern with one entire wall made up of windows that showed off the brilliant blue sky, the office was simple and functional without being overly extravagant. The walls were bare and stark, no pictures, photographs, inspirational quotes or anything. The theme of the room was black, gray and white; the only spot of color a red coffee mug on the corner of the enormous black desk. A black leather chair sat behind that desk with its back to me, the leather so glossy, I could see my distorted reflection in the seat.

Heart pounding, I walked across the room, my shoes making no sound on the gray carpet, until I stood at the edge of the desk, gazing at the back of the huge chair. I thought I could just make out a few silvery strands of hair drifting over the top, when the leather seat abruptly swung around to face me, revealing what was behind it.

My mouth went dry, and I was sure I turned as pale as a sheet, as the massive aura of power hit me like a tidal wave, nearly knocking me down. Draconic instincts shrieked in utter primal terror, telling me to run, that the woman sitting calmly behind the desk could squash me like an insect and not even realize it.

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