Zanaikeyros - Son of Dragons (Pantheon of Dragons #1)(95)
If she lived a thousand years, she would love this male until her dying breath. Only now did she truly understand what this mating had cost him—from the very first moment, when he had claimed her in that garage.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a sudden glimpse of a brilliant sparkling light, a prism of effervescence gleaming from the fourth finger of her left hand. And like the glow of the moon on a dark, cloudy night, the light stood out on her finger, contrasted against the golden hues of Zane’s flawless skin. She studied her hand absently, and then her eyes zeroed in on the ornament.
Great dragon lords, there was a dazzling, perfectly cut sapphire in the center of an antique ring encircling her wedding finger. The disk was fashioned in the shape of a dragon, and flowing, like planets around the sun—orbiting the flawless sapphire—were six immaculate gemstones: a diamond, an emerald, an amethyst, an onyx, a citrine, and a magnificent topaz.
“Zanaikeyros,” she whispered lovingly, rubbing her thumbs along his skin. “Are you okay? Say something, dragyri; tell me you’re no longer in pain.”
He heaved a rugged sigh, and then he fixed those glorious sapphire-gold eyes on hers and smiled like an innocent child. And by all the gods, it was the most glorious sight she had ever seen. Her ring paled by comparison.
He was too exhausted to speak, so she crawled into his arms and held him like she would never let him go—because she wouldn’t.
“I love you, Zane,” she breathed into his ear. “I love you so very much—and I’m sorry I ever doubted you…” Her voice trailed off, and she giggled, actually laughed with merriment.
He tightened his arm around her back, nuzzled her neck with his nose, and pressed a warm, tender kiss into the hollow of her throat. “You were brave, dragyra. Brave and beautiful. And I love you, too. I will love you forever.” His gorgeous mouth quirked up into a smile, and he stared at her glistening ring.
“Welcome to The Pantheon of Dragons.”
Epilogue Axeviathon Saphyrius, better known as Axe, strolled into the lobby of the King’s Castle Credit Union around ten o’clock, Monday morning. A well-dressed brunette, who looked equal parts eager and insecure, greeted him at the front entrance with a smile and a nod.
“Good morning. How can we help you today?”
Axe spared her a sidelong glance and kept right on walking.
One, he didn’t have the time, nor the desire, to deal with extraneous humans today; and two, he knew exactly where he was going: through the lobby, past the tellers, and down the long, narrow hall on the right—straight to the opulent office of the bank’s newest manager, Warren Simmons.
Warren was a card-carrying member of the Cult of Hades, a faction of clueless humans who dabbled in the occult—or so they thought. In reality, they served a dangerous, supernatural god, and they didn’t even know it.
Drakkar Hades.
King of the underworld and ruler of demons and shades.
Father of the Pagan Horde.
The ancient pagan had messed with the Temple of Seven. He had ticked off the dragon lords by trying to destroy an original dragyri son, Zane Saphyrius—Axe’s lair-mate. And in doing so, the dark king had provoked the Seven’s wrath. Not only had Drak sent Salem Thorne, a despicable, caustic demon, to try to slay Zane’s new mate, but he had manipulated the female’s best friend, Macy, by using her surgeon to take advantage of her vulnerable heart. In short, he had planned to use the women’s friendship to one day get to Zane, and the doctor had just been a pawn: an accessible, pliant, easy-to-manipulate tool, due to a weakness in his character…
And a fissure in his soul.
Pagans were bottom-feeders at best.
No better than carp or vultures.
They fed on the souls—and the sins—of humans.
If the pagan was a shadow-walker (or a “shade”), he simply fed on the human’s essence; he reanimated his immortal, skeletal carcass by devouring the person’s spirit. But if he was a demon—and especially if he was ancient—then he fed on the human’s sins: He encouraged them, milked them, caught them in the act, and grew stronger by association…
And proxy.
Salem had taken advantage of the surgeon’s pride, his never-ending ambition to rise in the eyes of others, no matter the stakes or the costs, and Lord Drakkar Hades had hoped to use the not-so-fine doctor sometime in the future, in a manner as old as time. As Zane grew closer to his new dragyra, as her burgeoning role in The Pantheon was cemented, Drakkar had hoped to draw on her enduring friendship with Macy to sneak a wolf in sheep’s clothing into Dragons Domain. Whether on Christmas, Valentine’s Day, or some other uniquely human holiday, the pagan king was gambling on the certainty that a time would surely come when Macy would want to send her BFF a box of chocolates, or a bag stuffed with gifts—hell, a simple housewarming present would do.
And then Drakkar could use the doctor, and the doctor could use Macy…
The pretty, wrapped gifts would not contain delectable chocolates. They would not contain a snow globe or a bottle of fine wine. They would be the pagan substitute of a Trojan horse: ten, fifteen, maybe twenty ancient demons, all in beetle form, nestled snugly inside the packages, waiting to invade, shift, and attack. Drakkar was gambling on the fact that the doctor could get Drak’s pagans through the portal—and into that foreign realm—that they could one day slip in, undetected, posing as harmless gifts. And then they could strike swiftly—and definitively—at The Pantheon of Dragons.