Dragon Bound (Elder Races #1)(57)

The second bit was a lot easier. She drew the blade across her palm. It was a good deep cut. Pain blossomed and her own blood began to drip down her wrist.

The advancing army had crossed into bow-shot range, close enough she could hear the Goblins laugh and call to one another.

Talk about a last-ditch effort. Wish I knew if this would work. Guess we’ll find out soon enough.

“Here goes nothing, big guy,” she muttered. She met his falcon-sharp eyes and slapped her open cut against his.

For a few seconds it seemed nothing happened. Then something flared and flowed out of her, passed through her palm and entered him. His head fell back. He gasped as he swayed on his knees. His Power roared in response.

She swayed, dizzy from the transference. Then Dragos shimmered and expanded so fast she fell on her back.

She struggled to prop herself up on her elbows, staring up openmouthed at the appearance of the enormous dragon who stood over her.

Oh. My. God. She had imagined what he must look like. She had caught that one glimpse of his shadow flowing over the beach. Nothing could have prepared her for the impact of the real thing. He had to be the size of a private jet.

He was varying shades of bronze that had an iridescent glint in the sunshine. His wide, heavy-muscled chest was right overhead. Her head bobbled back and forth as she took in the long legs planted on either side of her. The bronze color darkened to black at the ends of his legs. His feet had curved talons that had to be the length of her forearm. His body narrowed to powerful haunches and long tail.

She stared for a frozen moment at the slit in the sheath of thick bronze hide between his hind legs, covering the region of his genitals. There didn’t appear to be any part of him that was vulnerable.

Massive shadows unfurled across the ground. He had opened his wings and mantled like an eagle.

Her body rediscovered how to move. She scrambled backward on hands and feet, scuttling like a crab.

He arched his long serpentine neck. He tilted down a horned triangular head that was the length of her body so that he could look at her with eyes that were great pools of molten lava. With a sound that sliced the air, he whipped his tail back and forth.

“That’s my long, scaly, reptilian tail. And it’s bigger than anyone else’s,” Dragos said in a voice that was deeper, larger, yet still recognizable as his. One huge eyelid dropped in an unmistakable wink.

She collapsed in hysterical laughter.

“Stay down,” the dragon told her. He lowered his head as he turned to the bluff, a sleek, sinuous behemoth. He bared his teeth in a vicious challenge. “BRING IT ON, YOU SON OF A BITCH.”

One by one the Dark Fae riders rose into the air on their dragonfly steeds. They turned and flew away.

It was impossible to see, but she sensed the predator in him vibrating with the instinct to give chase. He held himself back, though, and she knew why. He wouldn’t leave her unprotected with the Goblin/Fae army so near.

She pushed up on one elbow to stare in the direction of their pursuers. The Goblins and Fae riders had turned away. They were in full retreat.

The sound of ripping soil had her looking back at the dragon. He was digging his talons into the ground as he snarled at their retreat.

“Dragos,” she said. He looked at her. She jerked her head toward the retreating army. “Go.”

He needed no further encouragement. He crouched and sprang into the air. A roar split the sky like a thunderclap. The Goblins began to scream as the killing began. She was ferociously, vindictively glad.

It was not so much a battle as it was extermination. After Dragos’s first spectacular dive and roll when he winged low over their heads and spouted fire, she couldn’t watch anymore. She turned onto her stomach, put her arms over her head and waited for it to be over.

The stink of Goblin was overcome with the smell of oily smoke. It was not long before silence fell over the plain. There was no one left to do a body count. None of their enemies made it off the plain alive.

She nestled her nose deeper in the tall, sweet-smelling grass. The sun was high in the sky. It was warm on her back and shoulders. A quiet rustling in the grass grew closer. A shadow fell over her. Something very light tickled her forearms that covered the back of her head. It whuffled in her hair.

She scratched an arm. “Did you kill the Fae horses?”

The whuffling stopped. Dragos said in a cautious voice, “Was I not supposed to?”

She shrugged. “It just wasn’t their fault.”

“If it helps any, I was hungry and ate one.” Another whuffle.

She couldn’t help but chuckle. “I guess that does help some.”

She rolled over. He had stretched out alongside her, his great body between her and the remains of the Goblin/Fae army. His wings, a dramatic sweep of bronze darkening to black at the tips, were folded back. His hide glinted in the sun. She lifted her head and looked in the direction of a few plumes of smoke. His triangular head came down in front of her, golden eyes keen. “You don’t need to look over there,” he said in a gentle voice.

She sat up and leaned against his snout. She laid her cheek against him. Close up, she could see a faint pattern like scales in his hide. She stroked the wide curve of one nostril. It seemed somewhat softer than the rest of him. He held very still, breathing light and shallow.

“What does that feel like?” she asked him.

“It feels good.” He sighed, a great gust of wind, and he seemed to relax. “Thank you for saving my life again, Pia Alessandra Giovanni.” He made the syllables of her human name sound musical.