Page 88 of Dragon Eternal (Dragon Kings 4)
“Taking what was ours.” The warrior sneered, hate and fury blazing in his gray eyes.
He realized this was the same man who had been standing with the woman. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Your kind made one of ours betray us.”
“Your anger is blinding you. You betrayed Jeyra.”
That only enraged the warrior more. They circled each other, waiting for the perfect chance to strike. “I’ve come for my revenge.”
“Against a Dragon King? The odds are no’ in your favor.”
The man smirked. “We held one before.”
“Good luck getting a second.” Shaw lunged as he swung his blade down, the tip of his sword slicing the warrior’s neck.
The man blinked in shock as his lips moved, but no words came. He grasped his wound as blood flowed between his fingers before he dropped to his knees. He was dead before his body hit the floor.
Shaw felt the pull toward the door again, but he kept his gaze away from it. He walked out onto the balcony and heard the battle below. “Merrill? Do you have Nia?”
But Merrill didn’t answer him. Shaw looked at the dead around him. He had more questions now and no one to answer them. Then he thought of the blonde. He started toward her when he heard screams from within the citadel.
“Nia,” he said as he rushed from the room.
* * *
It felt so good to let the anger out. Merrill struck down soldier after soldier. He never attacked, but if they came at him, he ended it. It was how it had always been. He might never start a fight, but he always finished them.
When he lifted his head, he was breathing heavily. He looked down at his hands. They were coated in blood. So was the rest of him. He blinked it out of his eyes as his gaze moved over the lifeless bodies lying around him in a circle, some stacked on top of others. With the sounds of battle gone, the city was eerily quiet.
Merrill’s eyes moved down the street to where he found a group of soldiers clumped together, watching him as if he were some crazed demon that needed to be put down. Shite, maybe he was. A look behind him showed more soldiers. But none of them appeared to have any inclination to come at him. He wouldn’t either with the pile of dead around him.
The explosion had set everyone off. A portion of the citadel had blown away while men screamed as they tumbled down from the lofty height. Merrill didn’t see any of those men shift, so he knew none of them were Shaw. That didn’t mean Shaw wasn’t in trouble, though. He had taken a step to go and find out about his friend when the first soldier had struck him. The blade had sliced into his upper arm. That was all it took for Merrill’s attention to shift to the men around him.
He made his way over the pile of dead and headed toward the soldier who’d waited at the end. When he reached the group, the soldiers parted, moving away from him quickly. Even the priest soldiers kept their distance while eying him suspiciously. Merrill didn’t care. Not about the humans or the war Brandr and Eurwen were trying to avert. It didn’t matter what the Kings or dragons wanted. The humans always dictated what happened. They were always in control, somehow, even though they didn’t have magic.
And, frankly, Merrill was sick of it.
Someone had to remind the mortals who had the power. Who could wipe them out. He hadn’t planned on it being him, but now that it was, he wasn’t sorry. About any of it. If anyone else stood in his way, he’d react the same. He was done pushing aside his emotions, ignoring the ache deep within him. There was no running from the misery within any longer.
It had rested in him, eating away at everything he was. Leaving him a shell of what he’d once been.
He continued from the fourth to the fifth level. The gate was barred—as if that would stop him. He shifted and took to the sky. Screams sounded as humans caught sight of his true form. Merrill ignored them and flew straight to the citadel. He returned to human form on the broken balcony, his eyes taking in the clothing of the dead.
“Orgate,” he murmured.
This meeting had been a trap. Wrath burned hotly as Merrill strode inside the room. There were three doors other than the one to the balcony. Two of them, one on either end of the room, were open. It was the one directly opposite him that was closed. He frowned, sensing something within.
Merrill stared at the door. He wanted to go to it and see what was inside. It was important. He could feel it. Just as he felt something attempting to communicate with him. Was there some creature within? Someone with magic being held? If so, he would free them.
He took a step when a moan reached him. His head whipped to the side. Merrill’s gaze landed on a woman dressed in fine clothes, her blond hair askew. He made his way to her, pausing to stare at her. He couldn’t decide whether to leave her or help. Finally, he bent and pulled the bodies off her. Her lashes fluttered open as he squatted beside her. She blinked several times and rolled onto her back. It allowed him to see that the right side of her face was scarred from long-healed burns that went down her neck before disappearing beneath her top.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
Her blue eyes widened a fraction. She licked her lips and shook her head before wincing.
Merrill held her gaze, watching for her to do anything that would give him reason to kill her. “What happened?”
“Ambush,” she croaked before swallowing.
“Who are you?”
“Villette.”
“Do you work for the Divine?”
