Page 83 of Dragon Awakened

Every phone in the room goes off at once. Freya brings hers to her ear, and her face flashes white. "Shadow Dragons," she calls out.

The ground shakes again, and my magic flows into the floor, keeping me and the room steady when the very earth feels like it's ready to crumble.

Rafe reaches me and takes me by the arm. "I guess it's too much to hope that these new Shadow Dragons are friends of yours, too, huh?"

Outside, the darkness flashes with crackles of purple light, and punishing wind slams into the building. A window explodes, sending shards of glass flying.

Storm flexes his arms, and the glass is deflected away.

I dare to look toward the gaping window, and my stomach drops into my toes. There are dozens of ebony dragons darkening the sky.

Rhiannon rounds on Rook. "I thought you said you misled them. That you had time. But they followed you right here!"

"No," Storm says, and his voice is aching. "They followed me."

I track his gaze back to the sky.

There--emerging from the tangled web of shadows and black scale are a whole horde of gleaming silver and ice blue dragons. The very air parts for them as they fly, screaming through the darkness.

And all of them, Air Dragon and Shadow Dragon alike, are led by Prince Fury himself.

STORM

That motherfucker.

Rage and guilt tear through me as I watch my brother's dragon surge across the darkened sky. The wind whips violently beneath his wings, the telltale scent of ozone sparking in the air. Lightning sears the heavens, followed by a deafening boom as the air begins to spiral into mini-cyclones of destructive force.

And it's all my fault. I could have ended Fury when he was tied up in the corner of my garage.

I could have stopped him. Years ago, when he was tormenting Ember and spouting our father's violent bullshit, I could have stood up to him.

But no. I sat there and watched.

And now he's here, leading an army of Air Dragons and Shadow Dragons to attack my mate and our friends.

I'm not sitting idly by anymore.

I'm out the door before I can entertain a single rational thought. The gales outside whip my hair and my clothes, and I'm a fucking lunatic, staring down a hundred dragons in the middle of the street, but I don't care.

"Fury," I scream into the wind. My dragon's growl makes my voice deep and rough. "Fury!"

My brother's dragon breaks from formation and flies three spiraling loops above my head. My dragon is straining against the tethers of my self-control, gnashing its teeth to be released, but I stand there, two feet firmly planted on the ground.

He flaps his wings, and I stagger against the wall of air that slams into me.

"Fury--" I shout once more.

He drops out of the sky before I can finish saying his name, his dragon receding. He lands in human form a dozen feet in front of me. "What?" he sneers. "You sniveling, weak little runt. What now--"

And I'm furious. Ready to rip my brother limb from limb.

But there's also a grief tearing at my insides.

"Don't do this," I hear myself plead. "Call it off."

"No." He shakes his head, snarling, his rage and pain a twisted mirror of my own. "You don't get to call the shots. I'm the heir. I'm the one who's supported Father from the very beginning. I'm the one in his confidence."

"Father's lost his mind."

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