Full-shifted dragons are not that easy to kill.
Layala peeled his fingers away from her mouth.Can’t you snappity snap his neck?
No. Stop asking questions.
His weight seemed to grow heavier the longer they lay there. And he was pressing down on her bladder.Is it gone yet? I have to pee.
He dropped his chin and glared down at her.Are you five when you’re drunk? Hold it.
The sound of massive nostrils sniffing the air made Layala stiffen up and grip Hel tighter.
What happened to the poofing? Poof us!
My memory of the exact location is a little fuzzy.
“I smell you rats. Come out,” said the deep rough voice of the dragon. “No one kills six dragons on Ryvengaard and gets to walk away.” The stomping footfalls came closer. The snout came into view, blocking out the stars.
Get us out of here!
He can’t see us.
He can step on us!
A giant paw lifted above them, Layala screamed, and everything went dark until a few seconds later her back was pressed up against a wall and Hel was flat on her front. There was no dragon. All around them was tall golden grass that reached her hips, and sparse trees on rolling hills that seemed to shimmer in the silver moonlight.
Hel looked up. “Well, we made it.”
Layala pushed him off her. “You waited until we were about to get squished.”
“I’m a bit disoriented from the realm switch, as well. At least I got us here.”
The beige wall was at least seventy feet high, though bits of it crumbled and chunks of it were gouged. A massive hole she could easily get through was to the left. She slipped inside the wall and found an aged, but still standing manor.
Hel walked past her. “Let’s go inside and see if it’s livable.”
She watched his back, the stealthy way he moved. The pale light from the moons shone down on him, bathing him in silver. That dragon encounter sobered her up quickly and she couldn’t get her feet to move. She ran her hands down her face. “I find your dark side sexy?” I’m so embarrassed. I could sit down and die right here.
Hel glanced back with a smirk. “I won’t forget it either.”
Chapter34
LAYALA
The doors to the manor creaked as Hel pushed them inward. With no overgrowth around the entry like on other parts of the three-story house, or giant holes in the walls, someone had to maintain the place. In fact, considering how old this place was, it was a miracle it even stood at all.
A candelabra with six candles flickered to life on the entry table to the right. Layala ran her finger over the surface of the round table, leaving a streak in several years’ worth of dust. Up above in the high-domed ceiling was a tall crystal chandelier with chunks hanging down or missing completely. Hel’s gait was silent as a ghost while he moved to peer around the corner leading into another room.
Moving light came through an archway further ahead and then a figure appeared. Male, tall, unkempt shoulder-length light hair, wearing a night robe with fur trim. He might have been a dragon or a different kind of shifter, but she couldn’t distinguish any features to tell.
All three went silent as a staring match ensued.
“Valeen,” the stranger finally said, adjusting his round golden glasses. “It’s you.” He dropped to a knee and bowed his head, setting the single burning candle he held on the floor beside him. “My Queen.”
“Who are you?” Layala went to step around Hel, but his arm shot out blocking her.
“Prove to me it’s you, Presco, before I tear your head off.”
The male lifted his head. “You once promised me if I ever looked at Valeen’s ass again, you’d, and I quote, ‘tear my skull from my spine and set it on a pike and once it dried you’d use it as decor in your office’. Guess things never change do they?”