I am Dragon (Dragon Fires Rising Book 2) by Marc Secchia (famous ebook reader TXT) 📕

execute a swift landing. Warriors both scaly and not patrolled above; the keep had been breached, and even before they touched down, the Sankir began to yell at his Rangers to find the youngest brother, or at least, find out his location. The staff had gathered inside the entry hall. Amongst them, the Lady of the castle stood apart, railing bitterly at everyone and everything.

After discovering that the castle did not have a surgeon of any capability and the Lady was not exactly willing to help, Dragon poked his head into the hall and summoned up his most sensitive self.

“Lady Gazaram! Your husband is dead and if you don’t shut your lying, treasonous trap, I promise I will immortalise you in charcoal as well!”

She collapsed in a dead faint. Perfect.

He glared at the rest of the servants. “Anyone else in a mood not to help?”

Turned out they were all incredibly zealous. Amazing. However, the best they could offer was a nurse and a seamstress capable of very fine stitching, one Chanize. Aha – that would be the sweet-looking young blonde woman sitting in a rolling chair. His fires brightened.

Doth yon Dragon devise a devious scheme? Something like that, anyways.

Dragon pointed with his talon. “Rangers. Get King Azerim on that table. Nurse, clean his wounds and you, girl, stitch whatever it is that’s bleeding so badly in his leg. Get the artery closed properly, hear me?”

“Sir!” the pair quavered in tandem.

“Where’s the nearest capable surgeon?”

Over the waters at Lord Jenarzam’s castle was the agreed answer. The debate then became whether to move the King and do just one trip, or to go there and fetch the man in rising storm winds, which would take valuable time. Azerim was in bad, bad shape. Despite the boot, his foot had almost been cut in half and the gash in his thigh was deep – it had only nicked an artery, but he had lost a great deal of blood. The seamstress bent over him, needle and thread moving steadily while the nurse pinched off the flow and mopped up with her free hand.

Outside, Aria gave her orders. No sign of the little boy so far, but the Anhoyal Rangers had not yet finished their search. One of the servants thought he might have heard Gazaram talking about hiding the boy somewhere out along the coastline, but he did not know where.

“Can someone get me up onto the table?” Chanize asked, wiping her brow. “Can’t see from here – oh, Sankir Farizam?”

“Chanize. May I help?”

“Gladly.”

Dragon scented the emotions between them. All the colours of a mountain meadow in the high summer. He grinned toothily, summarily terrifying every single person who was looking at him just now. High time for draconic mischief after all this brutal fighting and killing. He looked on as the girl put her arms around the man’s neck and he lifted her easily onto the table. That bloom of colour in her cheek. A hitch in his breath and the care he took with her person.

Aye! Gnarr. Move over for the Dragon in the house!

Brusquely, he said, “Once you’ve shut off that bleeding, let’s plan to sprint with the King over to Lord Jenarzam’s castle. Who can pack travel bags for the nurse and the seamstress?”

Chanize glanced up. “Uh, my Lord Dragon –”

“Congratulations. You have just been accepted into the service of the Crown.”

“I have?”

Squeaky. Just how he liked his women.

“That’s right,” Azania agreed, smelling the romantic subplot with infallible instinct. “Royal authority, straight from the King and Queen themselves. We have the power to put this rebellion to rest and secure the King and his brothers by any means we deem necessary.”

“You can’t do that. She’s a bondservant,” the Lady Gazaram groaned, having recovered a few of her senses, by the sounds of her whining.

“Oh, I can and I will,” Dragon growled. “I require her service.”

The nurse said, “And me?”

“Bind that leg and foot. We need to minimise the bleeding until the surgeon can see him.” He leered at the servants. “Woman. Go pack, or must I persuade you?” Fire leaked from between his fangs.

Don’t overdo the tyranny, Azania half-laughed half-scolded playfully.

She knew exactly what he was about.

Also, Chanize was now properly terrified of him. Sigh. Best rectify that detail once they were up in the air. He gave her a parting snarl as she wheeled out of the hall. The Sankir looked desperately unimpressed. Obviously some peoples’ brains were exhausted and misfiring badly. He’d get the idea just as soon as this despotic Dragon executed part two of his wicked scheme. Just now, he demanded that Azania’s injuries also be seen to so that she could embark on a flight.

Aria stepped up beside him. We might find ourselves searching this area on foot and by wing. I’ll see what the other groups have come up with; see that as many Princes as possible are secured.

They might be keen to help with the search, he suggested.

Good idea. You’re as full of ideas as you are mischief, aren’t you? He rumbled immodestly. So, here’s the plan. You sprint for Jenarzam and I’ll rendezvous with the other teams at my lair as planned. I would have wanted to show you my place, but our job is far from complete. We’ll come find you when we can. Saving King Azerim is our top priority. Fly safe and strong, Dragon.

You too, Aria.

His undisguised longing surprised them both.

After a moment, she stroked his flank with her wingtip, a gesture definitely on the intimate side of friendly. I’ve never appreciated having a big, powerful male at my back as much as today. You shone in battle, Dragon.

Thank you!

With that, she was off to make more arrangements. He buzzed with elation. What a high compliment from the lethal Isles Dragoness!