Warriors' Dream [Chronicles of the Shifter Directive 3] (Siren Publishing Epic Romance ManLove) Read online

  Chronicles of the Shifter Directive 3

  Warriors' Dream

  In the paranormal world, the greatest legend is that of fae prince Talrasar Myrthylar and his dragon mate, Kaelezrin Tersain. It is the story of the Great Sacrifice, a time when two warriors ended their own lives and their bond to save the world from destruction.

  But their story isn’t over yet. An unexpected attack on their descendents suddenly brings them back, two men out of time, relics of a past long considered myth. However, once again their attempt to help costs them, and the two men are separated. Suffering from amnesia, Talrasar falls into the hands of an unlikely foe. A desperate Kael begins the quest to find his mate, enlisting the help of their descendents.

  Meanwhile, a new political ploy threatens Ornoz and its shaky leadership. Can Talrasar and Kaelezrin navigate the murky waters of their chaotic future? Will their sacrifice finally be repaid, or is the warriors’ dream to have a family fated to never come true?

  NOTE! You are purchasing Siren's newest imprint, the Siren Epic Romance collection. This is Book 3 of 7 in the Chronicles of the Shifter Directive series. The series shares an overall story arc with many crossover characters playing major roles in each book. These books are not stand-alone and should be read in their numbered order.

  Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Paranormal, Shape-shifter

  Length: 79,764 words

  WARRIORS’ DREAM

  Chronicles of the Shifter Directive 3

  Scarlet Hyacinth

  SIREN EPIC ROMANCE,

  MANLOVE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Siren Epic Romance, ManLove

  WARRIORS’ DREAM

  Copyright © 2013 by Scarlet Hyacinth

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-187-6

  First E-book Publication: August 2013

  Cover design by Siren Publishing

  All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

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  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  WARRIORS’ DREAM

  Chronicles of the Shifter Directive 3

  SCARLET HYACINTH

  Copyright © 2013

  Prologue

  In the long history of Ornoz, very few cases of black dragons were ever documented. From the beginning of time, most draechen were aligned to one of the elements, usually earth, ice, fire or air. But black draechen were different. They preyed on all energy, not depending on a specific element for their magic. They absorbed it all.

  No one even remembers now the true name of the first black dragon. But in those ancient times, when the most powerful ruled and pure strength meant respect, he became the first leader of the draechen, the first one to ever unite his usually solitary people. It was in those days that Ornoz was born, an incipient, reclusive nation hidden away from the rest of the world.

  But what seemed to be a promising rule melted into a near apocalypse when, on the black dragon’s two hundredth birthday, the leader lost control of his beast. He hunted down thousands of draechen before finally, he succumbed to his own power and perished. His name faded into the annals of history, replaced by a new one. The Ancient Horror.

  Through the Horror’s deeds, the draechen, now far fewer, became aware of the dangers hiding behind the power of the black dragon. When one of these rare shifters appeared, they automatically sought to destroy him or her. But as other nations grew in power, draechen scholars began studying the issue. Black dragons were an incredible weapon, one that could be used for the benefit of Ornoz, if it was controlled.

  As they learned, draechen in general could live for two centuries with seemingly no problem. When they entered into their two hundredth year of life, though, loneliness settled in and could potentially drive the dragon in question mad. Usually, this wasn’t a problem, since the situation could be avoided through one simple solution, finding a mate, an anchor. Even in the case where a normal draechen didn’t achieve this until the deadline, he still had hope. But the overwhelming power of the black dragons made the two hundredth birthday an ominous death toll.

  It was decided that, as long as there would be black dragons, they would forever become soldiers, weapons to serve Ornoz. Should they become a danger, on the last day of the last year, they would be eradicated. Since they were immune to weapons of any type, as well as spells, the chosen method was, usually, starvation, although scholars warned that they could die should they absorb too much energy, like the Ancient Horror had.

  And so, black dragons were allowed to live among other draechen, all the while still carrying the terrible stigma of their legacy and curse. It wasn’t until the time of Prince Kaelezrin Tersain that it all changed. Prince Kaelezrin, the first black dragon in the imperial line since the time of the Ancient Horror, the same one who would, eventually, save Ornoz, and the human world, from destruction.

  Chapter One

  The 14th century A.D., Italy

  The plague was getting worse. With every passing day, more humans were dying all over Europe. Ta
lrasar buried his face in his hands, despair threatening to crumble his soul. Whenever he chose to save a patient, someone else, maybe a few feet away from him, died because of his inability to be there. Other fae healers were helping, but the Ivenian forces were spread thin, and the main factor causing it had not been dealt with.

  There were dead and sick people all over the place, in the streets, in public buildings or homes. With one human Talrasar healed, three more fell ill. But even knowing that his efforts were akin to those of the legendary Sisyphus, Talrasar refused to give up. He shook his own personal agony and guilt off and continued on to a sick woman. “Angelo… Angelo di Dio! Aiuto,” the woman croaked out, reaching out to him as he approached.

  It was what they always called him because of his fair hair and outlandish looks. An angel. Talrasar wished he truly had divine abilities, because sometimes, it felt that his healing powers didn’t suffice. He obeyed Jenarra and was thankful to the goddess for her gifts, but even abilities as strong as his couldn’t hold back such an outbreak of disease.

  Kneeling next to the woman, Talrasar summoned his healing abilities. Jenarra’s light rushed out of him and into the woman, casting away the disease, cleaning her blood and immunizing her to future infection. When he was done, Talrasar got up, leaving the exhausted patient where she lay. Normally, he’d have liked to care for each of these people until they were up and about, but he didn’t have time for that now.

  As he progressed toward the next prone form, he found that this particular human hadn’t survived long enough for Talrasar to run to his aid. “Sii in pace, amico mio,” Talrasar whispered as he swept his fingers over the man’s still open eyelids.

  His heart broke a little when he saw the dead child the man was holding. Reining in his sorrow, he turned away and waved one of his guards closer. “These bodies need to be gathered and buried. We can’t just leave them lying there. They’re just helping to spread the plague.”

  “Yes, Highness.” The man bowed. “We’ll handle it at once.”

  Insofar as it was possible, Talrasar aimed to cooperate with human authorities. The sprites were doing their best to control speculation, since with the plague, accusations of witchcraft were running rampant. As if the victims of the plague hadn’t been enough, communities of those who were different became targets. It angered Talrasar, but he couldn’t be everywhere at once.

  After the brief exchange, Talrasar went on to another patient, then another. Hours passed, and he became increasingly nauseous and drained, but he didn’t stop. As he finished another healing process, he staggered and likely would have fallen had another fae not been there to catch him. At first, Talrasar thought it was one of his guards, but as it turned out, that wasn’t the case.

  He recognized the man behind him as a messenger from his father. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “You’ve been summoned to Eternelle, Your Highness,” the man reported. “Your presence is required for a matter of grave importance.”

  Talrasar couldn’t believe his ears. “Now? I’m needed here. People are dying.”

  Wincing, the messenger handed Talrasar a white pearl. Talrasar knew what that meant, an order from his father, one he couldn’t ignore, no matter how much he wanted to. When King Amarion made a decision, no one could go against it, not even Talrasar. Frustrated and nearly in tears, Talrasar brushed his thumb over the pearl. Instantly, his father’s face appeared in a sphere of bright light. “I know you don’t want to return to Eternelle,” he said without preamble, “but you must.”

  “Father, we are too few here as it is,” Talrasar countered, “and I’m the strongest healer. If I leave, hundreds more will perish.”

  “You’re fighting a losing battle, and you know it, son,” he said. “I won’t allow you to make the same mistake your mother did. Come home. I’ve spoken to the draechen. We’re hoping that, together, we can actually handle the source.”

  Talrasar’s breath caught. His father had finally managed to reach the elusive dragon-shifters, one of the few races who had the power to contain the hordes of the werewolves and vampires that had brought this menace onto the world of man. They weren’t numerous, but perhaps once other shape-changers saw the draechen had decided to cooperate, they would get involved as well.

  For the first time in what seemed like forever, hope surged through Talrasar. But the moans of the sick still sounded in his ears. “Surely, you can reach an agreement with the draechen without my presence,” he told the older fae.

  “The agreement itself isn’t the issue. You’re the one who has all the information regarding where the areas most affected are and where the bats and the wolves are likely to be hiding. I have shown your reports to the draechen, and they are demanding to see you.”

  Talrasar was torn. His father had a point in that, if a battle against the shifters who’d caused the plague lay ahead, Talrasar would have to get involved personally. He wasn’t only a healer, but also a general of the Ivenian forces. His armies might be spread out all over the world now, but his knowledge was required if they had any hope to defeat this. But that part of him that couldn’t bear one single death urged him to stay, to heal, to rush to the aid of the sick.

  Having obviously guessed Talrasar’s thoughts, Amarion added, “I’ve sent additional healers to cover for your absence. Hurry back. The draechen are waiting in one of the outposts, and they’re losing their patience. We can’t afford any more wasted time.”

  Talrasar briefly looked away from the pearl, only to realize that, indeed, there were other fae spreading out all over the city. Recognizing a few, he understood what his father had done, and just how needed Talrasar was. “I’m on my way,” he told Amarion. “And thank you.”

  As the light started to dim, one of the nearby soldiers handed him a horse. Wrapping his cloak tightly around him, Talrasar mounted the beast and rode out of the city. Earlier today, he’d thought all was lost and that the entire world of man would fall with the fae helpless to do anything about it. But now, he saw that there might be a chance for the humans yet. He only hoped that the draechen wouldn’t prove to be a disappointment.

  * * * *

  “This is ridiculous.” Orvan huffed and took another sip of wine from his goblet. “What are we waiting for? We should be hunting down those wolves and bats already.”

  Kael scanned the map he’d been given and absently replied, “We need the cooperation of the fae if we’re going to have any luck with our task.”

  “That’s another thing that pisses me off,” Orvan answered. “Why did they insist on meeting us here? Why not invite us to their capital? Don’t they trust us?”

  “We’ve given them no reason to,” Kael answered. Hmm… It seemed that the vampires and the wolves were far more numerous than he’d thought in the beginning. He needed a good strategy if he was going to tackle this problem and expect success.

  Meanwhile, one of his commanders, Lord Cordellien Zager, approached and said, “I have that census report you requested, Prince Kaelezrin.”

  Cordell’s tone finally made Kael look up. “And?”

  “The numbers aren’t encouraging.” Cordell handed Kael the scroll. “We hope to find more people, but for the moment, these are the soldiers we can count on.”

  Kael took one look at the report and groaned. “Damn it. If what the fae king told us is accurate, this is never going to be enough.”

  Orvan scoffed. “For all we know, it’s complete nonsense. They have to be exaggerating. Not even the humans could succumb to a disease so quickly and in such large numbers.”

  Kael threw a glare toward his sibling. Sometimes, it awed Kael how a draechen could be so ignorant of basic historical facts. “It’s happened before. Or have you forgotten?”

  “Hundreds of years ago,” Orvan pointed out. “The situation was different then.”

  There were a lot of things Kael could have said to that, but before he could reply, a sudden strange emotion gripped him, unsettling his dragon. Kael reined in h
is beast, frowning. The last thing he needed now was to lose control over his powers.

  Before he could come up with a reason for his strange feeling, the doors of the meeting room opened, revealing the cause. A lovely male fae walked in, immediately providing an answer to Orvan’s comment. “Not much has changed in human settlements, in terms of hygiene and medical advancement.” The vision of beauty offered them a small, polite smile. “Greetings. I’m Prince Talrasar. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

  This was the Ivenian general famous for crawling in ditches with his men to honor the dead and giving every drop of power he had to heal the sick? Somehow, Kael had imagined him less…delicate. No, that wasn’t the right word. He simply had never thought that someone on this world could be so impossibly beautiful.

  Talrasar Myrthylar wasn’t a short man. In fact, his frame likely reached Kael’s shoulder, which was remarkable given Kael’s own height. The robes he wore did nothing to disguise his slender but athletic form. A lovely blue gem shone in the center of his forehead, but his silver eyes seemed to glitter like jewels themselves. His long white-blond hair appeared to be wet, and Kael imagined that he must have just come from taking a bath. That sent Kael’s mind to how Talrasar looked naked and how much Kael wanted to bathe him, with a washcloth or preferably with his tongue. It also made him frown at the thought of how many servants had assisted Talrasar in the washroom. That wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all. No one got to see Kael’s mate naked but him.