Eternal (Dragon Wars, #2) Read online

  Brett had warned her, sort of, the night before. He told her to spend the night in her tent because of the risks. Dougal made his big speech about males not caring about mating. She’d simply not expected it from him.

  Not that she was complaining, per se. As far as first kisses went, considering she’d waited thirty-six years for hers, it had been pretty spectacular. Dougal. The beach. The danger.

  His lips.

  “He’ll talk when I want him to and not talk when I don’t want him to. I’m his commander. He obeys me, it’s how this works.”

  “You don’t make a lick of sense.”

  “Well, your confusion works because you don’t make sense to me either. The last day with you has made me, I think, a little mad.”

  She put her hands on her hips. The boat rocked to the right and she tried not to notice.

  “Mad like angry or mad like nuts? Because I’d say you are making me both.”

  Davey laughed, covering his mouth, and Dougal scowled at him. “Something funny, pup?”

  “The mating dance. Makes everyone go berserk universally. My sister and her mate hollered at each other for a week and the poor sucker is blinded from a dragon attack. He screamed and she yelled. It was...”

  Dougal interrupted by stomping his foot on the floor of the boat. “Enough. I don’t want to hear another word..”

  She wanted to sink into the ocean floor beneath her. For one glorious second, when Davey had started talking, she’d been filled with ridiculous stupid hope. Mates argued? She’d never seen it or heard it described in such a way. Her parents had seen each other across a room and known instantly. Her friends always told the same story. Still, maybe the romance of it was all people wanted to remember, wanted to describe.

  Davey’s sister fought with her blind war hero mate?

  And then Dougal had slammed the whole thing to pieces.

  “Davey, Werewolves like Dougal would never mate me. I’m flawed and broken. The perfect specimen of your commander will find himself a less destroyed female, though he might like to play with someone like me in the meantime. Werewolves like him occasionally do.”

  “Hey.” Dougal sat straighter. “I’m not playing with you and I resent the implication—or, hell, you didn’t imply it—the accusation that I am.”

  Three shadows darkened the sky, silencing her response.

  Balanced, Davey surged to his to his feet, pointing at the sky. “Dragons. Three of them. Big purple lizards.”

  He was right. Three ginormous beasts, purple in color, circled around the boat. Conversation ceased.

  “Guns ready.” Dougal gave the order. She guessed it made sense. There had to be contingencies for when they couldn’t shift, like aboard a boat.

  Davey tried rescue his weapon off the boat floor. As he did, the dragons stooped lower, circling the boat. They flapped their wings and bellowed. The largest of the three, covered in not only purple but also red and blue, stared right at her.

  She forgot to breathe. Yesterday the dragon had come right for her. Today, dragons surrounded them and she had nowhere to go. They were in the middle of the ocean.

  “Davey, careful how you’re moving.” Dougal shouted at him while the other commander yelled directions too.

  “My gun. It’s stuck.”

  Caitlyn stared down. The young Werewolf wasn’t wrong. His gun had gotten stuck in a splinter in the wood. The weapon wasn’t going to move without some assistance. She reached forward. Maybe together they’d get the thing free.

  “Damn it, Caitlyn.” Dougal shouted over the commotion. “Stay still.”

  The flying beasts drew closer and closer to them. Each time they did, the waves raised higher thanks to the wind their wings brought with them. The boat rocked violently.

  She fell backwards against the side. Fear warred with nausea. The constant sway of the water beneath her made it impossible for her to find her equilibrium. By the gods, this would be the worst possible time to start puking.

  “Fire,” Dougal yelled. With the exception of Davey, who still struggled with his gun, the Werewolves fired at the sky, hitting one of the dragon’s mid-wing. The smallest of the beasts yowled before turning right to disengage the boat.

  Elation filled her. She’d never been so happy in her life to hear gunfire. Maybe it wasn’t going to be such a big deal. They’d simply shoot them until they went away.

  Davey tugged at his gun, howling as he freed it. A pop sounded and it took her a minute to process the noise, so soft when compared to the thunder of the beasts above. The paleness of Davey’s face struck her as odd. He’d gone from his healthy dark-olive skinned complexion to pale-white almost instantly. What was the matter?

  What had happened?

  Her shoulder burned.

  “By the gods, you stupid pup, what have you done?” Dougal shouted. She could smell the acrid scent of fear radiating off him for the first time. It was like...sulfur. She’d always detested the scent.

  Her hand came to her shoulder as the boat started rocking again. Red wetness covered her hand.

  “I think I’m shot.”

  “Yes.” Dougal tried to stand, except the violent wake assaulting the boat knocked him back. “You’re going to be okay. Look at me, beautiful. I don’t like the haze in your eyes. This is going to be fine. We’ll get to land, and you’ll shift. No big deal. It’ll heal.”

  “No.” He didn’t understand. No one ever did and their lack of understanding seemed so wrong to her. How could they not know when all they had to do was to look at her to grasp the truth? “I don’t heal. Shifting doesn’t fix me. I’m broken.”

  “You don’t know for sure.” Dougal shouted. “Bullets and fire are two different things.”

  No, she knew. She went cold. Everywhere from her hands to the tip of her nose dropped in temperature. The world spun around her. “I think I’m going into shock.”

  “Of course you are.”

  The boat rocked again, tilting violently to the side. She tried to stop it, knew what was going to happen before it did. Still, when she fell over the side into the frigid unwelcoming ocean, there wasn’t a thing she could do to change her destiny.

  She’d been shot and she was going to drown.

  Chapter Four

  Caitlyn fell overboard and Dougal would be damned if he’d let the ocean have her. He dove in after her without another thought. The dragons still circled overhead, but the others would have to deal with them.

  The cold water hit like a million tiny needles and the salt burned his eyes. None of his pain mattered. Reaching Caitlyn took priority over everything else.

  He saw her up ahead. She wasn’t moving. Totally submerged beneath the waves, he could see the blood from her bullet wound surrounding her body. If he didn’t get to her soon, she would drown.

  His Wolf wouldn’t be any better at managing this than his human form so he stayed as he was and kicked harder until he got to her. He circled his arms around her waist and kicked upward until they reached the surface.

  With a deep gasping breath, he pulled them above water. To his relief, he heard her take a breath too. She wasn’t conscious, but her body hadn’t started to shut down.

  “Don’t drown,” he yelled at her although doing so was pointless. “Are you awake?” She didn’t answer in words, her groan speaking volumes. “Good. Keep moaning. I really love the sound.”

  Whatever noises she wanted to make worked for him. As long as she lived.

  Getting to the boat wasn’t an option. His soldiers were firing at the dragons. He floated, staring at the scene. Shore was their best chance for survival. His men would retrieve them after they disposed of the dragons.

  It was strange how the creatures had caught them. They’d taken the trip to the nest under the cover of grey clouds during the hours when the lizards usually slept. Why were three of them out and attacking? They’d never protected the fields before. It wasn’t like the Wolves had ever been able to do any real damage to the nests.

>   He kicked for the shore. “Don’t worry about a thing, Caitlyn. This is no big deal.” Lying made him feel better too. “It’s like swimming back home in Duncan’s pond. Did you ever go there?” Of course the pond hadn’t had the huge waves or the undertow. He’d continue to pretend it was the pond...the pond worked for him.

  “No.”

  “Oh.” He swam harder. “She speaks.”

  “Thank you for saving me.”

  She sounded weak, and he didn’t like it. They’d hit the shoreline in a minute. Then he’d get her to shelter, if such a thing existed on the island of doom, and figure out what to do from there. Their day hadn’t come with a guidebook. What to do when the woman who made you behave in impossible ways got shot by your idiot soldier and then fell overboard during a dragon attack?

  “Why didn’t you swim in Duncan’s pond? It’s a rite of passage. Turn eighteen, go get in the pond until dawn. You’re not too much younger than me. Six years, right? Surely everyone still does the swim.”

  She coughed and then groaned. He didn’t know whether her fall into the ocean or her gunshot wound hurt more. Both had to suck.

  “I’m sure everyone else does only...” Whatever she would have said ended. Her head lolled backwards. They’d reached the beach, but as he pulled her from the water her eyes rolled, went completely white, then they closed.

  “Fuck.” Not good. He pulled her against him. Soaking wet, he knew he didn’t offer much body heat. The good, or maybe bad news, lay in the fact the cold wasn’t her only issue. Swinging around, he tried to spot the boat. His fellow soldiers still battled one dragon, the smallest of the group of three. Where had the big bad one gone?

  Maybe they’d killed it and left the purple goon floating in the sea ready to be food for the sharks.

  Dougal carried Caitlyn. He didn’t want to go too far from the shore. Neither did he want to be out in the open, waiting for another group of dragons to come and kill them. He was good. Still, he wouldn’t be managing three dragons all by himself.

  Ahead were caves. They had shallow openings, probably too small for the dragons to fit through. Of course if they knew they were in there, a lizard could shove its head into the hole and burn them to death.

  “Okay, Caitlyn, I think I found a spot to hide.” He’d be able to hear the boats when they came back for them. His muscles ached from the swim. It had been too long since he’d engaged in swimming as exercise. Fortunately, he used to do it all the time. Muscle memory went a long way.

  The minute it took to carry her the slight dune toward the caves felt like an hour. “Don’t you die on me, Caitlyn. Do you understand?”

  She didn’t answer, not so much as a groan. He set her on the ground. First things first, he had to get her wet clothes off so he could see the damage. Afterward, he’d somehow wake her so she could shift. Her denials notwithstanding, he doubted very much she could shift and not lose the bullet in her body. The momentum alone would have to expel the bullet.

  Dougal went to work on her clothes. When he’d taken them off, and not nearly in the manner in which he’d envisioned earlier in the shower, he stared at her. The skin on her body had a bluish tint he didn’t like.

  “Bullet first, Dougal. Cold later.” Hearing his own voice kept him centered. She needed to wake. Shifting couldn’t be done while she was passed out, unfortunately.

  “Caitlyn.” He shook her slightly. “Come on, beautiful.” No response. “Damn it.” If it was one of his men, he’d probably slap them across the face. He knew it was life or death and yet somehow he didn’t think he could actually bring himself to strike her.

  “One way or another, I’m going to have to get the bullet out of you.”

  He tried to imagine what the medics who worked on the Wolves would do in the same situation. Sometimes the wounded came to them out cold. No shift was possible, it had to wait. There were things they did for the patients.

  Of course they had equipment and he had nothing at all. Except his fucking mouth.

  “Ah, damn it.”

  She couldn’t shift. He could. One way or another, he’d get Davey’s misfired bullet out of her arm.

  “This will hurt, beautiful.”

  He called his shift and waited the few seconds until his body changed. His fangs were good for tearing at dragon flesh. This, however, had to be more surgically precise. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt one inch of her delicate softness.

  Whimpering, he licked the skin over the wound. He tasted her blood and the saltiness from the ocean. This was going to hurt her and he’d much rather rip out his own claws.

  Using only his front teeth he bit into her skin. She didn’t move or flinch beneath him. He might have preferred her to cry out. The complete lack of response from her concerned him more than anything. He dug carefully with his mouth until he could feel the bullet in his teeth. The metal burned his tongue.

  He pulled backwards, extracting the bullet slowly. Doing more damage wouldn’t do her any good. Once out of her skin, he spit the bullet onto the ground. Her shoulder was a mess and it tore at him. Some of her injury was from his ministrations.

  Dougal shifted backwards. She was bleeding pretty badly and it had to stop. “Caitlyn.” He called her name again. “I could really use some help here. This is not my forte and if you die from me trying to help you I’m afraid I’ll be a lost Wolf.”

  To be honest, he’d been pretty much lost since he’d met her. Dougal discarded his shirt. It was wet and—damn it—dirty but it would have to do. He pressed it on the bloody mess of her shoulder. The pressure roused her. Her groan was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

  “Oh, good news.” He wanted to laugh. “You’re in pain and you’re responding to it.”

  Her eyes fluttered open. “Dougal?”

  “Yes. That’s me.” He touched the side of her face. After chewing on her body, he needed to show her tenderness. Only he wasn’t done trying to fix her yet. “I got the bullet out. You have to shift. It’ll fix you.”

  “I told you.” Her voice sounded hoarse. “It isn’t going to work. I don’t fix the same as everyone else.”

  “This is not a burn. This is a bullet wound. Your body will have to stitch back together during the change.”

  “It won’t.”

  “Caitlyn.” He shouted and then wished he hadn’t. The dragons couldn’t smell them, but they could certainly hear. He had to keep his voice lower, be more careful. “You have to shift. Don’t argue with me.”

  She winced. “I’m in so much pain.”

  “I can imagine. The pain will stop too. Please, Caitlyn. Be a good girl. Shift.”

  With a long sigh, she did as he asked. He waited the few minutes for her body to change over. Slower than he’d like, then again Females tended to shift in a slower manner, naturally. They all had things they were better at doing. He’d never be able to give birth. Or endure as much pain as she must be in without bellowing to the heavens.

  Finally, her body took its wolf shape. The dark brown canine in front of her hit the ground hard, her four legs collapsing. He grabbed her. “Whoa, there. Why did you fall?”

  She should have been stronger like this. He put his hand where her shoulder had reformed and gasped when he pulled it away. Caitlyn was still bleeding.

  “No. No. No.” He didn’t know whom he bellowed his denial at. The universe? The gods? “Okay, I get it. You’re right. It didn’t fix. I was wrong. I’m ass for not listening.”

  The wolf in his arms made a grumbling sound much akin to an exasperated laugh. She was exhausted, injured, freezing, and he made her shift—after he’d bit into her shoulder.

  He didn’t have to ask her to shift back. She did it without being told. “I’m a freak. Badly designed. Made wrong.”

  “Stop. Talking like you are isn’t helpful. You have to stop. We need to get you warm and we’ll wait for the boat. Get you back and people smarter than me will fix you.”

  “No. I don’t think I have that kind of time.
I lose consciousness again, and I’m not coming back.”

  “You can’t know if you’ll come back or not.” He wasn’t going to let her die. His hands shook. He’d lost men. Lots of them, more than he could count anymore and every one of them weighed on him like a weight on his shoulders. So much he might fall over from it someday. Losing Caitlyn would be the end of him.

  Why that was, he’d deal with later. Certain things could only be denied for so long. This kind of situation made things very clear.

  “I do. I can feel it. Things are slipping away. Like they did the last time. When everything burned.”

  “No.” He kissed her on the lips, gentle like he should have done last time. “You lived through then and you’ll make it through this one too.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What? What did your noise mean?”

  “There’s something to try.” Her eyes fluttered. “Go to the eggs. They have a sort of stickiness around them. It’s why they don’t burn. It might close the wound. It’ll burn like hell on my open skin. Maybe it might not work. I don’t know if it has those kinds of properties to it or not.”

  “The eggs?” He looked outside, catching the sound of dragons’ wings flapping. They were not alone anymore. Whatever it took, he’d get the substance. Dragons be damned.

  ****

  The wind whipped inside the cave. It sounded like wind chimes, which was not a sound she’d heard since she was a child. Whoosh. Whoosh. Ding.

  What was dinging? She tried to sit, but it hurt like hell. It didn’t take long to abandon the idea. Dougal had been gone for a while. For a few seconds she struggled to remember what he’d been doing. Oh that was right, she’d told him to get the coating from the eggs.

  It might not work. The dragons would kill him, and it’d be all her fault. Like it came on cue, a dragon bellowed outside. She closed her eyes. Dougal was out there alone in the egg field. A tear slipped over her face and then another one. Before long, she’d given into the constant urge to cry.

  Life had been funny and not in a good way. In a family of seven, she’d been born wrong. Then she’d fallen for the boy next door, not weird really. Her sister Lena married his brother. It was easy to want to mate the Owens boys. Only Lena was a real functioning Werewolf and Caitlyn, for all of her smarts and abilities, was not.