Dragon Seeker, Part Three Read online

  Dragon Seeker Part Three

  Carina Wilder

  Contents

  Foreword

  Introduction

  1. Glastonbury

  2. The Local

  3. The Arthurian Inn

  4. Friends and Enemies

  5. What Doesn’t Kill You…

  6. Into the Abyss

  7. Separation Anxiety

  8. Strangers

  9. Minach

  10. Surprise

  11. Twin

  12. Struggle

  13. Allies

  14. Home

  15. Teaser from Dragon’s Lover, coming soon!

  Also by Carina Wilder

  Foreword

  This is the third and last book in Trix and Lyre’s story, Dragon Seeker. For more of the Dragon Hunter Chronicles, see the links below.

  Dragon Hunter Chronicles:

  Dragon Hunter

  Dragon Seeker, Book One

  Dragon Seeker, Book Two

  Dragon’s Lover is coming soon!

  Introduction

  “It would not be remotely out of the question to assume that Forsaken and their Lapsed minions dwell near the Tor,” Tryst snapped. “They are as close to living dead as there are. And they may very well be waiting for the Seeker’s arrival.”

  “We’ll be careful,” Lyre assured his fellow Dragon shifter, signing his response. “I won’t let anything happen to my Seeker.”

  “And I’ve no doubt Trix will protect her mate,” Lumen said. “I’ve heard about her abilities with blades.”

  “She may well have to,” Tryst responded. “A Dragon’s powers might be diminished at the Tor. Its magic shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

  “Then maybe we should all go,” mused Aegis. “We were all present when Neko found the first Relic; perhaps we should be there for the second.”

  “I’m afraid that we need the Dragon shifters to stay in London,” Lumen said, his voice commanding. “There have been more sightings of Forsaken in the last couple of days. We can’t afford to leave the human population undefended. Besides which, Lyre and Trix will be safest if they don’t attract a great deal of attention.”

  “We’ll be all right,” Trix said. “We’ll just pretend to be a couple of tourists out for a walk about the place. No one will be the wiser.”

  “Let’s hope you’re right,” said Tryst. “Well, good luck to you both. I wish you well.”

  “Thank you,” Trix replied. “And we’ll bring the Relic back, I promise.”

  She reached for Lyre’s hand and squeezed.

  “Or we’ll die trying.”

  Glastonbury

  The tower perches still above

  A labyrinth concealed by grass and stone

  Here, the Pendragon once sought out his love.

  And now, the Relic of Air awaits its Seeker alone.

  * * *

  “We’re nearly there, Beautiful Beatrix.”

  Lyre’s smooth, deep voice spoke the words as clearly as if he were breathing them into his lover’s ear, and they floated through her mind like silk, caressing her from the inside.

  Yet the only actual sound that met Trix’s ears was the hard edge of the wind whipping around her head, throwing her wild red mane into a tangled disarray. Seated astride the Dragon shifter’s back with her legs draped over either side of his massive flying form, they soared over the English landscape towards the town of Glastonbury.

  As Lyre’s words worked their way inside her, Trix marvelled at the new sense that she’d gained from their bond. It was a gift, plain and simple. She could have full conversations with her lover without either of them opening their mouths. The intimacy between them had grown stronger, deeper, than any force that she could ever have imagined. A bond so extraordinary that she felt like nothing could ever break it down.

  “I hope you’re warm enough up there,” Lyre’s gentle voice added, no doubt noting her unusual silence. “I hate to think of you being uncomfortable.”

  Her hands moved to stroke his neck, his voice engulfing her entire body like a warm embrace that no amount of chill wind could break through. No. There could be no coldness while they were together.

  “I’m perfectly fine,” she replied, conveying the words telepathically as Lyre had done, her lips locked in a happy grin.

  A part of her was reluctant to tell him just how happy she really was, how perfect everything seemed. A few days earlier their worlds had been in utter turmoil, and euphoria now felt like a temporary dream. A fragile state of being filled with laughter, affection, and of course, incredible, mind-blowing, heart-pounding sex that made her extremities tingle for days on end. Her story had come to an impossibly perfect conclusion. No, not just perfect. Beyond perfect, even.

  Orgasmically delicious.

  But she knew as well as anyone that when life hits its highest point, there’s nowhere for it to go but down. And rock bottom was a long, long way below them. The collision, if it ever came, would hurt like a bloody bitch.

  Shaking off the thought, she scanned the green landscape below, taking in small, cheerful farmhouses, narrow laneways and cars meandering along winding roads. Between the view and the scent of moist grass wafting about her head, something in the air was helping her to fight off any negative thoughts. Enthralled shivers made their way through her body from head to toe, and it only took a moment for her to figure out why.

  Glastonbury Tor was near.

  Trix could feel the legendary tower’s presence, as though the unseen structure was calling her name. After a few minutes it would appear on the horizon, standing alone on the summit of a tall, broad hill, like a sentinel overlooking the land.

  “I can’t quite believe we’re about to see a place that might once have been the island of Avalon,” she told Lyre, breaking the brief silence between their minds. “It feels as though we’re flying into a myth.”

  “Indeed, and yet what we’re about to face is very real. Are you ready for what lies ahead, Seeker?” his smooth voice asked in return. Perhaps he’d been reading her thoughts.

  “I’ve come to realize that I’m never actually ready for anything.” Trix told him, a hand idly stroking his neck. “I had thought I was ready for you, and I was completely wrong. I was totally unprepared for what was going to happen between us, as much as I wanted it.”

  “As was I,” he told her. “A couple of idiots, weren’t we? At least I was, fighting off my feelings for you as I did.”

  “True. But your feelings won the battle, and now you’re mine, you poor thing.”

  A low, happy growl emerged from her mount’s throat, and Trix leaned forward, wrapping her arms about his immense neck, barely able to stretch them halfway around it. “If we’re idiots, then at least you’re my idiot,” she murmured against his scales, knowing that he couldn’t hear her. But it didn’t matter. She knew he understood.

  As the Dragon began a winding descent towards the small town of Glastonbury, Trix finally began to see why the tower atop the hill was something of a phenomenon. Still far below them, it stood tall and solitary on the highest point of the long, almond-shaped summit, and the imposing height gave the illusion that from its top, one could look out over all of England. But in spite of the tower’s intriguing nature, it was the hill itself that struck Trix as unique, even odd.

  “The sides of the hill…do you see them? They’re…stacked, like massive stairs,” Trix said, studying the slope from above. “Or like some sort of gigantic topographical map. It’s as though the hill was built by someone, rather than formed naturally.” The series of very tall layered steps spiralled around the hill’s perimeter, leading to its long, narrow summit. The whole thing reminded Trix of a stretched pyramid that had
long since been overgrown by lush grasses.

  “I suppose we’re seeing the interior walls of the legendary labyrinth,” Lyre’s voice responded as his Dragon’s eyes moved over the landscape below. “The tower perches still above a labyrinth concealed by grass and stone, the verse said. That must be it; the grass is a sort of outer coating, a mask for whatever lies beneath.”

  “Strange to think that anything is inside the hill; it looks so peaceful and undisturbed,” Trix replied. “Maybe the Relic is above ground after all, not underneath. The verse does start by mentioning the tower.”

  “It’s not likely, unfortunately,” Lyre told her. “Given Tryst’s warning about danger, I can’t imagine that we’ll be able to simply wander up and pluck the Relic from the tower’s outer stones.”

  It was true, of course. The sole female member of the Dragons’ Guild had mentioned that she had a bad feeling about their hunt. But then again, a bad feeling didn’t necessarily mean that disaster was about to befall them. Perhaps they’d get lucky and find what they were looking for without being discovered by hostile eyes.

  “The first Relic was embedded on the outside of the Syndicate’s tower,” Trix said. “Maybe there’s a pattern to the hiding spots.” But she bit her lip as she conveyed the words, recalling what her fellow Hunter Neko had been through before locating the first Relic. On more than one occasion her life had nearly been stolen away by a Forsaken called Umbra, a man who’d been willing to do anything to stop her, regardless of how sadistic.

  Trix swallowed hard, her mind reaching back to her own experience confronting a Forsaken on the streets of London. Like Umbra, the man named Farell had been a hollow-eyed monster, soulless and cruel. And if there were more like him, waiting for them…then, well, bollocks. If Tryst’s instincts were correct, they were on the verge of a very dangerous adventure.

  “I’m going to set us down in a field just outside of town,” Lyre told her, interrupting the string of daunting thoughts that paraded through her brain. “It wouldn’t do to freak out the tourists who are milling about the tower, even for a moment. We’re meant to be inconspicuous, after all.”

  The wandering humans would forget that they’d seen a Dragon almost as soon as he appeared, but he was right; it was best to stay out of sight for as long as possible. With rumours swirling around London of bodies being discovered with their necks ripped open, humans were becoming increasingly wary of anything out of the ordinary, their senses heightened.

  The glacial-scaled Dragon swept down to a field at the edge of a farm, his feet touching the earth with astonishing gentleness. As he dipped his head to the ground Trix leapt off, her eyes focusing for a moment on the strange structure on top of the peak in the distance.

  Even from hundreds of feet away, she could see the tall, arch-shaped doorway at the Tor’s base opening out to a similar door on the opposite side. Golden rays of late day sun poured through the opening, outlining the tiny shapes of the few tourists who were still wandering about.

  “Do you think we ought to find an inn or something, to stay the night?” Trix asked, still staring into the distance. Though the sun hadn’t yet set, the day was definitely beginning to drag to a close. It would be dark before long.

  “Yes, I was thinking that very thing,” Lyre told her when he’d transformed into his human form. Trix turned his way, looking him up and down as she always did when he came out of a shift. Even after spending days in bed with him, it never ceased to amaze her how alluring every inch of him was. The shock of dark hair framing gorgeous cheekbones and piercing blue eyes that turned just a little brighter when he looked at her. Shoulders so broad that she sometimes wondered how he made it through doorways. And that body of his, all muscle, hardness and raw sexuality. As she stared, the mere memory of his touch made her wet, desire flooding her system in a torrent of heat and the percussive rhythm of a heart that he’d taken over in the most wonderful way.

  She couldn’t help but think about the last time she’d seen him naked. It had only been a few hours, but she was craving him as if days had passed since then. He’d become her sustenance, a physical necessity. He filled her up in every conceivable way.

  As though reading her mind again, he swept an arm about her waist and drew her towards him, planting a soft, sweet kiss on her lips. When her arms draped around his neck in response he took her hint, his tongue pushing past her teeth to indulge in her taste. And for a moment Trix forgot where she was, consumed by need and simple, carnal want. It would have been easy—very easy—to strip naked and to make love in this place, regardless of any eyes that might spot them. In the moment it was impossible to care about anything but being with the man she adored.

  But at the end of the prolonged, delectable kiss that had apparently inspired a rush of blood to the impressively large bulge that had now formed in his jeans, it was Lyre who somehow found the strength to pull away.

  “If I were a very responsible Dragon shifter, I’d insist that we begin the hunt tonight, or even right now,” he told her, his eyes narrowing as they locked on hers. “But I want nothing more than to find that inn you mentioned so that we can finish what we just started.”

  “And if I were a very responsible Seeker, I’d insist on the same thing, I suppose,” Trix sighed into his mind. “But maybe we should delay, so we can find out a little about the Tower from the locals. Something that might tell us where to begin our search. At least, that’s my excuse.” She shot him a coy glance.

  “Asking questions is a good idea I suppose, so long as you do the talking. I don’t imagine we’ll find a lot of people fluent in sign language in Glastonbury.”

  “I’m more than happy to talk,” she told him out loud, drawing his eyes to her lips to read them. “You may have noticed by now that I’m a chatty girl.”

  “One benefit of being deaf is that no one ever seems chatty to me,” Lyre replied, grinning. “That said, I’d be happy to have you talk to me all day and night. Your voice in my head is music. I love it there.”

  “Well, it’s a relief to know that you don’t feel inclined to tell me to shut my piehole—even the telepathic kind. But even if you seem to like my stupid voice constantly streaming through your mind, I do want you to teach me some new signs.”

  “O?” he signed the letter for her, followed by “Y?”

  She understood; they’d been through the alphabet a few times and she was finally beginning to memorize each individual letter. Shrugging, she replied. “I want to know your language better, if only so that I can understand what the hell you’re talking about when you’re with your Guild of mad Dragons.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners as her lips turned up. Her mouth-watering lover was still staring at her with those sexy, expressive eyes, and damn it, her body was going to melt into a pool of Trix-scented liquid at his feet if he wasn’t careful.

  “God, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” she mouthed. “I couldn’t have designed a more delicious man in a million years.”

  “Delicious,” he replied telepathically, taking her by the hand to lay one, two, three kisses on her skin before giving her a gentle bite, “conjures the notion of eating. And associating you with eating makes my jeans go tight.”

  “Then I’ll have to loosen them for you as soon as possible,” she replied as she finally began to walk through the expanse of long, damp grass, her words moving between them as though following an invisible thread connecting their minds. “But for now I think I should change the subject so you don’t walk into the general population of Glastonbury with a massive hard-on.”

  “Good point,” Lyre said, adjusting the front of his jeans with one hand as he strode beside her.

  “Maybe your hard-on would take a wee nap if we talked business instead,” Trix said as she let out another sigh. “You know, Aegis told me that the tower was originally attached to a church on the island. There’s even a story that the Holy Grail was once stored inside. Of course, that’s probably just another Arthurian tale gone awry.”

 
; “Aegis might know a good deal more about the truth than most historians, actually,” the Dragon shifter’s voice told her. “He’s rather old, you know.”

  “Oh? How old?”

  “I’m not entirely sure. Most of us lose count after the first century or so. But he’s been around for at least a couple of hundred years, I think.”

  “Really? He doesn’t look a day over twenty-five. Of course, none of you Dragon shifters do, you lucky bastards,” Trix replied, eyeing him sideways as she navigated around a jagged looking shrub. It was true; Lyre looked young and yet somehow he exuded experience and wisdom. It was one of the things that had drawn her to him the first time she’d met him. He’d always given her the impression that he knew more than she did, and it was one of the sexiest things about him.

  A chuckle came from somewhere low and deep in his chest. “Well, to be fair, if we look young it’s because we do use a very expensive line of skin-care products.”

  “No doubt. I suppose you also have regular appointments at a Dragon spa where attractive young women paint your talons and massage your scales with scented oils.”

  “Pfft. The only woman I want massaging any part of me is currently walking next to me and will soon be naked and writhing on a strange bed in glorious ecstasy because my tongue is madly in love with her clitoris.”

  “Naughty, sexy beast,” Trix replied, laughing out loud at his dirty mind and at how easy, how natural it had become to communicate like this. Their silent chats created as intimate a bond as the feeling of their naked bodies holding one another, albeit quite a different one.

  “Lyre,” she said, her inner voice taking on a more serious tone. There was still a great deal to learn about her lover, and the more time she spent with him, the more she realized how little she knew. “How old are you? God, how do I not know that? We’ve…been intimate. We’ve sexually-intercoursed. Our private parts have kissed. Many times, in fact. Not to mention what you’ve managed between my legs with that gorgeous mouth of yours.”