Healing Fire Read online

  Healing Fire

  Sean Michael

  What will it take for a dragon prince to defy his father and fly on his own?

  Prince Jules, the least favorite of the Dragon King's children, lives simply, banished to his rooms and the amazing adventures found in his books. He has never left the palace or shifted into his dragon form…he's never done anything.

  Dragon shifter Lem is assigned to Jules as the prince's new bodyguard, and is determined to keep Jules safe from the Graithen, who killed the prince’s previous guardian. Lem grows to hate how the King hides Jules away, and longs to show him how to fly. His love for Jules also grows but it is forbidden, like so much in Jules' life.

  When the Graithen attack again, though, everything changes.

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement of the copyright of this work.

  HEALING FIRE

  Copyright © 2015 SEAN MICHAEL

  ISBN: 978-1-943576-18-0

  All Romance eBooks, LLC Palm Harbor, Florida 34684 www.allromanceebooks.com

  This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events, or locales is coincidental.

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever with out written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First All Romance eBooks publication: August 2015

  Chapter One

  Jules wandered into the common room of his little set of quarters. “Oh, Mabon. Mabon, this was the best book. Would you like to hear about it? There were ghosts and demons and a pirate ship.”

  “Of course, Prince J.” It was the closest he’d gotten Mabon to come to dropping the formality between them.

  He settled in Mabon’s lap without worry, opening the book to show the illustrations. Mabon had been with him since birth. It was natural as anything to cuddle in, let the huge old warrior surround him.

  Mabon asked him the occasional question, only seeming to get hung up over the pirates not being the villains of the story. “But pirates are bad, my prince.”

  “Not these. These are... Well, they are a bit naughty, but they’re not bad.”

  Mabon shook his head, big body shifting beneath Jules. “Pirates are bad. That is what a pirate is.”

  “Are dragons bad?” He privately thought his older brother, Wil, was bad. Wil pinched and teased and hit.

  “Of course not, my prince. Most dragons are good.”

  “But some are bad?”

  “I have heard of it, yes.” Mabon lowered his voice. “There are rumors of a ruler from the eastern edges...” Mabon didn’t say more, and Jules knew it was to avoid blasphemy.

  “Well, then, some pirates must be good.” Jules reached up, stroked Mabon’s cheeks. “And if they are not, you will protect me.”

  “Of course I will! Nothing will harm you, my prince. Not ever. And I will not believe in good pirates.”

  “All right, Mabon. As long as you believe in good me, it’s fine.”

  “Unless you tell me that you’re not good.” Mabon shook his head. “No, even then I would believe you are good.”

  “I love you, too, Mabon.”

  Mabon grunted, the bodyguard too aware of his place to risk offending anyone to admit to such a thing.

  Jules knew it was true, though. Mabon was utterly devoted to him. His best friend as well as his bodyguard, and the only one who came even close to understanding him. Jules snuggled right in, hummed happily.

  “Your father wishes you to attend the banquet tonight,” Mabon told him.

  “No. The others will go.” He didn’t like to leave his quarters. After spending two hundred years here, they were the only place he knew well.

  “He’ll yell.”

  “I know.” Jules could handle that. And Mabon would make sure it wasn’t more than that.

  “You are stubborn, my prince.”

  “No one wants me there, not really. Father simply wants my obedience.” And, while he didn’t mind, the longer he remained hidden away, the harder it was to leave the familiar rooms.

  “I’m going to lose my edge,” Mabon teased. “It’s easy to protect you here.”

  “You would never. You’re the most perfect defender in the history of time.”

  Mabon sat a little straighter, and Jules could feel the pride pouring off of him at the words.

  Jules was the luckiest dragon ever. Ever. Now if he could just find a way to keep anything from changing, he’d be golden.

  ***

  Lem moved through the morning exercises, giving respect to the rising sun and working his way through the warrior poses. He could feel his muscles rippling, warming beneath the early rays of light. He had another twenty poses to do before he had to report to the training salle.

  What a lovely, perfect, utterly boring morning.

  He’d been following the same routine for years. Decades. Even the simulations of dangerous situations had lost their luster. Still, it was his duty to serve, to protect, to be ready.

  The horn finally blew. He grabbed his vest and jogged to the main square to meet his teacher. The huge dragon landed in the center of the salle, massive and gorgeous, shimmering as he shifted to his human form.

  Master Ansalle was the oldest dragon Lem knew. Wise and strong. Lem hoped to be half the dragon Ansalle was one day. He bowed deeply, and his master responded, a wave of warmth surrounding him.

  “Are you ready for today’s training, Lem?”

  He nodded. “Yes, Master. I will meet any demand.”

  “You always do, Lem. Always.”

  It made him proud to have Ansalle say so. It made the loneliness of his training more bearable.

  An unfamiliar sound filled the air, buzzing and sharp, like a swarm of bees. Lem was immediately on alert, moving to protect Ansalle, searching for the source of the sound. His heart beat a rapid tattoo.

  Ansalle rumbled softly, the sound half curiosity, half worry.

  “Back to the armory, Master.” Lem searched the sky, still not seeing the source of the noise.

  “This is not a good thing, lad. Sound the alarm. Something is wrong.”

  “Once you are safe, Master.” He was trained to protect. He could not abandon Ansalle now. He refused to. Ansalle was his to defend, the older dragon long past his prime.

  Lem moved with Ansalle, still searching for the threat that accompanied the noise that grew louder with each passing second. He would be much happier once he got his master safely within the walls of the armory.

  The hidden dragons appeared in a wave, the spell of invisibility broken by the castle defenses. The emerald scales proved the interlopers to be Graithen, long-time enemies from the Far East.

  Ansalle called to him. “Lem! The alarm!”

  He shoved Ansalle toward the door of the armory as hard as he could, then leapt for the great bell. Jumping for the rope, he swung, the warning ringing out and out. The castle was huge and covered much territory, but he knew all would hear the bell.

  The dragons turned to him, as one, eyes burning, claws dripping venom.

  Lem stayed on the bell’s rope, making it ring until the last possible moment. Then he shifted mid-air, unfurling his wings and shooting straight up, narrowly missing crashing into the great bell itself.

  Several of his attackers were not so lucky. Some crashed into the ground, and several knocked themselves out on the bell as they attempted to give Lem chase. His bronze and gold scales sparkled in the sun, acting as mirrors, blinding and confusing his enemies.

  He zigged and zagged, moving up into the sky, then shooting toward the ground, all the time leading the attackers away from the keep.


  The entire palace was alive with panic and magic, and Lem roared his fury as a line of fiery heat caught his hip. Turning sharply, he swung out, catching his attacker across the wing, tearing it and sending the dragon spiraling to the ground.

  Hissing, he stroked strongly, continuing to lead the stragglers who were after him toward the mountains. He knew the mountains, knew he could lead them on a merry chase there while others defended from the rear.

  Sure enough, reinforcements came in a wave, pouring from the palace, dragon after dragon filling the air and crying out in rage at the attack. Lem banked, driving the half-dozen dragons following him back toward those reinforcements.

  When he was sure the threat would be neutralized, that they far outnumbered the Graithen, he took a breath, the gash in his side burning through him. It was like he was on fire, like he’d caught an arrow that was burning still. A glance at his side assured him there was no actual flame.

  He tried to return to the castle, but his wings gave out. It was all he could do to keep from plummeting to the ground. As it was, he hit it hard, and the world went black.

  ***

  “Mabon? Mabon, is that you?” Jules fluttered, worried so deep that it made him cold.

  Something was going on, and he’d felt the strangest ache in the middle of his palms before the alarms began to ring. Then his door had been locked, trapping him. There were three rooms, the first with the door to the rest of the castle, then a second, larger room, with his small bedroom in the back. Jules wandered from one to the next, keeping away from the windows to the courtyard.

  “Mabon, I’m...” Frightened. He was frightened. He wasn’t a youngling, but he was the youngest of the royals and different, so very different. Not a warrior.

  His door burst open, Mabon roaring his name. “Jules!”

  “Mabon?”

  It wasn’t Mabon he saw, though. No, there were five of them, green lizardmen caught in their magic. Their fangs dripped with what he was sure were magic poisons, and they had menace in their eyes.

  “Mabon!” He screamed for his bodyguard, his friend, catching sight of Mabon’s large, muscled body beyond the interlopers.

  “My prince!” Mabon shouted his name, leaping between him and the green ones.

  Jules’ hands burned, aching all the way down into his wrists, the birthmarks on them beginning to throb.

  “He’s the one, Captain. That one. He wears the mark.”

  The strange dragons carried long, curved blades that dripped a viscous mossy-looking substance. Jules froze, eyes wide, fear making his heart beat as if it wanted out of his chest.

  Mabon pressed him back, hand connecting with his chest. “Get under the bed, my prince.” A long, wicked blade appeared in Mabon’s hands, threatening the attackers.

  Jules nodded, but he only backed up as much as Mabon had pushed. His legs wouldn’t let him move any farther. He could feel his whole body beginning to vibrate, the ache in his palms becoming a pain.

  The five lizards moved forward and Mabon was like a whirlwind, knife slashing, this loud, angry noise coming from him. For a long moment, Jules thought Mabon would take them all down, but then one slashed at Mabon, cutting his guardian

  Jules screamed. “Leave him alone!” That was his best friend!

  Mabon shoved his attacker hard, sending him into two of his compatriots. All three went down. Mabon turned to him, hissing. “Go!”

  But Jules did not. “Don’t hurt him!” Jules slapped one of the interlopers, and they both screamed as fire shot up his arm.

  “Jules! Save yourself.” Mabon roared and slammed the screamer in the face, sending him onto his ass.

  The palace guards appeared at his door. “Prince! You must come!”

  “But Mabon...” Jules would not leave his only friend to face their attackers alone.

  “Go with them!” Mabon shoved him toward the palace guard and turned again, slamming his knife into the face of one of the lizards.

  As the guard’s hand wrapped around his arm, pulling him from the room, Jules saw one of the swords the lizards carried push into Mabon’s belly. He could see the surprise and pain on Mabon’s face.

  “No!” Jules ran back into the room, screaming in pure fury. Flames poured from his hands, from his mouth, from his very eyes.

  Catching on fire, the attackers screamed.

  “Mabon!” Jules shouted, the world burning, so hot, so bright.

  Mabon was on his knees, clutching his belly. Looking up, he reached for Jules. “My prince.”

  “Mabon.”

  Please, please. Stay. Stay with me.

  “Jules.” Mabon’s gaze met his. “You are safe.”

  “I am. Stay. You can’t go. I need you. Promise me.” Jules could not bear it if Mabon died because of him.

  “You are my prince.” Mabon took one shuddering breath after another.

  “Prince Jules, you must come with us.” One of the guards tugged at him.

  Shaking his head, Jules refused to go. “I won’t leave him.”

  “Sire, you need medical care. The flames.”

  “I cannot leave him.” Fiery tears trailed down his cheeks. The flames had not hurt him, not as much as the bleeding gash in Mabon’s belly did.

  “Go,” whispered Mabon. “Save yourself. Please.”

  “Come with me. I command it. You must live and stay with me.” Jules never gave orders, but for this, he would.

  “It... it pains me... to... disobey... my...”

  “Oh, Mabon. My own. My friend. Please.” He was not above begging.

  “Prince Jules!”

  He was pulled away, out of the burning room, away from Mabon. His skin tore as he fought the guard, his entire body feeling like it was a flame. He managed to get free long enough to return to Mabon’s side.

  “I love you, my prince.” Mabon touched his cheek, eyes closing. Then the big body toppled over.

  It was as if the world winked out of existence, as if a million lights disappeared.

  Mabon was dead.

  The guards pulled Jules out of his rooms, dragging him back down the hall. He closed his eyes and let himself go limp.

  Mabon was dead.

  For him.

  Chapter Two

  Lem felt pain.

  He almost cheered. He’d thought he was dead, but pain meant he was alive. Was the castle still under attack? Maybe they still needed him. He wasn’t sure what was wrong, why he hurt, but he would fight if he could. He forced his eyes open.

  The physicians walked quietly, long silvery hair down, black armbands marking the ones they had lost.

  Oh. He was in the hospital. The attack was over. They had won, right? Surely, they had.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

  A little female with a hawk-like face and glittering eyes touched his arm. “Your voice will return. You have beaten the poison, but it must work its way out of your body.”

  Poison? He had been poisoned?

  The memory flashed back into his mind of being slashed by one of the Graithen. His side throbbed painfully at the memory.

  “Do you have any pain, sir?”

  He answered automatically, “No.” Guardians did not have pain. No pain. No fear. No weakness.

  She tsked at him. “I know that’s the party line, but you’re in the infirmary. You must be honest about what your body needs while you’re here. So you can heal properly.”

  “It’s not that bad,” he told her, honestly. He ached all over, and his head throbbed, but his side only hurt when he thought about what had happened. They had been attacked. He had tried to lead the Graithen away. And he had rung the bell, leaving his master…

  He managed a single word, though there was barely any sound to it, more a rough noise like a plane on wood. “Anselle?” Had he saved his Master?

  She shrugged, but her expression was sympathetic, kind. “He fights the venom. He is older.”

  Lem struggled to sit up, regret that he’d not prot
ected his Master better more painful than any wound he could be made to suffer through. “I must see him.”

  She smiled at him. “You found your voice, I see.”

  “Yes.” He’d had to. For his Master.

  He swung his legs over the side of the bed. The female took a step back, not stopping him, but not helping. His legs trembled, shook violently, but he held himself up.

  “Where?” he asked, barking the word out as his body wanted to collapse. He wouldn’t let it, though.

  “Follow me.” She led him along a busy hallway to a quiet room, where Anselle lay on a cot, totally grey and still. Oh, that was not good. “No one has ever survived the Graithen poisons,” the nurse told him quietly. “Until you.”

  Lem stepped into the room to stand at Anselle’s bedside. “Anselle? Master?”

  The old dragon’s eyes opened, stared at him. “My boy.” The deep, cracked sound of his master’s voice was soothing, even though his master was clearly weak, dying.

  The nurse pushed a chair against the back of his legs. Lem sat hard, grateful he no longer had to keep himself upright.

  “I’m so sorry, Master. I tried to keep you safe.”

  “We lost many, lad. Mabon. Killi. There would have been more if you had not sounded the alarm.”

  “Mabon and Killi were with the royals!” Had they lost any of their charges? Or was that just him?

  “They came after Prince Jules.” The captain of the guard appeared in the doorway, looking grave. “And there was an incident with the royals.”

  “Is the prince okay?” Lem asked. Mabon was dead. Please let it not have been for nothing.

  “He’s nonresponsive. He hasn’t woken since Mabon died.”

  “That’s awful.” Lem hung his head, feeling the weight of this injury as deeply as his Master’s. He should have been quicker to the bell. He should have been stronger. He should have saved them both.

  “It is, but he will recover.” The captain looked so sure.

  Lem was not as sure that Anselle would get better. He was, in fact, very doubtful.

  “May I sit with Anselle?” the captain asked. “I don’t wish him to be alone.”