going to make it. The girls were going to be safe. Thanking the Heavens above, he poured all his energy into his run. Counting the yards, he listened to his brethren keeping the sniper at bay and once again couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be dragon.
Looking over his shoulder one more time, he saw that Declan had moved out of the bunker with his kate and was laying on the ground, while Rory was standing above him firing a smaller Enfield. Both were taking their cues from Lennox and Pearce, who were less than a hundred yards from the reaper.
Turning back to the front, a flash in the corner of his eye drew his attention just as the thud of a grenade hitting the ground mere inches from his feet had him spinning on one foot. His incredible speed coupled with his size and the extra weight of his passengers made it impossible for him to stop.
Assuming the explosive had a five second fuse, Kellan ran faster than he ever had in his life. He commanded his dragon to stop healing and shove all his magic into getting the Guardsman and the little girls to safety.
Three...two...o...
He wasn’t fast enough. The blast from the grenade threw him forward. The girls were forced from his arms and as they flew through the air he heard the tell-tale sound of ‘Pfft’ Pfft’ Pfft’. Silver shrapnel shredded his face and hands.
His world slowed. He could hear himself screaming. Hear his brethren shouting his name. He pulled at the sand, dragging himself towards the girls as their lifeless bodies fell to the ground. Reaching the smallest of them, both man and dragon roared as the life drained from her big brown eyes.
Uncaring of the danger around him, Kellan got to his knees and carefully lifted the child into his arms. Holding her to his chest, he walked on his knees to where the other girls lay side-by-side, their dead eyes staring back at him.
Laying down beside them, he curled himself around all three tiny bodies and simply wept. It was the first time in over a hundred years that tears had wet his cheeks. Pain unlike anything he’d ever felt wracked his already wounded and failing body. His heart slowed, struggling to beat against the crushing anguish of such useless loss.
His soul grew dark and empty. The dragon within pushed against the confines of Kellan’s mind, needing to tear free, demanding to destroy the ones responsible for stealing the precious lives from ones so small and innocent.
Lost in his anguish, the Guardsman heard his brethren trying to reach him. Heard Rory give the orders for Lennox and Pearce to bomb the area where the sniper still lay with a false confidence that he’d remained hidden while killing the children. He heard Declan take off after the combatant who’d thrown the grenade. Knew the moment Dec’s hand had closed around the man’s neck and felt an unrivaled satisfaction when he heard the unmistakable crack of the bones in the bastard’s neck. Kellan’s only regret was that he hadn’t been the one to kill him.
Ignoring his brethren’s screams to move, to get up, to do anything but remain where he was, like a sitting duck, trying to get himself killed. Kellan growled when large, gloved hands grabbed at his shoulders. Acting on pure instinct fueled by a fiery fury, the guardsman lashed out, grabbed his oldest and best friend by the throat, and kicked his feet out from under him. Rory threw his hands in front of himself as a sign of surrender while speaking directly into Kellan’s rage filled mind.
“Kell...let go...It’s...me.”
Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, Kellan knew he didn’t want to hurt his friend; knew he needed to remove his hand from Rory’s throat, but his wrath and that of his beast’s overrode all else. It consumed them.
“Kell.” Rory struggled to speak, his voice going high from lack of oxygen.
“Kellan...” The voice was now pleading with a pitch so much softer...smaller...that he began to doubt it was his longtime friend speaking.
More hands
Looking over his shoulder one more time, he saw that Declan had moved out of the bunker with his kate and was laying on the ground, while Rory was standing above him firing a smaller Enfield. Both were taking their cues from Lennox and Pearce, who were less than a hundred yards from the reaper.
Turning back to the front, a flash in the corner of his eye drew his attention just as the thud of a grenade hitting the ground mere inches from his feet had him spinning on one foot. His incredible speed coupled with his size and the extra weight of his passengers made it impossible for him to stop.
Assuming the explosive had a five second fuse, Kellan ran faster than he ever had in his life. He commanded his dragon to stop healing and shove all his magic into getting the Guardsman and the little girls to safety.
Three...two...o...
He wasn’t fast enough. The blast from the grenade threw him forward. The girls were forced from his arms and as they flew through the air he heard the tell-tale sound of ‘Pfft’ Pfft’ Pfft’. Silver shrapnel shredded his face and hands.
His world slowed. He could hear himself screaming. Hear his brethren shouting his name. He pulled at the sand, dragging himself towards the girls as their lifeless bodies fell to the ground. Reaching the smallest of them, both man and dragon roared as the life drained from her big brown eyes.
Uncaring of the danger around him, Kellan got to his knees and carefully lifted the child into his arms. Holding her to his chest, he walked on his knees to where the other girls lay side-by-side, their dead eyes staring back at him.
Laying down beside them, he curled himself around all three tiny bodies and simply wept. It was the first time in over a hundred years that tears had wet his cheeks. Pain unlike anything he’d ever felt wracked his already wounded and failing body. His heart slowed, struggling to beat against the crushing anguish of such useless loss.
His soul grew dark and empty. The dragon within pushed against the confines of Kellan’s mind, needing to tear free, demanding to destroy the ones responsible for stealing the precious lives from ones so small and innocent.
Lost in his anguish, the Guardsman heard his brethren trying to reach him. Heard Rory give the orders for Lennox and Pearce to bomb the area where the sniper still lay with a false confidence that he’d remained hidden while killing the children. He heard Declan take off after the combatant who’d thrown the grenade. Knew the moment Dec’s hand had closed around the man’s neck and felt an unrivaled satisfaction when he heard the unmistakable crack of the bones in the bastard’s neck. Kellan’s only regret was that he hadn’t been the one to kill him.
Ignoring his brethren’s screams to move, to get up, to do anything but remain where he was, like a sitting duck, trying to get himself killed. Kellan growled when large, gloved hands grabbed at his shoulders. Acting on pure instinct fueled by a fiery fury, the guardsman lashed out, grabbed his oldest and best friend by the throat, and kicked his feet out from under him. Rory threw his hands in front of himself as a sign of surrender while speaking directly into Kellan’s rage filled mind.
“Kell...let go...It’s...me.”
Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, Kellan knew he didn’t want to hurt his friend; knew he needed to remove his hand from Rory’s throat, but his wrath and that of his beast’s overrode all else. It consumed them.
“Kell.” Rory struggled to speak, his voice going high from lack of oxygen.
“Kellan...” The voice was now pleading with a pitch so much softer...smaller...that he began to doubt it was his longtime friend speaking.
More hands
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