Alpha Protector Dragon (Shifters of the Aegis) Read online

  Alpha Protector Dragon

  Shifters of the Aegis 2

  A Wellspring Chronicles Tale

  Tabitha St. George

  Leela Ash

  Copyright ©2019 by Tabitha St. George & Leela Ash. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic of mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1.

  Chapter 2.

  Chapter 3.

  Chapter 4.

  Chapter 5.

  Chapter 6.

  Chapter 7.

  Chapter 8.

  Chapter 9.

  Chapter 10.

  Chapter 11.

  Chapter 12.

  Chapter 13.

  Chapter 14.

  Chapter 15.

  Chapter 16.

  Chapter 17.

  Chapter 18.

  Chapter 19.

  Chapter 20.

  Burning Falls Shifters Preview

  Chapter 1.

  Casey Briggs waited. He sat on stone, the backbone of Mother Earth, so that she might keep him strong. Dressed in her colors – black shirt, black pants, black tie – he summoned the mantle of her eternal patience, bidding it to settle his agitated heart. Beneath those clothes, hidden to human eyes but not those of the spirits, tattoos covered his arms. Proclaiming his ancestry and his nature in swirling black patterns that would last forever. Or at least as long as his body. Above him, Father Sun burned down, fierce in the desert morning. The shrill cry of a hawk echoed through the still air.

  A good omen. The spirits guarded him in this treacherous time.

  And so, he waited.

  Mirages writhed and twisted at the horizon. From those shimmering lights, a figure emerged. A man, trudging slowly down the remains of an old road. Nearer he came, growing larger, more imposing, with each step.

  Casey waited. Today was a momentous day, and the first of its great challenges approached. He would not succumb to eagerness or impatience like some Shifter child.

  At last, the stranger stood before him. He was an intimidating man, with short-cropped blonde hair and a scattering of scars. His spirit animal, a great white Dragon, loomed large, its battered maw crisscrossed with scars.

  Casey wasn’t daunted. His own spirit might be smaller, a lithe black Dragon with the curving horns that marked his Flight. But he knew he was the equal of any Shifter, and today, the spirits blessed him.

  The stranger nodded pleasantly. “You must be Casey Briggs, from the Snow Flight.”

  “Flight of the Snows,” he corrected him.

  “Right. Finn Donnelly, First Flight.”

  The arrogance of that name was a slap that couldn’t be ignored. “You are from Those Who Have Forgotten Themselves.”

  Donnelly’s expression didn’t change – though the icy scales of his Dragon suddenly blazed with a brilliant azure light. Anger. Good. Casey felt a surge of adrenaline as his own Dragon rose to that challenge and unfurled its great wings.

  Yet, to give him credit, the white Dragon’s words remained calm. “Is that what you call us? Let’s stick to ‘First Flight’, okay? Little shorter than ‘Flight of Those Who Can’t Even Remember Why They’re Here.’”

  “Perhaps, ‘The Forgetful Flight’?”

  In the Spirit World, two Dragons locked eyes. The white rumbled its disapproval, a deep, bone-shaking growl. The black hissed back, its sinewy tail whipping from side to side. Casey felt its power sing through his blood, calling him to battle.

  Until the big man shrugged. “Sure. What the hell. I’ve been called a lot worse.”

  The first spark of grudging respect lit in Casey’s heart. A humble warrior was a dangerous opponent. One who could not be tricked into a foolish charge.

  Calm, he ordered his Dragon. Let us hear what this outsider wishes to say.

  “Why have you requested this meeting?”

  Donnelly gazed out at the vast spread of emptiness that surrounded them. “Before I answer, can I ask one thing? Why did we have to meet at a rock in the middle of nowhere rather than, say, Starbucks?”

  And just like that, irritation roiled the calm waters of Casey’s soul. “Do you not know this ‘rock’?”

  The other Dragon scratched his nose. “Is it, uh, granite? Or something like that?”

  “This ‘rock’,” he snapped, “is the Place of Meeting Outsiders. It is here that, in ages past, the Peoples of this land welcomed our Flight. When the Sand, Big River, and Sage Packs sought peace among themselves, they came here, and they bound their Packs by blood and marriage. This is a sacred place! There is no more auspicious site for a meeting!”

  “Okay, well, I’m not from around here and I didn’t know that,” said the Forgetful idiot. “Look, I’m not trying to talk smack about your rock. I’m just saying that it’s hot and I could really go for an iced latte right now. And Starbucks’ seats are more comfortable,” he added, as he swept a rock out from under himself.

  How typical! Everything came down to indulgence and luxury for Those Who Have Forgotten Themselves. Were they even Dragons any longer – or just big, greedy lizards? “Again, I ask you,” Casey said through gritted teeth, “why did you wish to speak to me?”

  “Because my Flight has forgotten something,” the big man said with a wide, guileless smile. One that made it hard to hold a grudge – even for a member of the proud Flight of the Snows. “We’re hoping you guys still remember it. You were at Fairburn’s meeting, right?”

  Rex Fairburn. Casey’s lip twitched with disgust. The resorts that Bear built devoured the land and the silence with a hunger greater than any fallen Dragon’s. When Fairburn put out a call, asking all the Shifters of the Southwest to come hear of a new ‘danger’, Miles Kennedy, the Alpha of the Flight of the Snows, ignored him. “He is a destroyer of tradition,” he told his brothers of the Flight. “What threatens him does not threaten us.”

  Despite that, Casey had gone. The Bear was as blind and stupid as they come, yet no one could accuse him of failing his duties. He protected his peopl
e and his town with honor. That duty, that faithfulness, earned him the right of a hearing.

  And what a hearing it was! The words spoken still burned their way through Casey’s dreams. Oh, not Fairburn’s worries about some new enemies, the ‘Fangs of Apophis’. The Dragon neither knew nor cared about them. New enemies, old enemies… it was all the same. Those who remained vigilant didn’t need to worry.

  No, let the other Shifters fret about these Fangs. What had shaken Casey to the bottom of his soul was Finn Donnelly’s announcement.

  Wellsprings had returned. Founts of magic, they faded in ages past, leaving the world dull and mundane. Abandoning their protectors, the Dragons, to empty, meaningless existence. Now, the Wellsprings woke. Once more, Dragons were summoned to their most ancient duty: to protect the sacred waters that breathed life and wonder into the world. With magic’s return, the Rite of Claiming was reborn. No longer would his Kind drift through the ages, alone. Fate’s web grew strong again. Its touch, subtle and eternal, drew Dragons to their true Mates.

  News like that should have sent Casey flying to the heavens, roaring his joy. Yet it was tempered with a bitter, terrible bile.

  Fate had delivered the Wellsprings into the talons of Those Who Have Forgotten Themselves. They, not the Flight of the Snows, took up the most sacred duties. This Forgetful fool, Donnelly, who sat before him, pining for Starbucks? He had a Mate! That unworthy buffoon had somehow blundered through the Rite of Claiming and was bound to a woman in a sacred way that he, Casey Briggs, could only dream of.

  The shame of that, the unfairness, drove him mad.

  “So… the meeting?” Donnelly prodded. “Yes? No?”

  That nudge yanked Casey out of his brooding, and he glowered at the cheery Dragon. “Yes. I went to the meeting.”

  “Good. So, you know about the Fangs. Well, we’ve been investigating this, and Fairburn found out that the Fangs are trying to summon some big, bad, demonic thing into this world.”

  Casey shrugged. Sounded about par for villains. They always hoped that spirits would just give them the power they were too lazy to build on their own.

  “Does the name Nemagorix mean anything to you?”

  At that, though, he straightened. “Yes. The Destroyer of Worlds. A creature from the spirit realms that is forever seeking to claw its way into this one.”

  “Awesome!” The outsider’s smile blazed incandescent. “Score one for the smart Dragons! What can you tell me about Nemagorix?”

  Like a poisonous serpent, worry crept into Casey’s heart. No one could truly draw the Black Worm back into this world, could they? Especially not some band of outsiders. “Nemagorix is a great spirit. He has destroyed this world three times.”

  “Sorry?” Donnelly squinted at him. “If the world’s been destroyed, why is it still here?”

  “It isn’t. This is a different world.”

  “Oh. So, when you say the world was destroyed, you mean bad stuff happened.”

  “No,” Casey snapped as the tip of his Dragon’s tail began to twitch with irritation. “I mean that the world died and a new one was born.”

  An important distinction – which the Forgetful One immediately waved off. “Sure. Let’s not get bogged down over words. We both agreed this thing is bad. Apocalyptically bad. How did you guys stop him in the past?”

  “We didn’t. Nemagorix has not entered the world since we arrived. Only the People have faced him.”

  “Native tribes? Okay, how did they defeat him?”

  Was this man not listening? “They didn’t. He destroyed the world and when it shattered, he fell through the shards, back into the spirit realms.”

  “Huh,” Donnelly said. “Well, I’m officially vetoing that plan for dealing with him.”

  “Once Nemagorix enters this world, all is lost. The only hope is to keep him at bay. Deny him a doorway.”

  “That’s a better plan. How do we do that?”

  “Er, prevent people from summoning him?”

  “I kind of assumed that.” A note of dry annoyance entered the Forgetful Dragon’s voice. “Any specific advice you can offer? Like who summons him… how… where?”

  “No. I can speak to my Flight, however. Some delve into history more than I do. They may be able to give insight.”

  “Thank you.” The other man, of course, assumed they’d share that insight with Those Who Have Forgotten Themselves. Casey wasn’t sure that was a good idea. “One last thing: have you heard of an Aye… uh, Ee-jee… No, dammit, I’m screwing this up. Hang on.”

  From his wallet, he pulled out a scrap of paper. One word was written on it, in a woman’s delicate handwriting.

  Aegis.

  “Aegis,” Casey replied.

  “Ee-jiss.” Donnelly muttered that a couple of times, committing the sound to his (limited) memory. “Do you know what the Aegis is?”

  “No.”

  Immediately, his blue eyes narrowed with suspicion. “If you don’t know what it is, how can you know how it’s pronounced?”

  “Because it’s a Greek word. It means ‘shield’. Why do you ask about it?”

  “Nemagorix says that the Aegis needs to be destroyed before he can enter this world.”

  A critical secret – tossed out casually, as if it was of no worth. Casey fought to keep his shock off his face. That was the path his Flight should investigate. Surely, the People who made this Aegis would remember it.

  Donnelly continued to frown, tapping a finger against his lips. “Why would a Native spirit use a Greek word?”

  “For the same reason it calls itself Nemagorix. That’s not a Native name either.” As the Forgetful man’s confusion deepened, Casey shook his head. “Nemagorix is a spirit. It’s not ‘of’ this world or any of the world’s people. It uses words it thinks mortals will understand.”

  “Then the person that spoke to it was smarter than me!” A fact that did not surprise Casey.

  Words ceased, leaving nothing but the mutterings of Brother Wind. Each Dragon sat, lost in his own thoughts, until Donnelly stretched. “Well, thank you. I’ve learned a lot. Is there any information or help I can give your Flight?”

  Oh yes, there was.

  How?!? How did you find your Mate? Tell me everything about the Rite of Claiming! What does it feel like when your soul finds what it lost, the spirit that will make you whole again?

  Not one of those questions passed his lips. Inconceivable that he should abase himself, show weakness, before a member of that arrogant ‘First’ Flight.

  “No. Thank you,” was all he said.

  “Well, if you find out anything about Nemagorix or this Aegis, please let me know. We’ve had our differences in the past, but I think we can agree that neither of our Flights wants to see the world destroyed.”

  Casey made a noncommittal grunt. The Flight of the Snows didn’t need Forgetful’s ‘help’ to protect their lands.

  Donnelly rose stiffly to his feet, brushing sand and gravel from his jeans. “I didn’t see your car. Can I offer you a lift back to town?”

  “No.” As if a Dragon, a Prince of the Air, needed cars! “I am not finished here.”

  The outsider scanned the land about them. No doubt, he saw nothing except emptiness. “What needs doing? Can I lend a hand?”

  “No.” The very thought was amusing. “I need to thank the spirits of this stone for helping us hold a productive conversation. I should also honor the memories of those who’ve gone before us.”

  Of course, He Who Had Forgotten Himself didn’t understand. “Sure. Uh, I’ll leave you to settle up with your rock then. I’m gonna head back and get something cool to drink.”

  With that, he left, stomping away like some wingless animal. Agitation and confusion departed with him. Casey sighed with relief as peace settled over him once more.

  The outsider had given him a great deal to think about. There was much to do.

  And his Flight, not some ‘First’ Flight, would do it.

  First, though
, the day’s second task awaited. One of far greater importance than the words of a strange Dragon.

  Chapter 2.

  Any lost tourist who blundered into Ringo’s Spread immediately turned tail and fled back to the safety of Route 491. Honestly, the place looked like the Trailer Park from Hell. Three dozen decrepit single-wides lay scattered about. Scores of dusty motorcycles and junked cars littered the scrub. Music – usually heavy metal – wafted through the air at all hours while a crowd of leather-clad men and women lounged, drinking beers.

  To any civilized person, the whole place screamed ‘DANGER!’ Whoever those people were, whether drug dealers, smugglers, or plain old criminals, they were clearly up to no good.

  But Lily King wasn’t a civilized person. When she looked at Ringo’s, she saw home. The Den of the Sand Pack, one of the great Wolf Packs of the Four Corners region.

  She strode through a sea of familiar faces. Bone-Dog, Deadbeat, the White-Tail sisters. Even Ghost, shaded by a huge umbrella, glanced up from her computer and waved. The sight of her hunched over in her wheelchair, typing furiously, brought a grin to Lily’s face. The girl was one of her favorite Packmates. Once, some lone Wolf had called her a ‘gimp’ and said she ought to be ‘put out of her misery.’ “What good is a Wolf that can’t run?” he laughed.

  Well, they’d made him run, driving him into the desert with bared fangs. Maybe Ghost wasn’t like other Wolves. She ran through virtual fields and hunted electronic prey. But she was still a Wolf and the Sand Pack honored her. And that lone Wolf? He never showed his tail in these lands again.

  “Hey, Lily! What’s up?” Ghost called.

  “No idea. Dad wants to see me.” She paused, scooting under the edge of the other woman’s shade. The Old Man had told her to come ‘right away’… but it was good to make him wait a bit. Remind him that he might be an Alpha of this Pack, but his authority had limits. She was his equal, not his ‘little girl.’