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Lukos Heat
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Title Page
Book Details
Lukos Heat
About the Author
Lukos Heat
Heart of Fire
MEGAN DERR
Najlah is on the hunt for the traitorous coward who attempted to assassinate the king and nearly killed Najlah's brother in the process. But the hunt has taken his team deep into the Shide, the treacherous, freezing mountains controlled by the mysterious Lukos, feral wolf shifters who do not tolerate trespassers.
When the Lukos come upon them, Najlah is reluctantly intrigued. The Lukos, especially the one called Barkus, are nothing like the soft humans he spends most of his time around. They thrive in the brutal cold the way he thrives in volcanic fire. For the first time, it feels like Najlah may have found someone who can equal the fierceness of dragons, and see them as more than demons.
But if he hopes to explore the bond forming with the Lukos, he must first survive the enemy—and the Shide.
Book Details
Lukos Heat
Heart of Fire 1
By Megan Derr
Published by Less Than Three Press LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.
Edited by Samantha M. Derr
Cover designed by Julie Wright
Lesserkeystudios.com
This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.
Second Edition October 2014
First Edition published by Storm Moon Press LLC 2013
Copyright © 2014 by Megan Derr
Printed in the United States of America
Digital ISBN 9781620044438
Lukos Heat
Najlah grumbled and shifted restlessly on the campfire until he found a more comfortable position, thinking longingly of his homeland, Tahjil. He hated Restuel's winters. It did not seem fair that the cold was so much worse in the mountains that formed the northern border. He had thought the city wretchedly cold. The mountains were unbearable, like he had died and gone to the deepest levels of Eternal Torment.
Back home, it was all hot sand, hot sun, hot stones. Only natives could endure the brutal heat. When foreigners had begun arriving in droves, the dragons had struggled to keep the idiots from getting themselves killed.
He shifted again, hissing his discontent. The men closest to the fire regarded him sympathetically, and a couple built the fire up higher for him. Najlah thanked them with a soft rumble. To distract himself, he flicked his tongue out, tasting the air, but came away with nothing more than wintry forest, fire, and his companions, the cat and bird shifters that comprised their small unit of the Restuel Royal Shifter Corps.
It was frustrating to be so close to their goal only to be thwarted by the mass and might of the Shide Mountains. They had hoped to catch Kay sooner, but he had proven to be slicker than a brown scale bitch on the prowl.
Najlah tasted the air again—and jerked his head up with a spitting growl, alerting the others, sending embers and sparks flying into the air and out across the snow. Uncoiling his sinuous body, Najlah flexed his claws and sought for stable footing in the snowy ground. His black scales glistened wetly where they were struck by moonlight and flickering flames. Spikes sprang up down the length of his spine to the tip of his tail, drops of poison gleaming at their ends.
He growled loudly, baring his teeth as seven figures came out of the shadows, their scent the most feral thing he'd caught since leaving home. It was similar to dog, but sharper, untamed, with the bitter tang that always accompanied shifters. They also carried the smell of predators: the hot bite of blood and lust for the hunt. Najlah's battle brothers were by no means soft, but they did not compare to these interlopers. Similar to dog and dwelling in the Shide Mountains… these could only be the wolves he'd heard about.
Najlah growled again and dug his claws into the snow, firming his protective stance, ready to attack on a moment. His companions might not have been the equal of these wolves, but to Najlah they would be little more than sand sprites. He was intrigued enough to let them live for the moment, but if they so much as twitched wrong he would happily break their bones, drink their blood, and feast on their flesh. It would warm him better than conversation.
The wolves growled back at him, hackles rising, but Najlah held his ground. They were large, reaching as high as his brothers' hips, and obviously built to thrive in the Shide, but Najlah doubted they knew how to fight a dragon. The foremost of them, a wolf of pure black with eyes the same silver-gold as the moon, stepped forward and barked, then let his tongue loll.
Unimpressed, Najlah turned to Fayth, the captain and his brother-in-law, for orders. "Stand down," Fayth said, motioning to Najlah and the others before turning to the wolves. "You're slow, Lukos. I expected you to find us hours ago."
The lead wolf barked again, and the air grew thick with the tang of wild magic as the Lukos began to shift into their human forms.
Najlah huffed and began his own shift. He did not particularly care if everyone thought him rude if he did not shift, but he would not reflect poorly on his battle brothers. Not that shifting really made much difference in the end. Unlike most shifters, dragons did not have a completely human-looking form. Such a fragile form would get them killed in Tahjil.
Shifted, he stood about as tall as most of his brothers, shorter than the towering Fayth. He was slender, but well-muscled, and his skin was as black as the scales that still covered the majority of his body. His head was smooth, jaw shaped to accommodate his fangs. Even in his human-like form he could not speak because his forked tongue remained, and his teeth were too many, too long, too sharp, for him to speak Restuelen. He flexed his hands, examining his poisonous claws and retracting them when he was satisfied. He hated the softness of his human-like skin where the scales did not protect it, and he sorely missed having a tail.
Even with the heavy warming stone around his neck, Najlah could feel the cold biting. He wanted badly to crawl back into the campfire. Stupid wolves forcing him to abandon the only real warmth he had against the detestable cold. One of his battle brothers brought him a heavy cloak and Najlah rumbled in thanks. Wrapping himself in it, moving closer to the fire, he finally gave his full attention to the wolves.
Of all shifters, the Lukos were the most notorious; they stubbornly kept to themselves in the Shide Mountains, and very little was known about them. They were ferals—shifters with no close ties to humans or even other shifters. Dragons had been feral until a little less than a century ago; many still considered them feral. It troubled some of the other dragons, but Najlah had never cared. Why should the opinions of humans matter to him? He was a dragon, infinitely better.
He had not thought he would get to meet the Lukos. They controlled the Shide Mountains, seldom tolerated trespassers, barely tolerated those who traveled with permission, and never left the Shide if they could possibly avoid it. Though technically the Shide Mountains were part of Restuel, it was well known the Lukos only tolerated the king's rule because it suited them to do so.
"We have the king's permission to be here," Fayth said.
The leader of the Lukos laughed, eyes flashing like moonlight on steel. He was too scruffy to be handsome, but he drew the eye all the same. Tall, broad, with shoulder-length, messy dark hair and those pale, sharp eyes. Nothing at all like a dragon, sleek and smooth and sharp, but not unappealing. "If you didn't have permission, you would already be dead. I know the smell of royal soldiers, and shifters. You are the ones they call the Savages, aren't you?" He looked at Najlah when he asked the q
uestion. "The king's finest battle shifters, and it's true they have a dragon. I thought that must be an overblown rumor, but here you are. What a ragtag little pack." He said the word 'pack' mockingly. What made him think they were not one? They were brothers as truly as the hornless brutes Najlah had fought alongside back home. His new brothers might not be dragons, but they fought as fiercely and with all the same love for home and family. Pack, den, different words for the same thing. Who were these stupid wolves to judge them lacking?
Fayth replied coldly, "State your business, Lukos, or leave us to our work."
Laughing again, the leader replied, "Why are a bunch of ill-equipped royal shifters running around our mountain? I'm guessing it has to do with those mages fouling up the place."
Najlah shared a look with Fayth and the others, growling softly.
Reaching into his jacket, Fayth pulled out the sealed letter the king had given him on the chance they crossed paths with the Lukos.
The leader took it, broke the seal, and read in silence. Around him, his wolves exchanged looks, a few of them softly growling or chuffing. Were they communicating silently, by means of magic or some other ability unique to the Lukos? That would be a useful skill to have in the Shide, as enormous and treacherous as they were.
Folding the letter and tucking it away, the leader looked again at Fayth. "If assisting you will help get everyone off the Shide, we'll do it. You'll never do it without us, anyway."
"We've been managing just fine," Fayth said.
"No, you haven't," the leader countered. "A few more days in the direction you're heading would have had you lost in a canyon with no way out. You are also not prepared for how much colder it is going to get. We call these peaks the Frozen Crown for a reason."
Fayth's mouth tightened. "What are your names?"
Grinning toothily, the wolf said, "I am Barkus Shidene, of the Clan Shidene. My pack owns these mountains, whatever the king likes to think." He swept out an arm toward his men as he introduced them. "Hedr, my second in command. Karo, Hyde, Kormis, Dred, and Vyre." He'd barely finished rattling off the names before he returned his attention to Najlah. "I'd heard there were dragons living in the palace, but I did not believe it. You're far from home."
Najlah growled softly, amused by the interest and impressed Barkus was so open about it. Most people were too afraid to be direct.
"It's rude to remain silent," Barkus said, bristling.
Hissing in amusement, Najlah flicked his tongue out, tasting the air, the wolves. Around him, his battle brothers laughed. "He can't speak our languages," Fayth said. "Not with his tongue and all those teeth. He's not so hard to understand. Mostly, he's amused, hungry, or bitching about the cold." Najlah rolled his eyes. "He does not have any qualms about where he finds his food," Fayth added. "He's just as happy to eat you as look at you, so don't do anything stupid."
Barkus shrugged the words aside. "Food sounds like a good idea. While we eat, you can tell us more about this Ranteth we are hunting—assuming the cold doesn't kill him first, which is likely."
"Sit then," Fayth replied and motioned them to gather around the fire.
Shifting back to his true form, Najlah moved to the fire and stoked it. When the flames burned high and hot again, he crawled into them and settled down, ignoring the gawking of the wolves. He glanced at them, flicking his tongue out to taste the air and memorize each one. He paused when he came to Barkus, who still watched him with predatory focus. After a moment Najlah turned his head away. He was not opposed to the attention, necessarily, and might have even returned it, except that even a wolf shifter would likely prove too fragile. Non-dragons, even other shifters, were always far too easily broken. It was not worth the risk, no matter what his brother said. His brother was a horned dragon, a den-dweller. They seldom understood what it was like to be hornless.
More than even the hot stones of his homeland, he missed having an equal. Someone who could take and give with all the force and roughness that Najlah required. He was no soft, warm-blooded creature. He was a hornless black scale; even other dragons gave him space.
Once they were all settled, Fayth said, "This is the closest we have gotten to Lord Kay Ranteth since his attempt to kill the king two months ago. We've been hunting him tirelessly, but so far he's managed to stay ahead of us. If we cannot run him to ground here in the Shide, we will likely never catch him."
Barkus grunted. "The Lukos will catch him. What puzzles us is why Lord Ranteth would attempt to assassinate the king. It is well known that they were more like brothers than cousins, and Ranteth has plenty of power and position as the king's advisor. He gains nothing by turning assassin."
"Their relationship has been strained since His Majesty married Lord Poryth," Fayth replied. "I did not think it had been strained to this point, but I have seen men do worse over less."
"I agree with the majority that it was stupid and selfish of the king to marry a man when his obligation is to produce heirs," Barkus replied, "but he is the king and the law grants him the right. Assassination seems an overreaction."
Najlah growled as he thought of what he would do to the cowardly betrayer when they finally captured him. He would slit Ranteth's throat and drink his blood, tear open his chest and devour first his heart, followed by the rest of his organs. He would eat the bastard's brain last and leave nothing of the man himself behind to return to the earth, and Ranteth's evil deeds already ensured he'd find no rest in the Eternal Flames.
"It was the breaking point, many believe," Fayth said. "The more old-fashioned types, including Ranteth, were already angry that the king encouraged contact with the 'demons of the sands', sided with them in the conflict against old friends. His Majesty compounded the matter when he not only welcomed two of them at court but declared them friends. Anger turned into blinding rage when one of them, Ajith, married Lady Korla."
Barkus snorted. "I would imagine so. The Duchy of Toryth is one of the oldest titles in the kingdom and the wealthiest. She was a perfect candidate for queen, but the king turned around and married a man, and that man a mere baron. And then Lady Korla marries a demon? Clearly none of you should be allowed to arrange your own marriages."
Rumbling in amusement, recalling arguments and tedious meetings that had said much the same thing, Najlah flexed his coiled body, sinuous muscles rippling, dark scales flashing where the firelight caught them just so. Demon. He remembered how often people had said that word when they had arrived in Tahjil. How often they had whispered it when he and his brother Ajith had first arrived at court. Of course, they had said it more of Ajith, enormous in size and magnificent with his long horns.
He would never understand why Ajith had fallen in love with a human. Ajith swore that humans could be stronger than they looked, but Najlah did not believe him. It was true that Korla had so far survived being Ajith's mate, and she was carrying their first kit, but Najlah still worried she would break. She and Ajith were happy together, though. Ajith was happier than he had ever been in Tahjil, and ultimately that was all that mattered.
Fayth kicked at the snow. "We almost had Ranteth a week ago, but he managed to slip by us at the last moment. He's far too good a mage, unfortunately. We're hoping he's having more trouble with the mountains than we are, which might finally give us a chance to finally catch the bastard."
Barkus smirked. Around him, the other wolves shared a look, another silent communication. They had been doing that a lot, at least whenever Najlah bothered to watch them. They could simply be well-attuned to each other, like brutes hunting together, but he still thought his initial thought was correct: they possessed some form of wild magic, or some other unknown ability, that let them communicate without speech. "Alone, you would have stood no chance. With our help, he will be caught. Do you want him alive or dead?"
Najlah snarled at that, head rearing up, and turned to bare his fang at Barkus. His tail lashed the snow, sparks flying all about him as he stirred the campfire. None but he would kill the bastar
d who had nearly killed Ajith, the king, and the regent. Blood brother and sworn brothers, and Najlah would act for them and devour the man who had hurt them by way of coward's poison.
Laughing, Barkus said, "I get it, dragon. Your kill. No one has told me your name, which seems strange since I was told the names of all the Savages when first ordered to find you."
"We do not share information about him lightly," Fayth said. "His name is Najlah. Lady Korla is my sister. We are in-laws, Naj and I."
Barkus laughed. "How much the country has changed. When my grandfather was my age, dragons were regarded as myth. When my father was my age, they were regarded as demons. Now there is one married to the Duchess of Toryth."
Growing bored with the conversation, Najlah settled back down upon his flames and dozed, leaving the rest of them to talk. He did not care about idle chatter, only about finding Ranteth and devouring him.
When he woke later, the air was wrong. Reluctantly dragging himself from the embers, he shook off accumulated snow and flicked his tongue out several times, tasting the air. Snow was falling heavier than before, wind blowing it in every direction, making it hard to taste anything else and obscuring all but what was immediately in front of him. Najlah hated winter as he hated nothing else in the world.
He turned as the crunch of feet on snow drew his attention and caught the barest hint of wolf on the air. One by one, the wolves appeared, eyes glowing in the dark white that had consumed the mountains. They shook snow from their fur and stared up at the cloud-filled sky, growling or softly whining. Slinking up to them, Najlah hissed.
"Blizzard coming," Barkus said and turned to his men. "We need to find better shelter. Damn it, that bastard must be fucking with the weather because this blizzard doesn't feel or smell right."
What was a blizzard? Najlah growled and hissed at him, but Barkus only frowned with incomprehension. Giving up on the wolves, Najlah sought out Fayth. Thankfully, he was already awake, working with the other to pack their bedrolls and destroy what little remained of the fire. Najlah growled, clawing impatiently at the snow.