Prince of Fire | Dragonfire Book One

Capítulo Treinta

It was only under the wise guidance of his mother, Sephaline, did Dracula halt his ruthless mission.

~ The Draconic Book of Songs

Chapter Thirty

Elena heard a familiar muffled crack first, before the grunt of pain from Dante. Her heart almost stopped when she saw him clutch his shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers. Had he been shot?

"Dante!" His name left her lips automatically and fear inundated her body.

Despite having been shot, Dante moved very quickly afterwards, grabbing her arm, shoving her behind him and his retracted wings, and dropping into a defensive stance. His head whipped around to the direction from where the bullet came. He looked ready to fight, but Elena thought that it was better to seek shelter from danger, especially since he was injured. She tugged back at his uninjured arm to try and drag him into the house, perhaps leaving the attacker to Meihua, but when she looked back past Dante, she stopped cold.

There, at the end of the driveway, partly hidden by the trees, stood her father with a stern expression on his face and his gun pointed at Dante.

"Papá!" she gasped. Adrián's face remained unchanged at her cry. Dante inhaled sharply, but tried to keep Elena behind him as Adrián reloaded his gun. She heard a hiss from behind. Meihua.

Elena slapped Dante's hand and side-stepped him, placing her body between him and her father. Dante snapped at her, but she swatted at his struggle.

"Párese, papá!" Elena demanded. With her in the way of the trajectory, Adrián lowered the gun and turned his glare to her.

"Step aside from that dragon, mija," her father replied. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"Put the gun down, papá," she said. Dante stepped forward, causing Adrián to twitch a little, so Elena shoved Dante back and ordered him to stay still. She also threw Meihua a warning glance, and while the petite dragon also backed off, she was tight with tension and looked ready to strike if necessary. Her prince had been shot after all. "Let's settle this peacefully," Elena said.

"Mira, Elena. Es un dragon. Un monstruo," Adrián said. Dante tensed under her fingertips. Even if he didn't know Spanish, which he probably did since he had been alive for many many centuries, it was obvious what Adrián had said.

Tight-lipped, Elena turned her head so that she could keep an eye on both of them. To Dante, she said, "Do you mind putting away your wings?"

Dante's jaw was tight, and she could feel the tension running through the rest of his body and the small electrical current that he was generating. But he nodded, keeping his eyes on Adrián and Shifting to his complete human form. His large wings seemed to just disappear into his back beneath that golden mist, melding from leather and scales to skin and muscle. The blood stopped seeping through his fingers - dragon blood at work, Elena mentally noted - but he kept his hand over the wound on his shoulder. Despite his look of dissatisfaction, Adrián lowered his gun, put the safety on, and placed the weapon on his holster.

"Release her and I'll spare your life," Adrián told Dante. His hands were firmly placed on his robust and sturdy hips, and his legs were set shoulder's width apart.

"It's up to Elena whether she wants to leave or not," Dante stated darkly, definitely not helping de-escalate the situation with the almost taunting lilt in his tone.