Falk Clan Tales - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Callius was mesmerized by this female. Her entire aura seemed to light up the dim establishment, beckoning to him like a siren. He felt the pull like it was something physical. As if he were a fish on a hook. When he finally laid eyes on her, she stole the breath from his body.
He wanted to go to her, to pick her up in his arms and take her far from this place. From the prying eyes of all, especially the men who frequented this establishment. He could sense most of their intentions and they were not at all honest.
He’d tear the heart out of any who did more than just approach her for more than just a drink. Even then, it took an enormous amount of restraint not to act on his instincts. He managed it though. Barely.
He used the time to study her. She tended the bar with quick efficiency. Her banter with the patrons was easy and honest. She was no stranger to hard work. He admired that in her. The last time he was free to pursue a female, things were much different. Noble maidens did little but preen the day away. He’d never met one who made his heart thunder the way this female did.
Callius waited over an hour for an opening to speak with her. When she poured his drink, she did not try and use her femininity to seduce him. Much to his dismay. He doubted she was even aware of the invitation in her eyes or the seductive way her hips swayed as she walked away from him. It only made his desire for her grow more intense.
Her curvaceous backside was perfectly outlined in her form-fitting pants, another new one for him. Maidens wore dresses and bustles the last time he was out and about, but it was not the pants that did him in.
It was her long blonde hair that had his full attention. It hung down her back in a long, wavy ponytail. Yellow topaz, citrines, golds, ambers, and silver threads all flowed together in an array of softly curling waves. A Dragon’s treasure trove.
Callius wanted to stretch out his hand and run his fingers through the shiny locks. Her hair reminded him of the strands of golden thread Dragon artisans, like his brother Alexsander, used to make tapestries. His kind prized the unique pieces as they took dozens of years, sometimes hundreds, to create just one of the prizes.
He had no patience for the task, but he witnessed his brother at work. The first step was to take dozens of precious metals and to carefully mold and make them into long strands of glittering, delicate thread. Just like the female’s hair. All unique. All beautiful. Sacred to Dragons.
As she is sacred to me. She was beautiful. Striking and alluring. He watched her long before he talked to her. Her silver-gray eyes had flashed from across the room drawing his attention. Silver, gold, bronze, she was captivating.
“Lady? That word if I may?”
“Just a sec,” she turned around and his heart thudded in his chest.
Her heart shaped bottom was completely outlined in her fitted clothing. Someone to the right of him was unfortunate enough to make a similar remark aloud. Callius growled and stood to his full height glaring at the offender.
“Oh dude, is that your girl? Sorry man.” the human retreated quickly.
Callius rubbed a hand over his face. Fool. You are acting like she is in your possession already.
It was not completely the boy’s fault. His lady’s attire was entirely too revealing. It excited him as much as it enraged him that other males were gawking at what he now considered to be his. He would have to talk to his chosen mate about this. And soon.
He sipped from his second tumbler of Dragon Bite, his new favorite drink, and rolled his shoulders. He was quite tired from his flight. The amber liquid warmed his stomach.
It made him think of other things he’d like to have to warm him in the night. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, his leather pants were a little too restrictive for such thoughts. It was neither the time nor the place.
While his lady was busy, he took a moment to view his surroundings. Strange styles of dress surrounded him and even stranger methods of communication. Yes, he had a cellular phone, but the box remained in his pocket. These patrons were simply glued to the things.
He knew about the latest technology, but he’d never seen it in use in such a large group. Fascinating. His younger brothers were part of a group Dragomir sent into the world to explore and learn new technology every couple of decades or so.
Callius and Edric were seldom freed and when they were, it was mainly to fight in battles and wage wars. He’d killed and maimed many a foe in five-hundred years. Blackthorne Castle had seen a serious increase in Demon activity the last hundred years or so.
He’d been called upon to kill them and defend the Castle by his former keeper. That was the most noble battle he’d fought these last five-hundred years. More often he’d fought to fatten Dragomir’s coffers. Yes, he’d killed for land, for money, to avenge some insult or other, for greed, for power.
Dragons could be so very petty. When you lived as long as they did, priorities got blurred at times. At any rate, hanging up his sword was not difficult at all. Sometimes, it was difficult to believe he survived the last five centuries at all. But he never gave up. That was what counted.
So much time had gone by since he’d last spread his wings. Thank goodness for Nikolai and Alexsander, otherwise he’d have no idea what these people were up to with their flashing little screens and constant talking to rectangular shaped boxes.
The world always seemed to turn whether he was rotting in his cell or not. It amazed Callius, humanity’s ability to create and expand without benefit of shapeshifting or magical prowess. Ever curious, ever hopeful, such a delightful though delicate species. Dragons and humans rarely interacted in the past, but things were different.
He did not wish to retreat to some cold rock in the middle of nowhere. He wanted to live. He wanted to be free. He wanted to stake claim to Castle and mate as soon as possible. Speaking of which.
Back to the task at hand. Claiming his mate. Callius needed to devise a strategy. He thought about what he knew of her. The lady worked with nimble hands. Speed and efficiency her allies. Callius liked the way she moved. Each action made with the fluidity of practiced ease and confidence. Open and friendly, but slightly guarded. Smart. Cautious. He approved of both.
She greeted her customers with a quick wit, charm, and grace that intrigued him. The man in charge treated her with respect and kindness, but nothing untoward. The patrons of the establishment responded with smiles and tips to her natural warmth and charisma. Everyone seemed drawn to her. He was no exception. She was like a bright beacon in the dark night.
It pleased him that she reacted positively to his physical appearance. It was good that she found him attractive. He’d been told during the rare times he took a lover that he was quite something to look at. Though he couldn’t say his appearance was of any great importance to him. Only in that his mate might approve of his looks.
His mate. Callius finally found her. He knew it the moment he laid eyes on her from across the crowded room. She was resplendent in her beauty. Silvers, coppers, and golds harmoniously blended to create a palate of precious metals and gems in her hair and her eyes.
Ruby red lips that tilted at the corners as she spoke to the patrons. Her smooth skin, pale as ivory, was exposed in various degrees across her miniscule clothing. Aye, she was a veritable feast for his eyes. The other women in the bar did not even compare.
When she poured him his aptly named drink, he wanted to beat his fists on his chest. She was providing him sustenance. Caring for him. Callius’ Dragon stirred beneath his skin. He wanted to claim her. Now. This woman was his destiny. Es meus.
He only needed wait for the right moment to ask. He tried to sit still while she completed whatever task it was that stole her away from the bar, but seconds felt like hours. Patience was not one of his virtues.
Just a while longer, then they could talk. And he could ask his question. When she agreed to be his, he’d give her the diamond rose. Only then would she be his. Forever bound.
He tapped his knuckles on the bar. The sound of the rapping allowed him to tune out the other noises all around him. Callius focused his attentions inside of himself. He needed to look into his Dragon’s heart. A low, deep grumble erupted from his chest as the words sank into his consciousness.
Es meus. Carpe Domina.
Mine. Seize the maiden. Claim her. Mate. Bond.
He opened his eyes and felt the rightness of his choice settle around him like a cloak or mantle.
To think he chose this establishment on a whim. He shook his dark head. Perhaps the Fates were finally being kind? Or was it that his heart had simply led him to she who was his destiny. He inhaled deeply, trying to discern her exact scent, but there were too many foreign smells in the crowded tavern for him to single her out without having breathed her in first-hand.
His Dragon stirred restlessly. He was unhappy with uncertainties. He wanted to claim her here and now. Callius clenched his jaw to stop himself from acting on his instincts. He needed to remain in charge of his beast. Soon. I will claim her, but patience is necessary.
He looked to where she had disappeared a few minutes ago but saw no trace of her. That only caused greater anxiety. He closed his eyes to get himself under control.
Once I mark her, all will change. I will know her heart and mind and she will know mine. There will be no need for this worry or anxiety. Peace now.
He’d heard all the stories since he was a child. There was only one true mate for every shifter. He found his female through the unbreakable bond a Dragon shared with his Maiden. A bond of such strength it defied nature.
The Dragon then claimed her and gifted his female with a part of himself. Enabling longevity and sometimes telepathy between mates. Not even death dared to break the sacred matebond. Though a Dragon could choose to give up his immortality to pass into eternity with his mate.
Without the bonds of a true mate, without a clan, or a castle, a Dragon would grow weak in his mind as well as physically. The older the Dragon the quicker the slide into madness. It would poison his brain, and jealousy would take hold of his heart. Callius was at an age where he could feel his emptiness begin to consume him. It was not a pleasant feeling, more like an impending doom settled around his heart the last hundred years. He’d seen what emptiness could do. Such horrors he’d witnessed first-hand. In Dragomir’s Castle.
He could never want such a half-life. Like the one his former jailer lived. Consumed by greed, lust, and insatiable in his desires. The Chief was empty no matter how many pastry cremes he stuffed into his mouth or how full his coffers grew.
Callius would not grow to be like him. Not ever. He would not have to. The golden-haired beauty was his true mate. His diamond rose. He had no doubt.
To think, he landed not far from this tavern only hours before. It was not the shoreline or the lights that intrigued him from the heavens. No, it was the spirit of the city. It was different. It was special. Like a supernatural pharos.
A light in the dark that pulsed with energy calling to all those who were, like him, of the other side of the world. Humans and Shifters lived here side by side whether the normals knew it or not. Within the crowded room he smelled traces of Vampire and a whole lot of Wolf. He smiled to himself.
Callius had fought many a Wolf Pack in his day. They were worthy of doing battle with a Dragon. Fierce warriors, and loyal to boot. He hoped they were friendly as he had no present wish to fight. His years of subjugation to Chief Blackthorne had left him wanting naught, but peace and freedom.
He wished only to look upon his mate. To pull her supple body close and breathe her in. To mark her so that no man, normal or not, dared look at her again. To fill her completely and wholly as he desperately needed to. Callius waited impatiently for her return.
Red glitter heart confetti stuck to his hand as he continued tapping the bar with his fingertips. What strange decorations, he thought to himself and tried twice before succeeding in shaking the frills off his skin.
He turned his mind to his journey. He’d almost forgotten how exhilarating flying could be. With each shift to Dragon, his body was replenished with strength and power. That was why Dragomir had not allowed them to shift at will. The bastard had no more claims on Callius and his brothers, but still the memory was sharp in his mind.
He wished his brothers had stayed with him. As eldest his need to keep them safe and to secure them a home was intense. But he understood their desire to spread their wings and explore the world. A world that they had only glimpsed at the past five-hundred years.
Not Callius. He saw enough of the world while waging war for Dragomir, Chief of the Blackthorne Clan. He’d not waste another moment of his time. After his long imprisonment, he understood the value of time more than most. His first order of business was to find his true mate. Done.
Next, he needed to find a castle. A home. He liked the look of this land as he circled from the heavens above. Of course, it was never as easy as all that, but he never looked for the easy way. Not Callius. The Falk Clan will claim this place, he thought to himself.
This land, this New Jersey had everything. Lakes, mountains, cities, suburbs, farmland, forests, and of course, the ocean. A perfect place for a Dragon Clan to settle. And unclaimed by any Clan he knew of.
In the few times over the last five-hundred years that Callius had been in contact with Dragons from other Clans, he had never heard of one settling in America. Most of those Dragons had decided the country was vile and filthy. Full of ingrates, criminals, and vermin.
He shook his head. For all their long lifetimes, his fellow Dragons tended to be old-fashioned and unwilling to change. No, there would be no other Clans to fight for dominion here. This New World would belong to him and his family. Theirs for the taking. The Falk brothers waited long enough for a place to call their own. Home.
Callius was finished waiting. He stood up. He’d make his claim here and now. First his mate, then his castle.