Gods & Monsters (Serpent & Dove #3) by Shelby Mahurin

I secured neither. More birds darted to replace the others, shrieking indignantly.

It was no good. There were too many of them. Too many patterns. Seizing Nicholina, I charged toward the cliffs with talons on my neck. Coco sprinted behind with Beau, and Thierry swooped Célie up in his arms to follow.

“Reid!” I didn’t slow at my brother’s incredulous shout. “What are we doing?”

No. I maintained my focus, searched blindly for the right cord. If we hoped to survive with our eyes and tongues, we’d have to jump. My vision pitched at the thought. Madame Labelle had once said a witch could fly with the right pattern. Deveraux had said a cardinal couldn’t if it didn’t believe.

Well. We were about to test their theories.

If you’re listening, Deveraux, please, please, help us—

I didn’t get the chance to finish the prayer.

A deafening roar shook the cliffside, the trees, and an amethyst wing parted the clouds of smoke overhead. An enormous amethyst wing. Membranous. Razor-tipped. Fire sprayed in a wide arch, silhouetting the great, hulking shape of a serpentine body. A scaled leg appeared. A barbed tail.

An entire dragon followed.





The Dragon and Her Maiden


Reid

I could only stare as it dove toward us.

It roared again, and from its great mouth, more fire spilled forth. The heat of it nearly blistered my skin. Finally regaining my senses, I dropped to the ground, covering Lou’s body as the crows overhead shrieked in agony. Their burning corpses fell around us like macabre rain—those that fell at all. The dragon incinerated most midair. It snapped vicious jaws around others, devouring them whole.

The others had tumbled with me, covering their heads as if their arms might shield them from the dragon’s flames. Except Thierry. He too had fallen, but he didn’t cower, instead gazing at the dragon with an unfathomable expression. I could’ve sworn it looked like—like relief. But that couldn’t be right. We’d leapt from the pot into the fire. Literally.

Even with magic, with knives—even if I’d still wielded my Balisarda—we couldn’t hope to defend ourselves against a dragon. We had to flee. Now. While we still had a chance. We just needed a diversion. Quickly, I pulled at the golden web of patterns. Something loud. Something big. Something to slow the beast as we sprinted for the cliff. Could I fell a tree? A forest of trees? Yes. A cage of wood for—

For a fire-breathing dragon.

I closed my eyes. Fuck.

But I was out of time. It’d have to do. Bracing myself for the consequences, I gathered the golden cords in my hand. Before I could pull, however, the dragon snorted, and fresh smoke engulfed us. I glanced up. Spotted a miniature flame through the haze. My eyes narrowed as I looked closer, harder. It wasn’t flame at all, but hair. Red hair. A person.

Seraphine smiled down at me from the dragon’s back.

The earth shook as it landed with another roar, tossing its great head. Between one blink and the next, its horns unraveled into lavender curls, and its tail rippled into black satin. Reptilian eyes blinked to brown. Amethyst scales smoothed to skin.

“Thierry.” Voice low and hoarse, Zenna caught Seraphine in her arms, transformation complete, before placing her swiftly on her feet. They both hurried toward their fellow troupe member. I gaped at them. We all did. Even Nicholina.

Zenna. Seraphine. He reached them just as Seraphine extended her arms, and he lifted her from the ground to spin her in a circle. You’re here.

“So are you.” Zenna didn’t look pleased. “Imagine our surprise when Claud sensed you at last—in northern Belterra, of all places. Not the tunnels we’d been searching for weeks.” She seized one of his hands. “We’ve been worried sick, Thierry. Care to tell us where you’ve been? Where is Toulouse?”

Thierry’s face fell.

I pushed myself to my feet, pulling Nicholina up with me. “You—you’re—”

“A dragon, yes.” Zenna heaved a long-suffering sigh, and smoke curled from her nostrils. After inspecting Thierry one last time, she casually wiped the blood from her lips. She’d painted them gold today. They matched the blooms embroidered on her gown. “Bonjour, Mort Rouge. Shall we all digest together? Go ahead. Take a moment.”

“It’s going to take a hell of a lot longer than a moment.” Beau staggered upright and dusted off his trousers in vain. “This is—I can’t believe—we shared the same bed, and you never told me? I slept with a dragon!” He whirled to face me as if I hadn’t heard him, arms splayed wide. “An actual dragon!”

Coco stood faster than humanly possible. “You what?”

He lifted his hands just as quickly. “It was entirely platonic.” When her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, he retreated a step in my direction. I ignored him. Nicholina had wormed away from me. I pulled her back with a scowl. “I was cold,” Beau continued defensively, “so Seraphine offered her spot.”

Seraphine rested her head on Thierry’s shoulder. Refused to release his arm. He squeezed her hand with equal fondness, like a brother might a sister. “Some nights I can’t sleep,” she said.

“Yes, exactly.” Beau nodded to Coco. “She’s unusually kind, this one, even read to me until I—”

“She did?” Coco clapped her hands together with a terrifying smile. “Do tell me more. Tell me all about your cold night between Zenna and Seraphine.”