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The Last Dragon (Book Four of The Witching Pen Series)
The Last Dragon (Book Four of The Witching Pen Series)
The Last Dragon (Book Four of The Witching Pen Series)
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The Last Dragon (Book Four of The Witching Pen Series)

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The Earth is in a state of shock after the apocalypse. The veil between dimensions is no more. Demons and fallen angels walk among humans, and everyone is trying to find their place in the new world - Morgan le Fey's world.

But the fairy queen finds herself cemented within humanity and struggling with human emotions, and her right-hand-man, Lucifer, has secrets which are causing fissions among every race.

Meanwhile, Karl and Elena struggle with their powers, Katarra delivers an important message, and two men will stop at nothing to protect their unborn child - the Messiah of the New Age - and the woman they love.

Far to the east, the fallen Archangel Michael is fighting for the one he holds above all others.

The last Dragon is about to rise and seal everyone's future, which depends solely on its survival ... or its extinction.

NOTES: Contains explicit scenes of sex and some violence. Written in British English. (Full novel-length at approx. 90,000 words.)

LanguageEnglish
Release dateOct 3, 2013
ISBN9781301635603
The Last Dragon (Book Four of The Witching Pen Series)
Author

Dianna Hardy

Dianna Hardy is an international bestselling author of (cross-genre) fantasy fiction, most notable for her dark paranormal fantasy and the raw, intense Eye of the Storm series. But her heart-warming Once Times Thrice series proves she thrives in the light as much as the dark. Whatever your poison, what she loves most is to bring you stories that are action-packed, fast-paced and not short of heat, with the focus on character development, relationship dynamics, and the plot. She writes full-length novels and short fiction.Although quite active online, Dianna prefers the quiet company of nature and animals to the hustle and bustle of people. She loves anything paranormal (she doesn't really consider it "para"), organic food, walking barefoot, the smell of the woods after rain, and summer days. However, she is also sustained by coffee, chocolate and the occasional vodka.Having graduated from Richmond Drama School (London) in '98, she spent the next few years in a multitude of jobs (both acting and non-acting), studying anything that fascinated her, searching her soul, and finally found her passion where it had always been: at the end of a pen.She currently lives in South Hampshire (United Kingdom) with her fiancé and their daughter, where she writes full-time.

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    The Last Dragon (Book Four of The Witching Pen Series) - Dianna Hardy

    A Note From The Author

    For those of you who have ventured here without reading the first three books of The Witching Pen Series, please know that you will get so much more out of this book if you have read the others first – some of what you find in here may be hard to follow without knowing the story up until this point.

    I tried really hard to make this a standalone novel, but felt that I just couldn’t do it without compromising the writing and story to some extent. So, it must not be considered a standalone, but a continuation of the story so far.

    I’ve called this book a spin-off in the past (and still on some sites and in some editions), because it is an urban fantasy, not a paranormal romance like the other books, therefore the writing projects a slightly different tone and the focus is not on any couple or romance. But like the other books, there are scenes of explicit sex and violence contained within these pages.

    You will find ‘God’ spelt with a capital G throughout this series, Earth spelt with a capital ‘E’ when referring to the planet, and Dragon spelt with a capital D when referring to ‘the Dragon’ or the Dragons of old (as opposed to dragons in general).

    Finally, this is the last book I am planning to write set in the ‘Witching Pen world’. It ends here.

    Thank you, endlessly, for being a part of the journey.

    Dianna Hardy

    28th August, 2013

    Glossary of Terms

    The Witching Pen a creation forged by angels after the fall of Atlantis, approximately 11,750 years ago (also known as the fall of Eden) under the instruction of God.

    Lokoli an angel who was demonised and cast out of Heaven, and then became known as the most bloodthirsty demon of all. She stole the Witching Pen from Heaven and created a new dimension she could rule over, as well as seven demon tribes:

    The Lagool lived in water – oceans, rivers and swamps – and she gave them the gift of sight.

    The Brujii lived in the forests and woods, and were given the gift of magic.

    The Malattal lived under the ground, in caves, and held the gift of prophecy.

    The Brokk inhabited the cold places of the north, and were given the gift of immortality.

    The Totilemi were not limited to a region, but travelled the earth, and were given the gift of knowledge.

    The Dessec inhabited the hot deserts, and were given the ability to bend time.

    The Shanka, a type of succubi (and the males, incubi), were given the gift of creation itself – the power of life and death. But too afraid their power would be used against her, Lokoli banished them from the earth, forcing them to live ethereally, only able to enter this dimension through shadows and dreams. The Shanka did eventually kill Lokoli, but only after she awarded them with the Witching Pen. It became rightfully theirs, and to date, the Shanka and the angels are the only two races that can touch the Pen without it causing them damage.

    When humans grew in numbers upon the earth, followed by the ‘fallen’, demons became outnumbered and shunned, and retreated into their own separate dimensions, all of which can be reached via portals, except for the Shanka’s dimension which exists only in shadow.

    Witches humans who practice the art and science of magic (or magick). Some witches are Pagans, some are Wiccans, and some follow other religions, but witchcraft in itself is not religious.

    The Witch Council also referred to as The Council, is the governing coven of all the witches around the world. Run by many Elders and one High Priest / Priestess, they are prestigious and regard themselves as the Keepers of Magical Law.

    Shapeshifters humans that have harnessed the ability to change form, a skill handed down through lineage from the shaman’s of old. Also called ‘shape changers’ and informally, ‘shifters’. Not the same as werewolves or werecats, whose abnormality is caused by a mutant gene.

    Guises forms that shifters can change into. One shifter can have many guises, including that of animals and the four elements.

    Teleportation the act of travelling through space by dematerialising the body. All demons – save the Shanka, who travel by hiding in shadows – can teleport. Teleportation also comes naturally to shapeshifters once they know how to harness the ability. Some witches can also teleport, but it drains their magical energy. Angels do not teleport. They either fly, or will themselves into being in a different place, which is different to teleporting and closer to transfiguration.

    Portal an opening or gateway that can allow one to cross dimensions. Should not be confused with a wormhole.

    Wormhole a manifestation, natural or enforced, that allows one to travel through time. Often interchanged with the word ‘portal’, although the two are quite different.

    The Failed One the term demons use when referring to Jesus Christ

    Abaddon Satan, ruler of the Underworld, and the first angel to have ever been created.

    Primeval Chaos – also called ‘what came before’ by the angels; they see it as a living, breathing mass of dark matter that is dangerous and unruly.

    Dragons ‘the Dragon’ or ‘the Dragons’ (the capital letter denoting their position of prominence among the fay) are physical creatures on Earth, although most consider them to be a myth – no human has ever seen a dragon, and all recordings are considered fictional. (In human notations, the capitalisation of the word has been removed.) Reptilian in appearance, they can grow up to fifty foot high, with bat-like wings, and they breathe smoke and fire. On Tír na nÓg, they were guardians of balance and connected to the fay.

    The Last Dragon

    (the final instalment to The Witching Pen Series)

    Origin of the word, apocalypse:

    Middle English: revelation, Revelation;

    from Anglo-French apocalypse, from Late Latin apocalypses,

    from Greek apokalypsis, from apokalyptein: to uncover;

    from apo- + kalyptein: to cover

    (ref: Merriam-Webster)

    Circumstances do not make the man,

    they reveal him.

    James Allen (author)

    Prologue

    (The first night after all dimensions bled into one.)

    Lying in the crook of his arm, she trailed her fingers along the contours of his smooth, firm chest. Without hesitation, she leaned in a little and followed that trail with her mouth, her kisses making his skin pebble.

    He stroked her arm in response and sighed with pleasure, and then turned his head to take her in with those blue eyes she’d fallen in love with ten years ago – maybe even before that.

    Are you okay?

    Yeah, she nodded. Just wanted to make sure you were.

    He smiled. And this is your way of checking?

    Is there another way you’d prefer? she teased.

    No, this is good.

    Manoeuvring under the duvet, Elena threw one leg across his thighs and hauled herself up and astride him.

    Mmmm … better.

    She leaned down and captured his lips with hers. I love you.

    I love you, too.

    Another kiss … deeper…

    Are you sure you want to sleep here tonight?

    He briefly looked around the room that was Gwain’s – had been Gwain’s – although none of them were ready to admit what had taken place just over twelve hours ago. I’m not ready to go home after this morning. Even if it’s safe, I just … can’t.

    I know. We don’t have to.

    She nibbled his earlobe and he groaned, his hand finding its way to the curve of her bottom.

    Karl…

    Mmmm?

    Have you looked in the safe behind the bathroom mirror yet?

    No. I will soon.

    Her nibbling continued down his neck.

    Karl…

    Mmmm?

    I want to make love.

    She felt him smile against the top of her head. I kind of figured. Are you hungry?

    She paused for a second, letting the brief hurt of his words slide her by, and then glanced up at him. No. Well … yes, but that’s not why—

    Hey, he cupped her face, "I know, but if it was the reason, it’s all right."

    Annoyed, she started to climb off him, but he pulled her back down and held her in place. Elena, I love you, he repeated, and that means your demon too. If she needs to feed, it’s fine – it’s more than fine.

    I want to make love to you because I want to feel close to you and because of everything that’s happened today – to feel safe and happy, if that’s even possible. But she couldn’t deny that she was hungry, and her words rang hollow with the truth she kept hidden. It irritated her that she was so ruled by her demon’s needs. The succubus in her had been very prominent today, demanding her attention, and although the day’s events had been busy, she’d still found herself fighting with the fact that she craved sex – or rather, the energy that sex created. It wasn’t right that whilst in mourning – while everything was collapsing around them – she wanted to fuck for her own gratification.

    She looked away from Karl, aware that he could read her like a book.

    Pinning her on top of him, he reached forward and slipped two fingers under where she sat, finding her centre.

    She moaned with delight, despite herself.

    I want you to make love to me, he said, his voice coarse with desire. Please.

    It was music to her ears and a hot river to the rest of her body. But still she fought it. How can you stand it? The way I look when I… What I do to you when I… She couldn’t finish either sentence, partly because she hated thinking about it, and partly because he’d increased his pace, making her wetter and using her reaction to add fuel to her fire.

    His erection had grown fully under her, expressing his own need. Unless you’ve had a succubus make love to you, you don’t get to ask me that. His fingers entered her, and she gasped, but had no time to enjoy the sensation because he moved her up and repositioned himself beneath her before bringing her back down.

    His cock replaced his hand, both of them fighting for breath as she fell on him; drew him in; sucked him into her…

    Christ, he groaned. "So good."

    And still she denied herself – denied her demon. That moment when I come … it feels like I use you. Repulsion sat heavy in her belly at those words, but it was her mother’s earlier confession that played out in her mind, feeding the self-loathing she tried so hard to master: They have a way of making things … pleasurable.

    She full well knew what her mother had endured while enslaved in the Shanka world, because she knew exactly what her succubus was capable of. "All I feel is what’s inside – you inside me; the demon inside me. At that moment when we’re both on the brink, I lose control and she takes over – she’s the one that has you at that point. I’m scared she’ll kill you – I’ll kill you – all over again."

    Fuck, Elena… His head was stretched back, eyes closed in bliss. Had he heard a word she’d said? Probably not, because she’d been riding him harder and harder as she’d spoken, bringing to the surface what she so needed.

    His soft, angel-glow began to emanate from his body, and that glow had her reeling in satisfaction, grinding faster … deeper…

    But he surprised her once more, as he so often did with his love for her. He had heard her. He looked up, bemused, a twinkling in his eye. "You know, some men like it that way."

    She landed a soft slap on his chest and couldn’t help but laugh, her own love for him swelling like a tidal wave, softening the heat of the river that traversed her for just a second – only a second, because the succubus’ love for him also swelled – yes, the demon loved him as much as she did – and it pulled her under.

    Oh, no … losing … control….

    This was it. This was the moment, she simultaneously dreaded and craved.

    Karl reached up, one hand in her hair, the other cupping a breast, both hands pulling her down so she couldn’t escape what she was. Let her out, Elena. It’s okay … let her out.

    His glow intensified, and she whimpered as she felt her hold on the demon slipping.

    Let go, baby.

    Somewhere outside and beneath them, the ground rumbled with the quakes that had begun yesterday, and not eased off. Angels had fallen and demons walked the Earth among humans, all waiting in limbo for a dragon to rise.

    Oh, God! Let go, Elena! His golden glow exploded from him and filled the room.

    The succubus mirrored his reaction with her own need and Elena released her, unable to hold her back any longer.

    Her skin cracked from head to toe, turned grey like cement – an arid, stony existence that only sexual ecstasy could completely nourish. Her eyes beamed green.

    The demon hissed in victory, slammed herself onto her prize and held his writhing body down as she took every last drop she could from it, finally collapsing on top of him.

    Heavy breaths filled the silence.

    Through the haze of post-orgasm, Elena resurfaced. Karl? she said, shakily.

    Here. His arms, with muscles trembling, came up around her. I’m here. Shit … that was out of this world.

    Tears welled in her eyes. They were relief, joy and sorrow all rolled into one. Relief that Karl was alive; joy that she’d brought him pleasure, and sorrow because, even though the apocalypse was happening outside, it took place inside her every time they made love.

    You and I, she whispered. "The love we have – I don’t want to ruin it with … I don’t want my need to overshadow everything, but it always does. Do you ever wonder what it would be like if it was just us? No demons, no angels – just us … would we be … nothing?"

    Still embedded within her, his embrace tightened. It’s not our supernatural halves that define us, Elena. Just us? That’s not nothing. He nudged her forehead with his nose, and she met his gaze – loving, calm, steady… He placed a lingering kiss on her lips. That’s everything.

    Chapter One

    (Three weeks after ‘The Bleeding’.)

    Blades of grass softly rustled against her bare feet with every step she took.

    She hesitated. Was his hearing still as acute as ever? She didn’t want him to hear her – it was bad enough that she was here. There were other, more important things, she needed to be focused on – not this … not him.

    Coming to a complete standstill, she crouched and watched in fascination as his black hair gleamed blue under the Rwandan sun, the usual clouds that caused the low mist, currently nowhere in sight.

    And didn’t the sun lend itself to that magnificent specimen of a being.

    The tall angel stood as still as herself, his highly defined, muscled back facing her as he attempted to ‘engage’ with the fierce looking Silverback that didn’t quite know what to make of the whole thing.

    She strained to hear what he was saying to the creature, but at little over a hundred metres away, it was next to impossible … especially in this frustrating ‘new world’. A world that had taken them all by surprise. It wasn’t quite … as anyone had expected.

    She crouched down lower to ensure her invisibility. She could have just made herself invisible, she supposed, but her energy levels were all over the place at the moment, adjusting to the new environment the way the environment itself seemed to be adjusting to all of its new inhabitants.

    He reached his hand out in a gentle manner that belied the monster he had been since the dawn of mankind.

    The gorilla tensed.

    The angel nodded his head, almost imperceptibly.

    After a moment of dubiety, inquisitiveness (or was it trust?) evidently won the day. The animal put one arm forward, knuckle-down on the ground, and then another.

    I wonder who curiosity will claim as its first victim: the primate that has no idea what it’s dealing with, or the fairy that wishes she did.

    Morgana hurled a murderous look at the one who simultaneously protected her and annoyed her. You overstep your boundaries, Lucifer.

    My apologies, dear Goddess, but you are needed elsewhere. He glanced at the previous ruler of Hell, bemused. Dian Fossey, step aside… What in God’s name is he doing?

    God has no place here anymore, she whispered.

    Clearly, scoffed the angel. The world’s gone insane and Abaddon fits in quite nicely.

    It’s not that bad. But her voice quavered over the lie that she stubbornly wished was true.

    For the humans, no. Lucky bastards. Of all the beings equipped to deal with an apocalypse, guess which ones would have lost the vote? And yet, it’s the humans who flourish, while the rest of us try to cope with the loss of our powers.

    That new, and fast becoming familiar, sense of asphyxiation grabbed hold of her as anxiety set in.

    Anxiety.

    Now there’s a feeling she never thought she’d have the great misfortune to get to know. But ‘feelings’ appeared to be the norm now.

    It had seemed so simple: end God’s reign; take back her beloved world.

    Except it wasn’t your world anymore, was it?

    Everything’s different now, stated Lucifer.

    The cold hand of suffocation increased it grip around her throat.

    Yes, everything was different. She had thought that when the veil between dimensions fell, that she would be home once more. What hadn’t occurred to her, and she had no idea why, was that they would all be falling into the human world.

    Humans reigned. Not her. It was their home, and she had had to succumb to the metaphysical laws of humans. Human ‘emotions’ penetrated her core; human vulnerability had lessened all her powers – infiltrated all the majesty of who she was, all that she had been – and not just her, but all the fay, demons and now fallen angels. Yes, they all walked the Earth, but the Earth was not theirs. Dimensions had merged, and so, it seemed, had their abilities. The humans had tapped into their hidden potential, exuding powers they had no idea how to control, and all other sentient beings were struggling to maintain theirs.

    And still the Dragon had not risen.

    And all dimensions will bleed into one.

    She had thought that ‘one’ would be hers – her old home. Not the human dimension as it is now.

    Lucifer’s breath brushed across her ear from where he knelt behind her. What were you expecting?

    She turned towards him, furious he could tell what she was thinking. Don’t pretend you knew any better.

    He smiled that infuriating smile of his, and brought up yet another apple to his lips – a habit of his that was more like an addiction.

    She clamped down on her urge to scream when he bit into it. Do something useful with your time, she hissed, keeping her voice down in case Abaddon caught onto their voyeurism.

    Like you are?

    It’s important that we know his whereabouts. He’s unpredictable.

    Yet you’ve always revered him.

    "I remember him, Lucifer. I remember who he was in the very beginning, before—"

    You’re a poor liar in the human world, my Goddess. His eyes gleamed with the secrets she knew he had – she’d always known it – but it had bothered her less before the Bleeding. Now, paranoia was one of those pesky human states of mind that she battled with. What did he know, exactly? How many layers did his knowledge cut through? Were the secrets he kept from her detrimental to her survival?

    Survival? But I’m immortal…

    She no longer felt immortal, even though no weapon, nor time, could kill her. Immortality was measured by your strengths, and all she’d felt recently was weak. You don’t know—

    "I know he’s the greatest sin-eater ever known to any world. His food was weighed by the beating hearts of mortals, his drink was their life-blood – the blacker it ran, the more nourished he became – and his household was every murky soul between Heaven and Hell. The only difference now is that there is no Heaven and Hell. Do you think he would love you, Morgana? He loves nothing because he can’t. Every dark place he visits, he is bound by duty to devour."

    She shook at his words – at the anger they instilled in her; at the humiliation they mustered in her. Was she that transparent? She never used to be. He is no longer bound.

    "You’re a fool if you think he can be the angel he once was. ‘Some sins are ingrained so deeply, the taint will never wash’ – not my words, but his. I’m sure you remember them since you were there with me – two flies on the wall in those final moments.

    He’ll find your dark places, Morgana, and he’ll eat you up and spit you out, unless—his eyes darkened impossibly, because they were already coal-black to start with—that’s what you want.

    She turned away from his void-like gaze, but he gripped her chin and turned her to face him. Stupidly, she let him – because Morgan le Fey was weak now. Is that what you want, my Goddess? He trailed the tips of his fingers down her chin; down her neck … down… Do you want him to find your dark places, eat you up, and spit you out?

    She swatted his hand away with feigned nonchalance. You overstep your boundaries, Lucifer, she repeated.

    In case you hadn’t noticed, all boundaries are gone. And I’m hurt, he pouted, right after biting the apple core in half. We are not strangers to each other’s desires.

    In moments of need; in moments of fun … never in moments of anything more.

    He sighed. Countless millennia, and your compassion still evades me.

    She snorted out a laugh. Compassion? You? Come now … your motivations for living are not based on the giving and receiving of such a whimsical thing.

    His pout grew into a hard smile. And nor have yours ever been … until now.

    They both glanced towards Abaddon once more, who was now stroking the gorilla like it was a harmless little puppy.

    What an odd site.

    And yet, strangely normal, because it was Abaddon and not anyone else.

    I do not seek compassion, nor love, stated Morgana, her voice hushed.

    Liar, whispered Lucifer. From the first moment you saw him birthed – God’s first angel – you were lost to him.

    You were not even a thought that had manifested then. What would you know?

    Watch, my Goddess. The both of them still kneeling, Lucifer crept in close behind her until he cradled her back with his chest. His right hand found the curve of her small waist and he stroked her there gently, not an act of care, but of conniving. Everything with Lucifer had a hidden agenda – it was one of the reasons she despised him, but also the very reason she admired him. His calculations and often ruthless ways had given her the needed means to take back what was hers. Unfortunately, those same traits had infiltrated her being and moulded her into a hardened version of herself. She had never been this cold … once.

    Indirectly, the one most people knew as Satan reminded her of a time when she had been so much more warm; so much more innocent – the irony was not lost on her.

    Lucifer tightened his hold above her hip, bringing her back to the present. Watch … and see how fallen your favourite angel still is.

    It happened so quickly, she barely registered it: a flash of white teeth; movement so fast it was only a blur; buffeted black wings; a roar – tremendous, yet brief – that filled the landscape … and Abaddon had his fangs embedded in the gorilla’s artery, its large flailing body emitting no sound because the angel knew exactly where to strike.

    With a gasp, Morgana turned away from the sight, leaning back into Lucifer and hating herself for it. It was a testament to how much control he had over her – how much she had had to depend on him for events to unfold as they did. The fact that now, after it all, she could not disentangle herself from his web – one she had helped him to build – was a thorn in her side.

    Does nature’s pain feel greater, or less, in this brand new world, my fairy queen?

    You bastard, she breathed, her voice trembling with the hit. The life-force of Tír na nÓg ran through all of the fay and through the invisible matrix that breathed energy into the cosmos. Tír na nÓg had been what came before Heaven and Hell, God being the one who had moulded it into Heaven. When a small piece of Heaven – Eden – fell to become Earth, it had brought some of the essence of Tír na nÓg with it, and all things sprung of the Earth since were connected to Tír na nÓg by default: the wild life, the plant life, and so on. All of the fay felt the connection in a very physical way – more so than any other being – for they were made from Tír na nÓg itself. She could tell you where a forest fire was brewing, or where a thunderstorm dominated the skies, because she felt what the Earth felt. All fairies did.

    Right now, she felt the Silverback’s shock and demise as if it were her own; Abaddon’s teeth sinking into her own neck…

    She moaned and turned her head further into Lucifer’s chest.

    Fingers circled over the material of her dress, low down across her abdomen. "He’s hungry, Morgana, but know this: he chose to feed in this way. He long ago mastered the craving for blood. He doesn’t need it – he wants it."

    "And if I offered you my vein right now, would you turn away from it?"

    His eyes glinted with dark desire as his canines emerged at her words alone.

    Morgana fought back her queasiness, the draining life force of the primate still calling to her, and let out a bitter laugh. "No, I didn’t think so. Know this, Lucifer: I will never offer you my blood and you will never take from me or any fay. That was the oath you made, all that time ago, when you chose to fall into my arms like the inquisitive babe you were." She knew it frustrated

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