Bane's Dragon: Revival (Bane Dragon Wars Book 4) Read online

  Revival

  Book 4 Bane’s Dragon Wars

  Roxie Spears

  Contents

  FREE Gift For You!

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  FREE Gift For You!

  © 2019 Romance Books 4 U

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  For permissions contact: [email protected]

  Created with Vellum

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  Prologue

  The walls of Fieldstone Highschool shivered with cold as a frigid, almost blizzard like wind blew over it. Jasmin pulled her woolen jacket together, shifting in her place, trying her best to resist the clock. The ticking almost seemed to subdue her teacher’s lecturing, drowning it out, making it rather unbearable to her ears. Jasmin stretched her arms above her head, feeling a heaviness in her bones, one triggered by a lack of sleep, or a poor quality of it.

  “And so the difference between an immigrant and a refugee becomes rather blurred, fading into a grey area of-”

  Ms. Madeleine's voice boiled down to a mumbling. Jasmin sank in her seat more and more, having to prop herself up on both elbows to regain composure. She looked around her, exchanging brief glances with her friend, Tina, who seemed quite invested in comparison. She was hunched over a notebook, scribbling down notes, pausing only momentarily between phrases before being hit by another realization. Something lit up in her eyes, like she was somehow more ambitious, more driven than Jasmin. Or at least, she was more into sociology than she was.

  “Well, that concludes our lesson for today,” Ms. Madeleine said, her bug eyes blinking at the class. The bell’s buzzing overwhelmed her voice, and before Jasmin knew it everyone was up on their feet, forming a current that flowed through the door. Tina, on the other hand, was jotting down the final word to conclude her elaborate notes, packing her things slowly. Jasmin waited for her outside, rolling her eyes at the coldness, or rather the interest that she herself didn’t possess.

  “Maybe walk a bit slower,” Jasmin said, flipping her raven hair to the side and shaking her head at her friend, who shuffled towards her.

  “What? That’s the only class I actually like,” Tina’s eyes became wide and she tilted her head a little, holding her books to her chest. Save for her solidarity with Canada’s migrant population, mainly because her parents were migrants themselves, Tina really wasn’t interested in all the rest of her classes. More often than not, she and Jasmin skipped school to walk Tina’s dog and embark on all kinds of juvenile adventures. From longboarding to smoking cigarettes for the first time, the pair were far from your typical goodie two shoes. As they walked down the hallway, Jasmin sighed.

  “I can’t wait to get out of here,” she said, her locker keys jingling in her hand. In her peripheral vision she saw Ms. Madeleine's head pop out the door. Neutral, Jasmin looked the other way and started stacking her textbooks into the tiny square compartment, slamming the locker door and averting her gaze to her friend.

  “Jasmin,” Ms. Madeleine’s voice rang in her ears. The crowd had thinned out, and no one was left lurking in the hall. Jasmin looked over and the slender, red haired teacher was gawking at her a few doors down. Quickly she approached her, a tiny, almost inaudible grunt escaping her throat. Tina lagged behind, pretending to be preoccupied with her phone. “I need to talk to you for a minute.”

  “Yeah?” Even though Jasmin wasn’t the most enthusiastic student, she still cared what Ms. Madeleine thought of her. By the look on her face, it wasn’t good news.

  “Have a seat,” the woman said, gesturing towards a chair.

  Great, Jasmin thought, slumping down. There’s no escaping this place.

  “So, I’ve been getting a sense that you’re not very… invested in my class.”

  There was silence. Jasmin shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes wandering around the room. The redhead pursed her lips and brought her hands together, searching Jasmin’s eyes for a reaction.

  “Is it my grades?”

  “Well, your disinterest is definitely affecting your performance, so short answer, yes.” She stopped pacing and sat across from Jasmin, who didn’t flinch. But the blood did rush to her cheeks and she felt her heart drop slightly, even if just for a moment. Jasmin hated being told that she wasn’t doing a good job, even though deep down she knew that was the case. “You need to work towards getting your grades up, alright?”

  “Okay.” Jasmin’s gaze dropped to the floor; suddenly all she could think about was her uncle. Eventually she stumbled out into the hallway again and started towards the exit. Tina walked next to her, not saying anything.

  “Well, aren’t you gonna say anything?” she asked after a pause. The sky was overcast and gloomier than ever, sending strong winds across the field, hitting Jasmin right in the bones. She shivered.

  “It’s nothing, she just said I need to get my grades up a bit,” she said with her arms crossed. They braved the wind, both thinking about nothing but the imminence of being home. Jasmin spotted Colt standing across the street, waving his hands up in the air. “And there’s my uncle,” she said, cocking her head to the side.

  “Alright, I’m just gonna take the bus home.”

  “You don’t want a ride?”

  Tina hesitated. “No, I think I’m good.”

  Jasmin’s eyes grew wide all of a sudden. “You’re not going home, are you?”

  Tina’s lips curved to a wry grin. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

  “Oh my God, are his parents not around?”

  “Nah,” she shook her head. “They’re in the States. Won’t be back for another week.”

  A squeal escaped Jasmin’s lips. She was suddenly reminded of Colt, who was now waiting for her in the car. “I gotta go, but you have got to tell me how it goes.” She paused for a moment. “What will you wear?”

  A loud honking echoed in the air.

  “Alright, gotta go,” Jasmin said again, turning around and running across the street. Red-nosed and shivering with cold, she quickly got into Colt’s car. “Sorry about that,” she murmured.

  They took off, Jasmin fumbling with her phone, picking up where she left off in her conversation with Tina.

  “So,” Colt said, his eyes on the road. “How was your day?”

  Jasmin sighed. She hated that question, even though she really wished she could answer it wholeheartedly. She put on her seatbelt, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “Whatever,” she said.

  Ch
apter 1

  Saturday mornings were always her least favorite. Jasmin usually woke up to painful silence, one so intense it reminded her of death. She usually stayed in bed long past regaining consciousness, staring at an eggshell ceiling, resisting the urge to fall back asleep. Weekends were important, if not crucial. They were always packed with schoolwork and training, the latter being the more important part of her day.

  As she lay in bed she heard Colt making breakfast in the kitchen. He often left the tap on as he went about doing other things, which annoyed her. The sound of running water got her tossing and turning, pulling the covers up to her chin and then yanking them off her tired body. Jasmin didn’t know why she was tired; she just was. When she finally gave up, she rose and stretched her arms above her head. Arching her back, she sighed loudly, grunted even, not looking forward to the day ahead. Weekends were, if anything, quite depressing, mainly because her priorities were different from her friends’. They extended well beyond studying and going to the movies. Jasmin was different, and deep down she wished she never was.

  She dressed herself slowly, the sweet waft of pancakes traveling up her nose, motivating her a little bit. Colt was humming songs to himself, and whereas some would’ve found that endearing, his chipper morning ways annoyed Jasmin.

  “Morning,” she said, brushing a hand through her disheveled hair.

  “Morning, Jazz,” Colt replied, pouring himself some coffee and joining her at the table. Her eyes wandered around, landing on a plate full of half-burnt toast and a jar of strawberry jam. She tactfully reached for a knife, which she dipped into the thick, jelly-like mixture, scooping it out, inspecting it for only a moment before slapping the blade onto a crunchy slice of toast. Her mouth watered, not because she particularly liked jam, but because she hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday’s lunch. “Slept well?”

  “I slept,” she muttered before biting into the bread. “What about you?”

  “Went to bed pretty late.” Colt hesitated, then proceeded to mirror his niece’s scoop and slap motion. The pair sat across from each other, mirroring each other’s movements yet acknowledging that distance, that rift between them. The windows were fogging up with frost. Jasmin turned her attention to that, chewing slowly.

  “Can I go to the movies with Tina today?”

  “No, you have practice, remember?”

  Jasmin dropped her fork. The truth was that she was tired. “Do we have to practice every single week?”

  “We’ve been over this,” Colt said, agitated. “We don’t take practice lightly. It’s part of who we are. If we don’t practice, we’re nothing. You’re nothing.”

  “You sound like a cult leader.”

  “Call it whatever you want to call it. That doesn’t change anything.”

  “Well, I wish it did.”

  “Why are you so ashamed? Do you realize how hard our family’s worked to get to where we are now? Or are you just going to stay ungrateful forever?”

  Jasmin picked up her fork again and jabbed it into another slice of toast. It released a satisfying crunch sound, one that she didn’t even notice. “I’m not ungrateful. I was just never given the choice.”

  “None of us were given the choice, really,” he said, like that would make it better. Jasmin’s mind, coated in teen rebellion, could not stand any of Colt’s lectures. Agitated, she finished her meal and got up. “Meet me outside in five?”

  “But it’s freezing out there,” she said, not picking her eyes off the frost, which had now completely obscured her view of the outside.

  “Come on, I think you need to woman up a little bit,” Colt replied with a spark in his eyes.

  “Well unlike you,” Jasmin said, almost challengingly. “I don’t have fur to keep me warm.”

  Winters in Victoria were ruthless. Jasmin stood wearing four layers of clothing, staring around the snow. The white hurt her eyes, so she was squinting the whole time. Colt was rather calm, flexing his hands and staring at them, as if observing a masterpiece. He averted his gaze to the sky, seemingly admiring the clouds, which were moving rapidly overhead. “Alright, you ready?” he asked her.

  “Do we really have to do this?”

  “What’s going on with you lately?” Colt’s hands fell limp to his sides as he began to march towards her. His feet sank in the snow, but he braved that tiny distance until he was standing right in front of her. “You’re reluctant to train. Hell, you’re reluctant to get up in the morning. Jasmin, I got an email from your teacher the other day, Ms…”

  “Magdeleine? Yeah.”

  “She said you need to pick up the slack, or you might not pass her class.”

  Jasmin’s heart sank a little. Suddenly everyone was telling her she wasn’t doing a good job. “Her class doesn’t really interest me.” She watched Colt’s face change, scrunch up like a raisin. If anything Jasmin felt fearful of his reaction, not because she expected him to resort to violence, but because she was disappointed in herself. But despite all these feelings, which were now coming to a boil in her head, she still didn’t feel like she could do anything about it, like she wasn’t in control.

  “Well, I’m not sure that’s a good enough excuse,” Colt muttered, kicking at the snow. He dug his hands into his pockets and let out a throaty sigh. Jasmin felt like a burden, but something inside her told her to resist.

  “Leah was the only one who can tell me what to do, not you.”

  Victoria was a lake town. Traffic was scarce and so were crowds. Early in the day, you could barely hear anything but wind. Jasmin’s words evaporated in the air, but they still resonated. She felt her insides tingle in a bad way, causing her to take a step back and curse her luck. “Sorry.”

  “I just want what’s best for you, alright, kiddo?”

  It was clear to her that Colt didn’t know the first thing about parenting, or making a teenaged girl feel better about her life. He didn’t know how to ease her through loss, or motivate her to get her shit together. But then again, no one did. She had resorted to multiple tactics, from talking to friends, to dating, to school counselors. Nothing really seemed to do it for her.

  “Let’s go,” he continued, marching across the snow and heading out. Jasmin followed him down the road, which was more silent than ever. Her skin caught chills.

  It wasn’t long before they reached the clearing, where Jasmin was used to practicing. It was a vast space surrounded by mountains. She often went there when she wanted to be by herself, sat in the middle of what would be grass in the summer, and reflected on her life. In the winter, though, everything was different. Snow covered everything, rendering the world stale and tasteless. Jasmin hated the cold. Unlike Colt, she didn’t relish in the nightly chills and neither did she enjoy sitting by the fireplace. She preferred summers because they signaled the closest thing to freedom.

  “You good?” Colt asked her, bouncing up and down. “I want you to get ready.” He stared around him, running the usual routine. People were never around, but he had to check every time.

  “All clear?” Jasmin ask, but before he could even answer, her hands were already up in flames. Even though she despised her training, she felt energized every time. There was something about having that power, about realizing that she was different, that set fire to her ego. It was a double-edged sword, she guessed. Immediately she shifted, her scales coming in, teeth growing long and her tail inching out of her body. It swept left and right as Jasmin read Colt’s signals. His fur came in, too, but it was only a partial shift.

  That fire in her claws was keeping her warm. Jasmin’s eyes, which were now at the side of her head, darted back and forth, trying to calculate Colt’s next move. Every weekend, she dragged her feet to the clearing, braving her way through the snow, cursing everything. But then as soon as she shifted, everything would change. Jasmin would start to feel powerful, like nothing in the world could beat her. No teacher could beat her down, no friend.

  Even though she couldn’t stand to see herself
as a fire-breathing dragon, she sure did like the feeling of it.

  As she and Colt eyed each other, Jasmin’s lips curved into a smile. He had taught her a move or two last week, and she planned on putting those into action. She wondered if he was cutting her some slack, but she didn’t care. Just as long as she won.

  “Maybe I’ll burn you alive this time,” she said, a little devilishly.

  “Not a chance,” her uncle replied before leaping into the air.

  Chapter 2

  “How do we know anything?” Ms. Maggy asked, scanning her tiny audience of fifteen people. Her questions were often broad and vague on purpose, which Jasmin didn’t mind, just as long as she didn’t have to answer them.

  The class fell quiet.

  “How do we know anything?” she asked again, hopping onto her desk. Her legs swung momentarily before coming to a rest. Jasmin peered around; everybody was squinting, like they were thinking or pretending to think. “Knowledge doesn’t just fall into our laps, you know. Humans have spent countless years questioning everything around them. Tell me, Jasmin; humans are competitive creatures, true or false?”

  “True.”

  “That was a quick answer. What makes you so sure?”

  “I mean, it’s kind of obvious. People compete all the time.” Suddenly she remembered her little showdown with her uncle the other day. After a long and tedious battle, she had finally managed to beat him. “People compete for jobs, they compete for status.”