“Kill him?” Louis scoffed. “Why would we do that? He’s bonded to the Astarot. Every strike on his skin will reverberate through the magical tie and hurt Dragoi. Or have you so soon forgotten who gave you that scar?”
Marian straightened, shoulders stiff and muscles tense. “I haven’t forgotten.”
Misha swallowed. “You should take him far from here and release him.”
Louis’ eyes widened. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
“That same magical bond you intend to use to hurt the Astarot is what Rafael Dragoi will use to track his Secundo. Are you prepared for the dragons to descend on us? So soon after their last attack? They are most likely amassing their fighters and heading toward us as we speak,” she said.
“They won’t track him with those chains on. They can feel his pain, but not his exact location.” Louis snorted and turned his glare toward Hank. “I’m more inclined to follow Marian’s suggestion.”
“Father, no.”
Everyone turned toward her.
“You captured them before and look what rage the dragons brought down on us. Imagine the revenge if you killed his second. This feud will never end if you do this. We should find a way to make peace instead. To ensure our—”
“Peace?” Louis spat the word. “Peace?” He scowled and waved at her body head to foot while addressing his men. “My useless, soft daughter pleads for peace.”
Though the words weren’t new, they still cut. The sting of Father’s derision and disappointment invoked all her painful childhood memories. Misha didn’t see the hit coming. One moment her father looked like he’d swallowed something foul tasting, the next his fist connected with her face and everything went black.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Hank thrashed against the chains as Misha crumpled to the floor. The chains clanked and metal groaned, but nothing budged. Sweat poured down his brow and face. That animal hit his own daughter.
“Peace,” Louis spat again. He stalked toward the door. “There will never be peace.”
“Sir?” One of the men stood beside Misha’s prone body. He’d balled his hands into fists and slowly relaxed them as Hank watched. “Your daughter?”
“Leave her.”
The man hesitated. He had a softer expression when he looked down at Misha. Hank wanted to punch it off his face.
“Marian, come. Leave her to fester with the dragon. Maybe she’ll come to her senses. We need to prepare.” Louis jerked his chin at the other guards and the filed out of the room.
The door slammed shut and metal grated as a deadbolt turned. More metal slammed. They also placed a security bar across the door. A little redundant considering he couldn’t feel his dragon with these chains on. Maybe they did that for Misha.
Misha.
Maybe having a reprieve from his dragon’s voice was a good thing. He could only imagine the berating his dragon would rain down on him, scolding Hank for not watching his back. Those fuckers never would’ve caught him if he paid attention to his surroundings, but instead of remaining ever-vigilant, he got lost in the fire of Misha’s brown eyes. Maybe he shouldn’t have scolded Lara for getting caught off-guard. If he survived this, he’d never hear the end of it.
Misha’s shallow breathing and the occasional clank of his chains when he shifted position filled the room. God, his shoulders burned.
He kneeled on the cold ground, useless, three feet away from her. The skin running over her cheekbone grew red and swollen. That man was her father? He was such a bastard and she…
Hank growled. She was a traitor. She infiltrated the clan and set him up. And he’d been too busy admiring her long toned legs and pouty lips to notice. Fool.
It’s more than her legs and lips. Even though he couldn’t feel his dragon or hear his voice, he knew what the scaly bastard would say right now.
Misha’s indomitable spirit drew him in like a moth to the flame. He’d sensed something in the mysterious woman, her own kind of fire that called to him, pulled at his dragon essence and demanded a response. That instantaneous recognition mated dragons went on and on about. Raf told him he’d first ignored the weird knowing sensation when he met Lara.
Mate.
Hank snorted and tore his gaze away from Misha. She couldn’t be his mate. He had to be wrong. Dragons mated with dragons…didn’t they?
No. Misha wasn’t his mate. She couldn’t be. She wasn’t a dragon and she betrayed him.
And she also asked her father to let him go. Did that redeem her at all?
Hank grunted. Too little, too late. What if he hadn’t found Lara and Misha dining in that café? What if he’d been too late? Would his sister be here in his place? Cold shimmied along his spine.
He scanned the room for escape routes.
Misha groaned and her body shook. Her breathing deepened. She rolled to lay fully on her back.
An ispolin woman. They’d never seen one of the females before. Did she shift into a grotesque giant as well? How could someone so beautiful transform into something so ugly?
Maybe the shift was easy—a simple switch to reveal her true character inside.
Maybe that was a little harsh, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t true.
Misha’s eyes fluttered open. Her mouth parted and she took deliberate deep breaths. She turned toward him and winced.
Hank flinched. Her face had swelled more, almost completely shutting her left eye. She lay there and watched him. Watched and waited. For what?
Hank glared at the woman Lara trusted. They’d all trusted Misha to keep Lara safe. To hell if he’d break the silence.
“You must hate me,” she whispered.
“Accurate,” he said. “But I would’ve used stronger words.”
Misha sighed and rolled to a sitting position. She swayed and flung her arm out to catch herself.
Hank ground his teeth and curled his hands into fists to prevent himself from reaching out to try to help her. Why should he show her kindness? Even if every cell in his body screamed to protect and soothe her? Hank ground his teeth. What could he do anyway? They’d chained him to a wall.
Misha folded her legs and studied the metal links binding him to the wall and floor. The dim light bounced along her smooth skin and danced along the dark red highlights of her brown hair.
“I can’t believe you fooled us all. You passed all our background checks,” he said. “Your father was right. I am stupid.”
She shook her head, her hair brushing against her swollen face.
“I actually thought—” He bit off the words with a snap of his teeth and looked away. She didn’t need to know. They’d probably use it against him, somehow, anyway.
She glanced up. “Thought what?”
This whole situation was one big clusterfuck. “It was stupid.”
“You already established how you feel. Tell me anyway.” She returned her attention to his chains. What the hell was so fascinating with the metal? Or was it simply that she couldn’t meet his gaze?
As if she heard his unspoken question, she looked up and leaned forward slightly, as if her very existence depended on his answer.
Fuck. She was a great actress. Maybe that was the superpower for ispolini women. Instead of turning into hideous monsters on the outside, they hid them on the inside.
“I’m so fucking stupid, I thought you might be my mate,” he said.
Misha’s shoulders dropped and she lifted her chin. Her words echoed through the damp basement and dug into his skin. “I am.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Many generations ago…
Edgar paced in the hallway waiting for Romano to admit him to his personal rooms. The bastard had already kept him waiting, sending his page to tell Edgar he needed a few moments. Edgar didn’t need the page or Romano’s silent treatment to know how angry Romano was with Edgar for slipping his guard and arriving at the castle after Romano. Father had already yelled at Edgar enough.
Edgar owed Romano an apology. His brothe
r had to return to the keep alone and explain Edgar’s absence without any forewarning or information. Romano would’ve stood there seething and trying to explain to their father why he had no idea of his wayward brother’s whereabouts. And Father would’ve unleashed his fury.
Edgar sighed. What’s done was done. He wished he hadn’t set his brother up for an uncomfortable confrontation with their father, but it couldn’t be helped. And now here he was about to ask Romano for the biggest favour of his life. Sure, Edgar knew he pushed the boundaries a little.
His dragon, Georgi, snorted.
Okay, a lot.
But it couldn’t be avoided. He didn’t intend to sabotage Romano’s plans for the Asen family. He had planned to seduce a barmaid or two and satisfy his needs on the sidelines while Romano discussed business and plotted with the ispolini. The second he laid eyes on Ilana, though, his plans disappeared and all he could think about was her.
The door opened and Romano stood in the doorway. Taller than Edgar by a few inches and wider, Father always liked to point out how Romano got the brains and brawn while Edgar got the beauty. It wasn’t fair to either of them, really. Romano wasn’t ugly and Edgar surely wasn’t as idiotic or weak as his brother and father believed.
“You have some explaining to do.” Romano’s deep, even tone didn’t fool Edgar. He was still angry with him.
“May I come in?”
Romano stepped back and waved Edgar into his sitting room. As the first born, Romano boasted a larger set of rooms than Edgar. A low burning fire crackled and popped at the side of the room and two chairs basked in the glow. Edgar knew better than to take a seat not offered in Romano’s room. This might still end up in a fight and he’d rather stand. From Romano’s tense posture and folded arms, it appeared his brother felt the same way.
“I never intended to sabotage your plans,” Edgar said.
Romano smirked. “Luckily for you, despite your actions, I was able to secure a betrothal.”
Invisible knives stabbed at Edgar’s heart, from the anticipation spreading across Romano’s expression and the idea of Ilana going to another man’s bed.
“About that…” How the hell did he broach this topic?
Romano’s expression darkened. His black brows furrowed. “What have you done?”
“She’s my mate, Romano.”
“Enough!” Romano hissed. “Enough of this foolishness.”
“It’s not foolishness,” Edgar said, spreading his hands out in front of him. “It’s the truth. Ilana has seen the truth in her scrying mirror as well.”
Romano recoiled. “Ilana?”
Edgar nodded.
“You pursued my betrothed behind my back? Was that where you were? Seducing an innocent pawn?”
Pawn? Ilana was no one’s pawn. Edgar bit back the words and raked his hand through his hair. This wasn’t going well. He needed to get all the facts out. Surely, Romano would see reason once he heard the whole story. “She sent a message for me to meet her after she consulted her scrying mirror. You know how ispolini women are with their magic. If their Great Mother shows them anything in the waters, they take it as truth. She pursued me. She felt what I felt and it’s not a passing folly or infatuation as you’d like to believe.”
Romano’s face went blank. He gave nothing away. His gaze shifted left and right, only slightly, indicating a rapid stream of thoughts racing through his mind. That was never a good thing. “Did you defile her as well? Pluck the pretty rose who threw herself down on your path?”
“No!” Best not to tell him about the soul-searing kiss that confirmed everything he felt in his heart. “Never.”
Romano remained still.
“Brother, I beseech you. Ilana is my true mate. It has been foretold by the ispolini mother. We must never ignore a true mating call. The gods will curse our house.”
Romano appeared to shake himself. “Of course. Of course.”
Relief washed through Edgar. “You’ll break the betrothal and support my cause with father?”
Romano’s shoulders relaxed, his limbs loose and his mouth more slack. “If what you say is true, brother. I will support you.”
Edgar breathed a sigh of relief. “It relieves my heart to hear that.”
“Do you have plans to meet her?”
Edgar nodded. “We plan to meet at a grove in two days’ time.”
Romano nodded, a small smile of approval spread across his face. “I’m glad you thought of a contingency plan. Our parents or hers may not release either of you. It is the grove near the chapel on the river we passed?”
Edgar nodded. “That’s the one. If we can’t terminate the contract, can I count on your help?”
“You can count on me, brother.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Present Day…
Misha remained frozen in place as anger rolled through Hank’s body, then disbelief. Still chained to the wall, his reaction to her words was so potent, it vibrated off his skin. If Hank wore normal restraints, he would’ve ripped them from their metal anchors to throttle her. But he couldn’t. These had powerful magic woven into them.
“Why would you say something like that?” he growled. “Is this a joke to you? Am I a joke to you?”
“I’m your mate,” she said. “The scrying water confirmed it.”
“Your water is mistaken and probably poisoned.”
“The Great Mother never lies.”
“Your Great Mother is mistaken.” Hank’s lip curled up in a nasty snarl. “I know what you are and it’s not my mate.”
“Yet, seconds ago, you admitted to feeling the mate bond. Why deny it now?”
He looked away.
God, she didn’t want to ask, but she needed to know. “All right. If I’m not your mate, what am I then?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me,” she urged.
“I did.”
Understanding slapped her face. Pain stabbed at her chest and her stomach dropped to her knees. Oh god. He really hated her. She couldn’t salvage this. She couldn’t save him. Or anything they might’ve had together.
“Nothing,” he repeated. “Nothing but a traitor.”
Her stomach twisted. His words sliced at her heart. Everything screamed at her to run from the room to escape Hank’s hateful gaze and find some place to curl up and cry. But where would she go? Everywhere outside that door contained ispolini. As much as she hated herself, she hated some of her brethren more. They couldn’t see her like that—broken and distraught. They’d use her distress against her. Besides, knowing Father’s spiteful nature, they probably locked her in here with Hank.
She straightened her spine and steeled her nerves. No. She couldn’t flee from his rage and hurt. He was her mate. Her true mate. She needed to fight for him.
“I’m not a traitor,” she said.
Hank grunted. The irises of his eyes flashed red.
“I was Lara’s friend long before she revealed her dragon nature.”
“And now?”
She knew what he meant. What was she to Lara now that Misha knew she was a dragon? “Now I’m confused.”
Hank narrowed his eyes.
“I’ve been told my whole life who the enemy is. Who I should hate. Who I should kill.”
“If you’re looking for sympathy, I’m not it.” His muscles rippled under his torn shirt as he tensed. “How many of us have you killed?”
“None. My guilt lies in the circumstances of my birth.” She swallowed and pressed on. He needed to hear everything. “I’m not looking for sympathy. I want understanding. Regardless of my confusion, I couldn’t despise my best friend, and I can’t hate…” She bit down on the thought and looked away.
“Me?” Hank finished the sentence for her anyway. “You can’t hate me.”
She shook her head.
“So, you feel it, too? It’s not just your Great Mother telling you so.”
Of course, she felt it. Why else would she consult the scrying water?
>
“What did they teach you in the security guard school? If you don’t hate me, why did you set me up?”
Misha snapped out of her thoughts. “I didn’t.”
“These chains say otherwise.”
She shook her head. “No. No. I…”
He looked away, disgust evident in his expression. She was losing him. The silence of the room deafened her. The vents pumping central air into the room, the distant hum of vehicles outside on the compound, the buzzing in her head—all these sounds became a backbeat to her thudding heart.
“They tracked my phone,” she blurted.
Hank turned back toward her.
“Without my permission or knowledge. I didn’t meet with Lara to betray her or set you up. I met with her to…” Her brain fumbled for an adequate explanation. “To give her an excuse for why I wasn’t going to be around.”
Hank’s red eyebrows rose into his hairline. “You planned to leave?”
“I planned to cut myself from Lara’s life. And yours.”
He clenched his jaw.
“I couldn’t let him use me to get to either of you.”
Hank rattled his chains.
“My plan failed.” She nodded. “Now, I don’t know what to do.”
“Leave,” Hank said.
His one-word response stabbed at her chest all over again. The poor thing was pulverized already. It couldn’t handle much more. She lifted her chin and pulled her shoulders back. She couldn’t leave him here for torture and death. “You’re not in the position to order me around, big guy.”
Hank closed his eyes and took a moment. “I’m not telling you to leave me alone. I’m telling you to leave full stop. Get out. Take some clothes and money and run. Far away. Not just from me and Lara, but from your family and this…this…hate. It will destroy us all. If you leave, you might survive.”
Misha trembled. Every word smacked her soul. “I can’t leave. They’re…family.” They were all she had. Where would she go?
“Friends can be family.”
“But my one friend is here. You’re here.”
Dangerous Decisions (Obsidian Flame Book 3) Page 9
