by Tessa Adams
For the first time, she truly understood why a wolf would rather chew off its own foot than remain in a trap.
She would do anything to get away. Anything and everything.
She lay in the dark for long minutes, panting and struggling as terror continued to whip through her. But as time passed, so did the panic, and she was left with nothing but the bone-deep resolve to escape—or die trying.
Dylan would come for her, she knew that. Angry as he was, he would never leave her here at the mercy of these monsters. He didn’t have it in him. But at the same time, she prayed he wouldn’t show up. She didn’t want to be the death of him, didn’t want him to fly into a trap just to save her.
Especially since she couldn’t guarantee the state she’d be in when he arrived. She couldn’t survive another attack, not without losing her mind. And she’d rather die than have that happen. Rather die than have Dylan see her brain turning in on itself as it had all those years before.
Think, Phoebe, she told herself. There had to be something she could do, some way she could think her way out of this. Because the alternative wasn’t an alternative at all.
Good plan, Logan called to Dylan mentally as they flew through the air at well over a hundred miles an hour.
I thought so.
Seriously, you can’t just go in there like a crazy person. That’s what they’re waiting for.
I’m not crazy. I’m perfectly calm. And he was. It was the strangest thing, but he could only describe it as the eerie calm before the storm. He could think with perfect clarity, plot and plan with the best of them. But only one thing mattered to him: getting Phoebe out. He would get her out, even if it meant his death.
Okay, yeah. I’m glad you think you’re calm. Because, to be honest, you look like a berserker on the middle of a rampage.
You haven’t seen anything yet.
I know—that’s what I’m afraid of.
She’s my mate, Logan! The words burst from him. Do you really think I’m going to leave her in the grips of those bastards for one second longer than necessary?
Of course not. I know she’s your mate, and that’s why I’m preaching caution, the other man shot back. It’d be nice to have a mated pair in charge of the clan again.
Dylan almost fell out of the sky. You know?
Logan sent him a mental eye roll. We all know, man. It’s not like you made a big secret of the fact that you’d grind us to dust if we touched her.
I thought it would bother you. I tried to ignore it, tried to push my feelings for her away as long as I could.
Why would you do that? Logan sounded appalled. You’ve been looking for your mate for more than four centuries.
She’s not dragon, Logan.
So what? You’re going to give her up because of that?
I can’t give her up. I’ve tried.
I don’t know if that makes you stupid or smart. Logan shook his head. I’m disappointed in you, man. This beautiful, amazing woman comes along, and you think you’re going to throw her back because she’s not a dragon?
I already said I’m not throwing her back. I’ll give up the throne if I have to, give up the clan. But she’s mine.
It’s not an either-or situation, you know.
It could be. What if we can’t have kids?
That gave Logan pause, but then he shot back, Because she’s human? We have more than a few shifter/human matches.
But not in the royal line. There’s never been a mixed marriage, never been mixed children. What if that’s for a reason?
I think you need to stop worrying and just be thankful you found her after all these years. Let the rest take care of itself.
Easy for you to say—you’re not the king.
And I think we can all be grateful for that.
The conversation stopped as another dragon joined them. He was big and muscular, his scales muted shades of green and silver. For the second time in the past few minutes, shock nearly plummeted Dylan to the ground.
Gabe? he asked incredulously.
What? You didn’t think I’d let you take on these bastards without me, did you?
I don’t. I didn’t—
Save it. Gabe’s voice was grim, almost dead, but filled with a determination that promised vengeance of the worse sort. They killed my wife and daughter. I’ll be damned if they get a shot at my best friend—at my king—too. I’ve been watching your back for too many years to stop now.
Emotion squeezed Dylan’s throat shut, had his talons curling into the dragon’s palms until he could feel blood dripping. Thank you. His clan’s faith in him—especially in dangerous times like these—never failed to humble him.
They stopped talking as they got closer to South Dakota and the Wyvernmoon compound deep in the Black Hills. But Dylan couldn’t help going over the conversations he’d had with Logan and Gabe again and again.
He’d failed at so many things in his life.
He hadn’t been able to save his brother from being ripped apart in front of his eyes.
Hadn’t been able to convince his father that he would make a good ruler in David’s stead.
Hadn’t been able to find a dragon mate or keep his clan safe or figure out this damn disease until it was too late.
Hadn’t been able to save his sister and his niece. And now, now he’d failed to protect the only woman he’d ever loved.
Terror raked at him with poisoned claws. When he thought of what Silus and his men could do to her before he and Logan showed up, it made him ache. Made him burn.
He wouldn’t fail at this, too. If they’d hurt her, he would burn the whole goddamn place to the ground with all of them in it. And to hell with the consequences. The Wyvernmoons needed to learn, once and for all, what came from fucking with the Dragonstars.
Eventually the compound came into view and he started dropping down, lower and lower. Looking it over from all angles as he searched for its area of greatest vulnerability.
Are you sure you don’t want to wait for the others? Gabe demanded. Shawn, Riley, Paige and Caitlyn are right behind us.
That’s what they’re waiting for—a big attack. I’m going in alone.
Bullshit—we’re going with you. This from Logan.
Neither of you can turn to smoke.
Maybe not, but there’s no way in hell I’m losing the king on my watch. Fuck you very much.
I don’t need a babysitter.
No, you need a straitjacket. Silence for a moment; then, Okay, how are we going to do this?
I’m not sure y— Dylan froze as he saw it. Looked again, just to be sure. Then closed his eyes and mapped out the whole compound in his mind’s eye. No, it was definitely there—a weakness toward the back, an opening in whatever protection charm Silus had used to guard the Wyvernmoons.
He circled toward the opening, moving a little lower with each pass. On the third time around, he pointed it out to Logan and Gabe.
Do you think it’s on purpose? Gabe asked.
That’s what I’m wondering. But I don’t know if we have a choice—it’s the only vulnerability I can see.
All right, then. Logan took a deep breath. Let’s go.
I’ll go. You two wait for the others.
Dylan—
It’s not a request. If it is a trap, I’d rather my two best sentries were out here with the others, figuring out a way to get us out. If it isn’t, then I’d still rather you were out here. More of you equals a bigger distraction.
Before Logan or Gabe could say anything else, he shifted from dragon to smoke and streamed through the narrow opening so quickly, the other dragons were left blinking behind him.
Braced for an attack that didn’t come, he made himself as small as possible as he got his bearings. He had entered near the back of the compound, where the barracks were, and he streamed along the ground, as silent as a ghost, gathering information as he went.
He was still anticipating an attack—Silus would have to be a lot stupider than he gave
him credit for if he didn’t know about the opening in the shield. Which meant he was flying into a trap. But that was okay. He had no intention of dying here today, not after he’d finally found his mate.
But where would Silus keep her? The barracks were too obvious, not to mention too public. Not everyone in the clan would agree with their leader kidnapping an innocent woman as an act of revenge.
So somewhere else, then. Somewhere a lot more private. He shimmied through a fence, slid under one door, then a second. But where? His house? The house of one of his sentries? Maybe. But where would those be?
To your left. Caitlyn’s voice was in his head. Callie says she sees Phoebe in a little cabin toward the edge of the compound.
In the hills?
Yes.
Of course—it was so much easier to defend from higher ground. And so much easier to spring a trap.
He turned to his left, put on a burst of speed that would get him to the highest hill in a matter of minutes. As he did, he ran through his concerns. What kind of trap was it? How many guards would there be? How would he get Phoebe out without giving them a chance to hurt her?
We’re coming in, Dylan.
Give me one more minute, Logan. Let me get a little closer. He drew up on the small mountain, saw the cabin nestled into one of its craggy cliffs—and the guards stationed on every side of it.
Slowing down, he slipped up the mountain, stealthily moving from the cover of one small bush to another. He made sure to choose the smallest ones, those least likely to hide a grown man or dragon, and therefore under much less scrutiny. Never had he been so glad that he’d kept his ability to shift to smoke a secret.
When he was close—so close he could smell Phoebe’s blood—he shouted Now! along the individual paths that connected him with his sentries. As they streamed through the hole in dragon form, one right after the other, it took every ounce of self-control he had to wait it out.
They’d hurt her. He could smell her pain and fear as easily as he could her blood, and the dragon was going insane with the need to get to her. The man wasn’t much more rational.
The guards hadn’t moved, and he didn’t know what they were waiting for. They should be rushing for his sentries—surely Silus didn’t have so many highly trained men that he could leave eight here to guard Phoebe and still have enough to take on his sentries, as well.
He was just gathering himself, preparing to somehow go in around all eight of them, when they must have gotten the message. Five of them shifted and took to the air, leaving only three around the cabin.
Those were odds he could work with. They’re coming. Dylan shot the words to Logan, then snuck around to the back first, still in smoke form, and wrapped himself around one of the bastards’ necks, squeezing until he fell to the ground in a silent heap.
Then he streamed around to the front where two guards waited, their eyes scanning the distance. For a second, he hesitated, a powerful sense of foreboding filling him. But he shook it off and shifted to human form in front of them. Before either could react, he’d shoved a fireball down one’s throat and then turned to the other, not waiting to watch the first man disintegrate.
The second guard got off a shot of lightning, and it sizzled across his shoulder, sending electric shock after electric shock through his body. Ignoring the pain, he shoved his fist into the asshole’s face hard enough to make him reel back. Then knocked him headfirst into the wall of the cabin. A quick, powerful kick to the head once he was down, and the guy wasn’t getting up again.
Stepping over him, Dylan rushed to the cabin and threw open the door. Before the door had hit the wall, pain exploded down his right side, paralyzing him. His right leg went out from under him and he fell, just in time to see Silus shoot a bolt of electricity into Phoebe’s prone, unmoving body.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The jolt of electricity went through Phoebe so hard, she started to seize. For minutes, she was aware of nothing and no one but the pain. But as the seizure ended, she remembered Dylan, and fear unlike anything she’d ever felt before went through her. Not for herself, but for him.
She’d tried to warn him. When Silus had heard him sneaking up to the cabin, she’d concentrated on sending him mental vibes to stay away. She wasn’t one of his sentries, didn’t have a mental connection to him like they did, but she’d hoped the feelings between them would be enough for him to sense her. It obviously hadn’t worked.
Forcing her uncooperative lids to open, she was just in time to see Silus slam Dylan with a bolt of electricity, one so powerful that his entire body quivered and his limbs shook violently.
“You think you’re so strong, Dylan. Think you and your goody-two-shoes clan should have everything. The best land, the most valuable jewels. The strongest magic.” Silus shouted the words as he continued to pour electricity into Dylan.
“I’m sick of it, sick of you. The Wyvernmoons aren’t second best—not to you and not to anyone.
“You think you’ve beaten me, but you don’t have a clue. Maybe you killed my son, maybe you beat my safeguards. But your reign is over—the disease my scientists invented is even now working its way through your people, even now festering inside them. Soon there will be nothing left of Dragonstar, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”
Dylan was too busy convulsing to truly understand the words Silus was yelling at him, but Phoebe wasn’t. Anger ripped through her. She was getting damn sick of these sadistic bastards and their fucking lightning bolts and mutated diseases. When she got free, she’d make them pay for hurting Dylan. For killing Marta and Lana and all the others in the most painful way imaginable.
She would kill them all.
At her bloodthirsty thoughts, as it watched her lover being tortured through her eyes, the thing inside her came awake, furious and snapping. For the first time since she’d felt its presence, she didn’t shove it down, didn’t ignore it, didn’t pretend it away. Instead she embraced it, opening herself to whatever it was. If it could save Dylan, then she would deal with the consequences afterward.
Pain—incredible, overwhelming pain—worked its way through her. As it did, she realized she was changing, growing bigger, stronger. The ropes binding her snapped like rubber bands, and she came off the bed with a roar that rivaled any of Dylan’s at his most furious.
She didn’t know what she was, didn’t care at the moment. All that mattered was getting to Silus. He shouted in alarm as he saw her, lifted his hand to blast her again even as he started to shift, but Phoebe was too quick for him. Leaning forward, she used her mouth to grab him by the arm.
Once she had him, she lifted him five feet off the floor and shook him until his bones rattled and his brain sloshed around in his head. She heard it, actually heard it knock against his skull, though the doctor in her said such a thing was impossible. He tried to fight her, muttered words she instinctively knew were meant to harm her and set him free, but she was having none of it. With a roar, she flung him against the cabin wall. Smiled as she heard his back break. And then she was on him, her nails—now curved and sharp as knives—ripping through his thick skin like it was nothing more than tissue paper.
Behind her, Dylan struggled to his feet. “Enough, Phoebe. Enough!” She turned to find him staring wide-eyed at her. There was blood on his face, blood that had leaked from his nose and his left ear when Silus had been torturing him, and he was paler than she’d ever seen him.
The sight of him, nude and battered, bloody and abused, made her want to throw herself on Silus’s dead body and rend him limb from limb. Instead, she took one trembling step toward Dylan, and then another and another. When he touched her, she fell at his feet, human once more.
“We’ve got to get you out of here,” he said, yanking her toward the front door. “Silus probably put out a distress call before you ripped him to shreds. His men should be here any minute.”
He pulled her down the steps at the front of the cabin and then headed down the hill.
“Can you shift again?” he asked hoarsely.
“Shift?” She stared at him dazedly, shocked by the blood on her hands and the unfamiliar soreness in her body. What had happened back there?
What had she become?
What had she done?
There was no time for recriminations, however. Dylan muttered, “Never mind,” then shifted to dragon form while they ran. He scooped her nude body up with his head, flung her onto his back, and then they were soaring through the compound, dodging lightning and power surges from seemingly all directions.
As they flew, she realized they weren’t going to escape. There were too many of the enemy, too many weapons being used on them. She put her head down, tried not to look. If they were going to die, she didn’t want to see the blow coming.
But somehow, Dylan managed to run the gauntlet Silus had set up, negotiating around each electric shock and pulse of energy, spinning and diving with each new shot that came at him.
She finally raised her head to look, then moaned in disappointment. There was a group of dragons up ahead, fierce-looking and bloody. There was no way they could get through them to safety, no way—
She cried out as the dragons fell in around them, certain it was the end. She clutched Dylan, brushed a kiss down his neck and held on to him for dear life. So sure was she that they were going to die that it took her a moment to realize that the dragons weren’t attacking. Instead, they were shielding them, protecting them. She looked closer at one of the dragons, found herself staring into Shawn’s whiskey-colored eyes, and nearly sobbed with relief.
As one, the dragons rocketed upward, climbing higher and higher and higher, until Dylan took the lead. He pulled in his wings, extended his neck and shot straight up. A surge of energy rolled through her as he did, flattening her, as if they had broken through something powerful and dangerous.
Dylan never faltered, however, and she glanced behind her in time to see the other six dragons follow him out. When the last one cleared, Dylan turned back and shot a long, deadly stream of fire straight at the place they had come through. It hit a barrier and spread out until it covered the entire sky above the Wyvernmoon compound, trapping all their pursuers on the other side of the blanket of fire.
