Then, slowly turning, she offered a tentative smile. “I am called Charda.”
“Charda.” Levet heaved a rasping sigh. “Beautiful.”
The female’s blush deepened. “Are you a gargoyle?”
“I am, indeed.” Levet moved to stand directly in front of the imp. “Levet.” He performed a bow. “At your service.”
She blinked, either bemused or fascinated by the silly creature. It was tough to know which.
“Pretty wings,” she at last murmured.
Levet turned to the side. “You may touch them if you wish.”
“Levet,” Rya chastised, watching as the young female began to inch her way toward the door.
He sent her a startled glance. “What?”
“Behave yourself.”
With a tiny giggle, the imp abruptly dashed out of the cell. Of course, she did manage to send a glance of invitation over her shoulder before she disappeared down the tunnel.
Levet gave a click of his tongue. “See what you have done?”
“Me?”
“You frightened away the lovely imp,” he said in reproaching tones, heading toward the door.
Rya conjured a mock frown. “Hey. I thought you were here to rescue me?”
The miniature demon shrugged. “I can multi-axe.”
“Task,” she corrected. “Multi-task.”
His pace never slowed. “The portal is open. You are rescued.”
Rya’s amusement abruptly faded as she realized that Levet truly intended to leave the cell.
“Wait,” she called out.
Levet came to a sharp halt, glancing over his shoulder to study her concerned expression. “What is wrong?”
“You can’t go out there.”
A wounded expression twisted his ugly features. “I will not harm the imps. I merely wish to become better acquainted with sweet Charda.”
“I’m not afraid for the imps,” she swiftly assured him. “I’m afraid for you. The runes are too dangerous.”
“Ah.” He waved aside her warning. “Do not fear, ma belle. I am a gargoyle. We are impervious to runes. Enjoy your dragon.” With a last smile he was hurrying away, clearly on the hunt for his pretty imp.
Rya shook her head as she moved to inspect the tray. There were several bowls of fresh fruit and vegetables, as well as a plate of roasted meat. Her mouth watered. No sense in letting the food go to waste.
Polishing off a bowl of pineapple as well as several slices of meat, she was nibbling on a carrot when a tidal wave of heat rushed through the air.
Torque.
Turning away from the tray, she watched as the gorgeous male stepped into the cell.
Instantly her dragon roared in satisfaction. Although she’d been pleased with the thought of Torque becoming acquainted with his mother, there’d been a part of her that had been unnerved to be parted from this male.
As if he felt the same sense of emptiness, Torque instantly crossed the floor to wrap her in his arms and brush a kiss over her welcoming lips.
“I thought I caught the scent of granite,” he murmured as he lifted his head. “Is the gargoyle here?”
“Yes.”
He gazed down at her upturned face, his expression baffled. “How did he get here?”
“My mother was concerned so she created a portal,” she explained. “Levet came through to rescue us.”
He grimaced. “Does your mother hate us?”
Her lips twitched. “He is a KISA.”
Torque muttered his uncomplimentary opinion of the tiny gargoyle in his role as a hero. “Where was he going?”
“He was chasing after a young fire imp.”
“I hope she singes him,” he muttered.
Rya wrapped her arms around his neck. She didn’t want to talk about Levet.
She was far more interested in her delicious soon-to-be mate.
“What about you?” she murmured.
He arched a brow. “Me?”
“Were there any pretty fire imps who caught your attention?” she teased, not really concerned.
The one thing she could trust in this world was Torque. He was utterly and completely loyal.
“None,” he said without hesitation, his arms tightening around her. “I am addicted to the scent of lotus blossoms.”
She went on her tiptoes to place a light kiss on his jaw.
“Did you see your mother?”
His eyes darkened, but it wasn’t pain. Instead it was a bittersweet regret.
“Yes.”
Her hand moved to cup his lean cheek. “And?”
“We can discuss it once we’re in my lair—” He gave a sudden shake of his head. “Not my lair. Our lair.”
She tried to read his expression. “At least tell me you listened to what she had to say.”
“I listened.” He flashed a teasing smile. “And even learned.”
She widened her eyes. “A miracle.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead before they skimmed down her cheek to the corner of her mouth.
“You are the miracle, my love,” he murmured in husky tones. “My mother is preparing a portal for us to leave. Let’s go home.”
“Oh.” Rya stiffened at the mention of a portal.
Torque narrowed his eyes, studying her apologetic expression.
“Hell. I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“I have to see my mother.” She gave a small shrug. “She used the last of her strength to create the portal.”
He heaved a resigned sigh. “Perhaps my father wasn’t completely wrong to barter off his family.”
She skimmed her hands down his neck and over his broad shoulders. Torque wasn’t the only one anxious to return to the privacy of his lair.
“Thankfully, you will be a much better father,” she assured him in husky tones.
His eyes flared with sapphire fire. “I’m more interested in being a mate.”
Pulling out of his arms, she grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the waiting portal.
“We have a whole eternity ahead of us.”
He stroked a finger down the curve of her back, sending sparks of fire through her blood.
“Not long enough.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Torque had been a very good dragon.
Not only had he patiently escorted Rya to her mother’s lair so she could assure herself that Kai was properly resting, but he’d actually waited until they were in the privacy of his lair before he’d torn off her clothes and ravished her.
Then, as a reward for his excellent behavior, he’d carried her to his bed, and allowed her to ravish him.
Now he held her tightly in his arms and nuzzled at her throat.
Eventually he would get up and make them something to eat, but for now he intended to enjoy a slow, thorough seduction that might very well take the entire day.
Nibbling a path of kisses down the curve of her neck, he pretended he didn’t hear the sharp knock that echoed through the lair.
Beneath him, Rya stiffened. “Torque.”
His lips traced the dragon marque that draped over the luscious curve of her breasts.
“Hmm?”
“There’s someone at the door.”
He released a small burst of fire that made her squirm with pleasure.
“Ignore them and they’ll go away,” he told her.
She gave a throaty laugh, her fingers combing through his hair.
“You always say that.”
“Because it’s true,” he said.
Then the knocking stopped, only to be replaced by an explosive burst of power that rattled the bed and sucked the air out of the room.
Which meant that either a nuclear bomb had just been planted in his lair, or it was Baine on the other side of the door.
“Not when it’s a pissed-off dragon,” she muttered.
No shit.
Muttering beneath his breath, Torque reluctantly climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of faded jeans.
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“I’ve changed my mind,” he said, his gaze captivated by the sight of Rya spread across his bed.
Her dark satin hair was spread over the pillows, her eyes smoldering with amber fire. She was sensual female temptation wrapped in glorious beauty.
Was it any wonder that he wanted to toss her over his shoulder and disappear in a puff of smoke?
“About what?” she demanded, covering her slender body with the sheet.
He barely resisted the urge to reach down and yank it back off.
Dammit. He’d just gotten her alone and naked.
He didn’t want to be interrupted.
“I no longer want to live in this lair,” he told her.
She lifted her brows. “You want to move into my rooms in the harem?”
“Hell, no,” he growled with a shudder. “I was thinking about our own island.” There was another blast of power. This one shattered his mirror. “Far, far away,” he continued with a grimace.
“First you need to answer the door,” she warned.
Accepting he’d pushed his master far enough, Torque leaned down to press a swift kiss against Rya’s mouth.
“Don’t move,” he commanded.
Forcing himself to straighten, he headed out of the bedroom and across the open living space. Then, not bothering with a shirt or shoes, he pulled open the door.
He found Baine in his usual human shape. Narrow face, Asian features, and almond-shaped eyes that burned with the same amber fire as Rya’s.
Today his black hair was pulled into a tail at his nape and he was wearing a loose pair of dojo pants that revealed the metallic tattoos that swirled over his chest with vibrant color.
“What?” Torque demanded.
Baine planted his hands on his hips, his brows lifted.
“That’s not a very nice way to greet me.”
Belatedly realizing that being rude to a dragon was a good way to end up toast, quite literally, he gave a stiff bow of his head.
“Forgive me, master,” he murmured. “I was hoping for some time alone with my mate.”
Baine glanced over his shoulder, noting the overturned furniture that had happened during their frenzied arrival in the lair.
“Have you completed the ceremony?”
“Not yet. We’re waiting for Kai to recover her strength.” His lips twisted in a rueful smile. “And now I suppose we’ll have to include my mother,” he added. From the short amount of time he’d spent with Nalani, he was fairly certain she would be overjoyed to be asked to assist with his formal mating. “Not that I need a ceremony. As far as I’m concerned, Rya is mine.”
“Yes.” The floor beneath their feet abruptly shuddered. A sure sign that Baine was trying to control his emotions. Not his greatest skill. “Kai is the reason I’m here.”
Torque hissed. Damn. He’d been so caught up in his annoyance at being interrupted during his time alone with Rya, he hadn’t considered that Baine might be there to deliver bad news.
“Has something happened?”
“Not to her.”
“Thank the goddess.” He released a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Rya would be destroyed if her mother had been hurt. “What is it?”
“Kai traveled to Synge’s lair to use her magic to keep Blayze unconscious,” Baine said.
Torque nodded. “Yeah, she promised to help while Ravel seeks a way to end the curse.” He studied his companion’s grim expression. “It didn’t work?”
“She didn’t have a chance to try.”
Torque felt a stab of surprise. When they’d left Synge’s lair he’d been desperate to locate Kai so she could help his daughter. “Why not?”
“Blayze is missing.”
Missing? Torque blinked. And then blinked again.
The words didn’t make any sense. Nothing and no one could get into a dragon’s lair. Well, except Baine’s mate, Tayla.
Which meant she couldn’t have been kidnapped.
And since she was knocked unconscious, she couldn’t have walked out.
So that left…? What?
“How’s that possible?” he at last muttered.
Baine shook his head. “No one knows, but my father is on a full-out rampage trying to discover what happened.”
Torque shuddered. He didn’t doubt for a second that Synge’s fury was epic. He’d just had his daughter returned to him. Now to have her snatched away…
Yeah. He was going to make sure Rya stayed away from her father until Blayze was returned.
Already considering the best means of convincing his stubborn mate to avoid Synge’s lair, Torque was struck by a sudden thought.
“Wait,” he said. “What about Char?”
Flames danced in Baine’s amber eyes. “He’s missing too.”
“Oh, shit,” he breathed.
Baine gave a slow nod. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”
The End
Charred by Darkness © 2017 by by Debbie Raleigh.
Editor: Julia Ganis
Cover Art by Patricia Schmitt (Pickyme)
Formatting by Sweet 'N Spicy Designs
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.
http://alexandraivy.com
Charred by Darkness
Dragons of Eternity Book Three
Alexandra Ivy
CHAPTER ONE
Levet appeared at the entrance of the dragon’s lair with a dramatic flutter of his wings. He was a gargoyle who liked to make his entrance in style. And really, who could blame him?
Okay, there were a few stupid demons who had called him a sorry excuse for a gargoyle. And he’d even been voted out of the Gargoyle Guild, just because he barely stood three feet tall and his magic wasn’t the traditional, boring gargoyle magic.
But whatever he lacked in stature, or magic, he more than made up in sheer magnificence.
His features were gloriously grotesque, and he had the traditional thick gray skin of all gargoyles. His eyes were reptilian and his horns were stunted. He even possessed a long tail he kept polished until it glowed.
Even more superb, his wings were brightly colored and delicate as gossamer. The haters might claim that they would have been more fitting on a sprite or fairy than a lethal creature of the dark. But as far as Levet was concerned they only added to his air of sensuous mystery.
Waiting for the door to be swept open, Levet gave a sniff of disapproval.
Really, it was too bad of Tayla. He’d been having a perfectly lovely time with a fire imp when his friend had sent him a frantic mental plea for him to join her at Synge’s lair.
Pinto.
No, wait. That wasn’t right.
Pronto. He snapped his fingers. Oui, that was it.
The least she could do was be standing there, awaiting his arrival with bated breath.
This had to be the work of Tayla’s new mate, Baine, he decided, wrinkling his snout. When he’d first met the pretty imp, Tayla had been hiding from the lethal dragon. They’d lived together in a pretty tea shop where Tayla had cooked him delicious treats.
He sighed. He missed those days.
Now Tayla was all googly-eyed over her mate, with no time to provide Levet with hot scones and his favorite nectar. It was a tragedy.
Perhaps he should return to the volcano where his fire imp was waiting for him. The way she could singe his—
Levet’s naughty thoughts were interrupted when the thick stone wall slid inward. He hesitated before he waddled forward. There was no point in putting off the inevitable. The quicker he could discover what Tayla needed, the quicker he could return to
his lovely imp.
There was the fresh scent of citrus, then a female appeared out of the darkness.
Tayla.
She was lovely. No surprise—all fey tended to be blessed with exquisite beauty.
Today she was wearing a loose white tunic that flowed to the floor in a shimmer of silk. Her dark gold hair was fanned over her shoulders and down her back with hints of fire in the strands. Her face was a pale oval with a narrow nose and plush peach lips. Her eyes were a pale green with shards of jade, and thickly lashed.
At the sight of him she held out her hands. “Oh, Levet. Thank the goddess.”
Levet reached to grasp her fingers. “I do not think you need to thank the goddess,” he assured her. “It was my kind and generous heart that brought me here.”
He believed in pointing out his accomplishments. How else could other creatures properly appreciate his many talents?
Tayla’s lips twitched as she released his claws and waved him into the cavernous space.
“Yes, well. I should warn you that things are a tad…” She paused, before she cleared her throat and continued. “Tense today.”
Levet stepped forward, his wings snapping together as the wall slid closed behind him.
Heat and smoke and a hint of brimstone curled around them. It was smothering.
“This is a dragon’s lair. When are things not tense?” Levet pointed out.
“True.” Tayla wrinkled her pretty nose. “Let’s just say that things are more tense than usual.”
Levet scowled. “What the devil is wrong with the dragons? Not only did Baine steal you away from me, but his father just had his mate and daughter returned to him. The old lizard should be delighted,” Levet groused, still annoyed with having his comfy home disrupted when Baine had come to claim Tayla in return for her father’s debts.
Tayla paled. “Shh. If Synge hears you…” She allowed her words to trail away. Almost as if she decided that she was wasting her breath. She gave a shake of her head before turning to lead Levet deeper into the lair. “Never mind. Follow me.”
Levet hurried to keep up with his hostess, his claws scraping against the stone floor. Unlike Baine’s palatial home, his father, Synge, preferred a more rustic style. Barren stone. Heavy wooden beams on the ceiling. Torches dotting along the walls. Screams from the torture chambers.
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