Charred By Darkness (Dragons of Eternity Book 3)

by Alexandra Ivy

Probably not ever.

  He slowed and came to a halt as the sound of male voices floated through a trellised grate just ahead. He wanted to get closer, but he didn’t dare take the risk they could sense his presence. Right now his scent could easily be coming from any of the nearby rooms.

  Turning so he could place his back against the wall and prevent anyone from sneaking up on him, Char concentrated on the low conversation.

  “Do you have confirmation?” one of the dragons was asking. Char was guessing it was the smaller dragon. His voice held a note of ass-kissing that meant he was the weaker of the two.

  In dragons, size really did matter.

  “Yes. Ash confessed that he had agreed to a betrothal between his oldest son Bolt and Synge’s unborn daughter,” a deeper, rougher voice answered.

  “A certain maneuver for power.”

  “Undoubtedly.” There was the sound of footsteps, as if the larger dragon was pacing from one end of the room to the other. “Logic would demand he challenge me for my seat on the Council. I am in the weakest position.”

  “I have heard rumors that Synge has quietly started to return the bulk of his warriors to the lair.”

  Char grimaced as a blast of heat managed to sear through the wall. The dragon might be the weakest member of the Council, but that meant he was still mightier than ninety-nine percent of all other dragons.

  “That’s what I feared,” he growled. “Synge will make his challenge as soon as the babe is born.”

  “You are certain it will not be before?”

  “Ash is a cautious dragon. He will not complete the betrothal contract until the baby is born and pronounced an untainted pureblood.”

  Char arched a brow. He’d never heard that babies were tested for the purity of their blood. It had to be a secret dragon thing that wasn’t shared with half-breeds like him.

  “You should strike now,” the first dragon encouraged.

  “No.” More heat blasted through the air. Char felt sweat dripping down his spine. “If there is an attempt to kill Synge or Ravel the blame will naturally be placed on me.”

  “True.” There was a short pause. “So what is your plan?”

  “I intend to destroy any hope of Synge using his daughter as a bargaining tool to empower his clan. Indeed, I hope I can crush any ambition he might harbor.”

  “How?”

  The larger dragon chuckled. The sound echoed eerily through the narrow space where Char was hiding.

  “The seed of my destruction has just arrived,” he said.

  Seed of destruction? Char would have laughed at the melodramatic words if he wasn’t struck by a sudden fear.

  The bastard had to be talking about the curse. What better means of wounding Synge than forcing him to agree to a death sentence for his only daughter?

  It was cunning. And utterly evil.

  “Where?” the lesser dragon demanded.

  “The servants’ quarters.”

  “How…” The dragon’s words trailed away. “Ah. He is a member of Synge’s household staff?”

  Another creepy-ass chuckle. “A trusted member.”

  “You are a devious dragon, Magma.”

  “Which is why I am a member of the Council. And why I will remain a member,” the larger dragon declared in harsh tones. “Now we need to return to the gathering. I cannot risk attracting attention by my absence.”

  There was the sound of footsteps, then a door opening and closing. Char barely noticed. Instead he was tucking the name Magma into the back of his mind. He was going to hunt the dragon down and kill him, he silently promised himself.

  He didn’t know how. Not yet. But it was going to happen.

  But first he had to discover the identity of the treacherous servant who intended to curse Blayze.

  ***

  Levet used his mental connection with Tayla to request a portal to Synge’s lair.

  Seconds later, he was stepping out of the gateway along with Vex to discover the golden-haired imp standing at the opening to the lair with a worried expression.

  “Vex, this is Tayla.” He made the introduction with a wave of his hand.

  Tayla offered the succubus a strained smile. “Thank you so much for agreeing to help.”

  Vex shrugged. “I owe Levet,” she said. “He rescued me from a pack of hobgoblins who were planning to sell me to the slavers.”

  Tayla sent Levet a fond glance. “We all owe Levet,” she murmured in soft tones. Levet preened. It was true. He was a hero to countless females. But before he could fully savor the praise, Tayla was turning her attention to the reason that Vex was there. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “I need something that can connect me with the missing dragon,” Vex told her.

  Tayla stepped back, waving them into the lair. “This way.”

  They moved through the web of corridors, the silence in the lair an oppressive force. No doubt everyone was busy preparing for war.

  Not the most pleasant thought.

  Disturbed by the ominous atmosphere, it took several minutes for Levet to finally notice Vex’s rigid tension as she walked beside him.

  He frowned. Vex had been quick to agree to his request for her assistance. But now he sensed that she was regretting her choice.

  “Is something wrong, ma belle?” he asked.

  Vex wrapped her arms around her waist as a shiver shook her body. “It has been a long time since I was in a dragon’s lair.”

  Levet arched his brows. “I did not know you were ever in one.”

  She hunched a shoulder, her golden eyes dark with an ancient pain. “My mother bartered me to a harem when I was kicked out of the Guild.”

  Tayla glanced over her shoulder with a sympathetic expression. “Why would your mother kick you out of the Guild?”

  “Because I’m a succubus who doesn’t feed on or control others with sex,” Vex admitted.

  Tayla blinked. “Then how do you feed?”

  “I can absorb mental energy.”

  Tayla looked predictably confused, but before Vex could answer, Levet jumped into the conversation.

  “You should see her. Mon dieu, it is magnificent. She can go into a demon’s mind and suck up all the buzzy stuff.”

  Tayla blinked. “Buzzy stuff?”

  Levet waved his hand. “You know, the energy that zaps through our heads. And when she is in there she can control a creature’s mind.”

  Tayla glanced toward Vex. “Is that true?”

  Vex nodded. “Pretty much. I feed on the electricity that is generated by a demon’s brain, and I can use my powers to control that demon’s mind for a limited time.”

  “So you’re a cerebral succubus,” Tayla said.

  Vex looked momentarily shocked, as if she’d never thought about her gift in those terms. Then without warning she tilted back her head to release a deep belly laugh.

  “I suppose that’s true,” Vex agreed, a portion of her tension easing.

  They turned into the corridor that led to Synge’s private quarters. Torches flickered, revealing the elaborate tapestries that hung on the walls.

  “How did you escape the harem?” Levet demanded.

  The warm scent of cherries spiced the air. “A male dragon bought my contract and released me.”

  Levet sent Vex a startled glance. Dragons weren’t known for their generous natures. If a male used a part of his precious hoard to buy a beautiful female, it wasn’t just to release her.

  That was how Tayla had ended up a prisoner to Baine, although she now claimed that she was happy to be his slave. Or mate, as she preferred to be called.

  A pity. But not every creature could have the exquisite taste to choose a gargoyle as their lover.

  “Did you barter for your freedom?” he asked Vex.

  Color touched her cheeks. Was she blushing?

  “He offered to claim me as his mate.”

  Levet widened his eyes in shock. “You are mated to a dragon?”

  She gave a slow
shake of her head. “No. He disappeared before we could complete the mating.”

  Levet sensed the deep sadness that always lurked beneath Vex’s kick-ass exterior. He had assumed that it was because she had been evicted from the Guild. He knew from painful experience that it was a wound that never truly healed. But now he realized that she’d had more than one betrayal in her life.

  “How does a dragon disappear?” he demanded.

  Vex’s features abruptly hardened, but she couldn’t disguise her lingering pain. “He clearly decided that I was unworthy.”

  Levet reached out to lightly touch her arm. “You are more worthy than any stupid dragon. Do not let the idiot make you turquoise.”

  Vex forced a smile to her lips. “Blue. Make you blue.”

  Levet wrinkled his snout. “Turquoise is blue, is it not?”

  Tayla interrupted their conversation as she pulled open a heavy door and ushered them into the bedchamber.

  “This is where Blayze was last seen,” the imp said, pointing toward the bed. “She was lying there.”

  Vex nodded, moving forward to perch on the edge of the bed.

  “Okay,” she said. “Let’s do this.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Char paused to smooth the short strands of his hair and to ensure that there was no dust clinging to his clothing before he returned to the throne room. Then he forced himself to count to one hundred.

  He’d learned from a young age that dragons missed nothing. Even if they acted like they were entirely focused on Synge and his mate, Ravel, not one of them was blind to what was happening in the room behind them.

  Including the fact that Magma had disappeared and recently returned.

  The last thing he wanted was the dragon’s return to be associated with his own.

  Finally, he casually strolled through the doorway and along the edge of the crowd. He kept his gaze lowered as was expected for a mere half-breed, and used his sense of smell to direct him to Blayze.

  Not that he actually needed her scent.

  There was something deep inside him that would always pull him to her side. Like a homing pigeon.

  A terrifying realization—that was tucked in the back of his head along with all the other terrifying realizations. Eventually they were going to cause a blockage in his brain, but until then he could pretend he didn’t know they were there.

  Halting next to Blayze, he offered a proper nod of his head.

  Not that Blayze was equally discreet. Instead of treating him with the appropriate disdain that most dragons offered their servants, she reached to grasp his forearm, pulling him closer.

  “You discovered something,” she said, the words more a statement than a question.

  Char grimaced. “So much for my poker face.”

  She furrowed her brow. “Poker face?”

  “Never mind.”

  “What did you learn?” she pressed.

  Char cast a covert glance around the swelling crowd. It seemed impossible to believe that they could stuff additional guests in the room without the floor collapsing.

  There was no way to speak without someone overhearing them. Plus, the air was becoming uncomfortably hot. A danger when you had too many dragons squashed into the same space.

  “Let’s get a breath of fresh air.”

  Her lips parted, as if she was going to demand an immediate explanation. Then, seeming to realize there was no way to have a private conversation surrounded by so many demons, she gave a small nod. “We can return to my nursery.”

  He allowed her to usher him from the room, his head once again lowered as they left the throne room and walked down the corridor. He remained silent until they at last entered the room where they’d first arrived. He hadn’t forgotten how easily they’d overheard the conversations between the two female dragons who’d been walking down this same hallway.

  Once inside the room, he shut the door and headed toward the back wall.

  “What are you doing?” Blayze demanded.

  “I need to make sure there aren’t any tunnels behind the walls.”

  “There’s no need,” she assured him.

  He turned, his heart skipping a beat as he caught sight of her luminous glow in the dark room. By the goddess. She was so lovely. Like an angel.

  Well, an angel who could breathe fire and kick the ass of nearly every other demon in the universe.

  “How can you be sure?” he asked.

  She waved a hand. “Just beyond this room is my father’s hoard.”

  He was about to point out that his hoard might have been in a different area of the lair during this time period, only to snap his lips shut. Now that he actually paid attention to his surroundings, he could feel the heavy throb of magic that pulsed through the air. It was far enough away that it wasn’t an in-your-face punch of power, but he sensed he wouldn’t have to walk very far down the corridor to hit a wall of magic.

  “No wonder your father chose this spot for your nursery,” he said, crossing the floor to stand in front of Blayze. His hand reached to brush a strand of her ebony hair behind her ear. “He must have assumed that it was the safest place in the entire lair.”

  She stilled, her eyes vibrant with pinpricks of color. Heat seared through the air, sizzling over Char’s skin. At the same time the scent of exotic spices teased at his nose. But even as his gaze dropped to the plush temptation of her lips, she was taking a tiny step backward.

  “Tell me what you discovered,” she said.

  Char clenched his teeth. His dragon roared deep inside him. It was becoming almost impossible to keep his beast restrained. Only the knowledge that Blayze’s enemies were lurking just beyond the closed door allowed him to battle through the sharp-edged hunger that threatened to cloud his mind.

  That and the knowledge that Synge would roast him alive if he discovered that Char was aching to kiss her from the top of her head to the tips of her tiny toes.

  “The dragons I followed are plotting against your father,” he finally managed to say.

  “Why?”

  “Because Magma fears that Synge intends to challenge him for his seat on the Council.”

  She gave a slow nod, as if she’d already suspected what he was going to say.

  “Do you recognize Magma?” she asked.

  “No. I had limited contact with the Dragon Council. When I was in the service of my father, and then Synge, I was kept in the servants’ quarters,” he said. “And after I was sent to Baine we spent most of our time searching the various dimensions for rare manuscripts. He had no interest in the constant power struggles between dragon clans.”

  Baine’s lack of ambition had been shocking to Char, who’d been sired by a dragon who lusted after power. And it’d taken Char several years to truly believe that Baine was more interested in learning than collecting a vast hoard.

  Over the centuries, however, Char had developed a deep respect for his master’s cunning. Baine might not seek power or riches, but his vast knowledge of the various worlds and the creatures that inhabited them made him a formidable adversary.

  “What does Magma intend to do to my father?” Blayze asked.

  “Not your father.” He held her gaze. “You.”

  She stiffened. “The curse.”

  Char grimaced. “He didn’t say it in those words, but he made it clear that he intended to distract your father by hurting his daughter as soon as she was born.”

  Her jaw clenched, but there wasn’t any hint of fear on her beautiful face. Instead, her features hardened as she abruptly pivoted on her heel. “Then I’ll kill him.”

  Char reached out to grasp her arm, gently turning her back to face him.

  “Hold on, sweetheart,” he murmured.

  She blinked. “Sweetheart?”

  He ignored her surprise at the endearment. What could he say? That he wanted to call her sweetheart, and baby, and darling, and all those other silly names that he used to make fun of males for saying?

  “First we
need to find the servant who has the curse,” he said, well aware that his words would distract her.

  He was right.

  She was instantly focused on his revelation. “Magma used his servant to bring the curse into the lair?”

  “Not one of his servants,” he corrected. “He used one of your father’s servants.”

  Her eyes widened, her breath hissing between her clenched teeth. “That’s why my mother couldn’t discover who was responsible. No one would suspect that it could be a member of my father’s household. Not when they must know that he would destroy them if he discovered the truth.” She gave a disbelieving shake of her head. It was rare to find anyone stupid enough to betray a pureblood dragon. “We need to get to the servants’ quarters.”

  Char scowled. “Not we.” His fingers tightened on her arm. “Me.”

  She narrowed her opal eyes. “Can you sense the curse?”

  “No, but I can…” He considered the proper word. Torture. Rampage. Brutalize. “Encourage the servants to tell me who the traitor is.”

  She snorted. “My way is faster.”

  He shrugged. He couldn’t argue, but that didn’t mean he was going to allow her to waltz into danger. “My way is safer.”

  Her expression tensed. Not with anger. But with something that was perilously close to disappointment.

  “My mother nearly smothered me with her need to protect me,” she said in soft tones. “I won’t be caged again.”

  His heart dropped to his toes. He had a vivid memory of walking into this precise room when Synge had commanded he protect his daughter.

  Blayze had been lying unconscious on the bed, wrapped in magic that was meant to protect her. She’d been pale, and as still as death. A prisoner in her own mind.

  It was an image he never, ever wanted to see again.

  He heaved an unsteady sigh. “You’re killing me,” he muttered.

  She reached up to lightly touch his face. “I’m sorry.”

  It was her touch that did it.

  He’d been behaving. Hell, he’d practically been a saint. What other dragon could have resisted the urge to strip off her sparkly gown and breathe fire over her luminous flesh?

  Now his hands reached to cup her face as his head lowered. He pressed his lips against her soft mouth. Passion blasted through him. Immediate, white-hot and shockingly vast.