by Olivia Ash
“Why would you kill Garrett over a business deal?” Jace sneers as he throws Drew onto the ground. “Tell me why. Does life mean so little to you?”
“No,” Drew says, rolling out of the way as Jace’s fist hits hard against the black stone, cracking it. “I did what I had to do to protect my family,” Drew snaps.
With my heart practically in my throat, I lean forward, on edge.
Just tell him, I think to myself.
“That wasn’t protection,” Jace sneers as he throws another punch. “That was murder, and you know it.”
His blows are crippling and lightning-fast, but Drew manages to duck out of the way each time, just seconds before getting nailed in the face.
“You just didn’t like the fact that you might not get your way,” Jace continues, seething. “Darringtons are vile, selfish bastards. All of you.”
“I never wanted that damn business deal at all,” Drew says, parrying another one of Jace’s blows. “Milo’s pride drove us out there. Jett’s approval means so much to that idiot that I had no choice.”
Say it, I think. Tell him the truth.
Fast as lightning, Jace kicks out Drew’s knee. Drew falls to the ground, grimacing even as he tries to roll out of the way, but Jace is just a hair faster. The dojo master wraps his arm around Drew’s throat, grabbing him in a headlock and pinning him in place.
“You won’t just leave,” the dojo master seethes. “No, you won’t just go away. You insist on being a daily reminder of everything I lost even as I try to start over and move on. I’ve had to battle my hatred for you every day since I lost Garrett. Every damn day,” Jace says, lost in his anger. “All I wanted was justice and revenge, and I never got it all because a Darrington royal killed my brother. You got away with murder.” Jace pauses, letting the words sink in. “Again.”
“All I want is to move on, Jace,” Drew says, choking slightly as Jace’s arm tightens against his windpipe.
I want to dive between them. I want to stop this. It takes everything in my power not to, but I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.
Drew looks at me, struggling to breathe, and I can tell he’s debating. He’s trying to figure out what he wants to do, what matters to him most.
I swallow hard and force myself to keep my mouth shut.
Drew, please! I think, wishing he could hear me.
Jace summons magic into his free hand and lifts it above Drew. The dojo master’s gaze never leaves the back of Drew’s head as he tightens his grip with each passing second, cutting off more and more of Drew’s air.
It looks like this might be the end. The final blow of the battle.
Just as Jace summons his magic, I summon mine.
No matter the outcome, no matter what I lose, I cannot let either of these men die.
Jace is so lost in his anger that he doesn’t notice me. Sparks burn along his arm as the last bit of his magic floats into his hand.
“At least I’ll finally get a bit of justice,” he says, gritting his teeth.
He looks resolved and absolutely certain of what he’s about to do.
As am I.
Before either Jace or I can do anything, however, Drew stands with an earth-shattering groan of effort and pain. As he forces himself to his feet, he twists his body, giving everything he has into the maneuver and throws Jace off of him.
Jace staggers, hands lifted, still burning with magic, but Drew kicks him hard in the chest. Jace falls backward, rolling away—and just like that, the tide has turned again in the fight.
“I didn’t kill him!” Drew shouts into the mostly empty courtyard.
I stiffen, and beside me, so does Levi.
Yes, I think to myself. Fucking finally.
“What?” Jace asks in disbelief. He stands, his hands balled into fists as he glares at Drew. “I saw you do it, you lying sack of—”
“No, you saw Milo and Garrett attack each other!” Drew snaps, pacing back and forth and utterly lost in his anger and adrenaline. “You saw Milo losing. You saw me rush to my idiot brother’s rescue. And I assume you saw flames after that.”
“Yes,” Jace says, his voice breaking as he watches Drew with a combination of hatred and earth-shattering grief. “You burned him to ash. There was nothing left to even bury!”
“It wasn’t me,” Drew admits, pausing with his hands on his hips. He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. “It was Milo. My fire was aimed at my stupid brother, to stop him. It would have knocked him out, and you and I could have retreated. You and I could have made a truce. But no, I wasn’t fast enough.” Drew sighs, the sound laden with frustration and regret as he runs his hands through his hair. “I wanted to end the fight that had already cost a dozen lives. I wasn’t trying to make it worse.”
Jace is still as a stone, his full and furious gaze focused on Drew. It’s like he’s fighting something internally, like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing even as it starts to make sense.
“I couldn’t comprehend what he’d done,” Drew admits, rubbing his jaw. “Garrett was a hero, a man even I respected. We’d met on the field half a dozen times, back in the days before Jett made Milo the general.” Drew’s shoulders relax, and I can all but see him surrendering to the truth.
Finally.
“But you admitted to it!” Jace snaps.
“I didn’t deny it,” Drew corrects, glaring at Jace. “You wanted so badly to hate someone that you heard what you wanted to hear. The Darringtons get away with murder, yet again. That’s what you said. Those big bad brutal bastards, right? The world believed it. You just needed somebody to blame. You just like hating us. You want to. It makes the grief easier to bear.”
“You make it easy to hate you,” Jace says, wrinkling his nose in loathing.
Drew shakes his head, like Jace just hasn’t figured it out yet. “Your hate gives us power, damn it!” The Darrington dragon takes a few furious steps closer to Jace. “How have none of you figured this out, yet? The more you all hate us, the more we get away with. The more injustice there is, the more people fear us. That’s what Jett has always wanted, and everyone has always played right into his hands.”
“If that’s true, why lie?” Jace’s back arches as he gestures toward the clouds above us. “There’s no reason to lie at that point. Milo is still a royal. He still would have gotten away with it. Nothing would have changed.”
Drew scoffs. “Everything would be entirely different, and you know it. Milo’s a politician, not a fighter. The Fairfax dragons respect warriors, not statesmen. You don’t fear him. You fear war with Jett.” Drew pauses. “You fear war with me.”
Jace lifts his chin in defiance, but he doesn’t deny it.
Drew slowly nods. “It’s why Jett wants me to go back. He’s seen his mistake with Milo. It took longer than I expected, which makes me wonder if this was all a bluff on his part, some failed manipulation tactic to get me to act the way he wanted me to act. He knows Milo will never be a true Darrington Boss and never show up in a way that honors Jett’s legacy. He made a prideful mistake trying to pit me and Milo against each other, all because he assumed I gave a shit.” Drew laughs humorlessly. “But I couldn’t care less. I don’t want to sit in a capital building, making decrees all day long.”
Drew’s gaze drifts toward me, and he pauses. I can practically hear all the things he wants to say, all the things he wants out of life. Instead, he simply closes his mouth and sucks in a deep breath, watching me all the while.
Jace rubs the back of his head, pacing a little as he tries to calm down. “So, Milo killed Garrett?”
Drew nods.
“And you let us believe it was you?” Jace continued, his gaze focused on the Darrington heir in front of us. “You faced the wrath of every living Fairfax dragon, including the Boss herself,” Jace pauses, almost in disbelief. “All to protect your brother’s life?”
Drew hesitates, like he’s trying to decide if this is a trick question. After a moment, with his hands on his
hips, he nods again.
Jace shakes his head in disbelief. “That’s—”
“Stupid?” Drew glares at Jace, daring the dojo master to insult him. “Foolish? Moronic?”
“Noble,” Jace says, his tone genuinely baffled that a Darrington could act in such a way.
Drew takes a step back in surprise, his frown dissolving as his brows lift in mild shock.
“You sacrificed everything to protect family,” Jace says, briefly glancing at me. “I didn’t think you were capable of that, Drew.”
Drew frowns, tilting his head slightly as he watches the dojo master. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”
“Almost,” Jace admits quietly. He sets his hands on his head and turns his back to us, his shoulders heaving as he finally starts to catch his breath.
He’s processing.
Drew looks at me like he’s asking me to step in, to maybe back him up.
Instead, I tilt my head gently toward Jace, urging Drew to finish this. He hates feelings, sure, but he’s just going to have to suck it up and get to it.
Quickly.
Drew frowns in irritation that I’m making him do this, but he lets out a resigned groan and rubs his jaw as he dives in. “Jace, look, I’m not one for words or apologies, but I can only imagine what you dealt with. The hate that brewed for so long with no way to burn it off. I’m…” Drew trails off, pinching his eyes shut as he braces himself for what he’s about to say. “I’m sorry.”
Jace turns around abruptly, eyes narrowing in disbelief as he stares at the fire dragon. “Say that again.”
Drew scowls, and I know that expression. He’s telling Jace not to be such an asshole. The Darrington dragon looks at me again for support, but I just shake my head and gesture again toward Jace, urging Drew to finish what he started.
Drew rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry. For all you endured so that I could keep my idiot brother alive.”
Jace’s entire body relaxes, and it looks for all the world like a heavy weight just lifted off his shoulders. He stares off at the forest beyond the walls through the main gate. After a moment or two of silence, he returns his attention toward us.
Toward Drew. And he looks at the man without even a hint of irritation.
“I see why you did it,” Jace admits. “You were keeping your brother safe. You were doing something I couldn’t do. Something I failed at, a failure I’ve regretted every day since.” He sighs. “I don’t think we’re that different after all, Darrington.”
Drew playfully grins and mockingly sets a hand on his heart. “How dare you insult me, sir.”
Jace laughs, and I almost can’t believe what I’m watching.
For a moment, nothing happens. The two men stand on opposite sides of the courtyard, not quite sure what to do next. But then, as Levi and I wait in the silence, they walk toward each other and shake hands.
I let out a slow breath of relief.
“You’re still an asshole though,” Jace says, raising one eyebrow as if daring Drew to deny it.
Drew laughs and wipes a bit of blood from his jaw. “That’s fair.”
“Truce?” Jace asks.
Drew nods. “Truce.”
I smile, admiring them for how far they’ve come, and my body finally relaxes. What a relief.
They walk toward me and Levi, and all I can do is look happily between the two of them. I’m not sure what to say or, for that matter, what comes next after a fight like that.
I don’t get the chance to ask.
As they reach us, Jace pulls me toward him and kisses me fiercely. As his lips press against mine, I hear Levi chuckle. I can imagine him rolling his eyes and grinning, and as I take a peek out of the corner of my eye, I see him doing exactly that.
Drew laughs. “Get a room.”
“That’s doable,” Jace says, and before I can do a thing, throws me over his shoulder, carrying me back up the steps and into the embassy. I shake my head, laughing as I blow a goodbye kiss at Levi and Drew before they disappear from view.
It’s a little disorienting to go through the embassy backward, and for a moment, I’m not sure where we are as Jace takes us down a side hallway. Seconds later, however, he puts me on my feet.
Without a word of warning, Jace presses my hips against the wall and kisses me fiercely, his warm lips buzzing with need. My body burns for him, aching to complete the bond we’ve refused to indulge.
Well, I’d say it’s time to indulge.
He pauses and holds the side of my head, his stormy eyes watching me as he smiles softly. “Do you want this? Me? I’m an imperfect jackass, but I’ll love you and be by your side until the bitter end.”
“Maybe,” I say with a playful grin. “If you truly see me as your equal. None of that stow-me-away bullshit.”
“I’ll never so much as think about it again,” he promises.
“Then yes.” I grab his shoulders, the muscle hard beneath my palms, and pull him into a rough kiss. He gives in, igniting the deepest fires of lust and love burning at my core.
My thunderbird.
He’s finally mine.
Jace growls possessively, his grip on my waist sliding up toward my breasts. “As much as I want to rip off your clothes and take you right now, we have to wait.” He gently bites my neck, barely able to contain his primal need. “The dojo master cannot have a mate, and the moment I enter you, the mate-bond is complete. I have to find my replacement first before we can take this all the way.”
My hips tilt toward him as I ache to have him inside of me, and I bite my lip to stem the rising tide of desire that swirls through my chest. “You tease.”
“I can, however, help you blow off a little steam.” He says, grinning mischievously.
With that, he grabs my jaw and kisses me deeply. The powerful, possessive movement stokes the craving deep within my soul for him, and the warm between my thighs only builds.
I need him.
Now.
Deep within my body, at the source of my power and magic, I can feel my dragon stir at his touch. At the shift in him. In us. She’s louder this time, and I can practically feel her pressing against me like a bird trying to break out of an egg.
It freaking hurts.
I gasp, holding my hand to my chest as a second ripple of pain shoots through me. My heart stutters, and just like that, all is calm once again.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, brows furrowed with concern. His fingertips brush aside a lock of my hair so that he can see my face, and as his skin brushes mine, my dragon pushes against my very soul.
As another blast of pain shoots through me, I realize what this is.
It’s—it’s Jace.
She’s reacting to him.
His touch alone nearly helped her break free.
I knew he had power over my dragon and my magic, but this is something else entirely. Something new. Letting down my guard, giving in to him—it gave me access to her in new ways, and deep in my bones, I can tell he somehow makes me even more powerful.
“I think I nearly shifted, just then,” I say breathlessly, my hand still on my chest. “It—damn it, that hurt, Jace.”
“The first time is incredibly painful,” he admits, brushing his lips against my forehead tenderly. “I can tell you’re close. Even I could feel that one. We’ll have to practice more,” he adds with a dashing smile as his eyes wander over my breasts. “It seems like the more intimate we get, the closer you are to a shift, so I’m more than happy to do my part.”
“Oh gods.” I grin. “You’re going to be insufferable without the dojo as a distraction, aren’t you?”
“Oh, you have no idea,” he replies, smirking as he loops a strand of my hair around his finger. “You’re going to need all the luck you’ve got to deal with me.”
Chapter Twenty
It's not until the next morning that the nurses finally let me see Irena and Tucker.
As I walk through the hallway of the medic ward, nurses and doctors buzz around
the corridors, ducking in and out of rooms as they flip through papers on their clipboards and scribble notes across the pages. Barely anyone recognizes or addresses me, and the general hum in the air is one of overpowering urgency.
Every room is full. Some of them have two or three beds despite the small space, and most have the curtains drawn across the windows on the far wall. Heart rate monitors beep, getting louder and softer as I pass each door.
A nurse charges out of the nearest door I'm about to pass, and I barely duck out of her way before the two of us collide. If she notices me at all, she doesn't say a thing or look my way.
I don't take it personally. These brave shifters have been up all night, tending to the wounded, and all I have for them is gratitude. These people saved my sister and one of the men I love most in the world. I owe them, pure and simple.
I scan the room numbers beside each door, looking for either 17 or 20. Surprisingly, I come across Room 20 first and duck my head in to find Irena lying flat on a gurney with her head on a pillow. Her eyes are shut, her chest falling and raising in a soothing rhythm as light streams in through the open window beside her.
My heart pangs impulsively at the calm expression on her face because it reminds me far too much of how she looked when she was in a coma. I have to force myself to notice the warm tone to her skin, the calm and steady pattern of her breath.
She's not in a coma. She's just asleep. She's just healing.
As I hover by the door, one of the nurses darts inside, flipping through the pages on her clipboard. Her red hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and she doesn't so much as look my way as she gets to work checking the various machines and IV drips around Irena's bed.
“Will she wake up soon?” I ask the nurse.
The nurse flinches like she genuinely hadn't realized I was there and holds her hand to her chest as she tries to catch her breath. “I'm sorry, Miss Quinn. I didn't see you.”
“It's fine,” I say with a small smile, pointing again to my sister. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Yeah, she's a fighter,” the nurse says with a nod.
I chuckle. Talk about an understatement.
