Though there had been something in his eyes when she decked him outside of Vermillion. Something not quite right. She had known he was behind her, but to find him so close had been a shock.
Her reaction had been purely instinct when she punched him. Though after he landed on the ground, all she could do was stare. Her racing heart missed a beat at the intense, dark-blue eyes staring back at her. An inferno of heat sizzled through her, akin to what she’d felt that day so long ago in the witch circle.
It had been stupid to hit a dragon shifter, never mind a Thorn brother. But what should she have done?
Tirah wanted to groan at how disappointed she’d been that he didn’t immediately follow her when she took off. I must be out of my mind.
Tirah looked at her dagger and frowned. Maybe Dreads really didn’t see her as a threat. Tirah knew she didn’t look like much, and he didn’t know that she’d gone through the rigorous training of all elite Ilyium soldiers. Or that she’d come out on top.
Tirah eyed the large upright food cooler, then glanced at the corridor her kidnapper had disappeared through. What is Dreads doing? She shrugged. He did tell her to help herself to food and drink. Opening the double doors, she studied the contents and snorted. Typical male.
Tirah set her dagger on the counter, grabbed the cheese wheel, a large chunk of meat covered in cheesecloth, and then closed the door. The only other item in the cooler was ale, and that didn’t interest her.
Setting everything beside her dagger, Tirah peeled back the skin on the cheese wheel and growled. Only a tiny slice was left. Then she unwrapped the meat. The bone was massive, yet the amount of edible meat was almost nothing.
With a sigh, Tirah walked over and opened the dry-goods pantry. A moment later she closed the door. She quickly located a drinking jar and plate. She poured some water into the jar from the tap and drank it down, then guzzled another full jar before refilling it. With her dagger, she cut the rest of the cheese off the wheel and shaved the remaining meat off the bone.
While she nibbled, trying to make the cheese and meat last, she kept glancing in the direction her captor had disappeared. What was he doing? Happy to be away from his domineering presence, she found herself also a little disappointed for some reason. With an annoyed snarl, she picked up her plate, water, and pack, then walked over to the living area.
Recessed shelves built into the rock wall held swords, knives, a very ancient book that was bound in leather, some beautiful goblets, a decanter, and bottles of various shapes and sizes.
The fireplace appeared to be natural, with a couple logs waiting to be used.
Tirah admired the large plush couch in bright red that formed a horseshoe. Opposite were two smaller love seats in the same color. They all had huge black-and-grey pillows strewn here and there, some even on the floor, and they looked incredibly comfortable.
Tirah chose the horseshoe couch and sat down with a sigh. She’d been going for days, through one portal to another, trying to get back to Tartaria and find out what happened to her brother. She glanced at the plate on her lap and realized just how sore and tired she was. After she finished the tiny bit of meat and cheese, she reached over and pulled her pack close, then dug through it, searching for the food she’d bought earlier.
With a huff, Tirah set her pack aside. Though she knew better, part of her hoped she’d stashed her food in her pack. Obviously, she hadn’t. Which meant that when the other dragon shifter grabbed her, he’d knocked it from her hands. On the verge of tears, Tirah went over everything that had happened.
She should have stayed far away from Tartaria.
Yet she needed to find out what happened to her brother.
Weary, she laid her head back, and in seconds sleep took her.
Tirah awoke, heart pounding until she realized she was still alone, then wondered how long she’d been asleep.
She leaned back again and squinted, trying to see through the small window above her. She ached to see the stars, but even with her keen eyesight it was too far up and the glass too thick. Setting the plate on the end table beside the couch, she rose to her feet. Then realizing she’d left the dagger on the counter, she retrieved it.
Why had Dreads just left her here? Wasn’t he worried about what she might do? Tirah took in the room. What could she really do? Deciding to check out the rest of the place, she cautiously made her way into the corridor where her captor had disappeared. As she walked, little lights came on, illuminating the way. Tirah rounded the corner and entered the first cavern she came to. She grinned with relief. It was a bathing room. There was a huge shower, a large tub, a toilet, and a sink.
After using the facilities, Tirah continued her search, growing even more curious. The next cave was a smaller office. She could almost imagine seeing her mysteriously sexy captor sitting behind the large mahogany desk. As she moved down the corridor, and into each room, lights came on and reflected off the sparkling walls. A few of the rooms were empty, making her wonder what they were for. Then she came to the library and stopped. Completely stunned, she stared. This was the last thing she’d expected to find.
After making sure the chamber was empty, Tirah walked in and checked out all the books. They’d obviously been collected from different worlds. Some were very old, though all appeared to have been well read. Surprised they weren’t just for display, she wondered how old Dreads was.
Tirah left the library and passed additional empty chambers. The whole place, while exquisite, felt unbearably lonely. Tirah reached the last two doors, one on each side of the corridor, and frowned. In front of her was a smooth, dark wall that didn’t mesh with the rest of the place. Tirah contemplated it. Suddenly the glittering wall wavered. Tirah blinked and focused on a single jewel. The whole thing solidified. What the—? She reached out to touch, when a shiver of dread repelled her. She snatched her hand back. Strange.
With a frown, she turned to the chamber on her left. A faint tingle of magic slid over her. It felt similar to the ward at the waterfall, though not nearly as strong. Tirah stuck her hand out, prepared to be shocked or repelled, but other than a soothing balm, it didn’t do anything. Slowly, she eased through and around the corner. Tirah pulled up sharply when she realized she was in the master bedroom. Two doors led to other rooms. Likely a closet and a bathing room, she thought, and noticed two more sky windows high above her. Then the sound of breathing drew her to the massive bed where her captor lay sound asleep.
Tirah studied him, liking all the wild, kinky-twisted hair. She even liked his neatly trimmed beard that still showed off his firm jaw. And his lips … They would make a female very happy. His chest rose and fell. When he didn’t wake, she inched a little closer. His eyes were closed, and she almost wished they weren’t. Then she wanted to slap herself. What in all the worlds is wrong with me? He wants to kill me. Yet the memory of the intensity in his eyes sent heat slithering throughout her whole body.
She glanced at the dagger in her hand. Do it, the voice inside her commanded.
Chapter Twenty-One
Kill or Not
Tirah stared at Dreads. It would be so very easy to reach out and slit his throat, or … would it? She remembered what she’d been taught. Dragon shifters were not supposed to be easy to kill. Normally you had to remove their heart and head. The only reason that female dragon shifter had been taken down so easily was because of the witch circle. It wasn’t an easy circle to raise, and it took the blood of the Ilyium—mixed with two other supernatural beings of power. Where Captayen had gotten that, she had no idea, but Mihel later said he heard her superior had used Elvren and Nightwalker blood. She veered away from all thoughts of how they’d accomplished that.
Tirah moved closer until she was almost on top of her captor. She raised her dagger and held it ready, expecting his eyes to open at any moment. Shouldn’t Dreads have sensed her? When he didn’t move, she lowered her weapon. Even if she killed him, what if he had spoken the truth? What if she was wrong and the ward at the
entrance really was impassible? She’d be trapped in here. Besides, if she only wounded him, it would likely piss him off. Maybe make him kill her before she could figure out how to escape.
With a deep swallow, she drank in one last look and left him alone. Back in the living area, she grabbed the blanket off the farthest arm of the couch and smiled at how soft the material was. Then she lay down and snuggled beneath it.
When she awoke the next day, Tirah let her senses feel all around, seeking any sign of movement. The only life force she touched was Dreads, who still slept.
Once again, she peered up through the sky window, and seeing daylight, thought about her brother. She needed to get out of here and on her way to meet him. But how? Even if she made it through the waterfall, there was no way she could climb down.
Eventually, her stomach growled. She rose and went over to the kitchen. After drinking some water, Tirah wandered to the library. She searched the shelves and found a book to read. It wasn’t long before her stomach protested. Tirah went back to the kitchen and opened the dry goods cupboard once again. Saygen flour, Elmondy nuts, and Nectorcombs were all that lined the shelves.
Tirah closed the door. Armed with her dagger, she made her way back to Dreads. She hadn’t been expecting him to sleep so long. What is wrong with him? Surely he hadn’t gone into hibernation or something, had he? Again, the magic tingled over her skin as she passed through the doorway, though it felt good. Then she crept around the corner and peered into his room.
Judging by his sweat-soaked clothing and covers strewn everywhere, he’d had a rough night. Good, she thought, and then felt bad for being mean. Girl, what in Hades is wrong with you? He’s planning to kill you. Tirah watched his chest rise and fall before leaving again.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sound Asleep
Saber dreamed he was stuck in the scorching pits of Hades, searching endlessly for Adarias. Vile smelling demons grabbed and pulled at him, their claws digging and tearing his flesh from his body. Finally, a female who smelled like honeysuckle, pulled him from the fiery depths. She stood over him with a dagger. Watching. Gauging him. The dream quickly evolved to him ripping her clothing off and tasting every inch of her lush body, as he claimed her for his own.
It was late afternoon when Saber finally opened his eyes. Wincing at the pain still in his head, he sat up and groaned. Then he sniffed the air. Besides the stench of his own sweat, the sweet smell of honeysuckle reached him, along with another scent. Nostalgia swept him at the fresh, sweet aroma of baking that drifted through the air. It reminded him of when his mother and sisters used to bake.
What in all the realms is she up to?
He thought of taking a shower and cleaning up, then changed his mind and shifted into a half-form, then back into human-form. Never so happy with the ability to shift back clean and clothed, he was about to leave his room, when he glanced around and frowned.
The scent of honeysuckle was strong, as if she’d been here. Scowling, Saber walked over to the door and checked his warding. He let out a low growl. I must’ve been really out of it to have done such a piss-poor job. He was lucky she hadn’t come in and cut his heart out. The condition he’d been in, he wouldn’t have been able to protect himself.
Furious with his stupidity, Saber made his way to the kitchen, pulling up at the sight of his captive baking something … There was a dusting of flour on her nose and cheek that was endearing. Saber pushed the feeling away. Then his stomach growled, reminding him he’d not eaten in days. “What are you doing?”
At his words, the female jumped and dropped the baking slab and its contents on the counter, singeing her finger. “Ow! Damn,” she hissed.
Saber narrowed his gaze on her scarred finger, then met the fiery eyes glaring at him.
“I was hungry.”
Saber frowned and went over to the pantry. He noted the bare shelves, shut the door, and went to the food cooler. Yup, she was right, there was nothing much here. Closing the door, Saber rubbed his temple and faced his captive. “What is that?” he asked, staring at the crispy blobs on the baking slab.
“I combined the three items in your cupboard with water to make cookies … they aren’t great, but …” She shrugged and held up her burned finger.
Suddenly aroused, Saber bit back a groan at the desire to suck her finger into his mouth and ease her distress. “You should run it under the water.”
Saber turned on the tap. Hesitantly, the female he’d thought of nonstop for ten years, eased up beside him and stuck her finger under the icy-cold water. A moment later she moved away like a skittish cat.
“It’s not that bad.” She grabbed a utensil, and slid the cookies onto a plate.
Saber leaned back against the counter and watched her. Once again, the urge to reach out and touch her hair overcame him. Before he could act, she held the plate out to him. “Here, try one.”
She could have poisoned them, a voice said as Saber took a cookie. He held it, watching her. Unless she carried poison around with her, she wouldn’t have found anything to use here. As if sensing his thoughts, she smirked, grabbed a cookie off the plate, and staring at him, bit into it.
Saber raised his cookie and sniffed. It smelled like Elmondy nuts and Nectar. He took a bite, expecting to hate it, but it wasn’t half bad.
“Well?” she asked.
Without a word, he grabbed another, suddenly angry that he’d left her with nothing to eat.
“Where are you going?” she asked as he made his way toward the entrance.
Saber looked back at her. “To get some food.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed. “Just how long do you plan to keep me here?”
Saber turned away, frustrated with himself. She was his prisoner, he should be forcing her to talk, yet the idea made him want to destroy the world.
“What is your name?” she asked, making him pause.
“Saberthorn.”
“Well, I’m Tirah,” she called after him.
Tirah, he liked the sound of it.
Outside, Saber drew in a deep breath and tried to calm the raging urges he had whenever near Tirah. Once under control, he debated on where to go for food. He could go through a portal to another realm, but he didn’t like the idea of going off world and leaving her alone in his lair. Especially with his record of losing time. He finally made his decision, shifted, and took to the sky.
Saber quickly flew to the nearest town with a market, then loaded up on food items and other supplies. His head was once again splitting open. Worried that he’d black out, Saber hurried back to home. Even though he knew there was no way for Tirah to escape, he couldn’t help the irrational fear that she’d be gone.
Shocked to find her lying on the couch, Saber stared. She was sound asleep. Why wasn’t she pacing around, terrified? He set the bags on the counter, then walked over and watched the pulse flutter in her smooth neck and imagined licking it. His gaze drifted to her plump breasts as they rose and fell. Wonder what they’d feel like … Saber shook his head and was about to turn away, when he noticed the finger she’d burned wasn’t the only one scarred. All of them were. Not only that, she had no fingernails.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Feed Me, Kill Me
Fury seeped into Saber’s soul. He reached over and grabbed the blanket and covered her. Who did that to her, and why? He contemplated his captive as he went back to the kitchen area and put everything away. He tried not to look at her as he started a meal.
Saber knew the moment Tirah awoke. Every sense in his body went on alert, and it was all he could do to act normal.
“That smells amazing,” she said, rising to her feet. She folded the blanket, set it on the couch and walked over to the kitchen.
“You don’t have a mate or someone who cooks for you?” she asked.
“No, I don’t,” he said tersely.
“I’m surprised.”
“Why?” Saber knew he sounded a little gruffer than he
would have liked, but it was hard keeping his eyes off her.
“I just never expected that any of the great Thorn sons would cook. You all kind of have a reputation, for … other stuff.”
Saber stared at her and knew what she left unsaid. Killing, whoring, killing …
“Anyway, I just figured you would have someone to cook for you, that’s all.” Then Tirah glanced at the table he’d already set. When she looked back at him, there was a scowl on her face. “You know, you can keep me here, starve me, feed me, kill me, but I still can’t tell you anything.”
Her words reminded Saber of why he was holding her here in the first place. Saber didn’t say a word, just watched her run a hand through her wild, burnished copper hair as she turned back to him. His cock throbbed in his jeans. Fuck. Adarias is stuck in Hades, and what the hell am I doing, having a fucking dinner party?
“Why are you doing all this?” she asked.
“What?”
“You know, feeding me. Being nice to me?” Tirah waved her hand around.
Saber didn’t know himself. All he knew was he couldn’t let her starve. Besides, sooner or later she’d talk. “I need to know how to reverse the spell you put on my brother,” he said, watching her frown deepen.
“Spell? I thought you wanted to kill me for what happened to that female,” Tirah said, watching him warily. The pulse in her neck fluttered and it was a chore to tear his gaze away. Instead, he carried a large platter of fruit, cheese, and breads to the table and then returned for the hot casserole.
“Sit. Eat.” He indicated the food. Tirah seemed to debate a moment, then finally sat down and surveyed the food. Saber grabbed a bottle from an alcove in the sitting area. Then, after popping the cork, he poured some of the liquid into two finely sculpted drinking flutes with dragons depicted on the side.
Saberthorn (A Paranormal/Fantasy Dragonshifter Romance): Dragonkind ~ 52 Realms Page 10