Freedom's Fall

by DJ Michaels

  Despite everything that had happened to her, all the trauma she’d experienced and all the hurdles she’d yet to overcome, she was willing to take the leap. She trusted Dev and him with her body and her heart, and Rye had never been so grateful for anything in his life.

  It was well past lunch before they were finally dry and dressed. Tansy wore her silk trousers and tunic, while Dev and Rye wore nothing but pants. When he noticed how gingerly his new mate was walking, he couldn’t help giving in to the surge of territorial male pride. He guided her to the couch, got her settled and stole some more kisses as Dev ordered their food.

  Just as he was about to cuddle her tight in his arms, Tansy leaned forward and eyed a large envelope half-hidden under the foot table. “Wow, you guys were pretty sure of yourselves.”

  Rye leaned down to pick up the official-looking package. “Sure about what, honey?”

  “The mating thing. Aren’t those the contracts?”

  “No.” He held up the envelope so Dev could see it. “Yours?”

  Dev shook his head and Rye’s whole body went cold. Someone or something had breached their home while they’d been playing in bed with Tansy. Rye locked eyes with his denmate. Neither looked away, even when Dev’s gaze went blank as he spoke to Fellescend through their link.

  A moment later Oskaal popped into view in a shower of sparks, but neither Enforcer relaxed. That envelope could be tainted with anything, most of which the dragonets would be able to sense. The clever creatures had a particular skill-set, one of which was a highly developed sense of smell. If there was anything dangerous in or on the envelope, Oskaal would be able to scent it.

  Rye tossed the packet onto the table and nodded to the dragonet. “What can you tell us?”

  Oskaal dropped onto the table and sniffed at the envelope, a steady hum coming from the back of his throat. Using his claw to move it around, he flipped it over and moved it around some more, sniffing the whole time. Finally he trilled, shook himself off, and flew up to take a position on the back of the couch near Tansy’s head.

  Fellescend’s voice came through the link to all three of them. Oskaal doesn’t smell anything bad or wrong. He doesn’t believe there are any poisons or traps, and he’s as sure as he can be that the package is safe to open.

  “Well, at least we know it’s not a snake,” Tansy said, referring to the incident that had almost killed Sorcha.

  Dev gave her a flat stare. “There’s nothing funny about someone trying to murder Sorcha. Or you, for that matter.”

  She huffed out an exasperated breath. “Bloody hell, Dev, it’s just an envelope.”

  One that had appeared with ease inside their den. And one that wasn’t going to open itself. Moving away from Tansy, just in case, Rye opened the flap. When it appeared to hold nothing more sinister than paper, he finally allowed himself to relax. He pulled out what proved to be a batch of hard-copy holos clipped together with a note.

  Does your new protector know what you are, whore? I have lots more where these came from. If you don’t meet my demands, I’ll make sure every Enforcer in the den gets a copy. I’ll be in touch.

  Rye tore off the clip and the note to be confronted by an image of Tansy, wild-eyed and terrified, being forced to suck some bastard’s cock. Rage erupted inside him, scorching, malevolent, seething with the need to do violence. He flipped to the next holo, and the next, each one a barbarous record of how his woman had been tortured. In that moment he was so full of hate, burning so hot for vengeance, that he didn’t even realize Tansy had come to stand next to him.

  Her scream of utter desolation brought him back.

  She collapsed to the floor, arms around her middle, and keened in almost mindless agony. Dropping to his knees beside her, he wrapped her in his arms and let Dev collect the holos and shove them back in the envelope.

  Rye squeezed Tansy tight, tucking her into the shelter of his body. “I’m so sorry, honey. I wish I could make it better.” He kept talking to her, stroking her, holding her close. When Dev came to bracket her from the other side, he did the same, but Tansy just kept wailing. The sound was pain given voice, wrenched from a part of her so deep it went past grief and sorrow.

  Her mind was somewhere else. Rye suspected that no matter how hard he squeezed her or how long he talked, Tansy wouldn’t hear him.

  Rye was about to call down to the infirmary for help when Tansy jerked upright in his arms. Then she jerked again. “Ow, ow, ow, ow.” Clutching her head, she whipped around and glared in the direction of the lair. Then she glared at Dev. “Your dragon is an asshole.”

  Dev blinked, but to his credit he kept with her. “Yes, he is. What did he do?”

  “He bitch-slapped me.”

  Tansy scrambled to her feet, pushed her way past Rye and stalked toward the lair.

  “What the hell just happened?” he asked.

  “No idea.” Dev rolled to his feet, pulling Rye with him. “But after that rapid and extreme mood change, I don’t think our battle dragons are safe from our mate.”

  Which in turn meant Tansy wasn’t safe. Pet or no pet, there was only so much aggravation a dragon would tolerate before it turned and snapped. Rye tried to link with Zenbaylan, but she shut him out. Judging by the hard edge in Dev’s eyes it seemed he wasn’t faring any better with his dragon.

  They ran to the lair and when they saw what awaited them they skidded to a wary halt. Tansy was facing down—or rather up to—Fellescend and Zenbaylan, her tiny frame dwarfed by the scaly bulk of the blacks. Zenbaylan was too cool to read easily, but the smug self-righteousness coming off Fellescend had alarms ringing loud and long in Rye’s head.

  “What’s going on?” Dev’s question sounded more like panic than demand.

  Tansy turned on them, her brown eyes spitting fire. “Why don’t you ask your fuckhead dragon?”

  All the color drained from Dev’s face, and Rye knew his complexion wasn’t any better. Rye made an attempt to get Tansy away from snapping distance before it was too late. “Honey, how about you come over here with us and we can sort this out?”

  “No, I’m not going anywhere until that black, scaly bastard gets what’s coming to him.”

  Rye thought he’d seen all facets of Tansy, but this furious virago was something new. And so much better than the frightened, broken woman who’d been curled into a ball only moments ago. He much preferred the virago, assuming they could keep her in one piece.

  “Someone needs to tell us what’s going on,” he said.

  Tansy turned to Fellescend, hands on hips. “Well?” The black remained silent, and Tansy’s anger went up a notch. “No? Really?” She whirled around to face Rye and Dev, putting her vulnerable back to the death-on-wings behind her, and threw her arms out in frustration.

  “I’ll tell you what happened. I just had one of the most magical experiences of my life ruined, fucking ruined, by the bastard who tortured and raped me. Those photos, that awful, graphic reminder of what happened to me…” And her steam started to run out. Her voice lost its strident edge and the pain came back into her eyes. “It was bad, and I’ve come so far, and I never, ever wanted either of you to know…”

  Rye’s throat closed and his eyes blurred. His heart hurt so badly all he could think about was holding his mate close. “Come here.” He held his arms out to her. “We love you. We’ll work it out.”

  She started to cry, loud and messy but also clean and cathartic. She took two steps toward them and she clutched her head again. “Ow, ow, stop it for god’s sake!”

  The moment she straightened, she whirled around and stalked back to the sandpit. “That’s it, you big, black fucker. Get your stick-it-where-it’s-not-needed nose down here this instant.”

  Fellescend was leaning on his elbows but his head was still a long way off the ground. He snorted at Tansy, enveloping her in a cloud of smoke.

  “I mean it, Fellescend. You need some re-education about how to deal with human women.”

  Fellescend smirked
but finally lowered his head, no doubt secure in the knowledge that this tiny human woman couldn’t hurt him. Tansy waited until his nose was level with her chest and then she punched, him hard and vicious, right between the nostrils.

  “That’s for not giving me any sympathy when I was about to have a nervous breakdown. Now get back down here and let me pay you back for bitch-slapping me inside my head.”

  Fellescend rubbed his nose, glaring at her with angry yellow eyes while Zenbaylan watched Tansy with morbid fascination. Rye knew their time had run out. Darting forward, he grabbed Tansy around the waist and dragged her, literally kicking and screaming, to the door of the lair.

  He sent an open message to his dragon. Zenbaylan? Are you ready to fill me in, or do you plan on letting my mate hurt even more?

  We didn’t hurt her. Fellescend saved her.

  How? Tansy had quieted in his arms but Rye still held her tight.

  She shut us out again. Pets shouldn’t be able to do that. After last time, we came up with a strategy to prevent such a thing happening again.

  A mental slap? That’s your strategy? Rye had the overwhelming urge to do some snout-punching of his own.

  It worked. This from an unrepentant Fellescend. Our pet didn’t break contact for long, and once her lapse was brought to her attention, she came straight back into the link.

  Rye could feel a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, and this situation was far from funny. Tucking Tansy even tighter into his arms—no point aggravating her any more than he needed to—Rye caught Dev’s gaze. “Help?”

  Dev’s face was solemn, but there was a twinkle in his eye because sometimes even crazy dragon logic could save the day. He turned to the blacks, raised his voice and went into mediator mode. “That was very quick thinking today, from both of you.”

  Tansy bucked in Rye’s arms, and he slapped his hand over her mouth before she could shout out any more insults. Dev ignored the tussle and kept his attention on the dragons.

  “You brought Tansy back and re-secured the link, which is good. But I think now might be an appropriate time for us to fine-tune that strategy.”

  Fellescend had been with Dev too long to take that statement at face value. The dragons might not think like Enforcers but they were far from stupid.

  What alterations did you have in mind? Fellescend’s voice held an edge of wary suspicion.

  “If Tansy drops out of the link when she’s with either Rye or me, you don’t force her back unless we ask it of you.”

  Agreed.

  “And if you do have to take action, you do it with a lighter touch than you used today.”

  Zenbaylan sent to Rye on an intimate link, one to one. That is a mistake.

  Why?

  Pulling her back gently would resume the link but it wouldn’t force her to move from despair to anger.

  Rye had to admit that made sense. Those holos had shocked Tansy to the core and brought back the memories and emotions of a horrifying time. She could have stayed mired in that grief and powerlessness for weeks, and there was a good chance none of them would have been able to reach her.

  Battle dragons were naturally aggressive, and they considered anger a normal, clean emotion. Get angry, burn off whatever it is that ails you and move on. It was an obvious course of action for the blacks. Luckily for them, Tansy was a fighter and getting head-slapped had made her angry enough to pull out of her downward spiral. Rye wasn’t sure that strategy would work on any of the other women—except perhaps Sorcha. But it had worked on Tansy, and she was the only one for whom he was responsible.

  I trust you, he said to Zenbaylan. I’ll leave it up to you to determine how to call her back. But for my sake and yours, warn me first.

  She sent a spike of love and amusement down the link, and then Rye had nothing to worry about but an armful of emotionally scrambled woman. He kissed the top of her head. “Come back to the den. We can get comfortable and sort ourselves out.”

  Her sigh was shaky, and before she stepped completely out of his arms, Dev moved in front of her, cupping her cheek. “Just so we’re clear, nothing has changed between us.”

  She nodded and her lower lip trembled.

  “And while we’re being clear,” Dev continued, “I promise you that Rye and I are going to kill Willersby fucking Lockmehdyhn. Faster than he no doubt deserves, but just as dead.”

  Tansy reached up and laid her hand over Rye’s. “Right this minute, I’m totally okay with that.”

  Dev leaned in for a kiss that was all tenderness. “Let’s get comfortable so we can start plotting.”

  Rye’s heart almost swelled out of his chest when his brave little mate took each of them by the hand and led them back into the den.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rye settled Tansy on the couch, ignored her protests about his fussing and sat down next to her. Dev sat on the opposite side, and they’d just gotten comfortable when Fellescend spoke to them on an open band.

  Jax has called a captains’ meeting.

  When? Dev asked.

  Now.

  Rye could see how badly his denmate wanted to stay, but he also knew the responsibilities of a captain wouldn’t allow it. Rye snuggled Tansy close and looked over her head at Dev. “You have to go.”

  “I think it’s more important that I stay here.”

  Rye shook his head. “Our dragons and I can look after our mate.” Jax wouldn’t call an unscheduled meeting without good cause, and Dev had too many Enforcers under his command to let things slide.

  Tansy reached out and patted Dev’s leg. “That’s the beauty of having two mates. If one needs to be busy, I still have a hot spare to pamper me and do my bidding.”

  Dev reached out to cup her cheek. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, go. Be important.”

  Dev rolled forward and gave her a hard, quick kiss. As he pulled back, his gaze met Rye’s, and for a breathless moment, Rye thought his denmate was going to kiss him too. But between one blink and the next, Dev disappeared and Rye was left feeling slightly confused. And strangely disappointed.

  As soon as Dev had changed into his leathers and left the den, Rye turned his attention to Tansy.

  “We need to burn those,” she said, gesturing to the holos, shame dripping from every syllable.

  Hearing that tone in her voice brought Rye’s anger from a simmer to a boil. Easing Tansy out of his arms, he stood, pulled the holos out of the envelope and searched for one that would best illustrate his point. When he found what he was looking for he folded the holo in half so all he could see was Tansy’s brown eyes.

  Retaking his seat on the couch, he held the holo out to her. “What do you see?” The hurt in her gaze sliced him open, but he had a point to make, so he shook the holo to gain her attention. “What do you see? What’s in those eyes?”

  Tansy’s mouth flattened into a grim line and every muscle in her body locked tight. “Pain, humiliation, degradation.” She glared at him. “Is that what you want to hear?”

  He ignored the question. “Do you know what I see? I see a woman who is trapped and powerless but not broken. I see a woman who has the strength and courage to endure because she’s a fighter.” He tapped the holo. “Those eyes aren’t dead or lifeless—there’s no acceptance or defeat there. You did what you had to do to survive. You held on. When the chance for freedom came you grabbed it and you fought for it. You almost killed a man to save Sorcha and, despite your terror of falling, you got on a dragon and held it together for the entire flight home.”

  Shoving the holo under his leg where she couldn’t see it, Rye turned and cradled her face in his hands. “All that pain and humiliation, the captivity and torture, has nothing to do with you. All of that should be laid squarely at Willersby Lockmehdyhn’s door. What is yours, what you should claim, is the fight. You survived your ordeal, you’re rebuilding your life, and I’m so fucking proud of you I feel like my heart will burst.”

  “How can you look at those photos and no
t be totally disgusted?” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it cut him deep.

  “I am disgusted, honey. By him. Those things were done to you not by you. They don’t define you, because that’s not who you are.”

  Tansy threw herself into his arms and clung. He held her tight and kissed her hair, Stroking her back, he waited for her to realize she was safe with him in every way that mattered. When she finally let go enough to cry, her tears burned hot, soaking into his skin and his heart while his arms locked tight around her. Eventually the storm passed and she spent a long time just lying in his embrace, accepting his touch and his comfort. Her willingness to be vulnerable to him, to give him that level of trust, soothed something deep inside him. Breathing deep and taking her scent into his lungs, Rye relaxed against the cushion of the couch, content with his world. For now.

  Dev didn’t like leaving Tansy when she was so emotionally raw, even though his denmate was more than capable of looking after her. As he made his way to the meeting, he put his loves very firmly to one side and turned his mind to his role as den captain. There were four captains in the den, and they each had identical duties and responsibilities. Each captain was in charge of four flights, and each flight numbered between fifteen and twenty dragons and their riders. Each flight was overseen by a flight leader.

  At any given time, Dev had sixty to eighty Enforcers under his command. It was the same for his fellow captains, and between them Dev, Ari, Finn and Nash supervised and trained over three hundred Enforcers. And all of the Enforcers, flight leaders, captains and civilians living at the den were under the authority of Jaxmyre Randovar. While Dev enjoyed his responsibilities as a captain, he didn’t envy the den commander one little bit.

  Dev turned at a junction in the hallway and saw Finn sitting on the smooth floor, his back pressed against the pale marble wall as he stared off into the distance.