by DJ Michaels
Of course.
And if I was under threat or someone was trying to hurt me, wouldn’t you want to know?
There was a slight, thoughtful hesitation. Yes.
In the same way it’s your duty to protect me, it’s my duty to protect Tansy. When I mated with her, I gave my word to defend her and keep her safe. It is my honor, my duty and my privilege to care for her. Your decision today denied me those rights.
Ah. I would not like it if you were hurt and others deliberately kept that information from me.
Then you understand why I’m so angry.
Yes, I understand.
Dev went for the kill while Fellescend was feeling empathetic—or as empathetic as a dragon was capable of being. I want your word right now that you will never keep information from me when it comes to the safety and welfare of Tansy or Rye.
The pause was longer this time, and Dev though Fellescend was going to balk, but eventually a wary acceptance came through the link. Very well, you have my word.
Thank you. Dev spotted the den, far into the distance. Get me home, Fellescend, as fast as you can.
As soon as he’d stripped off his armor, Dev stalked through the den looking for his mates. He found them in the bathroom and his heart squeezed tight as he hurried across the tiled expanse, halting a bare arm’s-length away. Tansy was sitting on the counter, naked and freshly bathed. Her light-brown eyes brimmed with unshed tears and Dev knew that if even one of those tears fell she would rip him open.
He scanned her long, lithe body. She was covered in an array of scrapes, cuts and bruises so prevalent there was hardly a hand-span of unmarred skin. Sitting quietly, she allowed a tightly subdued Rye to dab antiseptic ointment on every wound as he methodically made his way down her torso.
Tansy held out a hand to Dev, palm up, and he moved forward to cradle her hand in his, her delicate bones light and fragile. Her nails were split and torn, her skin shredded, and as he lowered his lips to her palm, his kiss was more breath than touch. Needing to feel her under his hand, he moved closer, cupping the back of her head and resting his fingers on the warm skin at her nape.
“Have the physicians had time to see her yet?” he asked, speaking to the back of Rye’s bent head.
“No. They’re still knee-deep in wounded.”
Dev wasn’t surprised. The battle had been brutal, and both sides had suffered deaths and injuries. He took a breath and hoped he could hold it together as he asked his next question. “What do I need to know?” About Tansy. About what that bastard had done to her this time.
“The inside of her mouth is cut, probably from a slap.” Rye’s voice was quiet, almost conversational, but Dev could see the deadly intention in every line of his denmate’s body. “She has a boot-print on her chest and bruises on her ribs and back, most likely from being kicked. As best I can tell, all the other cuts and scrapes are a result of her being thrown down the cliff.”
The room tilted and Dev had to put his spare hand on Rye’s bent back to steady himself. “He threw her off the landing?”
“Yep.”
Spots wavered in Dev’s vision and he floated on a wave of calm, inevitable vengeance. Willersby Lockmehdyhn was going to suffer long and hard before he took his last breath, it was really just a matter of how and when. Dev stroked Tansy’s hair, his eyes scanning her body over and over as Rye cared for her injuries. Then he came to a decision.
“I’ve changed my mind, Rye. I don’t think you and I should kill Willersby fucking Lockmehdyhn.”
Rye rolled his head to the side. “Oh?”
Dev looked him in the eye. “I think we should ask Fellescend and Zenbaylan to do the honors.”
A grim smile lifted the corners of Rye’s mouth. “Perhaps, if we ask really nicely, they’ll play with him first.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
The blacks were born to fight. They were ferocious and insanely territorial. Dev had no doubt they would break Willersby long before they killed him, and that thought filled him with deep satisfaction. Raping Tansy was enough to have earned the councilor a death sentence, but he’d come after her in the den. He’d tried to hurt her when she was legally and morally under Dev and Rye’s protection, and that meant he’d relinquished any right to mercy. Fellescend and Zenbaylan would rip Willersby to shreds, rend his limbs from his body and then, if he was very lucky, they would kill him.
Dev wished he could be there to see it.
The fantasy of what he’d like to do to Willersby Lockmehdyhn was brought to a halt when Rye wrapped Tansy in a blanket and lifted her off the bench. Dev knew her injuries would heal on their own, but he couldn’t bear the thought of her suffering any discomfort after what she’d endured.
Fellescend, can we bring Tansy to you?
Of course. Zenbaylan and I will take care of her.
Thank you.
Dev kept one hand on Rye’s shoulder, connecting the three of them as they traversed the den and made their way to the lair. As they stepped onto the soft expanse of sand the dragons used as their bed, Fellescend lowered himself to his elbows so Rye could lay Tansy in his scaly arms.
Stepping forward, Dev stroked her hair from her face. “Just relax, honey. Let Fellescend and Zenbaylan heal you while you sleep.”
Skin is better, Fellescend said, referring to the fact that Tansy was still tightly wrapped in her blanket.
Dev wasn’t sure if his mate was ready to strip naked and go skin to scale, but he knew if he didn’t broach the subject Fellescend would.
Sifting his fingers through her hair, Dev leaned down so he could see her eyes. “Fellescend can heal you better and faster if you’re skin to skin. Is it okay if we lose the blanket?”
She blinked a couple of times, but there was no doubt his Tansy was still in there.
“Will you and Rye stay with me? It won’t feel so weird if the three of us are naked together.” She offered him a small smile and that slight tilt of her lips eased the hard knot that had been burning inside him.
Rye gave a tired chuckle and started stripping. “You only have to ask, honey. Dev and I are always looking for an excuse to get naked with you.”
Wasn’t that the truth? Rye looked freshly washed, but Dev still had the dirt and sweat of battle clinging to him. “Just give me enough time for a quick rinse, and then I’ll be back.”
In record time, Dev was clean, naked and cradled in Fellescend’s arms with Tansy tucked safe and tight between him and Dev. Both dragons snuggled tight and pulled their dark gray wings across to form a canopy over their family. Cocooned in a warm, aromatic, living bed that rose and fell with every dragon breath, Dev finally relaxed. Despite the trauma and upheaval of the day, he eased into a deep and restful sleep.
Chapter Twenty
Zenbaylan woke the moment Oskaal popped into the lair. The dragonet and his friends had been set the task of locating Willersby Lockmehdyhn, and Oskaal’s quiet excitement meant they’d had some success. Zenbaylan eased her head from under her wing and met the dragonet eye to eye, opening her mind so he could show her what she needed to know.
The dragonets didn’t communicate in words, not like her rider or her pet, but the images, thoughts and impressions were as clear as any spoken language. Within moments Zenbaylan had all the relevant information.
Her quarry was fleeing his country estate in one of the mechanical transports that could only be used when there was clear weather. The stormwatchers had predicted cloudless skies, but they weren’t infallible, and ion storms could come on hard and fast. But the coward was frightened enough to run and desperate enough to use an unreliable machine. That decision only confirmed his stupidity and made his imminent death easier to engineer.
None of it bothered Zenbaylan. Now she and her mate had permission to hunt, the mode of transport was irrelevant. It was all about the chase.
Her Enforcers and her pet still slept in her arms, and she nudged Rye awake. Time to go back to your own bed. Fellescend and I are goin
g hunting.
You found him?
Yes. Now go. And be careful with my pet while I’m away.
Affection came through the link, warm and flavored with Rye’s unique scent. You be careful too. And make sure you mess with him bad before you finally kill him.
Zenbaylan snorted. As if she’d do anything else.
It didn’t take long before she and Fellescend were winging their way into the starry darkness, the cool air full of night smells and sounds and the lingering scent of the day’s battle. She stroked smooth and strong, her mate flying tight beside her, and the anticipation sparked bright and hot in her belly. She’d missed the battle today because of her special mission, and she was looking forward to this evening’s activities.
This hunt wasn’t as good as a real battle, but she knew she and Fellescend would make the most of it. She always enjoyed the satisfying crunch and tear of flesh versus dragon, and though four targets seemed paltry, they were better than none. Outwardly she hoped the councilor and his men were up to the challenge, but privately her expectations weren’t high.
Oskaal popped in and out at various intervals during their flight, giving them updates and offering course corrections. Dawn was breaking before he gave the signal that their prey was at hand.
Zenbaylan heard the machine before she saw it. The horrible droning whine of a two-legged creature’s answer to being born wingless. Pitiful. And utterly useless for stealth in the air.
Arching her wings, she swooped up and over, coming down on the machine at a high angle while Fellescend came up from below. They hit the tin can simultaneously, hard and brutal, tipping it onto its side and tearing the canopy from its moorings. The men screamed. Laser shots arced bright and wild into the night, but they were aiming blind.
The dragons maneuvered themselves one on either side of the transport before taking it in their talons. Gripping it tight, they flew high enough to gain fatal altitude. Then they plucked the guards from the tin can one by one and dropped them over the side until only Willersby Lockmehdyhn remained. He cried and begged, offering all kinds of outlandish and improbable deals, none of which were of any use to a battle dragon. Zenbaylan had nothing but scorn for him, hiding behind his guards and allowing himself to be reduced to a quivering, blubbering mess on the floor.
She wondered if he’d felt the same kind of scorn for Tansy when she was cowering and crying from his abuse. It seemed the kind of thing a man like him would feel. But Zenbaylan’s pet was a fighter, and she’d acted in her own defense the moment the opportunity had presented itself. It seemed that Willersby Lockmehdyhn was doing the opposite.
Fellescend tore away the walls, seats and furnishings until he could get his claws around their prey. The moment the little man was locked in her mate’s grip, Zenbaylan dropped the transport, allowing it to crash to the earth where it would.
Dropping low and close, she allowed Tansy’s abuser to get a good look at her, to know which dragon it was that would deliver the death blow. Then she dropped away to hover below Fellescend.
When he released Lockmehdyhn, the piercing scream the man let out would have done a grifhawk proud. Just as her prey came hurtling down, Zenbaylan snatched him out of the air, rolling onto her back before righting herself, ensuring her prey received maximum air pressure on his fragile limbs. Zenbaylan powered away, flying long and flat before turning around and racing toward Fellescend at top speed. When she was at absolute maximum, and close enough for him to make the catch, she back-winged hard, released her grip on her prey and let the forward momentum fling him into Fellescend’s waiting claw.
Then it was her mate’s turn to fly away before coming back at a velocity that made Zenbaylan’s heart sing. Fellescend was strong, fast and an excellent partner for this particular game.
They played until the councilor passed out. Then they waited until he revived and played some more. The morning wore on and the sun was high in the sky before Fellescend’s enthusiasm outstripped their prey’s capacity for physical stress.
In the excitement of discovering a new game, he sent a “watch this” thought to Zenbaylan and she dutifully hovered, her eyes fixed firmly on her mate. Fellescend threw the councilor in the air and, in an impressive act of dragon agility, twisted his body and used his heavily muscled tail as a bat. The wet, crunchy sound of bones shattering was immensely satisfying. But when Willersby’s body disintegrated in a splatter of arms, legs and guts, Zenbaylan had to admit to a degree of disappointment. Once he’d stopped sniveling and begging, he’d been rather fun and she’d been hoping they could drag out their play a little longer.
Fellescend flew close and hovered, rubbing snout to snout in dragon apology. Zenbaylan thought about flaming him, just a bit, but her mood was too good to inflict even a minor punishment on her mate. As far as she was concerned, their primary task of avenging their pet had been successfully completed and the fun had just been a bonus.
Rubbing against Fellescend neck to neck to reassure him all was well, she sent him an image of the lake. They needed to bathe before they went home because, while their Enforcers might appreciate the blood and gore, their pet would find it distressing.
In a good mood despite their foreshortened playtime, Zenbaylan and Fellescend swooped, danced and rolled together in the air as they made their way to Sapphire Lake. The sun was out, Zenbaylan’s possessions were tucked safely in their bed in the den, and her mate had a wicked twinkle in his eye.
She heaved a sigh of satisfaction and wallowed in the happiness that was her world.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tansy drifted awake, tucked tight between her men as usual. A warm hand coasted up and down her thigh and she knew without opening her eyes that her Enforcers were awake too.
“How did we end up in bed?” She remembered going to sleep in the lair but nothing after that.
Rye pressed his lips to her neck, and her whole body tingled. “The dragons kicked us out in the middle of the night, so we carried you back here.”
He nipped at her skin, and when Dev cupped her breast in his large, calloused hand she arched against them. “Why’d they kick us out?”
Her mates stilled, and the change in atmosphere was so quick that any remnants of sleep evaporated. She opened a wary eye and watched her men ease away a little. They didn’t break contact, but the hair on her nape prickled at the cautious look on their faces.
Dev raised himself a little, his dark-purple hair spilling over her naked body. “Our dragons received word that Willersby Lockmehdyhn was trying to flee.”
“Flee where?”
Dev shrugged. “He was leaving his country estate in a hurry, so I assume he was running for the coast. Once there he could easily arrange transport to Allsgate.”
Tansy fought the queasy crawl of fear in her belly for several breaths and then she did her best to block it out. “Did Zenbaylan and Fellescend track him down?”
“Yes.” Rye rubbed a possessive hand over her thigh. “And you might want to leave your queries there.”
She understood that he wasn’t telling her not to ask questions—he was warning her about the possible answers. Tansy knew dragon justice didn’t involve a courtroom, and she was beginning to sense it might edge into the kind of brutality she’d find disconcerting. But this wasn’t about her being comfortable, it was about seeing it through until the end. She did her best to brace for anything. “They killed him, didn’t they?”
Rye leaned down to kiss her, turned to kiss Dev, then wriggled down the bed until his arms were wrapped around her waist and his head rested on her abdomen. “You tell her, Dev. You’re better at explaining things than I am.”
Dev’s sour look made it clear that Rye had just dropped him in it, but he manned up and told her the truth. “Yes, they killed him. Not quickly and not with any dignity or mercy. The dragons have their own brand of vengeance and they understand what it is to make someone suffer.”
Tansy couldn’t quite meet those arctic-blue eyes. “I’m not
sure how I feel about that. I’m relieved he’s gone but death seems rather…extreme.”
Dev shifted closer, sliding one arm under her shoulders and wrapping his free hand around Rye’s considerable biceps. “I hate to break it to you, honey, but the punishment wasn’t about you. If it had been a matter of avenging your honor, of punishing Willersby for what he did to you in Allsgate, then Rye and I would have claimed that privilege for ourselves.”
Rye squeezed her tight. “He still would have died but we would have made it quicker than he deserved.”
“Willersby’s fatal error,” Dev continued, “was coming into the lair. He breached Zenbaylan and Fellescend’s sanctuary and hurt someone directly under their care and protection. The moment he stepped onto the landing, he took justice out of our hands and placed it firmly under dragon control.”
“You have no need to feel guilty.” Rye lifted his head just enough to look her in the eye. “Willersby Lockmehdyhn made his own choices. He’s lived here his whole life—he knows exactly who and what the dragons are, and he knew the risks he was taking when he invaded our home.”
He rubbed his chin on her abdomen, his breath warm on her skin. “And once our dragons claimed you, you became a high-risk target. Coming after you was tantamount to suicide. Willersby knew that and still decided to take the risk.”
That degree of ownership was a little dizzying for Tansy. It was one thing to know she was loved and protected by her mates and their dragons. It was quite another to be confronted with the gory practicalities of dragon ownership. The soldier in her appreciated their hard line, but the woman in her was slightly appalled.
“Those dragons are going to take some getting used to, aren’t they?” Which she suspected was quite the understatement.
“Yes.” Rye snuggled down again, turning his head away. “But the benefits far, far outweigh any negatives.” She was about ask what those negatives might be when Rye’s big, warm hand cupped her mound and began a firm, delectable massage. “Let’s talk about something else,” he murmured, applying just enough pressure for Tansy’s breath to catch.