Unless—
Then Kord spotted it, and rage rushed through him. “Oh, gods. Mother, wait.”
It was a bezom progeny, so young and helpless, heaped at the edge of the wider pasture. Even from a distance, Kord could tell the hatchling was dead. When he turned back to the enraged bezom, he spotted flashes of dark blue on its underbelly, the best way to identify gender.
This was a mother seeking revenge for the murder of its young.
No one of Draconian would have done this. No dragon had the wherewithal or reasoning to attempt coaxing a bezom from its watery lair. This was a deliberate act.
Why?
Still in dragoness form, the queen remained a fair distance back, watching the king carefully as he parried and thrust his enormous body like a well-balanced weapon. “I will not hurt the creature,” he exclaimed, dodging yet another spurt of bezom drool. “Is there no hope for its young?”
“No, my love. Please, you must stay safe.” Softly she commanded, “Kord, get a shard.”
His father’s hearing was exceptional. “No,” he bellowed, turning for an instant. That moment cost him dearly, as the grief-crazed bezom flung a rope of saliva. It splashed against the meatiest section of his rear flank.
Kord’s anger swelled when his father went down in a howl of pain, even as his heart broke at the poor bezom’s loss. He wanted the real monster who’d cynically orchestrated this tragedy. And he knew. Gods. Who else, but a vengeful, bitter shrew.
His mother leapt to her mate, standing over him in protective mode.
As she drew on much-needed strength to form a protective barrier, Kord felt her magical shields securing their land begin to falter. Glittering wings rising in a threatening manner, she crouched and opened her jaw, spewing molten-hot flames toward the grieving creature.
The bezom must have realized it couldn’t defeat the queen, because with one final, realm-shattering screech, its head-fins flattened as it turned to slither back toward the lake. Water sizzled audibly upon impact with the last of the flames as they skimmed across the surface like a skipping stone.
Kord turned and raced back to the cavern. He had to get to Lily. He’d left his mate completely vulnerable. And it was all too apparent who’d be coming for her.
Aventasha of Anglican.
Outrage tore a hole in his gut. Though he’d never laid a violent hand on a female before, if Tasha harmed one hair on Lily’s head, he was going to tear her in two and feed her parts to the silversnake beasts inhabiting the murky debts of Vining Lake.
Chapter 12
The ten seconds it took Kord to round the taller boulders along the left of the entrance seemed like an eternity. His heart pounded hard against his chest, and it almost exploded when he spotted Zanralth holding Lily roughly by the arm, hauling her outside. A bright red handprint blazed against the delicate perfection of her cheek.
Too small for a man’s.
Fear shone in her pretty eyes as she stared at Zane. By the horrified recognition on her face, he knew beyond a doubt the Diablian bastard was her stalker from Earth’s realm. If he charged in like a madman to save her, Kord knew he could get her killed.
Zanralth had been odd and unstable most of his life, a by-product of his overly indulgent parents. His attitude, that the realm owed him everything because of his royal lineage, had been bred into him since birth. Still, it took all of Kord’s willpower to slow his pace and safeguard Lily by using a cool head rather than fiery vengeance. She wasn’t in immediate danger, which was all that allowed him to maintain his calm.
Tasha followed Zanralth out, along with a male he recognized as the rogue called Maran. The corrupt and powerful warlock could be bought at the right price. Tasha’s palm would fit the mark on Lily’s face perfectly. Kord’s glare narrowed. She’d pay for that.
“Zanralth, take the little twit to your castle,” Tasha ordered, then turned to scowl at the warlock. “She’s mated in deed, though the blood scent is weak. Damn it, she must have bitten— No, I refuse to think on it, I might kill her after all.” With a vengeful glare toward Lily, Tasha urged, “There’s still time. Fix it. Then erase her memory, so this moron”—she jerked a chin toward Zane—“can mate her, fully.”
A sly smile crossed the warlock’s face. “That’ll necessitate great magick, and will cost you more, much more.”
Tasha’s mouth thinned to an angry slash. “Whatever the cost,” she ground out. “Do it. Now!”
Kord’s dragon nipped at his edges, wanting out to protect its mate, and it was all he could do to hold back the beast.
“As you wish.” Maran’s black gaze turned to Lily, still restrained by Zanralth. She froze in place, her chest rising and falling with her agitation.
Ducking behind another boulder, Kord considered his options. His mother would need at least an hour to regain her strength, and couldn’t assist with her magick. He’d have a better chance at getting Lily back unharmed if he kept his dragon leashed, at least for the moment.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t call upon his own powers. The swords of Battle Draconian materialized in his outstretched palms.
He heard Maran say, “I’ll need her blood.”
Oh, hell no. Kord’s jaw locked tight as his dragon thrashed within, clawing for dominance. Soon, he promised.
The warlock was his first target. The bastard would die for even thinking about harming his mate. On swift, silent feet, Kord edged forward, shielding his approach behind the scattered boulders.
Bakka silently joined him. Although he’d yet to reach maturity, his little brother was a fierce fighter. Zanralth might be stronger, but Bakka was smarter, a great advantage in any battle.
Peering around one of the bigger rocks, he spotted Zanralth dragging Lily toward the warlock, who now held a black-handled dagger.
Glancing at Bakka, he nodded, a wordless command for him to draw the Diablian’s attention, giving Kord the chance to dispatch the warlock to hell’s realm.
Bakka mouthed, “Right,” as they moved into position.
And not a second too soon, because Maran grabbed Lily’s wrist and held the serrated edge above the fragile skin, chanting in a language unknown to him. Kord prepared to charge, never taking his focus off the warlock, the sun glinting off the steel blade.
As if sensing his approach, Tasha turned and spotted him. Her eyes grew wide, then flashed with wrath, before she raised her arms and disappeared, shielding herself behind her protective cloak. A cloak Kord could have easily shattered, if not for the need to remain focused on the current threats. The rogue and Zanralth.
Just as he couldn’t harm Aventasha while she hid behind her magick, she couldn’t harm anyone from there either.
He swiftly approached, and Lily’s gaze met his as he came up behind the warlock. Kord shook his head in warning. As he drew near and lifted his swords to gut Maran, Zane barked out, “Kordlith of Draconian.”
Then everything happened in a rush of motion . . .
Maran released Lily’s arm, and she dropped to the ground and rolled away. The warlock spun around, electricity zinging from his fingertips, sending a sharp bolt into Kord’s chest that knocked him back a good foot.
As Bakka rushed Zanralth, Kord shifted into dragon. He couldn’t have stopped if he’d wanted to. And he didn’t, although a sliver of regret pierced his heart that Lily would see him at his most lethal. Stronger as dragon, he’d protect his mate and his family by any means, regardless of the consequences.
His battle swords fell and his clothing disintegrated as he unfurled his wings and charged the warlock. Kord snatched him up in his steel jaws and began shaking him like a ragdoll.
The coward screamed, begging for mercy.
There would be no mercy.
All the rage over his father’s injuries, the death of the bezom�
��s infant, the fact that these assholes dared put their filthy paws on his mate . . . it exploded through him.
Bolts of lightning bit at his dragon scales as the warlock called upon his magick in a vain attempt at survival. Ignoring the sharp pulsing jabs, Kord shook his head like a dog, until the warlock hung limp from his jaw, and the skies grew calm.
Brackish blood flowed in rivers to the ground, the coppery stench of death burning his nostrils. His dragon now in full command, Kord snapped his jaws shut and sliced Maran in half. The lower trunk and legs thudded to the ground as Kord, still in a rage, tossed the torso high into the air.
When it came back down, he caught it by the head between his massive teeth, crunching down through cartilage and bone. He shook it harder as the wriggling lineus’ death song erupted, loud and shrill in the air. Once they were silenced, Kord spat the putrid remains onto the ground, watching as the worms grayed, then blew away in a mess of ashy dust.
Rage still burning him up, he struggled to calm his dragon until he could shift back. The first thing his brain registered was Bakka helping Lily to her feet.
The coward Zanralth was nowhere around.
The bitter taste of blood coated his tongue. Kord spat a few more times, then swiped the back of his hand across his mouth.
And met Lily’s wide-eyed stare.
Covered in blood, flames still alight in his eyes, Kord resembled something out of a nightmare. Pieces of the evil warlock’s body littered the ground, the remains of dried-up worms clinging to the severed head, as other fleshy bits floated on the breeze in a macabre kind of dance.
Lily only felt pride and satisfaction at his victory.
He’s a worthy male, her dragon said with pride. And that quickly, most of the clouds obscuring her memory dissipated, blown away with the warlock’s death.
Lily blinked hard, abruptly recalling her parents’ faces and their concern over Prince Zanralth’s unstable focus on winning her as some sort of Anglican prize.
She choked on sudden tears, picturing Embrlynn, her youngling sister, her pale blond braids and big blue eyes so like their mother. Her handsome father with his wide smile . . .
How could she have thoroughly forgotten her family?
Staring again at the chunks of blood-spattered witchery on the ground at Kord’s bare feet, all her hatred drained right out, mingling with what was left of the warlock Maran. Suddenly she felt strong. Invincible.
She soaked in the tantalizing picture of her mate, standing naked and proud, and knew she couldn’t lie to herself. His brute strength and savage beauty, when he became the dragon prince, excited her. In human form, he was equally as delectable. Teeth still clenched with battle fury, nostrils flaring, Kord’s intensity inflamed her, a possessive force that sent desire pooling deep within her belly.
Why didn’t you get through to me earlier? she snapped at her dragon.
The beast huffed. You weren’t listening.
Lily’s breath caught as her eyes traveled over Kord’s hard body, painted red with the warlock’s blood, every one of his muscles flexing in the most hypnotizing way.
Bakka coughed loudly as he tossed a robe at his brother. “Mates. So predictable.”
Kord met her gaze, his tense posture easing. Wrapping the robe around his waist like a towel, he knotted the leather sash. Leaving his chest bare and the sleeves hanging at his sides, he reached her in two long strides.
Studying her cheek where Tasha had struck her, his expression turned stormy. “You all right?” He didn’t make a move to touch her.
Overwhelmed by the memories filling her up, Lily’s voice deserted her. All she knew was a desperate need for his arms around her.
Kord barked Bakka’s name, who stepped over to him. Silently he wiped off the blood on his brother’s shirt.
“Hey,” Bakka protested, with a chuckle, “what the hell?”
“Where’s Zane?”
Bakka shrugged. “Disappeared, along with the lovely and poisonous Aventasha. And good riddance.” He produced a wineskin, and poured its contents, clear water, over Kord’s shoulders and hands. “Here.” He whipped off his stained shirt and tossed it to Kord. “It’s ruined anyway.”
Never taking his eyes off Lily, Kord grated, “I won’t let that bastard’s blood near my mate.” He managed to wipe the worst of it off, then pulled the robe up over his damp chest and shrugged into the sleeves before sweeping her into his arms.
She rested her head above his heart, grateful for his support as her legs shook beneath her.
“Can’t fault your reasoning,” Bakka replied, outright laughter in his voice now. He cleared his throat and continued, “Zanralth winked out in the middle of a beat-down. For an instant, I spotted Tasha, then they were both gone.”
“No doubt she cloaked him in her magick.” Kord supported the base of Lily’s spine with one hand while the other made slow, gentle strokes down her back. “I sensed her for a moment right before I ate, er, disposed of Maran.”
Bakka snorted. The derisive sound forced a giggle from her lips. She would bet if she looked, she’d see her mate scowling. They were both adorable. And they’d come to her rescue. As they always would. She never had to worry about that.
The rest of Lily’s anxiety fell away.
She raised her eyes to her mate. “That other male. He’s the one who stalked me.”
Kord kissed her forehead. “I know.”
Bakka smiled gently at her. “We’ve suspected for some time. We were sure when the discussion at breakfast this morning turned to the Anglican royals—”
“I remembered them. As soon as that repulsive worm-headed freak died. It was like a fog cleared.” She gazed up at her handsome mate. “Kord, I spoke to my dragon.”
Kord grinned, lifting his hand for a high-five with his brother. “That’s terrific news, little one.”
“I remembered my mother and father. My sister, Embrlynn. I call her Embry.” Lily’s memories tumbled faster now. “She sits in the garden and sings off-key so loudly, it scares the trefoils from the upper towers. Mother scolds her, and Father always laughs—”
Sudden tears trickled down her cheeks and dripped onto Kord’s loosely tied robe. She whispered hoarsely, “Now he hasn’t laughed in over a year.” She raised blurry eyes to Kord, focusing on the compassionate glint in his regard.
Taking her hand, Kord pressed his lips against her palm. “He’ll laugh in utter joy when I send word that you’re alive and well. I’m sure we’ll be hearing from them very soon.”
Lily’s stomach fluttered at the thought of reacquainting herself with the family she’d lost for so long. How had their lives been affected by her disappearance?
“Do you really think Tasha had something to do with what happened to me last year?” she finally asked.
“More than ever I’m sure of it.”
“With the warlock’s help, of course,” Bakka added darkly.
Lily looked past Kord, to where blood-coated body parts were being carried off by huge birds of prey. Gruzzords, no doubt. Even as she wanted to cheer because she’d recalled the name of these aggressive birds, she wrinkled her nose at the smell of dead warlock. “Eww. Should we at least bury him?”
“No,” Kord bit out as he turned her away from the feeding frenzy. “Let the scavengers have what’s left. We need to get back to see how the king is doing.”
“Father’s going to be fine,” Bakka assured them as they started walking. “Though he’s distressed over the bezom’s hatchling.”
“A bezom?” Lily asked. A vague image of a monstrous, many-finned lake beast with hundreds of deadly teeth came to mind. “I remember those.” She gulped at yet another bit of significance. “Gods, I do. I remember. What happened?”
Kord wrapped his arm around her shoulder, holding her close.
“I’ll tell you later. First, I want my mother to tend your injury, and I need to clean up.”
Lily glanced up at him, her heart warmed by his concern. “I’m fine, Kord. It was a little slap.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously as he studied her face. “Our queen’s magick might still be weakened. That won’t stop her from wanting to heal you. We won’t allow a mark to linger on your lovely skin.” He glanced at Bakka. “Tasha will pay for her actions. How she thought she’d ever get away with this treachery is beyond me.”
“And Zanralth?” Bakka asked, his tone serious for once.
“When the Diablian prince went after my mate, he broke our most sacred edict.”
Lily could almost taste his fury as he vowed, “It’s within my rights to punish him as I see fit.”
Chapter 13
In a far corner of a dank cave, Tasha paced furiously. Shadows dimmed the guano-covered ceiling, too low to accommodate a fully-shifted dragon. Between the mold that grew in stalagmite formations, and the rotten stink of bat shit, she could have readily gagged. Tasha swallowed it down, refusing to reveal any weakness to the Diablian piece of princely dung cowering against the only available wall.
“Worthless. Cowardly. Idiot.” She bit off each word and flung them at Zane’s head like daggers. She half-expected him to duck.
Instead, he shivered and whined, “I wanted the female. You promised her to me.”
Tasha rounded on him, her claws out and poised to shred skin. “It is over, you mindless moron. She is mated in deed at the very least. Enough to protect her from your questionable libido. And the warlock—” She paused, too incensed for coherency. Her glittering gold gown crackled against the cluttered stone floor as she resumed pacing.
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