by Kira Nyte
Cade transformed, indicating he was through talking.
Taryn was not, but right now, his concern belonged to Gabriella.
For the second time since she’d come into his life, he’d nearly lost her. For the second time, Goddess granted her to return.
He cradled her in an awkward hold and used the talons in his hands, and a little lift from Cade’s wing, to hoist them both onto the older dragon’s back. He settled her across his lap, secured his hold on Cade’s spines, and issued a sharp kick.
Cade took off.
Gabriella groaned and her smooth forehead wrinkled in a puzzled frown. Her hand went straight to her side. A grimace stretched her lips.
“Easy, my darling angel. I’ve got you.”
“Why do I hurt so bad?”
Her lashes fluttered before her eyes peeled open to slits.
Cade banked back toward the veil, increasing his speed.
“What do you remember?” Taryn asked.
Gabriella winced, her knees drawing toward her chest.
“My side. Something happened. It’s all a blur.” She reached up and touched one of the many lacerations that covered his arms. In his panic over Gabriella, he’d forgotten about his own wounds. “You’re hurt.”
“Oh no, love.”
For the second time in a day, his eyes pricked with tears.
They reached the veil, the darkness of the cavern hiding his emotional break from his sweet Gabriella.
“I’m well and good. You’re in my arms. How could I not be?”
They broke through the veil. Cade spread his wings and glided through the sky, snaking closer toward their home.
“You almost lost me. Again.”
Releasing his hold on Cade’s spine, he lifted Gabriella and pressed his lips to her forehead.
“Angel, you won’t get rid of me that easily. Not ever.”
“I don’t ever want to be rid of you.”
He mustered a grin. “Good, because you’re mine. Mine to love, cherish, spoil, and adore. Forever.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“How could you!”
Darieth’s rage produced a vile wind tunnel within his chambers. Ceramic and crystal shattered on the pristine marble floor. Weapons clattered as they loosened from their hooks on the walls. Wood creaked as the wind strengthened.
“How, Malla?” He thrust his hand out.
Malla flew backward. She braced herself for impact, protecting her spine and head with a magical shield a half-breath before she collided with the door.
Her father did not release her, keeping her pinned to the door several feet off the floor.
He stormed through the destruction raining down around them.
His fingers fisted.
Malla clenched her teeth. Pain seared through her veins.
He twisted his fist.
She squeezed her eyes tight, refusing to let him see the agony he caused as her lungs constricted and her spine felt as if it were about to split in two.
She balled her fists against the door.
“How!”
Lips peeled back from her teeth, Malla opened her eyes to slits. He did not deserve the tears he wrung from her. Not when they were tears of agony.
“I was attacked,” she said through her teeth. “I would have died.”
“You had a woman.” He thrust his fist forward. Malla swore her spine snapped then. She couldn’t swallow the distressed moan before it escaped her lips. Two tears crept down her cheeks. “You had another woman! And you left her!”
Darieth whipped his arm down.
Malla slammed to the floor on her hands and knees. The pain in her spine faded, replaced by the throb in her knees.
She lifted her head enough to watch Darieth’s boots as he paced around her.
The storm of broken bits and pieces of some of his most prized possessions began to slow their swirl through the air.
“Not only one woman, Malla, but two.” He dropped to a crouch in front of her. Invisible fingers grabbed her hair and jerked her head up and back. Silvery black smoke began to twist in the air. Darieth guided the magical essence with a precise motion of his fingers until a black key appeared. “Do you know what that is?”
“A…key.” He was cutting off her airway by forcing her head back so far.
“But of course you would state the obvious.” He scowled. “I’m beginning to believe I mistook you for being more like me than the woman who whelped you. I have no time to waste waiting for you to stop fucking up.”
With a flick of Darieth’s hand, Malla jerked onto her own feet like a puppet responding to its master’s yank on the strings. The doors opened and two of Darieth’s guards entered. Neither made eye contact with her.
“You’ve had your chances. You’ve failed twice. I would kill a soldier who failed me twice, Malla, but you’ve depleted my army too much with your incompetence for me to deliver punishment accordingly.”
He handed the key to one of the guards. Malla refused to look away from him.
“We’ve lost one of our breeders. We’re down to five. Five women. That old whore you sent is useless to me. She won’t bear me any child of worth.” His dark eyes flashed. The tattoos that marked the sides of his partially shaven head swirled in black and silver as his fury cooled. “All you had to do was bring me those two women. Those two lifemates. The dragons would follow. But you couldn’t even do that. You’ve shamed me, and I don’t take lightly to any woman shaming me.”
“I’m your daughter,” Malla declared out of spite, the sneer that curled her lips anything but proud.
“I’m beginning to wonder if I should have drowned you in the lake the minute you took your first breath.” He whipped his duster around him when he spun away from her. “Maybe you’ll provide me better fruit from your womb than you have with your sadly lacking battle skills.”
The guards grabbed her by either arm and escorted her from Darieth’s chambers. Their fingers bit into her biceps and their long strides caused her to stumble more times than not.
One of the men chuckled. “Oh, Malla. You have no idea how long we’ve waited for this moment.” His hand clapped against her ass and squeezed.
The unwanted touch made her cringe inwardly, but she kept her mask of indifference on her face. We are all products of another’s ultimate plan.
Her powers stirred through her body as they approached the hallway that led to the breeding cells. Screams of pleasure and pain filtered through the walls. Many of the soldiers had been killed in the latest battle. Those who survived took out their frustration on the poor women behind the closed doors.
She’d witnessed matings more than once. Vile and painful. The men left the women bruised and bloody, covered in bodily fluids they didn’t bother to wash from themselves because they had been broken.
And yet, the women always asked for more.
Not her.
The guards dragged her to the end of the hallway, unlocked a door with the black key, and shoved her inside the opulently decorated cell.
She half expected them to leave her, but when one followed her in and the other slammed the door shut and stayed outside, a sickening sense of satisfaction filled her.
The guard tugged at his belt, wasting no time.
“Waited so long for you to fuck up. And I’m going to be the first to break you.”
She folded her fingers lightly over the dark powers forming against her palms. A cold smile spread her lips.
“Let’s see you try.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
“So, I check out?” Gabby asked. She looked past Amelia to meet Taryn’s unwavering gaze. He remained perched in a chair at the bedside, shirtless, his arms slathered in salve. He told Gabby he didn’t need the salve’s magic to heal his shredded wings, but for Amelia’s sake, he allowed her to nurse the lacerations.
Amelia shook her hands, the hazy gold light fizzling out. “Yes. She healed you.” Her lips pursed. She turned to Taryn. “I don’t understan
d why. Why heal Gabby only to leave her behind?”
Taryn shrugged. “Honestly, Meel, I don’t care right now. What I do care about is Gabriella. Alive.” His nostrils flared. “I guess I might have to actually thank my enemy when I next see her, which hopefully won’t be before my death in a couple hundred years.”
“You’re lucky Briella had that vision when she did. Things might have ended much worse.”
Taryn scowled, picking dried salve from his forearm. Gabby dropped her hand over his. The tension she sensed mounting in his shoulders subsided.
“Gabriella impaled on one of my own spines is pretty untoppable in my book.”
Amelia laughed and shook her head. She flicked a finger at his arm. “Leave it on overnight. You can wash it off in the morning.”
Gabby picked up her mug of steaming tea. “I know. Drink this for pain and continued healing.”
“See, Taryn? Why can’t you just listen to direc—stop picking at the salve.”
Gabby giggled into her mug, earning a raised brow and a mischievous look from her dragon. Amelia swatted at his head with her scarf.
Taryn caught the fabric and tsked. “Now, see? We’re in my world, Meel. No swatting allowed.”
“Aww.” Amelia pinched his cheek in an almost motherly fashion. Gabby couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Have a good night, children. I’ll be around tomorrow to check those wounds.”
Gabby listened, holding the mug between her hands, as Amelia’s steps receded through the house. Taryn tapped a finger on his knee in time with each step.
The rock door slid open. It closed.
“Thank Goddess!” Taryn jumped out of the chair, stripped out of his pants, and hurried to the shower. Gabby placed her mug on the nightstand and twisted enough for her side to start aching. She didn’t care. She had a perfect view of Taryn’s ass and muscled back as water poured down over him. His dragon tattoo moved with the flex of his muscles as he scrubbed the salve from his skin. “This stuff is horrendous! It’s making me itch all over, and I don’t have allergic reactions!”
“I’m beginning to think she pulled a prank on you.”
Taryn cast a dark look over his shoulder. Gabby shrugged.
“If I didn’t nearly lose you less than an hour ago, I might be well inclined to punish you.”
Gabby pushed herself upright in the bed. The movement pulled the tender, newly healed wound in her side and she winced.
“Damn, love. Lay back down. Don’t strain yourself.”
Gabby stayed up until Taryn finished in the shower, dried himself roughly with a towel and returned to the bed with the towel around his waist. He maneuvered her until he laid her back on the pillows painlessly.
Ever tender, her dragon.
Taryn dropped the towel and climbed into bed beside her, gathering her close. She tucked her head in the crook of his shoulder, inhaling the clean, smoky scent from his skin.
“Guess I broke my promise for tonight,” Gabby teased.
“I’m okay with it. I think we had enough rough tumbling today. Just not the good kind.” Taryn drew his fingers back and forth over her arm. “This, right here, right now, is perfect. These little moments that too many people take for granted. The simple act of being.”
She traced the dip beneath his pec. “Do you have any theories as to why she did it?”
Taryn lifted his head to catch her eyes. “Saved you?” Gabby nodded. He dropped his head back. “I never thought I’d say this, but I don’t care why. All I know is that I’m thankful she did. I can’t bear to lose you, angel.”
She snuggled closer. “I don’t ever want to be without you, Taryn.”
“Then we have an understanding.”
“A forever understanding.”
His lips pressed against the top of her head.
Gabby listened to the sound of Taryn’s heart beating in his chest until she felt herself falling to sleep.
“A woman tortured recognizes another’s torture.”
Gabby tried to open her eyes, but as hard as she fought, she remained blind in an odd paralysis of memory.
“Do you believe in redemption?”
The air around her pressed hard against her chest. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move.
“I didn’t think so.”
Release me! Release me now!
Gabby gasped for air.
“Everyone has secrets.”
That voice. That strange, soothing voice.
“This is my decision. This madness has to stop.”
The paralysis released her and she shot upright. Taryn was beside her before the pain in her side had time to register. He pulled her close and she grimaced, pressing a hand to her waist.
“What happened?”
As the pain waned and her mind cleared, she leaned back, leveling her gaze on Taryn.
“Her secrets,” she murmured. Taryn’s eyes narrowed. “Did she talk to me while she healed me?”
“Whatever magic she used was soundproof, but her mouth moved.”
Gabby raked a hand through her hair, trying to make sense of the flash memories. Secrets. Redemption. Torture.
Taryn cupped the side of her face, drawing her focus back to him as something switched in her brain. “Love?”
“She recognized me as tortured because she was tortured.” Her eyes widened. “Oh my God, that might be why she killed Jack.”
“Wait, how do you know she killed anyone?” Her look must have been enough. “Okay, she’s got history. I know. But Jack?”
“She used my mother to find me, right? Or that’s what we think? She must have tracked me to the trailer, but you had already rescued me. If she knew about my past because she’s familiar with it herself, that’s motive.”
“Umm, you’re losing me.”
Gabby groaned and shook her head. “Listen, if what I’m recalling are bits and pieces of her conversation with me while near death, I think she saved me on purpose. For some attempt at redemption. She referred to something as ‘madness.’ That the ‘madness’ had to stop. She made a decision.” Gabby’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know if what I heard was her speaking or maybe her thoughts, or both. What I can speculate is that she felt some kind of kinship with me and that’s why she saved me.”
Taryn gauged her seriously before nodding once. “I won’t discount anything at this point. All I know is that she did what none of us expected and I can hold you in my arms tonight, and for years to come, because of it.”
The wave of energy abandoned her and she sank back into Taryn’s arms, curling against him beneath the covers.
“We’ll discuss it with Cade tomorrow. He might be able to shed some light on the subject.” Taryn twisted to face her and comb his fingers through her hair. “For the rest of tonight, and all the nights to come, it’s about us. The battles hold no place in our bed.”
Oh, he was so good at defusing unwanted conversations.
“Well, there are battles that happen in bed—”
“Gabriella Chovetz,” he warned.
Gabby sighed and smiled. “I like that.”
“It’s perfect.”
“Like us.”
Taryn brought his mouth to hers. “There’s nothing more perfect than the love we’ve built together.” He kissed her. “Nothing, my darling angel.”
THE END
Watch for Storm of Flames, The Firestorm Chronicles, coming Summer 2019!
About the Author
Born and raised a Jersey girl with easy access to NYC, Kira was never short on ideas for stories. She started writing at the tender age of 11, and her passion for creating worlds exploded from that point on. Romance came later, but since then, all of her heroes and heroines find their happily ever after, even if it takes a good fight, or ten, to get there.
Kira resides in Central Florida with her husband, four children, two bunnies, two hermit crabs, and a parakeet. She works part-time as a nurse when she’s not writing or traveling between sports, other activities, or her chara
cters’ worlds.
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