Rayse couldn’t answer to a human through his dragon form. He inspected the destruction and noticed most of the corpses were male. Who were these dragons and why were they abducting the women?
“I want a scouting of this area. Find any survivors and bring them in for treatment.”
Shen and Fraser bowed their heads. “Yes, milord.”
“Send someone to put out these fires. I don’t want it spreading and burning resources.”
“Yes, milord.”
“And…” For fuck’s sake. What had gotten into him? Damn woman. “And… th-thank you. The both of you.”
The two dragons looked at each other quizzically.
“I’m sorry, milord?” Shen asked.
“Thank you for your service. Now, stop gawking. Back to work.”
Shen cocked his head. “Uh, yes, milord.”
Confusion sprawled over Shen and Fraser’s faces as they marched off to do as commanded.
Rayse’s boots crunched against the rocky ground. He jogged back home. What would Constance say when she saw him? Was she still going to be mad?
The wretched woman had gotten into his head. She’d made him embarrass himself in front of his two most trusted men.
Goddammit, she drives me crazy.
Should he apologize?
He’d already said sorry once to her. The word was foreign to his lips. He didn’t like giving it away so easily.
Snow had covered the streets in front of their home. One unusual spot was thin with snow, as if a scuffle had occurred there.
He stilled his beating heart. He hadn’t decided what to say to her. Should he even have to make it up to her? What had he done other than act on his own instincts? He shouldn’t have to suppress his own nature for the sake of a woman he barely knew.
Before his hand reached the doorknob, the tip of his boot nudged a letter on the ground.
He frowned and picked up the envelope.
He scanned its contents:
We have your femriahl.
Meet us in front of the castle when the afternoon sky is at the highest and a crowd has gathered.
I challenge you to a duel for the position of femrah.
A rumble tore from his throat. Who had dared take Constance?
He crushed the paper in his hands.
We should have claimed her, his dragon chastised him. No, things would have been the same even if he had made his mark on her. These people took her because of him. He shouldn’t have left her alone like that. His selfishness and possessiveness had been his demise. The sensible thing would have been to give Constance Shen or Fraser as a bodyguard. But jealousy had misted reason.
The kidnapper would have her out as bait, to weaken his mental state as they dueled.
The perpetrator could have issued a duel without taking Constance. A clan leader was never allowed to turn down such a challenge. This man needed her to threaten Rayse somehow, so that he would have to exchange his victory for her safety.
Bastard.
Should anything happen to Constance, he wouldn’t forgive himself. He’d spent hundreds of years searching for her, and he had let her slip through his fingers before he’d ever gotten to know her.
He would not let this kidnapper have his way.
Chapter 10
Where had those pieces of shit hidden his wife?
The afternoon sun hung high in the sky like an overseer. It was time. They had yet to find Constance.
Rayse stood beside the steps of Dragon Keep, awaiting the challenger. A bustling crowd had gathered. They buzzed around like flies. With him and all his warriors gathering around the square, the onlookers sensed something interesting was sure to happen. He restrained the need to bark at them to get back to work.
“Any news?” he asked Shen.
Shen shook his head. “One night is too short a time to scour the whole vicinity. Dragon wings can travel far.”
“As expected.” Rayse cursed himself for not taking more precautions. He should have known she would be vulnerable. If anything happened to her…
Fuck. He didn’t want to think about it.
“Damn Dragon Mother,” he said. “The goddess’s awakening is making all the dragons power-hungry.”
His body was exhausted but his mind stayed on high alert. He hadn’t slept for two nights, and even though he was a dragon, his kind needed sleep. His dragon wouldn’t allow him to rest until Constance was properly marked with his scent.
He wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long.
An ash-blonde male stepped out into the clearing. Haughtiness plastered his face in an ugly pattern. Rayse knew this boy. This red dragon had challenged him once before, and Rayse had handed his ass right back to him and humiliated him in front of the clan. Rayse had punished this overconfident brute by cutting the tip of his tail off.
Rayse balled his hands into fists. “Return me my femriahl, and maybe I won’t string you up like a pig.”
The imbecile spat at the ground. “Over my dead body.”
“I guess I’m just going to have to make that happen, then.”
“I challenge you to the position of femrah,” Ranwynn said loudly so the crowd could hear.
Rayse called to his dragon and his bones grew, snapped, and clicked into place. His dragon roared in a release of rage. Ranwynn transformed as Rayse did, and soon red and black dragons circled each other on the battlefield.
Rayse lunged at the red dragon. It tried to dodge, but his teeth caught its half-severed tail. He threw Ranwynn at the ground, spraying snow into the air. He leapt at his opponent’s vulnerable form.
Within seconds, Ranwynn was pinned beneath him, throat exposed.
The fight didn’t even last a blink. The young, foolish dragon was no match for Rayse.
“I will make you go through unspeakable torture if you don’t tell me where is she now.” He was probably going to torture Ranwynn to death anyway.
“Over. My. Dead. Body.”
Rayse breathed his black fire over Ranwynn’s face. Dragons couldn’t be hurt by fire. It was a threat.
Ranwynn snickered. “You cannot hurt me.”
“Watch me.”
“You can’t, because your mate is nearby right now. One of my men has her captive and he’s a witness to this duel. If I die, she does. If you continue to hurt me, she will be hurt. I don’t think you want her pretty face scarred, do you?”
And there it was—the blackmail Rayse had expected. At this very moment, his warriors were scouring the whole area, trying to find Constance. If they found her, they would breathe fire into the air. He watched the skies for a signal. It didn’t come.
Ranwynn continued in his singsong voice, “Think about what he could be doing right now. I wonder, does she still have all her limbs?”
Rayse hissed and stumbled back.
“Good boy.”
The red dragon stood up and crashed against Rayse.
“This is going to be fun.” A cackle scratched from Ranwynn’s lungs.
Constance’s hands were free.
Almost.
They were secured with a nice, easily untied ribbon she had done herself, so her captors wouldn’t notice they were loose. The thickheaded dragons were too distracted with their plan to realize she’d cut the sloppily tied rope with a sharp rock ages ago. Now, she just had to wait for the opportune moment to get past the brute next to her. Ashur—Ranwynn had called him that.
Her body wanted to shut down from the fear. They’d manhandled her. She doubted she had even spent that much time in contact with other men during her entire childhood. She fought against her fears. She had to face them eventually.
She was hyperaware of the kitchen knife tied to her thigh. When Ashur was sufficiently distracted, she was going to disable him and get away. A simple enough plan. Hopefully the thief skills she obtained during her childhood had stuck. But that had been fourteen long years ago. Those skills had probably rusted and snapped off like too-old iron.
They
were holding her in Dragon Keep itself, but within a weathered crack of the castle. Her three kidnappers had discussed how Rayse and his men wouldn’t think to look there. They’d go for the most obvious places—houses, caves, and forests, perhaps. Places where dragons liked to gather. It wouldn’t strike them to search the place they were supposed to meet up.
The cavern was near the base of the castle, neatly tucked and hidden between a row of buildings. Despite that, there was sufficient space for Constance to view the battlefield where Rayse fought Ranwynn.
Her heart lurched and her breath tightened. The Black Menace had Ranwynn on the ground in seconds. But without reason, the black dragon backed away.
“Bastard’s sure having a blast,” Ashur said. He craned his neck to give him a better view. “Wish I could join in.”
Now’s the time. She undid the rope and snapped her hands free. Hastily, she pulled the knife from her makeshift sheath and crept toward her captor.
He heard her. Dragon ears were sharp.
“Sit back—”
She lunged at him like a gazelle and plunged the knife at his heart. Hesitancy caught her—she was not a killer, and at the last moment, her arm shifted and the weapon went off-center. It dug into his skin nevertheless. He growled in pain and reached out a hand.
Instincts from her childhood flared and she ducked down. She swept his feet from under him, and he landed on his back. I’m fighting a dragon, she thought, wondering where all this strength had come from. A pounding strained in her ears. She aimed the knife at his kneecap. Her skin crawled when she heard the crack of bone.
Hurting people wasn’t in her blood. She was a healer.
“Damn wench!”
He’ll take a while to recover from that. Dragon or not. She got on her feet and zipped out onto the streets, not believing that she had just done that. Fear was still crawling through her insides.
But she’d forgotten a key detail in her panic—dragons had wings. Ashur’s leg was incapacitated, but brown wings sprouted from his back and he was on her trail in an instant.
She turned her eyes from him and pressed on as quickly as she could. Her sight met the clearing. Her view wasn’t clear, but she saw Ranwynn’s jaws over Rayse’s throat. The red dragon swung Rayse into a mass of buildings, smashing them. Why isn’t he fighting back? She realized she didn’t want him to get hurt. Fight back, you big moron.
“Little minx,” she heard from right behind her. Ashur had caught up already.
A sharp breath caught in her throat. She grasped her knife tightly.
As she spun to meet her opponent, a blur of a yellow dragon swept across her. Ashur flew into a wall.
The dragon was all muscle and power. Her savior threw his head back and breathed fire into the air.
Rayse caught the signal. He recognized Shen’s yellow flames.
Ranwynn had tried to steal his pride in front of the crowd, but not any longer. Shen had found Constance, which meant this bastard’s time had ran out.
The young dragon dived at Rayse, vengeance burning like a tempest in his gaze. Rayse dodged the attack easily, then threw himself at the smaller dragon. They crashed onto the ground, sweeping up a cloud of snow and dust.
“You can’t hurt me,” Ranwynn said. Rayse had rolled the red dragon onto its back.
He was on top, and he could take his subject’s life at any time. Rayse’s nostrils flared smoke. “Your plans are foiled.” He pressed his talon over his opponent.
“He’ll kill her. I-I’m not joking! He’ll rip her head clean off.” It sounded odd to hear such a weak statement in Dragon Tongue. It was a dignified language, usually spoken with the low tones of the mighty beasts.
“My warrior has found her. You have no more leverage, fool.”
His jaw snapped over the bone of Ranwynn’s wings. He pulled, and the cartilage was shredded clean off. He had warned this dragon to not cross him by taking off the tip of his tail the first time. Ranwynn didn’t deserve any more leniency. Especially not after threatening Rayse’s mate.
“Don’t! Please.” A woman’s voice sounded from a distant. One of Rayse’s subjects rushed from the crowd. “He will never challenge you again. My boy was foolish, please.”
He spotted Constance running toward him. She was watching his every action.
Compassion—she had reprimanded him about that just a day before.
He stared down at the perpetrator. He needed to be magnanimous to be liked, but surely not for someone who dared harm them this way?
“Please, milord, I’ll do anything. Please don’t take my son away from me.” Tears streamed in bucket loads from the mother’s face. If he didn’t want to give compassion to the lowlife, then he could at least allow pity for this woman who didn’t want to lose a child.
His dragon eyes narrowed. He tore the other wing from Ranwynn’s back and tossed it aside. A cry croaked from the red dragon.
He boomed, “You will never fly again. You will never threaten me or my femriahl again.”
Horror sliced through Ranwynn’s features. “Curse you… burn in hell, you fucker.” The blood loss was apparently too much, for Ranwynn fell unconscious right after.
It was over. Rayse’s mate pushed her way past the crowd. She stood in the middle of the clearing, wind blowing her hair past her face. Blood covered her frock in a sticky mess. His stomach dipped. Was she hurt? Determination lit her eyes. Little fire, he thought.
He paced toward her, calling to his human form.
He was naked when he turned back, but he didn’t care for the gazes of others. Dragons and their wives were used to this technicality of shifting.
Constance’s sight was fixated on him. What did she think of him now that she’d seen the beast inside him? She surprised him by strolling tentatively toward him.
Her hair was a tousled mess of snow and chestnut browns. She wasn’t injured, he realized. The red on her frock belonged to someone else. He met her caramel gaze.
Her lower lip quivered when she reached out. She caught a stray lock of his hair and brushed it aside. His mouth went dry. Her fingers grazed his face, just barely, and wherever they went, they left static electricity.
He gently reached to grab her wrist. He pulled her close, until her head was right beneath his chin. Then he looked down at her. He heard her unsteady breath. Her scent of flowers and spirit intoxicated him.
Take her now.
He didn’t want to ruin the moment with another frenzy, so he pushed his instincts aside. For once, she’d come to him, reached out to him. His heart beat furiously in his chest. He knew the clan was watching, but they weren’t his concern.
He was in a bubble. A moment where all that mattered was Constance and him.
“I’m sorry for letting them take you,” he said. What was this woman thinking beneath that tough expression? Next to him, the wall she’d put up was slowly breaking down, and the crease in her brow softened. “Are you scared? You’ve seen me in dragon form.”
She winced at his touch, but quickly said, “Sorry, I’m just getting used to the idea.” He tried not to let her fear bother him too much. Her delicate lips were quivering. He resisted the need to rub his thumb over the soft curves of her mouth. He could still smell the stench of other dragons on her.
“I don’t think it’s you whom I should be afraid of.”
He should wipe it away the other men’s scent and cover her with his mark. “Who, then?”
“This place. Myself. I’m not sure.” She peered up at him. “Why didn’t you fight back?”
Was that concern in her features? Perhaps his imagination had projected such expressions on her. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. He said you would face harm if I fought back.”
She swallowed. He followed the movement of the muscles on her neck but couldn’t read her face. “What are you thinking, little fire?”
“That you’re a silly beast.”
He was beginning to think he was, because moments with her didn’t make him feel
like himself anymore.
“Maybe,” he said.
He took a beating to protect her.
Constance let that thought soak in her mind. He was inches from her, and a snake was coiling around her chest, suffocating her. But not because she feared him. She wanted him. And that was terrifying. She heard his breathing, smelled his scent of ash and fire. She could stand on tiptoes and her lips would be pressed against his.
When Ranwynn had kept her in that dark place for a whole night, all she could think of was how Rayse would come. He’d protect her. Deep down, she believed that, even though she had little reason to. She was beginning to trust this man, and that thought consumed her very being.
He tipped her chin up with a finger and her heart slammed with anticipation.
Could she allow him to kiss her? If she let him in too much, he might shatter her. Her past was a constant stain on her state of mind, but Rayse was loosening its grip on her.
She dipped her head once in approval. Her hands were trembling, but she lifted them and placed them on his waist anyway. She daren’t reach higher. She was too uncertain to.
She saw desire in his smoldering midnight eyes, as he moved down to claim her.
The touch of his mouth on hers sent her spiraling. Heat rushed to her center as her soul mewled in approval. An uncontrollable urge to have this man flooded her being, and that almost made her want to pull away. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. She could only concentrate on how good his kiss felt.
He dug his hand into her hair and back, and then she was pressed tighter against him. He wasn’t clothed. That made a blush heat her face like a furnace. Where did this confidence of hers come from? Her hands were shaking at his sides, still. Her pounding heart wouldn’t calm. A soft moan came from her lips as they parted for him.
All men are monsters. But not this one.
He did his very best not to force himself on her, as much as it pained him. He would suffer humiliation and defeat even though he was the most powerful man in Gaia, for her sake. It confused her so much. What had she done to deserve him?
Obsidian Wings (Soul of a Dragon Book 1) Page 7