Ruthless Knight

by Liza Street

  She could sense Nolan’s hesitance, his awe. Would he feel the same way about Tamryn when she finally uncovered her dragon form? A small part of her liked his awe, but what she wanted was what she already had—his love. And no wild beast within them could take that away.

  Charles stood before them as a dragon, emerald scales gleaming in the bright afternoon.

  “I haven’t seen you like this before,” Tamryn said as she walked up to the nearest foot. The top of her head reached the joint of his knee, no higher. “Scales suit you.”

  He huffed and stood on his hind legs, unfurling his wings. Impatient. Tamryn understood. She wanted to find their people, as well. She wanted to pinch herself for not thinking to ask Charles to carry them sooner.

  “Are you ready?” she asked Nolan.

  “No.” But he stepped forward.

  Charles held out one massive front foot. His claws were large enough to double as curved swords. Tamryn had a moment of fear before she reminded herself that she’d asked him to do this. It was her idea, not his. She couldn’t suddenly turn into a coward. Stepping toward his giant foot, she turned around so he could grasp her.

  The scales were cool and slippery where they touched her skin. Her body was squeezed. It wasn’t comfortable, but she wasn’t in pain. However, it was less the tender hold of a lover and more the immobile hold of a captor. Tamryn shook off the thought.

  All of Charles’s weight was still balanced on his hind legs. He held out his other foot for Nolan. Grim-faced, Nolan took the final step into Charles’s scaly embrace, positioning himself so he’d be able to look at Tamryn.

  “Thank you,” she said to Nolan. Her whole body felt alight with gratitude to this man who loved her enough to ride with a dragon so she could find her people.

  “I’d do anything for you,” Nolan said.

  She wanted to reach out and touch his arm, which dangled free of Charles’s foot, but they were too far away from each other.

  The dragon foot holding her gave a brief squeeze of warning. Then he bent his hind legs and launched them all into the air.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Nolan shouldn’t have been surprised at the chill in the air. After all, the higher elevation meant colder temperatures. Still, the shock of it against his face felt like a smack, like doing a belly flop into the Bering Sea.

  Tamryn’s hair came loose from its ponytail and streamed behind her, tangling with the sharp claws and winding around the green-scaled ankle of the dragon that held them. Her eyes were open wide, her mouth parted slightly. She spread her arms out to either side of her, as if she were the one with wings outstretched and soaring above the forest.

  Nolan kept his arms locked on Charles’s giant foot. He wasn’t letting go for anything.

  Entrancing, though, was Tamryn’s pure joy at being in the air. If Nolan didn’t love her so much, he’d be jealous. As it was, he was happy because she was happy. If he could bottle this moment and share it with her again and again, he’d do it.

  They had to get her dragon form to appear, that’s all there was to it. Then she could fly as often as she liked. Well, she’d have to be a little careful so they didn’t catch the attention of humans, but the Rock Creek territory stretched for miles and there were places Tamryn would be able to fly.

  Trees, boulders, lakes, and streams passed beneath them. This was so much faster than hiking, and Nolan was grateful for that. He glanced again at Tamryn, at the red ribbons of her hair, at her violet eyes were open wide to take in the view.

  Her joyous expression changed to something different. She looked puzzled. Nolan looked down to see what had caught her attention. A series of tents were nestled into the mountainside, with two vehicles parked near them.

  “Charles, get down,” Tamryn called. “They’ll see you!”

  Charles didn’t hear her, so Nolan pounded on the scaly foot that held him. “Hey! There are people down there!”

  The dragon flew lower, but instead of away from the campsite, he went toward it.

  Something Charles had said, before they’d gone into the air, had bothered Nolan. You’re clever to listen to your girlfriend, Charles had said. At the time, Nolan had been annoyed because he didn’t want Charles’s approval. But now the words echoed again.

  Girlfriend. That was it. Tamryn hadn’t known the word to mean “lover” or “sweetheart.” How did Charles know it? He was from the same time period as her.

  Charles couldn’t have had a chance to speak with anyone else. He’d led Tamryn and Nolan to believe they were the first to find him. But if he knew the word girlfriend, then he would’ve had to speak with someone from this time period, and that would’ve been a rather important point in his story of finding Tamryn.

  Charles had never lied. Nolan would’ve known; Tamryn, too. But he’d acted well, and hinted, and now he had them at his mercy.

  Tamryn sent a panicked glance to Nolan. “I don’t know what’s happening,” she said.

  “He betrayed us,” Nolan shouted.

  The air whipped against his face, feeling harsher now than it had before. Charles picked up speed as he descended, circling toward the building beneath them.

  Nolan could see the small forms of people near the tents, readying themselves to greet the dragon and his prize. These were Bronson’s people, most likely.

  “Charles, stop!” Tamryn yelled. “This is madness. Let us go, and we can talk about whatever is going on. Help me understand, please!”

  Of course, Charles didn’t respond. Their descent slowed, but they were being carried straight to their enemies.

  One of the trucks had a trailer behind it, and from this angle, it appeared there were people standing on top of it. When Charles wheeled around, Nolan caught another dimension of the trailer—it was a cage, with bars on the top and sides, and three people were trapped inside.

  Glancing over to Tamryn, he saw when she noticed the cage and the people inside of it.

  “Do you know them?” Nolan asked.

  “I—I think so.” She held a hand over her mouth, looking sick.

  As they grew closer, Nolan recognized Carl Wallen from the Bitterroot Pack, with his curly dark hair and pissed-off expression. He recognized another guy from the Bitterroots by sight, but not by name. He had a brown ponytail and beard.

  At least two Bitterroots. So, Bronson definitely had a hand in this.

  After the first skirmish, Nolan had vaguely wondered why Bronson’s people hadn’t attacked them again in the woods. Now he knew. There was no need to ambush people when you had a dragon bringing them directly to you.

  Nolan counted. In addition to Wallen and Ponytail, there were three others.

  He didn’t like his chances. If it was just him he was trying to save, maybe he could swing it. But he had Tamryn, and she was his everything.

  “Tamryn,” he said as quietly as possible. He had no idea if the dragon could hear him or not.

  She looked over. Her mouth was clamped shut, like she was afraid of screaming or throwing up.

  “Tamryn, as soon as we get down there, Charles is going to have to let us go. At least for a second. You need to run.”

  “Okay,” she said. Her eyes were shiny, like she was holding on to tears.

  “You’re gonna be fine,” Nolan said. “Be strong.”

  “My mother told me that.”

  He didn’t like the defeated slump to her shoulders.

  “Listen to me,” he said. “As soon as you’re on the ground, you run. Get cover in the woods. No matter what’s happening to me.”

  “Wait—”

  “Please,” he said. “I can endure anything if I know you’re safe.”

  Her violet eyes flashed. “And what about me? About what I can endure? You think I can be free and happy if you’re still here?”

  “We’ll get away. Together. But it might take me some time. I need you to promise me this, Tamryn.”

  Stubbornly, she looked away.

  The ground was rushing up ben
eath them. They had seconds, no more.

  “Please.”

  “Fine. I’ll run.”

  He wanted to touch her. He didn’t know if it would be the last time.

  There was the ground. Charles barreled into it, hind legs first, but he had to let go of Nolan and Tamryn before landing with his forelegs or risk squashing them. Tamryn tumbled to the ground, Nolan after her.

  Nolan was surprised that Charles hadn’t simply squashed him, but he wasn’t going to question it.

  The other men darted forward, but there was an open space in the direction of the trees. Tamryn might just be able to make it through.

  The men held guns. Fuckin’ cowards.

  “Fight like shifters,” Nolan growled at them as he stood.

  Ponytail sneered and raised his gun.

  Nolan gripped Tamryn by the elbow and dragged her up, keeping her behind him, closer to the tree line. “Run,” he urged.

  Tamryn hesitated.

  “I’ll find you—go!” He let her go and shifted into his bear, faster than he’d ever changed forms in his life. It hurt like hell, but he didn’t have the time or leisure to feel the pain.

  Protect his mate. Save his woman. Kill any bastard who thought to hurt her.

  Starting with Charles.

  Charles, who was a fucking dragon.

  His shifting worked—it distracted the men with guns. Tamryn ran toward the trees. Snarling, Nolan pivoted and faced her would-be pursuers. Chase and capture his mate? Through my dead body, he thought, roaring.

  He heard Tamryn’s footfalls behind him as she ran.

  Ponytail cocked his weapon, fired. The shot whizzed past Nolan’s ear. He listened to the woods. Tamryn’s footfalls didn’t stumble or slow. The shot had missed. Nolan roared and charged Ponytail, not willing to give him another chance with the weapon. Ponytail raised it to shoot again, but Nolan was faster. He batted the weapon out of the guy’s arms.

  A shot rang out and pain ripped through Nolan’s shoulder. Fucker! One of the other guys had gotten him. Reaching out, he raked sharp claws over the guy’s chest. The guy shrieked and fell. Probably wouldn’t get up from a wound like that, but Nolan couldn’t give a fuck.

  He couldn’t hear Tamryn running anymore. Hopefully that meant she was far away. He hoped like hell she’d listen and keep going. He’d do anything to keep these assholes from getting their hands on her.

  The dragon had disappeared. Nolan felt a moment’s panic until he saw Charles standing naked behind the other guys. Nolan rushed forward, but white-hot pain seared his leg and he fell.

  Wallen walked over to where Nolan lay on the ground. He kicked Nolan, but Nolan wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of flinching. Then Wallen’s gaze went over to the guy Nolan had attacked.

  “He’s dead,” Wallen said.

  Nolan stayed down, thinking. His leg throbbed. He wanted to attack Wallen, but Wallen was out of reach, anyway.

  At least Tamryn was far off. Nolan would heal, then he’d escape and find her.

  “We don’t have to find the queen,” Charles said. “We have her mate. She’ll come to us.”

  Nolan tried to get up, but his leg was caught. They’d shot him with a metal arrow and it was attached with wire to a crossbow. He reached down to try to pull it out, but his bear paws couldn’t get a good grip on it. He’d have to shift back to human to regain his opposable thumbs.

  The guy with the crossbow yanked. Nolan bit back a roar. He fell down again, scrambling in the dirt for purchase.

  “Put him in the cage with the others,” Charles said. “And watch the cage. If she doesn’t come for him tonight, she will soon.”

  “We leave tomorrow,” Wallen said. “Bronson wants the dragons ASAP.”

  Charles shrugged. “I suppose it doesn’t matter to me, as long as I won’t be skinned as well.”

  The bastard had cut a deal—that’s why he’d betrayed Tamryn. Protection in exchange for selling out his people.

  Nolan had met guys like him before, mostly on the fighting circuit when Nolan was still doing cage matches. This was after Em had died and he’d given up on Alaska. Guys would come into the cages with him, pretend to be his friend. Sure, they’d talk shit like everyone did, but the insults would be funny. We’re all friends here, they seemed to say. Then, when the ref blew the whistle, they’d fight dirty.

  Nolan had hated those guys. It was beyond low to pretend friendship.

  Charles was the worst of the worst.

  Nolan had been shot in the arm and now he had an arrow through the leg. He wasn’t easy to move, and he didn’t help the assholes who shepherded him over to the side of the campsite, near the trees. There, a cage waited. It was on a trailer. Smart, so they wouldn’t have to transfer the prisoners into something else for transport. Nolan saw three guys inside, each of them looking defeated and scared.

  The men half-carried, half-shoved Nolan along. Then they opened the cage, guns at the ready. The dragons inside didn’t fight. Nolan was shoved into the cage.

  Bronson’s people left the guy Nolan had mauled bleeding in the dirt.

  No loyalty. No honor. They didn’t know how to truly fight.

  Nolan hoped he’d get a second chance to teach them.

  Chapter Twenty

  Tamryn had run as promised, but she loathed herself with every step.

  She should have stayed back. She should have fought at her mate’s side, as her mother had fought at her father’s side. Instead, like a coward, she had promised Nolan she would run.

  She’d heard his roars of pain and anger. She’d seen him fall to the ground.

  Charles hadn’t let Nolan live—why should he? Nolan meant nothing to Charles. But he meant everything to Tamryn.

  Why, oh why had she promised to run?

  Her legs, spurred by her own selfish need to carry her away from danger, pumped furiously. She leaped over fallen trees, dodged grasping bushes and dead branches that reached for her. When she came to a stream, she yanked off her shoes and socks, rolled up the bottoms of her pants, and forced herself to walk through the freezing water. She’d hide her scent, just like Nolan had taught her.

  White fur, stained with dark red.

  The gunshot. The crossbow. The earthshaking thud as her mate fell.

  The stranger’s pronouncement. “He’s dead.”

  Nolan had told her to be strong. He’d told her to run.

  She picked up speed, splashing down the stream, the water soaking into her pants. She didn’t know how far she’d need to go. All the way to Idaho, she guessed, unless Illary happened to find her.

  Idaho. That had been her plan, with Nolan. They’d go together and make their home there, and she would rehabilitate dragonkind.

  Her chest ached as she thought about what might have been. Nolan. The kindest, sweetest, strongest man she’d ever met. He’d died protecting her. Lifting her hand, she pressed it against the hollow, hurting place above her heart.

  She couldn’t think. If she thought too much, she would fall apart.

  Instead, she pushed herself to go forward. Down the stream, until her feet were completely numb and she couldn’t feel the slippery rocks beneath her. Then out of the stream and south, back toward the path they’d traveled to get here. Maybe, eventually, she’d come across their abandoned hiking packs and find food and shelter. That would take at least three days, though. Two, if she were lucky. The flight hadn’t taken long, but Charles had flown them far.

  Such a short amount of time it had taken to destroy their lives, their happiness.

  No more thinking. Dwelling on what had happened would make her scream. Screaming would give away her position. They’d drag her back.

  And Nolan had told her to run. She’d promised.

  She walked until the numbness left her feet and was replaced by pain. Surprised, she looked down and saw that she was barefoot. Where were her shoes and socks? She must have dropped them at some point and not noticed.

  Shrugging, she continued forward.
Barefoot, shod, it didn’t matter. She’d walk until she couldn’t walk anymore.

  Daylight was fading fast, although she didn’t yet feel the cold of the approaching night. She moved too fast, her broken heart pumping blood quickly and keeping her warm.

  A steep slope rose up in front of her, blotting out the setting sun. Large rocks were stacked against it, forming a natural hollow. It wasn’t much, but she could shelter here until it got light enough to travel again.

  Hurrying toward her little shelter, she examined it more thoroughly. The pine needles had been flattened here, as if she wasn’t the first creature to huddle in its relative protection. She sniffed the air, hoping there wouldn’t be anything dangerous fighting her for sleeping rights to this spot. It had only been a deer, and its scent was faint. She should be safe enough here.

  Her face and feet were cold now that she wasn’t moving. She sat cross-legged to cover her feet, and buried her face in her arms. Wetness seeped into her sleeves—she’d been crying.

  She had to sleep. Only with rest could she be strong.

  But every time she closed her eyes, she saw one thing. White fur, stained red with blood.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Nolan woke to one of the dragon shifters jostling his uninjured shoulder. “Wake up, you bastard.”

  The rounded English accent reminded him of Charles, and he came up swinging. His fist connected with something hard.

  Another one of the men grabbed his injured arm, twisted it. A flare of pain jolted him into full wakefulness.

  “Sorry,” Nolan said. “Thought you were that other asshole.”

  “Charles Wexley,” the first man said. He had black hair and what was probably a wide, strong build like Nolan’s that now looked malnourished. “No, I ain’t Wexley,” he continued. “I’m Ernest Collings. Explain to me what you were doing with our princess.”