Page 108 of Wings of Shadow
Fire licks my spine. My wings itch to burst free. My dragon is no longer patient—it wants blood.
“Don’t you dare meddle in this family’s affairs!” Nikolaas roars. “You have no right?—”
“I have every—fucking—right!” I explode, the last thread of restraint snapping like bone. “Clarissa is my mate!”
My fists clench, claws threatening to tear through my skin as my dragon surges forward, obsidian scales prickling beneath the surface of my arms, my neck. Rage coils hot in my chest, and I can barely keep it contained.
His features harden. “You fucking monster,” he snarls.
“Call me monster, if you want,” I inch closer, voice dropping to a growl. “She calls me hers.”
Nikolaas curls his fists tight, knuckles whitening. “This is your fault!” he lashes out. “The Mahindras are your enemies. You brought this on her!”
His words cut deep, carving truth from bone. Guilt rises like poison in my throat, but I swallow it down. Self-recrimination won’t bring her back—rage will.
“Will you please stop this?!” Samara’s voice cracks like a whip between us, sharp enough to draw blood. “She doesn’t care whose fault it is. She just needs both of you to stop posturing and go save her!”
Her words snap us both to attention. She’s right. Our squabbles mean nothing in the face of Clarissa’s danger.
Nikolaas looks away first, jaw clenched, hand dragging down his face. “We can’t just storm into their territory,” he says. “There are rules. Protocols.”
“To hell with politics,” I mutter, moving toward the door. “Every second we waste talking is another second she spends in their hands.”
Samara turns to face us both, shoulders squared. “I see two dragons standing in this room. That’s more than enough fire to melt through a fucking clan.”
Her words stop me. I turn to Nikolaas, and to my surprise, he’s looking at me the same way.
Not as an enemy. Not as a rival. But as a weapon he needs.
“She’s right,” I say, voice steady. “I’m going in.”
Nikolaas’s lips curl into a humorless smirk. “On your own? Not a chance.”
I study him for a moment. That jaw of his is set like stone.
And for the first time… I don’t hate him for it.
We won’t be friends. We won’t trust each other. But for Clarissa? We’ll raze hell.
Without another word, we move.
Two dragons. One bond. One enemy.
And the world has no idea what’s about to be unleashed.
44
KAISNER
“Hold on, Clarissa,” I think, clenching my fists in my lap as the dark blur of trees rushes past the windows. “Just hold on a little longer. I’m coming for you.”
I don’t know if she can hear me. Not in this form. But the bond still hums—faint, erratic, like a heartbeat beneath ice. And I pour everything I have into it. Rage. Love. My promise. She will feel it. She has to.
The silence inside Nikolaas’ SUV is unbearable. The leather seats groan beneath us, the tires humming over black asphalt as we speed through the countryside outside Paris. The scenery is a blur of moonlit forest and distant fog—but all I see is red. All I feel is her absence.
Clarissa.
Every breath I take is laced with the ache of it. The need to get to her. To burn through all obstacles between us.
