Page 146 of To Touch A Silent Fury
Lang’s voice cut out, his irritation fading to instant concern. He looked almost as frantic as I did, papers clutched in his hands, though he was decidedly less bloodied, standing in the middle of the library. “Edrin’s flock, Ta—Vorska.” He swallowed, glancing at the scampering attendant, the single other audience to his mistake, as he left the papers on a nearby stool and strode up to me. His voice was far softer. “Is that blood? What happened?”
My breath came thick and fast as I struggled to know what to say, how to articulate it, and it all fell out in a jumbled mess. “Hanin is… and Foxlin. I need to know where he is—I need Theollan.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you hurt?” His thumb grazed my cheek where I must have missed its mark, and the sensation of his emotions, even fleetingly, nearly brought me to my knees. This man was suffering. “Who did this?”
I stepped back, his touch too overwhelming right now. “Not my blood. Don’t know who—who took him.”
Lang dropped his hand, clenching it at his side. He breathed in through his nose deeply. “Slow down. What happened? Where’s Foxlin?”
I swallowed air like water, forcing it into my body in great gulps. Why did seeing him make me want to break down? All I wanted was to fall into his arms and have him fix it all for me. But this was my dragon, my friend. Hanin’s words,strong together, reverberated in my head. I had to be strong for him, now more than ever.
Regaining a slither of control, I formed an explanation. “Someone hurt him. I left to speak to Kallie and when I came back, he was unconscious and bleeding.” Lang’s eyes flashed to the door. “I sent guards to him. He is alive for now, but he’s hurt.”
Lang nodded, but I saw the tension in his body, and I understood it more than he could believe. “And Hanindred?”
“Gone.” I gasped in another shaky breath. “Someone has taken him.”
A number of calculations jittered across his blood-red eyes. “By the Five.”
“I need Theollan. He is a tracker. He has smelt Hanin before, maybe he can find him.”
Lang slowly shook his head. “I don’t think we need Theollan.”
“Why?”
“I know who took him.” That same dread fell over me, a wave pulling me under as I clawed my fingernails up its beach. “Years ago, the eve before my brother was supposed to inherit his dragon egg. I stole it from him. I took Chaethor, and claimed her for myself.”
The culprit did not surprise me, and yet, it did nothing to alleviate my fear. “The Wragg took Hanindred?”
“I think so,” he said. “Maybe he suspected you’d run.”
I set my jaw. “Where is he?”
“It’s too dangerous.”
It was a warning that I would ignore. This had gone too far. This family had taken far too much from me. “Where is he?” I repeated.
Lang took a step towards me, closing the distance between us as he shook his head. “Think about this. He has taken your dragon. He must fear that you will leave, and he’s doing everything he can to keep you in his power, trying to cage you here.Do not fall for his bait.” Once more, he reached up, and I did not move. His thumb and finger curved around my small chin. “You can still run.”
Everything I had felt on him before—his regret, frustrations, rage. All of it was magnified. His touch was featherlight, but behind those eyes he was honed, a weapon ready to strike.
It hardened my own resolve, a whetstone against my own anger. “I’m not leaving them.”
“It might be your only chance to escape.”
“Would you leave Foxlin? Would you leave Chaethor?” I felt the names land on him. “My dragon and my only friend are here, locked away. I would rather be chained up alongside them than spend the rest of my days running alone.”
Once more, Lang glanced at the door.
“Don’t even think to stop me, Langnathin.” My voice was a growl, draconic and low.
His crimson gaze was just as deadly. “I’m not going to stop you. I’m coming with you.”
38
Tani
His hand was warm in my own as we paced from the library and down a service hallway. His emotions and mine melded so firmly I could taste our mutual anger. I kept my head down as a chambermaid gasped, and I had no idea if it was from the blood coating my skirts or the expression I could only imagine was painted on Lang’s face.
