Page 73 of The Dragon Warlord
“How dare she?” he says.
“Agreed, Warlord.”
“Did you see her face? All the light in her eyes died again. I barely survived it the first time.”
“Me too. It’s hard but you’re right. We can’t go there without an army. Drakon, even with an army it would be nearly impossible.”
He looks me over, just realizing that I’ve opened my jacket and that I’ve exposed myself. He swallows. “We need to get you dressed.” Pulling me to him, he rests his chin on the top of my head and inhales a gulp of me. “Sorry, Riv. You’re not leaving my side tonight. We’ll have the bed set up in my room.”
“You know I don’t mind, Warlord.”
“I mind. It’s wrong.” He bares his teeth. “This whole bonding business is unfair. Know what? As awful as I feel for Ikara, if we did rescue the ice dragon, he’d only be trading one form of imprisonment for another.”
“Warlord, I understand that’s what you believe, but surely this is better than being held captive by beasts?”
He bites his lip, scents me by rubbing his face along my neck, and smiles. “Perhaps a bit,” he teases and then sighs. “Let’s call it a day. I want to put an end to this one and hope for a better tomorrow. I’m knackered, Riv, and I can’t shake the sensation that someone’s about to take you from me thanks to one of your wizard dads.”
“I’m right here, Alpha. I’m not going anywhere.”
12
Tristan
Iwake to a sharp cry and it’s instinct to reach for the sword I keep by my bed.
It’s not there. What the fuck?
Jumping up, I catch sight of a glowing portal in the middle of my room. But how? I thought those things worked on sarsen stone energy. Who’s doing that?
“Riv. River. Wake—” Fuck. River isn’t where I left him. The bed we had set up for him is empty, the blankets rumpled. Other instincts take over. Dragon ones. The Elven part of me fades into the background. If there is any human left in me, it’s non-existent at the moment.
That cry. Now that I’m fully awake and playing it over in my head, it was River’s. Someone took my omega and whoever took him is going to fucking die.
Inhaling sharply, my nostrils confirm that, yes, he’s gone through that portal and there was another with him. The scent is familiar, but I can’t quite place it, too crazy and hyper-aware of the fading scent of my omega. Without time to spare, worried the portal will close, I jump through in nothing but my night clothes and land on a hard, rocky surface.
The putrid scent of rotting death hits me after that. It cancels River’s scent to nearly nothing. We’re in the Goddamn Wastelands and I know who the abductor is even if I don’t know how she did this.
“Ikara!”
“Shhhh, Warlord. We’re not safe. You can’t go around this place announcing your arrival like that.”
Ikara is there, having waited for me. River is in his nightclothes on the rocky ground, glaring at her. He appears to be bound by invisible forces. All the animal in me registers is that she took him. Mine. My omega. I’ll kill her.
Advancing on her, there’s a light shove as she attempts to use her dragon power to keep me away. She’s no match for me. I break her weak attempt at defense as easily as snapping a tree branch. Her eyes widen when she realizes that she’s not dealing with my rational side. Ikara closes the portal instead of trying anything else and curls into a ball.
“You can’t get home without me,” she says.
I pounce on her, tackling her to the ground, snapping my teeth in her face, but what she said clicks. I can’t get home without her. “Release him.”
Standing, I watch her with rage coursing through my body, beating like a hammer. She releases him and she reveals that she’s conveniently brought our dragon armor jackets and swords. Ikara points to where I missed them lying in plain sight, but I’m single-focused and I’d miss an army of Beasts walking through here just now.
River and I rush to the other. His bare skin hits mine and while I won’t be calmed with danger lurking, it’s sweet relief I didn’t know I needed.
I’m angry with myself for vowing to distance myself and then not only not being successful in keeping any modicum of physical distance but touching him more. I can’t deny the constant and innate need for him that thrums within me as a living and breathing thing.
There always seems to be something hurtling us together. As if the bond conspires against us and tightens its hold the more I try to pull us apart.
“Are you all right?”
