Page 58 of Fanged Secrets
Oksana’s eyes flashed at the mention of Don, and she surveyed me with a contemplative stare. Her grip on the egg tightened for a moment, and then with great reluctance, she handed it off to a beautiful, white-haired man who kneeled at her side. She agreed with a simple nod, a fierce fire igniting in her gaze. At her snapped command, the dragon shifters surged forward, led by Oksana, as they moved to carry out my demand.
The dragon shifters moved with the precision and purpose of a vengeful storm as they navigated the narrow hallways. I followed closely behind. Up the stairs, we turned the final corner and found Don.
He was on his knees, beaten and bruised, with blood smeared across his face. His once-imposing figure was now hunched and defeated, and above him stood Dylan, lithe and powerful despite the ugly, cavernous injury in her chest. Her eyes flashed when she saw the shifters approach, and she stiffened instinctively, her claws extending as she prepared for another fight.
But her narrowed eyes alighted on me and her brow furrowed, before, finally, understanding dawned. The dragon shifters weren’t there to harm her. Dylan’s tense posture relaxed slightly, and a slow grin spread across her face. She took a step back, obligingly bowing out of the way to allow Oksana to have her revenge.
The dragon woman strode forward, her eyes locked on Don. With a swift, unmerciful motion, she gripped him by the hair and yanked his head back, forcing my father to look up at her. I watched as Oksana leaned in close, her lips moving in a language I couldn’t hear or decipher, but I imagined it was Russian.
Whatever Oksana said made Don’s eyes widen in terror. He began to tremble, his chest heaving with ragged breaths as Oksana opened her mouth, and then unhinged her jaw, row upon row of jagged teeth glinting in the dim light. Saliva dripped from her canines, dropping to trickle down my father’s cheek.
Don’s terror grew palpable as he struggled, but Oksana’s grip was unyielding. His rolling eyes searched frantically until they finally found me. He locked onto me with a desperate plea, his lips moving frantically as he begged for me to do something. I stood rooted to the spot, staring at him. I read the fast-moving lips, deciphering his words, but the impact of his desperation felt distant, almost unreal.
I was waiting, holding my breath as if expecting something inside me to break, but there was nothing. No pain, no guilt – just an eerie calmness.
When Don realized that begging wouldn’t work, his expression shifted. His eyes hardened, and I saw the flash of anger take over. The pleading melted into a sharp, biting demand as he ordered me to do as I was told, his lips moving with the force of someone accustomed to being obeyed.
But still, I didn’t move.
I felt at ease, as if a weight I hadn’t realized I was carrying had been lifted. A deep breath filled my lungs as I held my father’s gaze, a sense of finality settling over me. For so long, I had been haunted by the thought of this moment, afraid of what it would mean to see him like this. But now, as I stood there watching him struggle, all I felt was calm.
I understood that he was about to die, but the anticipated pain never came. Instead, I met his gaze and tilted my head slightly. I took one, slow, deep breath.
I kept my voice calm and controlled as I said, “I can’t hear you.”
I saw the moment horrific realization dawned in my father’s eyes. He understood then, that he had no power over me anymore. I was no longer the frightened child who would cower under his commands.
I held his gaze for a heartbeat longer, then turned away. I didn’t need to see Oksana’s jaws snap shut over his head. I didn’t need to watch him die. The chapter had already closed in my mind. Don was not the antagonist of my story; he was a footnote. His death was just an ending I had been waiting for, and now that it was here, it felt like nothing more than a necessary conclusion.
I walked over to Dylan, my wife, my shadow. She leaned heavily against the banister, watching the carnage behind me with a satisfied smile, her repulsion toward my father clear on her face.
She was severely injured, and the skin of her chest was still smoldering in places, but she was alive. The flare had left a gory, concave wound in her chest, and she was paler than usual, covered in blood, her strength waning. My heart clenched at the sight, but Dylan’s eyes still held that familiar fire.
Careful not to hurt her further, I slung Dylan’s arm over my shoulder, supporting her as we hobbled down the stairs and out of the house together. Every step was an effort, but we made it, a combined will carrying both of us forward.
We collapsed just outside the broken front porch, our bodies tangled together in the dewy grass as we gasped for air. Exhausted and battered, neither of us had the breath to speak.We simply lay there, side by side, breathing heavily, staring up at the night sky.
And finally – finally, my mind was at peace.
As the clouds began to dissipate and the first hints of dawn streaked the horizon, I could only marvel at the beautiful sight.
Chapter 29
Dylan
The neon lights of the arcade flickered and buzzed, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the interior. The air was punctuated with the sounds of old machines whirring to life, laughter, and the occasional triumphant shout. I leaned against a wall near the bumper cars, half-hidden in the shadows, scanning the room as I took it all in. The place was packed – more than I’d seen in a long time – and it warmed something deep in my chest.
Amara was at the center of it all, as usual. She was with River and Hunter, trying to beat the high score on an ancient pinball machine that had clearly seen better days. The machine groaned and sputtered, but it was still kicking, much like everything else in this place.
The Leyore Coven had done a good job revitalizing the old arcade, turning it into a hub of activity instead of letting it fade away like so many other relics of the past. It had been Amara’s idea. She’d struck up a friendship with Sky over the past fewmonths, and Amara’s mention of resurrecting the arcade passed through Sky and reached Jordan’s ears, who made it happen.
“Hey, you planning on joining the fun or just brooding over there?” River called out, her voice carrying across the room atop a cacophony of noise. She shot me a smirk and I rolled my eyes, pushing off the wall to join them.
“I’m not brooding. I’m observing,” I corrected her, tone dry as I slid into the seat next to Amara. “Someone has to keep an eye on you lot.”
Amara nudged me with her shoulder, a small smile playing on her lips as she signed the words, “Come on, you’re having fun. Admit it.”
River’s face cracked into a wide smile. “I caught that! I know what you said.” She leaned back, a smug, satisfied smirk on her face. “I’m getting better at this.”
