Chapter Fifteen
Lucian itched to fly faster, but Cinaed needed to reach Arabella first.
Still… the runes on his body writhed with the need to reach his tomb, and that propelled him ahead by inches and more inches. Leksander kept pace with him using fae-boosted power, but Cinaed was struggling to keep up, even with all his dragon-fueled strength. Lucian’s need to go faster nearly strangled him as they finally came within sight of the tomb.
That damn fae has his hands on her.
Hold back, my brother. Leksander’s words slammed into Lucian’s head. Stay with the plan.
Lucian released a stream of dragontongue curses on his brother’s mind but held back from racing ahead to yank Arabella from Zephan’s embrace. Lucian would be there in seconds… and then he would make Zephan pay for touching her. Suddenly, Arabella pushed away from the fae prince, yelling at Zephan about something.
When the prince lunged for her, Lucian couldn’t hold back any longer.
He let loose a primal, dragon scream that meant, Hands off my mate. The sound ripped across the air, reaching the tomb before him and succeeding in yanking Zephan’s attention away from whatever harm he planned to visit upon Arabella. The three of them—Lucian, Leksander, and Cinaed—put on a burst of speed, and less than two long seconds later, they were crashing in on the tomb.
A blur of blue to his side was Cinaed taking Arabella.
She yelped as he grabbed her, but Lucian knew he would get her safely out of the tomb. Lucian’s focus was all for the fae bastard his talons were crashing down upon. The prince jumped back, barely eluding Lucian’s slicing grip, but Lucian’s speed caught him anyway. He crashed into the fae, taking him sailing back into the dark crevices of the cave. The treaty said the fae couldn’t kill anyone from the House of Smoke… but it said nothing about dragons killing fae. Never mind that it was damn near impossible—Lucian would give it a hell of a try.
Zephan hurled some magical force against him, but Lucian was already sinking his talons into the bastard’s slim fae body. He was slippery, like an eel, but the magical force the fae was hurling lost its power with Lucian anchored to the fae himself, and the pain provided a powerful distraction.
Zephan roared and finally hurled Lucian off him, sending him crashing against a rocky wall. But they were well to the back of the cave, which was precisely where Lucian needed to keep him. At least for a few moments—as long as it would take Leksander to do his work. Lucian rushed at Zephan again, but the fae was ready for him this time. A flick of the wrist sent Lucian crashing back into the same wall. Zephan wiped blood from his side and glared at the bluish substance. Holy mother of magic, did the fae actually bleed magic? Lucian had never seen the blood of one before. No matter—Lucian hurled himself at Zephan again, this time sending a torrent of dragonfire ahead. Zephan blocked that stream, curling it back around to blast Lucian with his own dragonfire, but Lucian’s momentum carried him through the burning baptism to once again crash against the fae, hurling them both against the back wall. Lucian got in a few more good slices, bloodying his talons with Zephan’s thick, blue muck before the fae recovered from the stun and sent Lucian hurtling against the opposite wall again.
Zephan quickly stood. “As much fun as this is, I’m growing tired of this game.” He gathered a ball of magical energy that crackled with miniature lightning bolts and hurled it at Lucian. He had nowhere to go and took the full brunt of it on his chest. Lucian could feel the scales burning, and he howled through the pain, but once it was spent, he managed to stagger to his feet.
Zephan’s normally unflappable expression was thoroughly flapped. The ire on his face alone held enough power to end Lucian’s life… if such a thing were allowed by the treaty.
“I am done with this stupidity.” Zephan spat blue blood on the floor.
“I don’t think so,” said Leksander from the front of the cave. He had shifted human and stood with his legs planted wide and his arms crossed. Lucian shifted to human as well—the magical burn marks Zephan had given him were red and angry across his chest. He conjured clothes to cover them.
Zephan threw a glare at each of them then turned in the way fae do when they’re opening one of those interdimensional doors they use to hop and skip around the world and to otherworldly fae dimensions in between.
Only he went nowhere.
Lucian grinned at his brother, but Leksander’s face was inscrutable—and his eyes were trained on Zephan. For the fae’s part, his expression was one of blank surprise. He staggered a step back, then darted his gaze all over the cave.
“That’s right,” Leksander said. “Wards. Simple ones, really. But they’re dragon wards… and you are fucked. Because just like wards can keep you out of our keep, guess what? You’re not leaving this tomb until we take them down.”
Just as Lucian had never seen a fae’s blue blood before, he’d never seen fear on one’s face. But a flash of it was unmistakable on Zephan’s. Then his expression shut down hard and was replaced by the kind of loathing that would have ended Lucian’s life on the spot if he weren’t protected by the treaty.
“You cannot be serious,” Zephan said, straightening and wiping his blood off his hands. “What do you think you can possibly accomplish—”
“I have one simple demand,” Lucian cut him off.
Zephan whipped his gaze to Lucian, and Lucian could hear the breath wheezing in and out of Zephan’s lungs, even with the stone-cold expression on his face.
“You do not make demands of me.” There was a quaver of pure hatred. Or maybe fear. Lucian didn’t care, as long as it motivated him.
“We do today,” Leksander said calmly. He strolled with more casualness than Lucian could muster, his blood still boiling with the need to kill the fae that had threatened his mate, not to mention the pain still rippling across half his body from the fae’s burning magical fire.
Leksander stopped in front of a decidedly shaken-looking Zephan. “You will never attempt to kidnap or harm Arabella in any way. Promise it, and we’ll take down the wards and set you free.”
“I don’t make promises to dragons,” Zephan sneered, but the wideness of his eyes and the scent of fear upon him betrayed him. His gaze darted to the outside of the cave. Cinaed clung to the edge of the cliff in dragon form, Arabella safely on his back, both of them staring, silently watching. The wards shimmered, providing a barrier between them—keeping Arabella safe and Zephan trapped. By the time Zephan’s gaze came back inside the cave, Lucian could scent the defeat on him.
“Make the promise, Zephan,” he growled. He knew well that the fae’s promise held power—a magical bond that would literally prevent him from taking actions like today ever again.
Zephan rumbled his own growl of frustration and glared at Lucian.
“She is my mate,” Lucian roared, knowing full well that the wards would keep in creatures with magic in their blood, but not the words he was sending forth. Arabella would hear them plain enough. “You will not touch her. You will not harm her. Swear it now, Zephan, or see how long you can last in a cave with two dragons descended from fae and protected by treaty. Either you will die or we will… and only one of those will break a ten-thousand-year peace.”
“And it’s not your death,” Leksander added. “Which do you think the Winter Court will abandon first—you or ten thousand years of peace with the Summer Court?”
Zephan glared with such fury that magic crackled along his skin in skittering blue wisps. For a long moment, Lucian thought he would rather fight than concede.
But then the fae prince opened his mouth and said, “By my true name, I will not touch or harm Arabella Sharp.”
Relief weakened Lucian—he was already low on blood from his ill-fated time with the vampires, and this reprieve threatened to send him to his knees.
“Good enough?” Leksander asked, giving Lucian a sideways look.
Lucian was sure his brother wanted to press for more, but it was enough… all he needed was for Arabella to be safe. And they were skating close to war as it was—all of this was a calculated gamble.
“Take down the wards.” Lucian restrained himself from bracing against the nearby wall. He willed himself to stay upright at least until the fae left.
Leksander’s runes scurried across his arms as he summoned their magic to disassemble the wards he had hastily placed when they arrived. In just a moment, they were down.
Zephan sneered at Lucian. “Your mate was delicious for the short time I had her.” Then he turned and disappeared, slipping into the interdimensional door the bastards used to travel.
Lucian roared and stumbled forward to swipe at him, but he was already gone. He wanted to believe the fae bastard’s words weren’t true… but he knew they never lied. The exact meaning and extent of those words might be unclear, but this much he knew—Zephan’s lips had been on Arabella. He had tasted her. And it carved a sickness deep in Lucian’s soul.
Then he saw the worried look on Arabella’s face—Cinaed had brought her into the cave as soon as the wards were down—and all Lucian could think of was having her in his arms… and whether Zephan had already poisoned that too much. Or Lucian himself had. Could she even love him at all with what had happened… much less with a love that was True?
“Arabella.” A wave of dizziness caught him, and he barely grabbed hold of a rocky lip of the wall to keep himself upright.
Cinaed had been holding her back, but now she rushed forward to Lucian’s side. “Oh my God, are you all right?” Her soft hands were on him, touching the arm that was half charred from Zephan’s attack. He couldn’t help wincing, and she noticed. “Oh God, I’m hurting you!”
Lucian smiled. “No. Not even close.” He reached out and pulled her into his arms. She curled into him, and the feel of that was insanely glorious—like his own piece of heaven on earth. She was safe. She was his. The fact that she wasn’t shying away from him was like a breath of new life. And she was even wearing some kind of white and flowing gown… a sealing garment. It was like a sign from the universe blessing this horrible thing he knew he had to do. He pulled back enough to take her soft cheeks in his hands. He realized too late that his hands were still covered with Zephan’s blood, not to mention his own. He ignored that and peered into her eyes. “Tell me he didn’t hurt you.”
“He didn’t hurt me,” she said solemnly. “I think I might have hurt his feelings, though.”
A laugh welled deep inside Lucian. Keeping it inside meant a supreme force of will. Instead, he just smiled. “You’re in my arms, now. That’s all that matters.”
But she frowned at that, and it tore into his heart. Had he already lost her?
He would know soon enough.
Because he was done running… and fae-promise or no, he didn’t trust Zephan not to try again, in some duplicitous fae manner, to take Arabella into his realm and never return. Maybe Zephan was trying to break the treaty. Maybe he was simply fucking with Lucian because he had nothing better to do with his eternal fae lifetime. Maybe he had truly gotten a taste of Arabella and knew what an extraordinary woman she was.
It could be any of those things, and ultimately, it didn’t matter.
Mating with Lucian would almost certainly kill her… but she wasn’t safe without him by her side, either.
And he was responsible for putting her in that position. Once Lucian sealed her, Zephan truly couldn’t touch her again. And she would be nearly impossible to kill by any other hand… except his own.
As Cara had been.
“Let me take you home,” he said softly to her.
Her smile in response nearly broke his heart.