16. Chapter 16
Adrian
I'm in the rose garden, going over the final security plan with Bobby Chemko and Maya Lorne, my deputies. We've been discussing the need to tighten the window for kitchen deliveries and the management of guests pouring in for the ceremony for the past half hour.
"Entry points need to be limited to the main gate and east terrace only," I explain, pointing at the estate layout in front of us. "No exceptions. If they're not on the approved list, they don't get in."
Bobby nods, making a note on his tablet.
"What about the vendors? The florist wants a two-hour window for setup."
"Narrow it to ninety minutes, and I want someone from security with them at all times," I respond, scanning the perimeter of the garden. "Maya, you'll coordinate the vendor escorts."
"Got it, boss." Maya tucks a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. "And what about—"
The sound of an alarm cuts her off mid-sentence, its shrill cry piercing the peaceful garden. All three of us snap to attention, hands automatically moving toward our weapons.
"That’s the fire alarm," I bark, shifting into crisis mode. "Bobby, call first responders, make sure they’re on their way. Maya, make sure the staff evacuates, no exception. I'll check the guests in the east wing."
“Isn’t Julia and the bride’s family in the east wing right now?”
Julia.
Her name floods my mind before any thought of safety has a chance to enter my brain. My wolf surges at the thought of her in danger and I feel the beast push right under my skin. Bobby and Maya watch me with wide eyes as I turn around.
My senses, already sensitive before the change, are even sharper now that the beast lay just under the surface. I can smell the smoke coming from the building, acrid and biting.
I have to get to her. I have to get to Julia.
I run, following a mixture of blind instinct and the faint traces of her scent through the long hallways.
The manor erupts into chaos around me. Staff members rush past in panicked clusters, some shouting instructions that get swallowed by the relentless wail of the alarm. Dragon clan members push through the crowd, their wings partially spread in an instinctive response to danger.
I move against the flow of bodies, shoulder first, cutting through the evacuating crowd. My height and bulk create a path where none exists.
My heart hammers against my ribs, a primal rhythm that has nothing to do with the smoke filling my lungs and everything to do with the woman I need to find.
I extend my senses, sifting through the cacophony of scents, smoke, fear, the ashen smell of agitated dragons, searching for Julia's distinctive combination of jasmine, vanilla, and something uniquely her. Something that belongs only to my mate.
Percy barrels down the grand staircase ahead of me, his massive wings half-extended, tips scraping the ornate walls. His eyes blaze with dragon fire, his usual composure utterly gone.
"Adrian!" He grabs my arm with nearly painful force. "Have you seen Seraphina?"
"No. I'm looking for Julia." I scan over his shoulder, trying to pierce the veil of smoke. "Are they safe outside?"
"I don't know." His grip tightens. Dragons aren't built for uncertainty, and the possibility of his mate in danger has stripped away all of Percy's usual charm. "It’s coming from the east wing. I’ve heard someone say the fire started in a back room on the first floor.
Adrian, the Rose Salon is on the second floor. Right above the fire."
Above the fire. Julia could be trapped up there.
"We’ll find them," I tell him. "Chemko already called first responders."
Percy nods once and follows me into the chaos .
A flash of movement catches my eye, someone moving too quickly, too purposefully against the flow of evacuation. Clad in all black, a slender figure heads away from the east wing. But before I can focus, a cluster of kitchen staff rushes between us, and the figure disappears from view.
Then I hear it. Julia's voice, calling for help, followed by a painful bout of coughing. The sound cuts through the chaos like a beacon, pulling me toward the east wing with unstoppable force.
My wolf surges forward, lending me preternatural speed as I race toward the sound of my mate in distress.
The smoke thickens with every step, until the ornate wallpaper and antique furnishings blur into gray shadows.
The portraits of ancient Draak ancestors watching through the haze, their painted eyes seeming to follow my desperate progress.
I reach the east wing to find smoke pouring into the hallway in thick black plumes.
The scent of burning plastic, ash, and old timber overwhelms the space as I keep running, my brain fogged by my half-shifted state.
Then I finally find her.
Through the choking haze, I spot three figures at the top of the east stairwell landing. My vision tunnels, heart stuttering as my brain struggles to process the nightmarish tableau before me. I see it all through the eyes of the beast.
Someone coughing violently.
Julia, my Julia.
Her face is smudged with soot, her hair in disarray.
Beside her, Seraphina's scales gleam dully through the smoke, her wings partially extended in a protective posture.
Both are hunched over a third form. Silverine, trapped beneath what appears to be a massive overturned buffet, her elegant frame stuck at an unnatural angle.
Silverine's leg is pinned, her expression tight with pain but composed.
Seraphina is trying to lift the furniture, her claws unsheathed, but it's too heavy.
Julia is shielding Silverine's face from the smoke with a wet, folded linen runner.
I understand what I see, but it's tinted through my wolf's eyes. And my wolf only cares about Julia.
More smoke billows around them, coming from the first floor behind them. Time stretches like taffy as my wolf howls inside me, primal fear clawing up my throat at seeing my mate in danger. For one terrible heartbeat, I can't move, can't breathe. Then instinct takes over, propelling me forward.
I don't stop. I reach them and rip the buffet aside with a roar, my strength enhanced by adrenaline and wolf instinct. The heavy wood splinters against the wall like kindling with the force of my protective rage. Silverine bites back a growl of pain as I crouch beside her.
"You two, outside. Now," I order, pointing at Julia and Seraphina. "I'll take care of Silverine."
"I'm not leaving without you," Julia says, coughing but defiant.
"Yes, you are," I growl, my wolf surging to the surface, the beast laser-focused on its need to see Julia safe. "I need you safe."
Even through the smoke and chaos, she's breathtaking, chin lifted in stubborn determination, eyes flashing with a fire that rivals the one consuming the manor.
Beautiful and defiant, with soot smudging her cheeks and determination hardening her jaw.
My wolf wants to howl at the sight, both proud of her courage and terrified of losing her .
Before the standoff can worsen, Percy arrives, eyes glowing gold and wings extended in fury. He rushes to Seraphina, his hands frantically checking her for injuries, running over her smooth scales with heart-wrenching care.
"Are you hurt?" he demands, voice rough with emotion as he cups her face.
"I'm fine," Seraphina assures him, leaning briefly into his touch. "But my grandmother needs help."
Percy nods, pressing a swift kiss to Seraphina's forehead before moving to Silverine's side. He scoops the elder dragon into his arms with surprising gentleness and nods to me.
"You take Julia. I've got her."
I don't argue. I turn to Julia and lift her into my arms. She protests once, then clings to me as we flee down the stairs.
Julia holds me with desperate fingers, her face pressed against my neck, breathing deeply. I can feel her taking in my scent, using my shirt to filter out the acrid smoke. The intimacy of the gesture sends a shiver down my spine despite the danger surrounding us.
Her trust in me, so complete and instinctive, makes my wolf howl with satisfaction.
We emerge onto the manor's front lawn where staff and guests have gathered in frightened clusters.
The afternoon sun seems obscenely bright after the smoke-filled corridors, highlighting the fear and confusion on every face.
Dragons huddle together in clumps, their scales glittering in the sunlight.
Human staff members stand in smaller groups, many still coughing, some with tear-streaked faces.
Emergency vehicles pour through the gate, their lights flashing across the historic facade of Windfall Manor.
The wail of sirens cuts through the murmur of the crowd, adding to the surreal nature of the scene.
Firefighters jump from trucks, unrolling hoses and shouting instructions as they assess the east wing where smoke continues to billow from shattered windows.
I should put Julia down now. We're safely outside, and she's perfectly capable of standing on her own.
But I don't. I can't.
My arms tighten around her instead, my wolf refusing to release her even for a moment. I carry her away from the crowd to a quiet spot beneath a massive oak tree, its ancient branches offering shelter from both the sun and prying eyes.
"Are you hurt?" I ask, reluctantly setting her on her feet but keeping my arms around her waist.
"I'm fine," she says, though her voice is hoarse from the smoke. "Just a little shaken up."
She pulls back slightly, looking over her shoulder at the commotion.
"I should go check on Silverine. Her leg might be broken."
Her face is smudged with soot, hair tangled and wild from our escape. Even disheveled and smoke-stained, she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Especially now that she's safe.
When she tries to move away, my hand shoots out, catching her wrist.
"No," I say, my voice taking on the tone that brooks no argument. My alpha tone. "You're staying right here where I can see you."