Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
A low growl began reverberating in Ranulf’s chest later that evening the moment he saw Sephie’s face as she stumbled into the church ahead of Wallis.
Ranulf was able to see, from his heightened dragon sight and the light of the half-dozen candles he had used his dragon senses to ignite strategically about the nave, that there were purple bruises on Sephie’s cheek, and her lips looked swollen as they pressed against the tape covering her mouth.
Had this bastard dared to strike his mate?
Kill, came his dragon’s battle cry, clamoring to be set free so that he could rip apart the man who had hurt their mate.
All in good time. Ranulf calmed the need to shift.
Not because he wasn’t as furious as his dragon at seeing the evidence of Wallis’s brutality on Sephie’s face.
He was probably more so.
But, no matter what the provocation, a warrior who had lived for well over a thousand years had learned the art of patience and also the exact moment to strike to the greatest effect.
The mocking smile on Wallis’s face told Ranulf that time wouldn’t come until after he’d discovered why this man’s expression was so sneeringly confident.
Wallis put one of his hands on Sephie’s shoulder to push her so that she was walking in front of him as he approached where Ranulf stood in the center of the nave. Conveniently where the vaulted ceiling was at its highest, in case he needed to shift into the fierceness of his dragon.
The bruising to Sephie’s face alone was enough for his dragon to clamor for the retribution that also burned in Ranulf’s chest.
He narrowed his gaze as he took in the rest of Sephie’s appearance.
Her arms were pulled back and her hands bound behind her. She wasn’t wearing a coat, only a cream Aran-knit jumper and fitted jeans, along with the same inadequate fashion boots from earlier today.
It appeared to Ranulf as if these were the same clothes Sephie had been wearing under that puffy coat earlier. Her pink hair was wet from the snow still falling outside, and there was that bruise on her cheek and her swollen lip.
Whatever Wallis had done to cause his mate pain Ranulf would return it tenfold.
A hundredfold, his dragon threatened.
A thousand fold, Ranulf roared inwardly when, the closer Sephie came to him, the more he could see the absolute terror in her beautiful blue eyes.
Ranulf had no way to reassure her without alerting Wallis and having him question the reason for it, when this man believed he was the one in control.
He could choose to believe that. But Ranulf knew it was far from the truth.
He shifted his gaze, glaring his fury at Wallis, thankful when no smoke came from his nostrils to alert the other man to how close his dragon was to making an appearance.
Not that he cared for Wallis’s sake, but he doubted Sephie had any idea of the existence of dragon shifters, except possibly those that some of the romance authors now wrote about in books.
Seeing Ranulf shift into a thirty-foot-tall silver dragon before he had explained the situation to her would probably deeply traumatize her.
Calm, he instructed his outraged dragon, for now, time is our friend, not our enemy.
Ranulf’s eyes narrowed when he saw that Wallis was holding something black in the hand that wasn’t pushing Sephie toward him. Probably the gun Sephie had mentioned him having earlier.
As if a gun would ever harm us, his dragon scorned.
It was true that a bullet, unless it was armor-piercing, couldn’t penetrate the dragon scales beneath Ranulf’s skin. Even then, it would only be an inconvenience that would heal itself within minutes.
But that ability didn’t apply to Ranulf’s mate. Not yet. Once they were mated—if Sephie agreed to the mating—she would take on the ability to change into a dragon and her skin would have the same resilience to bullets and other harmful projectiles.
But the other silence in his head told him that time hadn’t yet come. Which meant that for the moment, Sephie was vulnerable and Ranulf had to give the impression that the other man had the upper hand.
The same hand that the other man had dared to touch Ranulf’s mate with, and which Ranulf was already relishing breaking every bone in once this situation was resolved.
“We meet at last,” Wallis taunted as he came to a halt several feet away from Ranulf. He continued to hold Sephie in front of him as a shield.
“I assure you the pleasure is all yours,” Ranulf dismissed, more concerned that Sephie was no longer meeting his gaze.
The strength she had shown when they met outside earlier today had completely dissipated, her expression now one of deep despair.
“Sephie?” Ranulf prompted evenly.
She finally lifted those defeated eyes, pleading, begging him, for something.
With her freedom to speak curtailed and their mating not yet in place, along with that distinct lack of concern for her own welfare he had sensed earlier, Ranulf could only guess her distress now to be out of concern for her parents.
Time, Ranulf promised her inwardly. It was just a matter of keeping Wallis occupied until the time was right for Ranulf to disarm and neutralize the arrogant bastard who had dared to touch his mate.
In the meantime, Ranulf had to suffer through letting this fool believe he wouldn’t squash him like a bug the moment he was free to do so.
“Don’t even think about doing anything other than what I tell you to do,” Wallis warned in a mistakenly confident voice.
“If I even suspect you’re being anything other than compliant, I will press this button and…
boom.” He held up the hand Ranulf had assumed held a gun.
Instead, it was a small black controller with a large red button.
“The inn will blow up with this one’s parents tied up inside if you decide to go that route.
” He gave Sephie’s shoulder a hard enough squeeze to make her wince.
“It’s truly amazing what you can learn from the internet nowadays! ”
Now? his dragon urged.
Soon, Ranulf bit out his own impatient reply.
Now that Ranulf knew of the impending danger to Sephie’s parents, it was obvious why Wallis had chosen this particular building for their meeting.
The church was built of solid stone slabs hewn into shape, each one two feet long, a foot wide, and a foot thick.
They would protect anyone inside the church if there were an explosion in the inn twenty or so yards away.
“I’m sure you don’t want that to happen,” Wallis challenged when Ranulf didn’t answer him.
Ranulf gave Sephie another brief glance, hoping it conveyed the need he felt for her to trust him.
It was a big ask, he knew, on such a short acquaintance, but for now, it was all he had.
His face settled into its usually disinterested mask as he turned his gaze to meet Wallis’s triumphant one.
“I only met Miss Malcolm today. I don’t know her parents at all.
So why would your threatening to kill them be of any concern to me?
” He saw, and deeply regretted, the alarmed way Sephie began to struggle in Wallis’s grip.
He could feel her beautiful eyes glaring at him for what she no doubt perceived as his complete callousness toward the possible death of her parents.
For the moment, Ranulf had no choice but to play this situation out to the end. To continue to waste precious time. He only hoped that when this was all over, Sephie wouldn’t hate him too much for putting her through the added distress of thinking he was unwilling to help her parents.
The truth was, he would do everything and anything to ensure his mate’s happiness. Ensuring her parents’ safety was top of that list.
Wallis looked nonplussed for several seconds before that look of mockery returned. “You don’t mean that.”
Ranulf gave a derisive smile as he shook his head. “You really don’t know the nature of the beast you’re hunting, do you?” It was a challenge, not a question.
“But I have every intention of knowing all there is to know about that particular beast,” Wallis taunted.
Ranulf’s smile was pitying. “You have no idea of the capabilities of the monsters you’ve awoken.”
“And yet I’m still the one setting the rules and making the demands,” Wallis scorned.
Ranulf’s nostrils flared. “For the moment.”
Wallis gave a derisive huff. “That won’t change when I’m the one who has possession of the journal.”
“After killing the young man who stole it for you.” He sent Sephie an apologetic grimace when he saw the horror in her widened eyes.
Wallis shrugged. “There are always casualties in any war. Ah, yes. While we’re on that subject… I don’t suppose you have any idea where my niece is currently? She disappeared over a week ago in the company of one of your brothers.”
“Zoey isn’t your niece,” Ranulf dismissed.
Nor, considering they now knew Wallis was responsible for the demise of Zoey’s parents so that he could become her guardian and have access to her trust fund, did Ranulf believe this man had any real interest in her welfare now.
“But you do know where she is,” Wallis pressed.
“Isn’t any attempt at concern on your part as to her whereabouts a little late in coming?”
“Oh, I’m not concerned about Zoey,” he scorned. “I’m only interested in knowing the whereabouts of your big bastard of a brother. As Zoey is probably still with him, I thought I would ask where she was rather than him,” he calmly explained.
As if Ranulf cared what this man’s thought processes were. “They are both somewhere safe.”
“And your other brother and the girl who originally bought the journal?”
“Also safe.” His eyes narrowed. “Where is the journal now?”
“Also safe,” Wallis mocked. “More than a fair trade for a large chunk of your treasure, don’t you think?”