Chapter 33 #2
Race moved through the darkness, his boots silent on the worn stone. The air pressed down. Shadows crawled over the walls, and for a moment, the old nightmares—red-hot shackles, chains, screams, endless darkness—rose like a tide. His breath stuttered, and his dragon growled, clawing to break free.
No, dammit.
He reached inward for Ash’s warmth, that steady glow inside him, and breathed again. The darkness eased its grip.
His every sense honed to a blade’s edge once more.
The tunnel reeked of damp stone and old dragon magic, but something fouler slid beneath—fear, and the metallic tang of blood soaked too deeply into rock to ever fade.
His claws extended involuntarily, piercing his palms. Blood welled warm against his skin as the rut simmered beneath, stretching his control thinner with each breath.
He forced his talons to retract, jaw locked so tight his teeth ached—not surprised the tiny portion of elixir hadn’t sustained him for long.
Koal halted at a junction, his head cocked, scouting mentally. “Patrol coming.”
Fuck! He should’ve caught that. The fever was screwing with his head, shredding his focus.
“It’s a full squad,” Koal growled. “They’ve got hounds.”
Of course. Why the hell would it ever be simple? Sneak in, save the young, tear down this godsdamn hellhole, and walk away.
The faint metallic clicks of weapons echoed down the passage, followed by low, inhuman growls. Race caught the acrid odor of the beasts, mutts forged with dragon blood to track shifter signatures. One whiff of their group and—
“Back,” he growled.
Too late.
The hounds’ barks shattered the dark as guards rounded the corner, their weapons raised. “Intruders!”
Arrows hissed through the air. Race blurred forward—
A shaft hissed for Skaldr as he set the first charge.
Race snapped the arrow midair, the rut-fever surging hot and violent, honing his focus to feral aggression.
He lunged for the guard, and armor tore beneath his massive talons.
Bone crunched as his claws closed in on the guard’s heart. Screams tore the air.
Steel clanged around them, the ruckus echoing sharply in the contained space.
Varkyn’s massive form filled the tunnel behind him. “Find the rest of those pressure vents, plant the charges,” he barked at Skaldr. “We’ll hold here!”
His vision pulsed red at the edges, the rut-fever sharpening every sense to a predator’s edge. He summoned his Gaian sword. It appeared in a smoky flash, its edge humming with living power, and he swung, beheading the bastard charging him.
Pain flared white-hot as steel bit into his back. He spun with a snarl and drove his fist through the attacker’s chest. The guard shrieked as his ribs snapped like twigs.
“Side tunnel, guards!” Rhaedra’s warning sliced through the chaos. She spun, her hair flying and her sword swinging as reinforcements poured from the right.
No time for this shit.
“Duck!” Race barked. The instant his team dropped, he flung out his free hand—fire arrows exploded from his palm, a storm of molten light punching through armor and flesh.
Screams echoed off the stone as they burned where they stood.
Gaia’s gift, his fire, honed into a weapon this world had never seen.
Normal dragons could only spew flames.
He was all flame and weapon.
He stalked past the smoking bodies without slowing.
“Hold!” Koal’s voice carried from ahead. “Magic traps here…” His voice faded.
“What the fuck now?” Skaldr growled. “Rhaedra, can you undo them?”
“I can, but not quickly—”
“Come on.” Koal’s voice drifted from deeper in the tunnel. “Found an older route. This way.”
They pushed on, while Skaldr stopped to plant the explosives in the vents they passed. The path narrowed, twisting under the mountain’s belly, the air thick with dust and the coppery sting of old stone.
His dragon rumbled, its distress rearing at the confined space, too reminiscent of Tartarus’ coffin cell.
We’ll be out soon. He shoved the words down into himself, half command, part prayer. The rut-fire roaring through his blood at least drowned out the memories of void-irons, the endless dark, and didn’t bring him to his knees in the claustrophobic place.
Ash. His bond to her throbbed like a heartbeat in his chest, tethering him to the present, keeping him from losing his mind.
“This way,” Koal’s whisper cut through the gloom. He pulled away fallen rocks to reveal a narrow gap and slipped through. “The holding cells, we can still reach them. Lower tunnel.”
Lower? Race’s teeth ached from the grinding of his jaw.
“It joins again three hundred paces ahead,” Koal’s voice echoed to him. “Drops us right where we need to be.”
They moved like shadows, their boots whispering over the worn ground, the narrowness of the tunnel closing in on him.
Ash. Her warm presence within his mind, soft and steady, hauled him back only for his rut to burn hotter. Fuck. His chest heaved. His cock ached, his dragon snarled, and he fought to concentrate on the mission—
A muffled sob carried through the tunnel, and his vision bled red. They were close. Voices drifted to them.
Rhaedra brushed past him, her pilfered brown-and-gold garments catching the torchlight, Malcarion’s crest glinting faintly on her chest. “Two minutes. Let me clear the way.”
They waited as she slipped around the corner. Then her voice drifted back, smooth as honey and just as dangerous. “Captain, what a surprise. I was just looking for you...”
Race braced his palm to the rough wall, the bite of cold stone holding him up as another molten wave rolled through him.
His entire body burned, muscles coiling too tight, his dragon’s agitation growing.
Through their bond, Ash’s first flicker of strain brushed his mind—thin, sharp, and gone too quickly, hauling him back from the edge.
Hold on, heart-fire, he soothed, even as his dragon raged to go to her. We’re nearly there. But his mate’s growing strain gnawed at his focus.
Koal’s hand settled on his arm. “You good?” he whispered.
“Fine.” He straightened, the lie tasting like rusting metal. “On Rhaedra’s signal, we move.”
The children were waiting. His mate was out there fighting to hold the storm. And his dragon—his dragon was on the edge of exploding.
The storm raged above Ash, lightning forking through the dark clouds like veins of fire. Her hands shook as she fought to keep the eye steady, her breath coming in sharp gasps. The bitter winds whipped about, stinging her face, but she barely felt the chill.
Something warm trickled from her nose—
“You’re bleeding.” Gentle fingers pressed a cloth beneath her nose, wiping away the blood before it froze. “You’re pushing too hard.”
She shook her head, didn’t speak, her hands still held out, her focus on the mountain. Maintaining the eye was like trying to hold back an ocean. Her temples throbbed, and her vision blurred at the edges.
The clouds parted slightly. Dragon patrols wheeled in the strong wind shear of the eye’s wall, keeping them out of the calmer center.
“They cannot take off in that ring of winds,” Attor rumbled. “Numbers down to half.”
Good.
Her body screamed for rest. No matter her mental exhaustion and aching arms, she remained ever aware of her mate’s warm light within her as he moved deeper into the mountain, a warmth she clung to—
Pain ripped through her mind, and she gasped. Not hers.
“Race!” a cry tore from her throat as lightning split the sky, responding to her terror. Then rage slammed into her—raw, feral, unstoppable—bleeding through their bond with such force, it stole her breath. His fury burned through her veins, wild and primitive.
Oh, God. What was happening to him?
The storm above bucked and twisted, slipping her psychic grip.
“You’re losing the eye!” Attor yelled against the howling winds, grabbing her shoulders and dragging her back from the edge. “They need you now.”
“I’ve got it—I got it!” She fought the spiraling winds, mentally forcing the pressure to hold. Lightning speared dangerously close—too close.
Race? she called through their bond, desperate to reach him.
Not...now...heart-fire. Have to... Another surge of the strange burning heat swamped her.
Her legs buckled, but Attor caught her, anchoring her. “Focus, lass!”
“I can’t,” she gasped. “Need a minute—”
“We don’t have minutes,” Attor barked, his fear cracking through her haze. “They’re counting on you.”
Wind screamed through the peaks, tearing at her coat, the storm threatening to slip out of her control.
No, no—
Sucking icy air into her sore lungs, Ash reached deeper within herself, clawing for power beyond bone and blood. The storm’s roar ricocheted inside her skull as she fought to maintain control. The world around her howled. Her vision bled red.
Hot wetness streamed from her nose, but she ignored it.
Every heartbeat, every shred of strength went into holding the eye steady, keeping the usurpers’ army of guards out.
Because if she fell, so would her friends, her allies, her team…her mate.