Breaking the Cage #2
Had I given away my presence and alerted him? Or had he entered a hiding place while he was out of my sight?
I chewed my lip and slipped forward into the deepening shadows, brushing slowly through branches in the line I hoped he’d continued to take because the ground here was firm and didn’t reveal footprints.
I sank into the shadow of a large oak, still stepping carefully and scanning for movement, when the darkness to my left lurched, and something clamped around my neck—the buttoned cloak tightening on my throat.
I was yanked bodily off my feet and the world tilted.
I sucked in a breath to scream, but a thick, calloused hand clapped over my mouth and hot breath rushed against my cheek.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” His tone was chilling. Deadly.
Alarm shrieked in my head. I opened my mouth, but his palm only pressed harder against my lips and muffled any possibility of communication.
‘Fear not.’
I frowned at the other voice, so warm and reassuring. I didn’t recognize it, though it resonated in my chest. But then I squawked because a rough, masculine hand began to sweep all over my body.
“Are you armed?” Vane hissed as if we might not be alone.
I shook my head, squirming under his presumptuous touch, my cheeks heating, even as my fear ratcheted higher.
Yet, he heard nothing but splutters and squeaks, because I couldn’t push any sound past that iron palm clapped over my mouth.
I clawed my nails into his arm, trying to hurt him, to force him to unhand me, but his leather jacket was impenetrable. And when I tried to pull away, he simply whipped me off my feet.
He cursed, muttering, “You chose the wrong target, my lady. I knew you were an enemy from the first. I warned Bren!”
Alarm shrieked through me—had this been a trap? Had he led me this far on purpose, so he could murder me without fear of discovery?
I fought, but he pinned me against his chest so firmly, I could barely wiggle.
Horror rose in my chest as his hands continued to roam my clothing, and the truth of my predicament came home to me.
It was almost night. I was hours’ walk from the castle. I had no weapon, and precious little coin. Even if they were alerted to my absence at the castle, they wouldn’t look for me all the way out here. They’d find the horse in the city and—
I squeaked when the world blurred and the heat of him at my back disappeared.
Suddenly, he filled my vision. A foot taller than me, his black hair falling over his penetrating eyes, narrowed in rage. His hands clamped so hard on my upper arms, I could feel my skin bruising—aided by my struggles.
Then he shook me until my teeth clacked.
“Who sent you? Who are you working for? Tell me!”
I blinked to clear my vision and gasped when one of his hands left my arm and clamped at my throat. He pushed me up against the broad trunk of the tree he’d hidden behind to catch me and pinned me there by my neck.
I clawed at his hand and wrist, barely able to rasp, “No-one!” before his grip tightened further and terrifyingly, I couldn’t breathe at all.
My vision narrowed until all I saw was Vane, his lips pulled back from his teeth, eyes dark and penetrating, locked on me, the angular lines of his face tense, angry, and determined. His broad shoulder locked, bracing his arm to keep me pinned, while his fingers slowly squeezed the life from me.
“Liar! I will give you one more chance. Just one, Grace, if that’s really your name. You tell me who sent you, and what they want with me, or I swear to God, I’ll snap your neck.”
Dear God. He thought I was a spy?
He thought I’d come to hurt them.
And why wouldn’t he?
Oh, Lord, help me. He’s going to kill me and believe himself justified to—
A shrill, piercing blast rang in my ears as the earth under our feet trembled. Vane’s eyes flew wide—then a huge shadow, the color of coagulated blood, passed just inches from my nose and the pressure on my throat was torn away.
I stumbled forward, heaving at the air, as a masculine shout trembled the leaves overhead. I staggered to a halt a few paces away, mouth open to suck greater lungfuls of air, but also in shock.
Perhaps, he’d strangled me after all. Perhaps I was dead, or asleep. Because it seemed impossible that the man I’d been following, who’d so effortlessly overcome me, now dangled high in the air, his belt caught on a thick branch—no.
No.
I gasped another breath and staggered back a step as the branch eased away, then swung forward, fast as a whip, tossing him through the air, limbs spread and eyes wide, until he hit the dirt with an awful thud, though his body tucked and he rolled to his feet, swaying, blinking rapidly, hands up in a plea for mercy.
‘You are safe. I kill him.’
That voice again, and this time the creature turned its mighty head, and I found myself locked in an amber gaze so deep, it surely must have seen God?
My jaw dropped. “Who are you?”
The dragon huffed. ‘Calm, Firebird. I kill him.’
It turned back to face Vane, swelling, wings lifting and fangs bared—to protect me?
My breath stopped. “Wait. No. He’s not—”
A roar shattered the silence of the evening forest. I flinched, my ears ringing. A second creature—painted gold by the sunlight above the trees—dove into the shadows to land on all fours between Vane and the dragon who’d spoken to me, the earth shaking so nearby trees swayed at the impact.
Its head was low, ears pinned back—and mouth wide open to reveal foot-long fangs.
The dragon who’d saved me growled and smoke rose in plumes from its nostrils as it snarled and lunged.
I scrambled back to put the tree between me and these monsters, when Vane’s voice rose over the chaos.
“Kham! Watch out for the girl—”
Both dragons froze. And so did I.
The moment hung like a raindrop, quivering on the tip of a leaf.
The silence in the wake of those ear-shattering roars was eerie. My pulse pounded in my ears.
Panicked, I looked back and forth between the two terrifying creatures, whose ears suddenly pricked forward, their wings trembling, and nostrils flared as their deep breaths huffed into the evening air.
Had Vane stopped these towering creatures with a simple word?
I snapped my head to gape at him, stunned and awed. He stood tall, hands at his sides, but open for action, his broad shoulders heaving. But no expression on his face, bar a fierce intensity.
He never took his eyes off the golden dragon that had landed in front of him, but slowly raised one hand, palm flat, toward me.
“Don’t… move…” he breathed. “Just—”
‘Mate,’ that warm, impossible voice breathed in my head. ‘He is Mate.’