Chapter 9 #2
Beneath my hand, the rose sank deep into the mantle, stopping with a hearty clunk. Unseen gears whirled and knocked. The sound of stone scraping hit my ears, and I gasped, pressing my palm to my chest. Someone would surely hear.
I took a step back, glancing between the mantle and the door. When nobody stormed into the room, I exhaled a cautious breath. Now to figure out what I’d accomplished.
I turned in a slow circle. One of the tapestries along the wall rippled in an invisible breeze. I hurried to it, peeling the fabric aside to reveal the faint outline of a door. A cool draft seeped through the cracks. I pressed my palms against the stone and shoved.
The wall gave under my push, grinding back to reveal a narrow opening. Chilly air, thick with damp and decay, wafted from the opening. A hidden passage. Excitement pulsed through my veins. This could be my way out.
Hold on, Speck. I’m coming.
Inside the passage, it was pitch black, so I borrowed a lamp with a glowing crystal from the bedside table and hustled back, stepping into the corridor.
Stone walls surrounded me, the space only slightly larger than my body. The weight of the mountain pressed in, the air thin in my lungs. Despite the panic that threatened to rise, I couldn’t afford to stop. Not if I were to escape this place.
The dark tunnel twisted and turned. I counted my footsteps. First, to keep my nerves in check, and second, to measure the distance I’d traveled.
Two hundred ten. Two hundred eleven.
Three hundred.
Four.
Five.
Tiny claws scrabbled in the path behind me. Memories of the attack threatened to rise. The strange clacking noise the monsters made. Blood. Screams.
My legs moved faster. Breath panting. Pulse pounding.
A stone barrier filled my vision. Dead end. My heart sank, and I held the lamp higher. Dark shadows split the wall in opposite directions.
“It’s a crossroads,” I whispered, my voice booming in the quiet. What if I chose wrong and ended up lost in the tunnels for all of eternity? I closed my eyes and heaved a slow breath. Calm down, Sera. Don’t let panic rule you.
Deep beneath my sternum, I felt a slight draw to turn left. My eyes popped open, and I rubbed at the tingling sensation. Was that my gut speaking to me? If so, it had never been so loud.
With nothing else to guide me, it would have to do. Left it was.
I trudged along the darkened passage, some sixth sense urging me to keep going. To follow the dull spark that flickered in my chest.
At the next split, the tingling grew stronger, insisting that I head to the right, and I obeyed its command.
Trepidation slowed my steps. What if this tunnel led me into the bowels of the mountain? A shiver chased up my spine. Maybe I should turn around. Return with a weapon. Or breadcrumbs. Or sanity. Yaga always did say I was far too impulsive, my curiosity often getting the better of me.
I needed to go back. Just as I prepared to retreat, a dull light illuminated the end of the corridor.
My pulse skipped. Please let it be a way out.
If not out of the mountain, then at least out of this coffin-like tunnel.
I softened my footsteps, drawing closer until I could make out another door similar to the secret passage in my bedroom.
This one, however, was broken. I reached for it, then froze.
A voice rumbled from the other side.
Low. Resonant.
Heart thundering, I pressed my back to the wall. I wasn’t alone. Could the dragon have imprisoned someone else in this crumbling ruin?
I set the lamp with its glowing crystal on the floor and crept forward.
Rough muttering drifted through the broken doorway, laced with curses and something else— Pain? I edged closer and leaned in, careful to remain silent.
Closer still, and the mumbling became words. “Thousand years I devoted to the bastard, and yet he thinks she is the answer.”
I peered through the opening. A shredded tapestry hung limp across the entrance, barely concealing what lay beyond. Flickering firelight licked the walls of another bedroom. But this one wasn’t merely abandoned—it was wrecked.
A wardrobe lay gutted, its ribs jutting like bones. Shredded linens littered the floors, feathers spilling from eviscerated bedding. This destruction was intentional and fresh, free of dust. Possibly the result of a violent temper.
Shadows danced along the walls as I sucked in a sharp breath, my gaze snapping to the fireplace.
There he was.
Thorne.
Sprawled on a fur rug before the crackling flames, he looked like some fallen deity. One arm propped him up while the other hung loose over his bent knee, a bottle suspended in his crooked finger.
Firelight kissed his bare chest in shades of gold and crimson, each ripple of muscle thrown into sharp relief.
Fine clothes spilled across the floor, tossed aside without a care.
And yet he continued to wear but a single pair of pants.
Boorish oaf. Why dress when the attractive devil could tempt fate—and me—putting every line of his body on display.
His sky-blue eyes stayed locked on the fire, their arrogant gleam hardened by something darker. Shadows coiled, thick and insidious, seeping into every crack and crevice of the room. They threaded through the air, wrapping tight around my lungs, making it hard to breathe.
The pull I’d followed down the tunnels had turned icy. It dragged through my center, bruising from the inside out. The ache spread through my limbs, prickling my skin like frostbite. This feeling. This pain. It didn’t feel like me, but someone else.
Thorne.
He was the source.
How he managed to affect me so, I didn’t know.
He lifted the bottle to his lips, muscles flexing in his biceps, and drank deep.
Burgundy liquid slipped from his mouth, trailing down his chin to splatter against his chest. A singular droplet caught on the swell of his pectoral and rolled, slow and tantalizing, over his nipple before carving a path along his abs.
My mouth went dry, the urge to chase that drop with my tongue sending heat coiling low in my belly.
Firelight played over him, casting molten light across skin that gleamed with sweat. While part of me recognized this was wrong, I couldn’t look away. Not from the elegant line of his throat or the way his Adam’s apple flexed with a slow, aching swallow.
He groaned—a rough, throaty sound—and set the empty bottle down with a dull thud. His hand dragged over his chest, smearing the dark liquid, and his brows drew together. Tension rippled through his body as his jaw clenched.
Something raw and restless flickered behind those eyes, and I couldn’t decide whether to flee or throw myself into the fire right alongside him.
“Have you looked your fill, Princess?” He trailed a hand over his rigid abs, toying with the button on his pants. “Would you like me to show you something even more dangerous than fire?
The spell shattered, and I flinched, heart jamming against my ribs as reality crashed in. What the hell was I doing?
Before I could so much as turn, his hand shot out, iron fingers clamping around my upper arm and yanking me through the doorway. I stumbled, forced to meet his blazing eyes—alive with fury, hot enough to burn.
“Look at the rat I caught crawling about in the walls,” he purred. “What are you doing here?”
That he, of all people, would find me spying was beyond humiliating. I snarled to cover my embarrassment. “Looking for a way to escape this godsforsaken place.”
His grip loosened a fraction, surprise flickering over his face before he barked a humorless laugh. “So, the little liar can tell the truth. Interesting.”
“I can’t stay here. My friend Speck—he could be hurt, or worse. I have to find him.”
Thorne’s expression hardened, his nostrils flaring. “And who is this Speck fellow? A lover, perhaps?” He leaned in, voice a low, treacherous growl, sharp teeth glinting in the firelight.
Heat flooded my cheeks, and I jerked my head back. “You’re disgusting. Is sex all you think about?” It certainly wasn’t what I was thinking about as I peeked into his bedroom. Nope.
His full lips pulled into a twisted smile, something dark and possessive in his gaze. “Not a lover, then. He’s the boy from the pasture, isn’t he? The one you risked your life for.”
I froze, mind reeling. Was he there that night? Watching over the dragon? “How did you—”
“No matter,” he cut me off, dragging me forward.
The massive bed loomed in my vision. Shredded linens spilled over the edges. Panic clawed at my throat. Was he really some sex-crazed demon after all? I dug in my heels, planting myself like a stubborn mule. “Release me, you cretin. I swear, if you lay a single hand on me—”
He spun, eyes burning with raw disdain. “You’ll what? Annoy me to death?”
The bite in his tone made me falter. He didn’t look like a man lusting for flesh, more like one wrestling with demons of his own, ready to snap at the next provocation.
“No, I’ll—”
“Princess, I’d sooner eat a larder full of Myrna’s mystery meat than touch you.”
The burn of his angry words stabbed at my pride, and my resistance floundered enough for him to drag me out the door. In the hallway, I wrenched my arm out of his grasp. “Then why don’t you set me free? Let me leave this place and make my escape.”
Thorne spun to face me. “Because the dragon isn’t done with you—yet.”
Tired of being abused, I thrust out my chin. “You know, if anyone has a right to be mad, it’s me. Seeing as how I cheated death only to discover I’m to be a dragon’s plaything.”
Thorne’s blue eyes narrowed to slits, and he prowled closer. The menace he exuded had me backing up a step, then another, until my back struck the wall.
He glared down at me, and I became all too aware of how much bigger he was, my head only reaching his shoulder. I noted just how alone we were. How his smoky, wildfire scent filled my senses, heat smoldering between our too-close bodies.
Nervous anticipation skittered down my spine, my blood warming in my veins. To run. Surely what I felt was the urge to run. Anything else would prove me insane.
“Listen up, Princess,” he said in a way that raised goosebumps on my flesh. “I’ve little interest in frigid Puritans, so if I catch you lurking in the shadows of my bedroom again, know that you won’t like the outcome.”
“Excuse me?” I balked at the insinuation. “I most certainly was not—
“Nor do I trust you,” he spoke over me. “In fact, I’m quite certain that you are hiding something.”
At the accusation, I slammed my mouth shut. Was it possible he’d spotted the mark on my neck? A mark that was absolutely none of his business.
The egotistical bully went on, adding, “But for some reason, you’ve stolen the dragon’s attention.
For now, he wants you alive. Therefore, I’ll endeavor to keep you that way.
But know this, should you do anything to harm or endanger him” — he puffed a tiny flame from between his lips, igniting his fingertip like a candle — “I will light you on fire and toss you off the flight deck without hesitating.”
My eyes widened, taking in that singular flame. The dragon wasn’t the only one with fire magic.
Before I could fully process the threat, Thorne slammed his flaming fist into the wall beside me. I flinched from the blistering heat that seared the side of my face. Still, it was nothing compared to the anger he radiated, the hard press of it a palpable force that made my knees quake.
“Is that clear?”
“Very,” I managed to squeak.
His arm dropped, freeing me from his bare-chested cage, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Before I’d even recovered, firm hands shoved me down the hallway, and I tripped before catching myself.
“Return to your room,” Thorn snarled. “The castle is dangerous. And so am I.”