Chapter 3
HAVE YOU NO HONOR?
Arioch
An earsplitting shriek woke me.
I shot up in bed, registering the alarm of my inheritance, my burden, and my last line of defense, which now shrieked a warning through every stone as I barked out a command. “Show me.”
The consciousness bound within my ancestral home answered with an image that flickered into my mind, temporarily blocking my vision and showing a figure, cloaked in shadow, standing in my…
My hoard?
Impossible. However, an even more pressing problem presented itself in the empty wooden box perched on the pedestal beside the intruder.
How?
The manor offered no explanation, and the image vanished.
Rage burned away the last dregs of sleep, and my feet hit the floor hard enough to shake the foundation.
I magicked on my trousers and snatched up the sword resting beside my bed.
Silentium hummed in my hand, feeding off my anger.
Someone had entered my sanctum and dared to touch my treasure. They would die today.
Take me there.
I stepped forward, expecting the manor to teleport me immediately to intercept the thief, but nothing happened.
My wrath mounted, both at this inexcusable delay and at the exceedingly brief list of suspects forming in my mind.
Fewer than a handful of my sire’s trusted allies possessed the amulet required to breach the ward.
Of those, only Fleur had the audacity to believe she could steal from me and survive.
The diabolical elven vixen lived to try my patience, refusing to tie herself to me or to grant me the peace of her permanent departure.
She surfaced periodically to overturn my existence and torment me with what could never be.
Yet surely even she knew that violating my hoard invited certain death.
Unable to hear my own thoughts above the blaring alarm, I mentally bellowed, Silence!
The sound ceased abruptly, and I focused on the figure the manor had shown me and stepped forward.
Magic condensed as the manor finally transported me.
I found myself standing outside my chamber door, entirely alone.
Arcane energy surged through my veins, empowering my limbs as I crouched low, inhaling the air and hunting for the slightest trace of anything abnormal.
There was no sign of Fleur, nor of any other intruder.
Gripping Silentium, I eased forward, listening.
Where is the intruder?
Again, the manor deigned not to answer.
Thankfully, I required no assistance. The thief had been foolish enough to steal from my hoard, forging the connection that would demand my attention until I reclaimed what was mine.
Failure to do so would shatter my very sanity.
Even now, I felt the insistent pull upon my awareness, demanding that I fulfill my sworn duty and return it to its rightful home. Focusing on the thread connecting us, I sensed the artifact as it drew nearer until it was upon me.
Yet I was still alone in the corridor.
I spun in a circle, searching for the thief. Faint thuds sounded above me.
Were those footsteps on the roof?
My gaze snapped upward, but the ceiling blocked my view. I surged toward the stairs leading to the courtyard and scaled an exterior column. My palm struck the rooftop precisely as my ears caught the impact of feet meeting earth.
Dread clawed at my composure, and I drew upon magic to propel myself the remaining distance.
Most dragons lacked the gift of flight in their mortal form, but my sire’s blood coursed through my veins as well, blessing me with abilities beyond the common wyrm.
Gliding atop the manor, I loosed a snarl of frustration and raced to the opposite side to survey the grounds.
Why am I the sole pursuer?
My home offered no answer, leading me to assume the alarm had been directed at me alone.
Before I could reach out to the minds of my subjects and request backup, movement seized my attention.
A dark figure darted through the shadows toward the hedge.
Nimble and swift, the thief was already past the crops and almost to the border of my demesne.
I considered assuming my true form and delivering a swift conclusion to this affront, but my thirst for answers kept me in my skin.
Sword firmly gripped in hand, I launched myself through the darkness, flying over the intruder and descending into a crouch that barred their escape. Infusing my words with the authority befitting my station as lord and master of this territory, I called out, “Halt.”
The larcenist froze.
Startled, so did I.
A fitted black tunic and trousers hugged enticing feminine curves, but the top of her head barely reached my sternum, making her much shorter than Fleur. The rounded tips of her ears, scarcely visible beneath her dark cap, confirmed that she was indeed no elf.
Shadows obscured the first unfamiliar face to cross the ward in more than a decade.
Curiosity grew into a compulsion that settled beneath my scales like an itch I simply had to scratch.
With barely a thought, I summoned forth a sphere of light.
Glowing ice, roughly the size of my fist, flashed into existence and hovered above my left shoulder.
She lifted her chin and locked eyes with me, at last exposing her features.
The air whooshed out of my lungs, and I stumbled back a half step before catching myself and straightening.
Locks of hair the intense red of a garnet, had escaped her cap and framed her unfamiliar pale face. High cheekbones spattered with freckles, heart-shaped lips, and irises the deep green of a storm-soaked woodland put me in mind of a wood nymph I had once glimpsed in an ancestral memory.
Positively enchanting.
The thought struck me like lightning, unwelcome and immediate. This female had violated my sanctuary, stolen from my hoard, and triggered every protective instinct bred into my bones. Yet here I stood, transfixed by the elegant curve of her jaw and the heated way her gaze raked over my bare chest.
Light reflected off metal as she took a swipe at me.
I easily parried.
She spun away from my counterattack and dropped into a defensive stance, taking my measure.
I mirrored her stance, looking pointedly at her blades. “You brought daggers to a sword fight?”
Her chin lifted in defiance, and the corner of her lips tilted into a sneer. “I hear it’s not the size of the weapon, but how you use it.” Her voice was like honey mead: smooth, rich, and utterly intoxicating, making it difficult to focus on her words.
“Then you have never faced a master of the blade. Yield.”
Her eyes widened. “Why would I do a stupid thing like that?”
“Because if you come peacefully, I will allow you to live.”
Her gaze darted behind me toward the breach.
The hedge should have been impervious to blades, but she had somehow carved a path through it.
Her movement exposed the metal pendant that hung from a short leather cord, nestled against the exposed flesh of her sternum.
Only those attuned to the magic could bear the touch of my sire’s creations, meaning someone must have gifted her entry to my lands. But who?
“Where did you get that?” I asked.
Her eyes flickered down to follow my gaze, and her lips pursed together. Offering no response, she watched me with those woodland-green eyes, calculating her next move.
“I asked you a question.”
She shifted her weight, muscles coiling beneath her form-fitting clothes. “Does it matter?”
“Absolutely.” I advanced a step, sword still raised. “Someone has betrayed my family, and I will have their name.”
Her jaw clenched.
The silence gnawed at me, fraying the edges of my patience. “Answer me.”
Defiance sparked in her gaze. “Or what?”
Scales prickled my skin, begging to emerge and teach her proper deference. Instead, I closed the distance between us in three strides. She raised her daggers, but I spun out of her reach and caught both wrists in one hand, yanking them above her head and forcing her onto her toes.
“Or I will carve my answers from your tongue.”
“Let go!”
Soft curves and taut muscle ground against me as she struggled to get free. Her maddeningly elusive scent finally teased my nostrils, only to fade again before I could discern it.
I tightened my grip on her wrists until she released both daggers. They tumbled to the ground at our feet.
“You will accompany me to my dungeon, where you will remain until you cooperate.”
“Like hell I will.”
I chuckled. “You seem to be under the misconception that you have options, but the moment you touched my treasure, you forfeited your freedom.” I released my sword, letting magic store it, and wrapped my now-free arm around her waist. She kicked at my shins and twisted in my grasp, but I drew her flush against me, hoisting her off the ground. “Yield.”
“This is kidnapping!”
“That is a ridiculous claim.” I strode toward the manor, dragging her along. “You trespassed on my land and stole my property. Your head is mine to take. Instead, I offer clemency and a chance to make amends for your transgressions. A show of gratitude would be prudent, lest I change my mind.”
She only bucked harder. “Put me down, you overgrown—”
A boom echoed beyond my ward, confirming the thief was not alone. Firearms were not among my chosen weapons, but I had trained enough to recognize a shotgun’s blast. Bullets could not breach the ward, but the unexpected sound distracted me long enough for the thief to slip free.
She dove for her daggers and then whirled into a flurry of strikes.
I parried.
She feinted and countered, fighting to penetrate my defenses.
Her speed was impressive, her strikes powerful.
Despite her slight frame, blocking her blows required actual effort, yet I had been practicing footwork since childhood, and she was no match for my superior strength and reach.
She dodged sideways, and rather than pursuing, I lunged in, snaking an arm around her midsection and pinning her daggers to her sides.
I held her there, her back pressed against my front, and caught my breath.