Chapter 15
Something was wrong.
Zane stood at the suite's window, watching the morning light play across the resort's pristine grounds. Mercy had been gone for over an hour. Long enough for a simple conversation about bounties and security protocols. Long enough for his dragon to start pacing restlessly beneath his skin.
He told himself he was being paranoid. She'd said Myles was an old friend, someone she trusted. And he’d known Judd long enough to know he was a competent man.
She'd asked for space to handle things herself, and he needed to respect that.
Crowding his mate would only send her running back to the independent life she'd built for herself.
But every instinct he possessed screamed that something was off.
The rational part of his mind provided perfectly logical explanations.
Myles could have been called away on resort business.
Mercy might have gotten distracted by the technical specs of some new ship in the hangar.
She could be catching up with her friend over coffee, sharing stories about their freight-running days.
His dragon didn't care about logic. His dragon was certain his mate was in danger.
His dragon needed to get a grip.
Zane ran both hands through his hair, trying to settle the restless energy building under his skin. Already, smoke was pouring off of him, making the room smell like a campfire.
He was new to this whole mating thing. Maybe protective paranoia was normal. Maybe every dragon lord spent the first few weeks after finding their mate jumping at shadows and imagining threats that didn't exist.
But Mercy's scent was fading from the suite, and his skin itched with the need to find her. To confirm she was safe with his own eyes.
Ten more minutes. He'd give her ten more minutes, then he'd go looking. He could apologize for intruding on her privacy later. Somehow. Maybe with a nice bottle of wine and a massage.
He’d told her she had two hours. What was a few dozen minutes difference?
The minutes crawled by like hours. Outside, resort staff moved through their morning routines. Guests lounged by pools that sparkled like jewels in the desert sun. Everything looked perfectly normal.
So why did the hair on the back of his neck refuse to settle?
Eight minutes left.
He paced the suite's main room. The space felt too large without Mercy's presence, too empty despite the luxury furnishings. Her clothes from yesterday lay draped over a chair where she'd left them, and he caught himself breathing in the faint trace of her scent that clung to the fabric.
Pathetic. He was acting like a lovesick teenager instead of a grown dragon lord with generations of breeding behind him.
Five minutes.
The comm unit on the side table chimed softly. Zane lunged for it, hoping for a message from Mercy explaining the delay. Instead, he found a routine notification about meal service and entertainment schedules. Nothing useful.
His reflection in the darkened screen showed wild hair and eyes that flickered with barely contained fire. He looked like exactly what he was. A dragon whose mate was out of sight and potentially in danger.
Three minutes.
To hell with it.
Zane grabbed a shirt and headed for the door. Mercy could scold him for being overprotective later, preferably while she was safe in his arms. Right now, he needed to see her. Needed to confirm his instincts were wrong and she was perfectly fine.
The resort was easy enough to navigate. He'd visited Saffron Court often enough over the years to know the layout. Myles Judd's office was tucked away in the administrative wing, a modest space that reflected the man's practical nature.
The door stood slightly ajar when Zane reached it. No voices carried from within. No sound at all, actually, which seemed wrong for a meeting between old friends.
"Mercy?" He pushed the door open wider, stepping into the empty office.
She wasn't there.
Zane's gaze swept the small space, cataloging details. An overturned chair. Papers scattered across the floor. Scuff marks on the carpet that could have been from a struggle.
His heated blood turned to ice.
He crossed the small office in three quick strides to the window, pressing his palms against the reinforced glass. The view overlooked the main landing platform, and what he saw there made his vision go red around the edges.
Mercy was being dragged across the tarmac by two pirates he recognized from their captivity. Her hands were bound in front of her, and she fought their grip with the fierce determination he'd come to know so well. But she was outnumbered, overpowered by men twice her size.
Captain Horris walked beside them, his scarred face split by a satisfied grin. And there, bringing up the rear like this was perfectly normal business, was Myles Judd.
The betrayal raked over Zane like enemy fire. Mercy had trusted Judd. Had called him friend. Had walked into his office believing she was safe.
Instead, she'd been sold out.
Rage exploded through Zane's chest, dragon fire racing along his nerves. The window glass cracked under his grip, hairline fractures spreading outward from his fingers. Heat poured off his skin in waves, and he could taste smoke on the back of his tongue.
They had his mate. They were taking her to that ship where they'd drain every drop of blood from her body for some treasure map encoded in her DNA.
Not happening.
Zane turned and ran. Through the office, down the corridor, out the nearest exit that led to the landing platform. His feet barely touched the ground as he sprinted across the tarmac, closing the distance between him and the group of pirates.
One of the pirates noticed him coming and shouted a warning. Horris spun around, his expression shifting from satisfaction to alarm as he took in Zane's approach. The man was smart enough to recognize a dragon in full protective fury.
Smart enough to be afraid.
Twenty yards between them. Close enough.
Zane launched himself into the air, his body already shifting before he reached the apex of his jump. Bones stretched and reformed. Scales erupted across his skin in waves of gold and red. Wings unfurled as he completed the transformation, casting a shadow across the entire landing platform.
His roar shook the air itself, a sound of pure rage that sent smaller creatures scurrying for cover. Below him, the pirates scattered like insects, abandoning their captive as they dove for whatever cover they could find.
Except for Horris, who was apparently too stupid to run.
The pirate captain produced a massive blaster and began firing plasma bolts at Zane's exposed belly.
The shots sizzled past, close enough that Zane could feel their heat.
One connected with his left wing, sending pain lancing through the membrane.
He rolled right, diving toward the platform with claws extended.
More weapons fire erupted from the pirate ship itself. Someone inside had activated the vessel's defensive systems, and energy beams sliced through the air where Zane had been moments before.
Those could do real damage if they connected. Could potentially kill him if they hit something vital.
He pulled up sharply, wings straining against the sudden change in direction. The ship's gunner tracked his movement, spraying fire across his flight path. Zane rolled left, then right, staying ahead of the targeting system through pure speed and agility.
But he couldn't keep this up forever. And every second he spent dodging gave them more time to secure Mercy.
Below, he caught sight of her breaking free from the chaos. She'd somehow gotten loose from her restraints and was running toward a cluster of maintenance equipment.
Good. His mate was getting herself to safety while he dealt with the immediate threats.
Then one of the pirates on the platform swung his weapon toward her fleeing form.
The sight of a blaster aimed at Mercy triggered something primal in Zane's hindbrain. Something that cared nothing for strategy or consequences or his own safety. His mate was threatened. Everything else became secondary.
He folded his wings and dove.
Dragon fire erupted from his throat in a torrent of superheated plasma.
The first blast caught the pirate targeting Mercy, reducing him to ash before he could pull the trigger.
The second engulfed two more pirates who'd been foolish enough to remain on the platform.
The third turned a section of tarmac to molten slag.
The ship's defensive systems swiveled toward his new position. Zane tried to pull up, tried to regain altitude before they could lock onto him. He almost made it.
The laser caught him along his left side, searing through scales and into the muscle beneath. Agony exploded along his flank, white-hot pain that disrupted his flight rhythm. His wing folded involuntarily, and suddenly, he was falling rather than flying.
The impact with the platform drove the breath from his lungs and sent fresh waves of pain through his injured side.
He tried to maintain dragon form, tried to keep the advantage of size and natural weapons.
But the damage was too severe. His body reverted to human shape without his conscious control, leaving him bleeding on the scorched tarmac.
His left arm hung uselessly at his side, the flesh blackened and blistered from the energy weapon. Every breath sent fire through his ribs. He could taste blood on his tongue.
But he was alive. And most of the pirates were very much not.
Horris and Myles Judd emerged from behind a piece of maintenance equipment, both pointing blasters at Zane's chest. They were close. Even injured, he might survive the shots, but he wasn't sure how much more damage he could absorb.
"You should have minded your own business, dragon," Horris snarled. His scarred face was flushed with anger and what might have been fear. "Now you get to watch your lady friend bleed out nice and slow."
"The bounty didn’t say anything about you," Myles added, though his hands shook as he kept his weapon trained on Zane.
Zane tried to push himself upright, ignoring the way his vision grayed around the edges. If he could get to his feet, if he could summon enough fire to take them both out before they pulled their triggers …
"Zane, down!"
Mercy's voice cut through the haze of pain and rage. He threw himself flat against the platform without hesitation, trusting her completely even though he couldn't see what she had planned.
Twin blaster shots sizzled through the air where his head had been moments before.
Horris stumbled backward, a smoking hole in his chest where his heart used to be. Myles Judd crumpled to his knees, his weapon clattering across the tarmac as he clutched at the massive burn that had replaced most of his torso.
Mercy stood twenty feet away, a fallen pirate's las rifle still smoking in her hands. Her clothes were torn and dirty, her face streaked with sweat and debris. But her eyes blazed with fierce satisfaction as she watched their enemies fall.
Beautiful. His mate was absolutely beautiful.
She dropped the rifle and ran to him, falling to her knees beside his injured form. Her hands hovered over his burns, afraid to touch but needing to assess the damage.
"How bad?" she asked, her voice steady despite the tears tracking down her cheeks.
"I'll live." The words came out rougher than he'd intended, his throat raw from dragon fire and impact trauma. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine. You came for me." She said it like she couldn't quite believe it. Like the idea of someone riding to her rescue was foreign and wonderful and terrifying all at once.
"Always." He reached up with his good hand to cup her face.
Then she was kissing him, fierce and desperate and full of everything she couldn't put into words. Relief and gratitude and something even bigger, though neither of them was ready to name it yet.
He kissed her back with all the passion his injured body could muster, pouring his own relief and devotion into her hold.