“You could just be honest with her,” I suggest. “Instead of trying to manipulate her, maybe just ask her for her help.”
Seb stops eating, his fork poised over his plate, andlooks at me like I’m glowing green. He scoffs. “Never work,” he mumbles.
I don’t argue with him.
The rest of the morning goes by quickly, the dragons acting like they’re preparing for war. After breakfast, Connor moves the table and rolls back the carpet in the dining room to reveal a trapdoor. Inside is an arsenal of weapons the likes of which I’ve never seen before. Guns, daggers, and other weapons are doled out and passed around. I learn they don’t need communication equipment thanks to the dragons’ abilities to communicate psychically. The guys all change into black leather armor designed for fighting. Even Ellison, who takes on an entirely different vibe when he’s not wearing a designer suit.
I picture Roman rowing up to shore in a rented fishing boat and being absolutely annihilated by these four. I know that’s not how it will happen. And I know Roman is more dangerous than he looks. But what could be more lethal than four fire-breathing dragons?
At three, all four of them head out to begin their patrol of the property, leaving me, Bones and Zaire behind. Worry for Connor has me pacing the floors. Finally, I grab my laptop and settle into one of the velvet chairs near the fire in the living room, hoping to distract myself with some writing. Bones curls up next to me. I can hear Zaire humming to himself as he works in the kitchen. It’s all very peaceful, but my muscles are tense, ready. I can hardly concentrate. I wonder again how all of this will impact Vivian.
I’ve written my next Alex Rogue pitch when anotification pops up from my editor. She lovedMilkmaid. They’re moving forward with it. I give an internal squeal. I can’t wait to tell Connor. I’m back, and he’s the one who got me here. He’s the one who inspired me. I do a little dance in my chair.
Then another bubble pops up. Roman’s chat. I glance at the clock. Four p.m. sharp. Is he texting me from the boat?
All it says is “Stay down.”
Bullets rain through the glass windows at the back of the house and I hit the floor. Bones barks viciously at something, but I can’t see what because I’m flat on my belly behind the chair. I abandon the laptop and peek around the base, through Bones’s paws, into the foyer and adjacent hall. I gasp when I see Roman, gun in hand, step over Zaire’s fallen body, eyes locked on me. Bones attacks. Roman doesn’t hesitate.
I scream.
But Roman fires and Bones falls, whimpering, to the floor.
I can’t breathe. I stare and stare as Roman walks right up to me, his black eyes guarded and inaccessible, and hooks a hand around my biceps, pulling me to my feet. How is it that I never noticed how empty his expression is, how waxy, as if his entire countenance is a mask? The corner of his mouth tugs up as he silently ushers me out the back door and onto a helicopter that seems to come out of nowhere and land on the back lawn. We’re on it and in the air before I can process that Bones and Zaire were shot.
He buckles me in, then kisses me hard on the mouth. “Hello, wife.”
Chapter Thirty
CONNOR
“It’s a trick!” Seb yells inside my head as the boat we’ve all been watching approach the dock on the southern border, abruptly veers and speeds away from shore. “That’s not Roman.”
We know we’ve been duped when we hear the spray of bullets and the sound of a chopper in the distance. Fear swarms down my bond with Fiona and knocks the breath from my lungs. He’s come for her, but not here, not where he said, not where his lookalike lured us.
Fuck, that’s why he chose the southern border. It’s the farthest from the lodge, more than a mile of wooded acreage. I can run fast, but I won’t make it in this form. I shift, exploding into the sky, beating my black wings as fast as they will carry me.
I see the helicopter, Fiona strapped into one of the seats, looking absolutely terrified. Roman stands braced in the open side door with his crossbow glowing blueand aimed at me. In that moment, I don’t give a shit if I live or die. I only care about Fiona, about saving her from whatever horrors the bastard has in store for her. I fly faster. I can’t blow fire for fear of hurting her, but if I can catch the helicopter in my claws or teeth?—
A blue bolt flies from Roman’s crossbow. I bank right, but it pierces my lower wing. I roar and speed faster toward my mate, my mind going dark. All my human words melt away, replaced by pure instinct. Another bolt flies. I roll out of the way but I’m hit, the point imbedding deep in my chest, near my left shoulder. Pure agony tears through me, the icy poison branching through my scales. But I don’t stop. A crack forms in my consciousness, and a high-pitched sound bleeds in. A scream. Fiona’s scream.
I see her behind Roman, her hands over her mouth, her eyes red. I’m nothearingher scream. I’m feeling it down our bond. Fuck.
Roman takes aim again, his soulless eyes locking onto mine, that crossbow of his leveled at my head. I attempt an evasive dive, but my injured wing is completely locked from the spreading poison and won’t move. The bolt flies. My eyes widen as I accept that this could be the end.
A flash of green comes from my right, and I’m knocked out of the way as the bolt flies right through where my left eye had been. Talons grip me, and I tumble through the sky, carried by another dragon, one with dark green scales.Ellison. My brain is producing words again.
Yeah, it’s me,fucker,he thinks back to me.You’re hurt, but I’ve got you.
We land behind the lodge and shift back to our human forms. His transformation is graceful. Mine is not. The entire left side of my body feels like barbed ice is being forced through my veins. I roar and try to rise. I have to get to Fiona!
Ellison takes my hand, his eyes still slitted like his dragon’s. “Seb already called Morwyn for Bones and Zaire. He’s on his way. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, brother.”
Those are the last words I hear before the pain is too much and darkness swallows me whole.
Chapter Thirty-One
FIONA
