Chapter Seven
THORNE
“Thorne!”
My brother’s voice thundered inside my skull, cracking like a whip.
“Busy,” I shouted, then winced, pressing my fingers into my throbbing temples.
Beside me on a small table was the bottle of Ambrosia I’d discovered in the castle stores. With a grimace, I tipped it back and drained the last burning swallow.
“Flight deck. Now.”Alaric’s command hit harder this time. Daggers stabbed my skull, threatening to scramble my brain if I didn’t obey. Dammit. He knew I hated when he used his alpha flame to order me around.
“Flaming asshole.” I staggered to my feet, muttering as I rolled my shoulders, “I’m coming. I’m coming. Keep your scales on.”
We were camped near a village of Puritans who believed all things fun to be a sin. What in the seven hells could have riled the beast during his evening soak in the healing waters?
I cracked my jaw on a yawn, dragging my feet down the hallway and out onto the flight deck.
The massive platform jutted from the castle wall, levering out over the mountainside. Free of obstructions, it allowed those with wings clear access to the hidden stronghold. Wind whipped across the stone, hard enough to blow me off the edge, and I uttered a curse.
In the distance, a dark figure sliced through the clouds. Alaric’s massive wings pounded the air, his emerald-kissed scales catching the moonlight. A dragon in flight was a formidable image known to strike terror into the most courageous of hearts.
Only I would notice the way he favored his right wing, letting it dip in front. How his tail drooped. Lines of strain tightened the powerful muscles in his neck, causing them to be even more prominent.
He landed with a thunderous swoop, claws striking hard. Too hard. No finesse. His wings trembled before folding, his chest heaving great breaths as if he was winded by the short flight.
“What’s wrong?” I eyed the way his bulk shifted unevenly. “You collect a new injury while you were wallowing in the mud at the lake?” Goddess forbid he had something else to complain about.
“Here. Take her.”He extended his foreleg.
What tumbled from his claw looked like a drowned pastry—a heap of filthy lace and ruffles that hit the stone with a wet slap.
I recoiled. “I’m not touching that. Could be diseased for all you know.”
“Do it,”he roared, the scales along the sides of his neck rattling.
“Fine. Fine.” I took a knee beside the sodden pile of rags. “What is it?”
He puffed smoke from his nostrils.“You, of all creatures, should recognize a woman when you see one.”
“Really?” I cast a wary glance at the crumpled heap of fabricwhen something caught my eye. A hint of crimson poked through a pile of tattered lace. Curiosity prickled me as I hesitantly reached out, brushing aside a grimy ruffle.
Red curls spilled across high cheekbones, a violent contrast to skin gone ghostly pale. Thick lashes rested atop shadowed bruises, her rosebud mouth a gray slash in a heart-shaped face.
Flark me. I knew that face. And hadnodesire to ever see it again. The wench was an uncivilized brat. Not that I could share this with Alaric since she’d spotted me in my dragon form. Something he’d strictly forbidden.
“Is she dead?” A man could hope.
“She will be if you don’t get moving.”Alaric’s fury heated my exposed skin.
Still, I hesitated. “And we care about one ignorant peasant, why?”
“Just do it.”His smoky breath hit me in the face.
I coughed, waving my hand. “Okay, okay. No need to breathe your foul nerf breath on me.”
Scrunching my nose, I slid my arms beneath the girl and hefted her into my lap. Once I was on my feet, I carried her down the massive hallway and into the dining area.
