Her hand went to her neck. “Yes.”
“Let me see.”
She fumbled it carefully out from beneath the furred hood of her jacket. Julian took off his glove to touch it.
And snapped the chain.
She jerked back instinctively. “You—”
The scale disappeared into his hand.
*I’m sorry,*he whispered, his voice feather-light in the air and in her mind.
“No—”
She lunged forward and slammed into solid rock.
“No!” she yelled again. “Come back here! You bastard!”
There was no reply. She staggered back, staring without seeing.
Trapped. He hadn’t been talking about trapping their attackers in the entrance hall, with no way in or out. He’d been talking about trappingher.
Safely outside.
She screamed with rage.
And behind her, something screeched back.
40
Julian
She was safe.
Which left one thing left for him to do.
He was sure Eloise’s forces had attacked the oceanward entrance, not the mountain gate. He could sense them in the vibrations that rocked the fortress as they set more explosives to open the way. Why whisper magic to open a door when you could blow it up?
And he could sense them in the magic. In the enchantment that filled this place and was slowly fading away.
Of course he was only now beginning to shape out the way his magic felt in this place, as it was dying all around him.
The fortress’s magic was so much duller than the explosion of power he felt from the baby dragon who was following him. He’d reached out to her as he took Francine outside and felt her lock on to his position.
They would be here soon.
Francine would be safe.
He closed his eyes briefly, calling to mind Francine’s ice-bright eyes. The way they’d softened, the longer they knew each other, and how much more dangerous that softness was than her sharpness.
His heart tugged. Silver gleamed at the corner of his vision. He thrust it away mercilessly. Neither of them could afford the mate bond.
Because a bonded mate hurt more than an unbonded one when their fated lover died.
Head raised, shoulders back, he marched towards the prison.
41
