But anyone else looking at him now would not see the mad-eyed dragon tearing a building apart from the rescue mission footage. And if there were any other leaked photographs from Julian’s time on the island, they might not recognize him anyway. That man had been healthy.
Julian wasn’t.
His eyes were sunken, his skin too pale, his cheeks hollow. Healing his dragon was eating him up from the inside.
Voyaging with Eloise would be hell, but at least it would be an intermission from their desperate flight. They would know where their enemy was.
And Julian could focus on healing.
*Very well,*she sniffed, and sighed heavily. “You’d better not have brought up one of your fixer-uppers for us to travel in,” she told Eloise.
“Don’t worry. I think you’ll beverysatisfied.”
Eloise whisked them away to a private marina. As they stood over the water waiting for transport to the mega yacht on the horizon, Francine’s heart soared and sank at the same time.
No need to worry about luxury.
The ship they were taking to Antarctica was hers.
TheQueen of the Pridesat on the water like a lioness lounging in the sun: sleek, regal, and unquestionably powerful. Exactly as Francine had designed it.
TheQueenwas the first and only ship she had ever worked on. The vainest of vanity projects—a luxury superyacht for shifters, each suite designed with a certain animal in mind.
A shiver crawled down her neck.
Seeing theQueenhere was like creeping into a room and finding herself already there.
And it was taking Eloise and her co-conspirators to Antarctica, to enslave the last of the dragons.
9
Julian
Everything about the ship was luxurious. The sort of luxury that took an army to maintain. As Eloise showed them to their suite, Julian wondered who staffed the cruise liner.
“Here we are!” Eloise squealed, throwing the doors open and doing a twirl.
“It’s like stepping back in time.” Francine followed her, and the slight hesitation in her step put all Julian’s senses into high alert.
“Iknewyou would like it.”
The room was all soft golds and ivory. Sleek cushioned sofas somehow gave the impression of a bed of dried grasses; the dining area offered a view out onto the ocean, so you could sit with a stone wall at your back and the open world before you. The bedrooms and bathroom were hidden behind closed doors. And here was a partial answer to his question about staff: two women and one man were waiting for them in the suite, professionally blending into the furniture.
They didn’t smell terrified.
Maybe they didn’t know what they were in for.
He took it all in with a glance, his attention focused on Francine.
Francine overcame her hesitation and sank into one of the sofas. “Who did you throw out to fit me in here?”
“Don’t worry about that.” Eloise waved a hand airily. “Gustav, would you…? Gustav and the girls will look after you while you’re here. Anything you need, they better know it before you even have to ask. Unless you have your own people you want to bring in?”
“No. Julian’s all I need.”
He shouldn’t have looked at her. Their eyes met, and something colder than ice and hotter than the midday sun burned between them.
Her eyes widened. *Shit.*What was she…?
