"It'll be all right, sweet. The goddess will provide," Nevair promised.
Lian's terrified expression didn't ease. "They're going to set me on fire, Nevair!" he screamed.
The fear in his mate's eyes cut Nevair to the core. "You have to believe." Nevair put his hands on either side of Lian's face. "Trust me."
He could feel Lian's throat move as he swallowed back his words. Closing his eyes as if to block out Nevair's face he pulled out of Nevair's grasp and allowed the police to lead him away.
Nevair dropped to his knees and prayed as he'd never prayed before that he'd made the right decision.
Chapter Eight
They're going to set me on fire!
The thought kept running around and around in Lian's head as he paced his prison. Sure, they called it protection, and the room screamed luxury, but he knew a jail cell when he saw one. When he first started out, he used to heal low security prisoners on planet Cal'aan when they got into fights.
Sweat oozed from his body through every pore as he walked back and forth, covering every square inch of the last place he'd ever see. He'd never thought his life would end here. Finally finding his mate only to lose him to death. Nevair would die, too, since Lian's back proved they were truly bonded.
He wondered if Tres planned it that way, to push Nevair into death as some sort of cosmic payback for his obvious hatred of dragonkin. He wondered if Tres's parents really died in an accident or whether he'd somehow arranged their unexpected death. Lian's mind spun like a wheel whirling around different alternatives.
A knock on his door snapped him out of his panicked daze.
"Come in," he shouted. Surely anyone would be an improvement over his self-induced terror.
Lian's boss marched into the room followed by two guards. They must've thought Lian's slight build could overtake the six foot two man with bulging muscles.
Idiots!
"Good thing you brought backup or I'd have to take you down," Lian smirked.
Joe nodded, his lips twitching. "You've really done it this time haven't you, son."
Lian raised an eyebrow. "You know I'm only ten years younger than you, right?"
"But so much younger in other ways," Joe mocked.
"Be nice to me, I'm dying tomorrow." Lian threw himself onto the bed and put his arm over his eyes to block out the other people in the room.
"You don't think their goddess will save you?" Joe asked, his tone curious.
"I don't think it's one of those situations where there's a win. If I burn to death in the flames and Nevair dies then they'll say he never should've been the Pontifex. If I survive they'll probably say I'm possessed or something and kill me, thereby killing Nevair. It's a setup." Lian saw no easy way to get out of this.
"Actually, if you survive they'll say you're blessed by the goddess," an unfamiliar voice spoke up.
Lian lifted his arm. He glanced between guards because he didn't know which one spoke. "Really?"
The guard on the left nodded. "It's a sacred rite. They used to always perform the ceremony."
"How many survived?" Lian asked.
The guards exchanged looks. "Um… none."
Joe faced the guards. "And how many of them were already bonded with the Pontifex?"
They paled.
"That's what I thought," Joe snapped.
The silence hung thickly in the air like a heavy fog.
