Page 68 of Bad Blood Alpha

“That’s why we brought the grenades,” Sloan said, trying to sound cheerful.

Not to mention the C-4. Bullets didn’t take those things down, but even a Hellhound couldn’t run when its legs were ten feet away from its body.

“Any signs of other dragons?”

“I didn’t see any.”

“But?”

Caitlyn looked unhappy. “If there aren’t any, what are all the sheep for? He’s not running a wool factory here.”

“Hopefully they’re for feeding the hellhounds.” Which wasn’t all that comforting. If they needed that many sheep to feed them, there were definitely more than two.

Caitlyn finished her sketch—everything she’d managed to see on the outside of the castle, as well as through the windows. When she was done, Flynn outlined their plan.

Despite what he’d told the crew, this was the craziest thing he’d ever done—breaking into a sorcerer’s castle on a hostage retrieval with only four people, against an unknown number of hellhounds. If they succeeded, it was going to be fucking epic.

And if it didn’t, they were so, so dead.

They waited until the moon dropped behind the cliff, eating cold food from their packs and not saying much. Sloan and Caitlyn sat side by side, hands resting on each other’s thighs, seeming to draw strength from their closeness.

Flynn longed to reach out for Kira, to feel the warmth of her touch.

And yet he didn’t. He still wasn’t used to the rush of tenderness that shot through him when he watched her, when he touched her. He needed to see her as he’d seen her the first night they met. Tough. Badass. Invincible. And he couldn’t do that if he was snuggling with her.

Fuck. He rose to his feet, pacing. He was a berserker, a crazy-ass lion. He flung himself into battle whenever he had to, and he was never afraid. But he was afraid now.

Before this, he’d never had anything to live for.

Kira came up behind him, a ghost in the dark. “It’s a good plan,” she said.

“It’s a fucking fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants nightmare,” he said flatly.

“There isn’t time to do better,” she reminded him.

“Don’t you think I fucking know that?”

Her eyes narrowed, and he let out a sigh. He brushed his hand over her cheek in apology. “Can you hear them?” he asked. “Their voices.”

“I’m trying not to.”

“But they’re still alive?”

She held out a hand, capturing his eyes with hers. Fuck it all, he was such an asshole. She was fighting off screaming nightmares, maybe fighting off seizures. Strong and beautiful and brave. And he was dithering about his fucking feelings.

He took her hand.

He could hear them now, too. They weren’t screaming so loud. More like whimpering, for the girl. And the dragon was just growling like it had lost its mind.

It probably had. Even if they managed to get it out of there, he didn’t know what the fuck they were going to do with it.

The pain of their misery lanced through Kira into him. He pulled on it, leaned into it, trying to take some of the burden from her. Blue flame rippled across his hand, and Kira relaxed a fraction.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I should have done that before. You shouldn’t have to carry it alone.”

She shook her head. “You need your strength to fight.”

“And you don’t?” She just rested her head on his shoulder, her hand still clasped in his. And this time, having her there did make him feel stronger.