Page 82 of Dragon’s Rogue

Zane carried Blaze carefully to the bed and laid her in it. He banished the burned robe and replaced it with the softest, most comfortable cotton pajamas he could conjure.

Then he tucked her in, stroking her hair back from her forehead. He touched the necklace, and it began to sing quietly—a soft lullaby.

Zane looked up at Thorne, his hand still on Blaze’s head. “Where’s that fucking idol?” he growled.

Thorne looked wary. “In the vault, still in the spell cage,” he said. “Don’t fuck with it, Zane. If you wake it up again and piss it off, it could bring the tomb down. And we don’t have the Seals yet.” He looked meaningfully at Blaze.

Zane rose to his feet and stood before his brother. “Swear to me, on your honor as a Draken, that you won’t touch her or the Seal while I’m away from her.”

“Where are you going?”

“Swear!” He could feel his eyes going dragon.

Thorne gazed at him for a long moment, his arms folded across his chest. Finally he looked away and sighed. “I swear.” Zane waited. “On my honor as a Draken.” He looked Zane in the eye again, and Zane saw truth there.

Zane nodded. “Take care of her,” he said.

He strode down the hall and took the elevator to the lower level, rage and guilt warring in his heart. That damned idol—and the fucking wizard inside it—had almost made him hurt Blaze. He’d lost her trust. She didn’t love him, and she’d never want to be his mate now.

And he’d let it happen. He should have realized what was going on. He was supposed to protect her, keep her safe, and he’d let her be infected with evil. Then he’d gone and fanned the flames.

He hated himself. He was unworthy—too wrapped up in himself to protect the people he loved. He’d failed her, just as he’d failed his family.

At least she was still alive, and he’d get a second chance. A chance to protect her, at least.

The sound of his boot heels echoed off the walls as he walked down the stone hallway to the vault. It was where they kept any dangerous magical items they came across—getting them out of the hands of humans and keeping them locked away where they couldn’t do any harm.

He put his palm on a sensor pad in the reinforced stone wall and the door grated open. It was dark inside, lit only by the glow from the spell cage resting on the table in the middle of the floor.

Ignoring the other items on the shelves, he stood in front of the cage and looked down, hatred in his heart.

“You fucked with the wrong dragon’s mate, Corwyn,” he said.

The idol’s eyes were still closed, as if in sleep. He didn’t know if the sorcerer could hear him; he probably couldn’t. But if he could, Zane wanted him to know that hell was going to rain down on him for harming Blaze.

“I’m going to find a way to get you out of that idol, and I’m going to annihilate you and send your spirit to whatever wizard’s hell you belong in. And that’s a fucking promise.”

The idol didn’t respond, simply remained still with its eyes closed.

“And in the meantime, you keep your goddamned claws out of me, my mate, and my brothers. Or I will put you through such pain, you’ll wish you’d died for good a thousand years ago.”

He stared at the idol for another minute, and then he turned on his heel and walked out, slamming the vault door behind him.

Inside the vault, the light around the spell cage dimmed. The idol’s eyes opened, glowing red in the darkness.

Corwyn said, “He is arrogant, Master. He dares to threaten us. He dares to threaten you.”

“He knows nothing,” said Vyrkos’ deep, rumbling voice in return. “He sees what we wish him to see. He is no Draken, just a weak and watered-down mixed-breed, tainted with the blood of humans and bear-shifters. He will help us unwittingly, and in the despair that follows I will bend him to my will. He will die in agony, and his filthy human mate with him.”

The idol’s eyes grew brighter, fixing on the small door in the front of the cage. The light was dimmest there. Underneath the illusion he had cast for the foolish half-breed, the bars of the cage were disintegrating.

“Just a little longer,” Vyrkos said, focusing his power at the cage, chipping away at its defenses. “Then we will have our freedom.”

And our revenge, thought Corwyn. He had even more incentive now to escape. Not only did he finally have a coven at his beck and call—he’d learned something else.

Maia’s spirit was still alive—and now he knew where it was.

Chapter 36