Page 26 of Dark Dragon’s Mate

He went up onto the roof and leaned on the parapet, looking out into the night. He could feel her out there, a dark star, her light dimmed.

It shouldn’t be like that. The darkness shouldn’t be allowed to eclipse the light.

She shouldn’t be stuck with a crazy wolf.

his dragon said.

That startled him. Why?

That made no sense. They were the same being. How could one cage the other?

I need to find her, Emon said.

I don’t care. She’s in trouble. Tristan can’t help her.

his dragon agreed.

Emon snorted at that. Tristan did look kind of like an elf. Slender, blond, handsome, almost otherworldly.

his dragon said carelessly, as if it didn’t matter to him one way or the other.

Far away, through the darkness, he heard the mournful howl of a wolf.

Calling.

Knowing he was probably going to regret it, Emon climbed up on the parapet and jumped off into the darkness.

Chapter 13

Emon’s dragon was right. It didn’t take long for them to find her, even after she stopped howling. It was like there was a golden thread spinning through the night, linking them together.

He could feel where she was—near the edge of the forest. He tried to sense Trish’s mind, but once again, he just got that jumbled sense of blood and rage and triumph and freedom.

She was still She-Wolf, and she didn’t want him there.

But he was pulled toward her anyway.

He’d just reached the spot when he heard the snarling below him. Two wolves. Snarls and deadly growls, and the thud of bodies that told him there was a fight going on.

He dove down, a deathly shadow descending out of the night. He landed in time to see a midnight-black wolf ripping into Tristan’s white wolf, her jaws at his throat. Emon could smell the blood, see the dark stain soaking his fur.

The Nightmare Wolf was trying to kill Tristan. Her friend—her protector.

Emon let out a roar that shook the forest. Stop! he demanded, putting all his power into the mental command.

Both wolves froze.

Back off! Change back!

He blasted the Nightmare Wolf’s mind, just short of actual Compulsion. His alpha dragon dominance rolled out over her and into the forest. Everything went quiet.

Nightmare Wolf let go of Tristan’s neck and edged backwards, every muscle resisting his command, her lip lifted in a snarl. With a huge effort, she rose to all four paws, tail high in defiance.

She was beautiful. Black as night, like his dragon, with only a tiny white patch under her chin. Regal. Magnificent. Pissed off as hell.