Page 29 of Dark Dragon’s Mate

“Seriously?” Trish said. “You’re having a slap fight now? Men are idiots.”

“Fine,” Emon said. “Then you get down here and convince him he’s bleeding out. I need to get some stuff.”

As Tristan half raised his chest and opened his mouth, Emon added, “And no, I’m not going to tell people what happened. Lie the fuck down and try not to die before I get back.”

Tristan subsided.

Emon left him there while he went downstairs. He started for the magical storeroom—there were some potions in there that would help.

The problem was, they probably wouldn’t heal him fast enough to keep anyone from seeing his injuries.

His steps slowed, and then he changed direction. There was only one way to make sure Tristan would make it, and possibly recover in time to keep this whole disaster a secret.

The Al-Maddeiri healing power. He didn’t have it, but Mayah did. If she was strong enough—and lucid enough—to use it.

She was already awake when he entered her room. She ran to him immediately, running her hands over his arms as if checking for wounds.

“Are you all right?” she said. “I dreamed—I dreamed of blood and pain, and someone dying. And I woke up with this anxious feeling in my stomach, like it was someone I care about.”

“Not me,” he said. “I’m as okay as I ever am. It’s Tristan.”

Someone she cared about. Were they connected because he was her healer? Or was it something more?

That was a wrinkle he didn’t want to contemplate just now.

“What’s wrong with Tristan?” she said. “Can I do anything?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I think you might be the only one who can. I’ll explain on the way.” He hesitated. “But you have to promise not to tell anyone. Especially anyone from Silverlake.”

She frowned, but agreed immediately. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Tell me.”

They left the room, moving quietly through the halls, Emon softly telling Mayah what had happened that night. “This is my domain, and Trish falls under my laws as along as she’s here,” Emon finished. “They both do. But if her pack finds out…”

Mayah nodded. “I understand.” She paused outside the door to Emon’s room and put her hand on his arm, looking up at him with her huge, haunted eyes. “I would never endanger hi—them.”

Emon was about to push the door open when he heard Tristan say:

“We could leave Silverlake, you know. Go away. Work for Carmichael, maybe.”

“As spies and mercenaries?” Trish said. “Even if I wanted to, he’d never take us with unreliable animals. And by ‘us’ I mean ‘me’.” Her voice was bitter.

“Well, the Bad Bloods, then,” Tristan persisted. “Flynn’s told me I always have a place there, and he’s used to problem animals. If we were mated…”

Trish said, “I can’t saddle Flynn with She-Wolf. He has enough on his plate. And anyway, you don’t feel that way about me.”

“I could do worse.”

Trish gave a shaky laugh. “Than someone who just tried to rip your throat out? I don’t see how.”

Emon heard Mayah give a little growl beside him, but he was barely paying attention. He felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart. Mate Tristan? Shackle the Nightmare Wolf to someone who didn’t even have the strength to fight her? Over his dragon’s dead body.

He shoved the door open and went in.

Chapter 15

The door burst open, and Trish jumped. “Before you two run away together,” Emon drawled, “you might want to make sure neither of you are going to keel over from blood loss. To that end, I brought help.”

Oh, god, she thought. What had he done? She-Wolf growled, scrabbling to come out.