Page 5 of Dark Dragon’s Mate

Right.

“Let me take your bag,” Grange was saying politely. “I’ll show you to your room.”

“I can carry it,” Trish said. She’d just carried it up the hill from the portal. It seemed stupid not to carry it the rest of the way.

Grange gave an apologetic half-smile. “Will it help if I tell you it’s part of my job? Guests aren’t supposed to carry their own luggage.”

With a small sigh, Trish handed it over.

“Thank you,” he said, his eyes crinkling with humor. “You just saved me from being thrown in the dungeon for dereliction of duty.”

“There’s not really a dungeon here, is there?” Trish asked. Please, let there be a dungeon. Because that would be so cool.

“Oh, yeah,” Grange said. “If you’re good, I’ll take you to see it sometime.”

“Now there’s something to look forward to,” Trish said. He grinned.

Grange led her out of the entranceway—annnnnd, they were back in the gothic novel again. They’d stepped into a Great Hall straight out of some medieval castle on Earth. Enormous, with tall arched windows and a vaulted ceiling, and staircases winding up both side walls. There was a huge fireplace, unlit, and the room was chilly and bleak and cheerless.

Perfect.

Except for Grange, who was as friendly-looking as a puppy, and had a kind of golden glow like the sun was constantly shining on him. Not to mention how dorky he looked with her bag over his shoulder, the size of a child’s purse compared to his huge bulk.

Definitely not fitting in with the gothic vibe. She gave a little laugh.

“What?” Grange asked, running his hand over his wild hair and looking concerned. “I’m a mess, right? Or do I have a piece of broccoli stuck in my fangs?”

Trish shook her head. “Sorry,” she said. “You’re just… not what I expected.”

“What were you expecting?” he asked, sounding curious rather than offended. He started for one of the staircases, and she fell into step with him.

“Oh, you know. A hatchet-faced housekeeper, muttering curses under her breath. Or a timid maid who hints at dark goings-on in the dead of night.”

“Ah,” he said. “How about a ghost complete with rattling chains, or an enigmatic butler—tightlipped and disapproving?” He grinned at her look of surprise. “I saw your books when the maid unpacked your stuff. My mom reads them too. Sadly, I’m just an ordinary lion shifter. The best I can do is mutter dark warnings about evil ghosts.”

“That would be awesome,” Trish said. “It would be even better if there are some. Please tell me there are.”

He snorted. “If there aren’t, there should be. This place was made for them.” As they climbed the stairs, he added, “I still feel bad there was no one to meet you. You really shouldn’t have been out there alone.”

He was right—she shouldn’t. She-Wolf had almost taken over, which would have been a disaster. Ironically, if it hadn’t been for the dragon and her fascination with it, she probably would have.

But he didn’t know about that. Couldn’t be allowed to know about that. “I’m a wolf,” she said lightly. “I can handle a half-mile walk and a little weather.”

“It’s not that.” He stopped, lowering his voice. “It’s the Darkwing Dragon,” he said quietly. “He goes a little crazy when it storms.” He turned and started up the stairs, but she heard him mutter, “Crazier than usual.”

Awesome. “He’s not… dangerous, is he?”

Okay, that was stupid. He breathed lightning and he was halfway insane, not to mention pissed-off all the time. Of course he was dangerous. She qualified. “Like, eating people dangerous?”

She expected Grange to laugh, but he just shrugged again. Double awesomeness.

“All Draken are dangerous,” he said, “and the House of Al-Maddeiri were always the most dangerous. And these two—the prince and princess—well, you know what happened to them. That’s why you’re here.”

Chapter 4

Everybody in the Silverlake wolf pack knew what had happened to the prince and princess of the House of Al-Maddeiri.

Captured as children and raised by an evil wizard after their clan was wiped out, only to be used as lab rats in his experiments. Emon had been his guinea pig for some kind of toxin that would specifically affect Draken—which were powerful, magical, and almost impossible to kill.