Page 67 of Dark Dragon’s Wolf

Inside the complex’s central courtyard, Blaze and Rebel slid from Zane’s back to the ground. Shielded with magic, they headed for the main section of the building, with the power station and the server rooms.

Guards swarmed out of the building, firing on the intruders.

Thorne and Tyr landed, Changing to human and covering the ground troops with magical defenses. The three red dragons flew at the main part of the office complex, bathing it in dragonfire and knocking the walls down with blows of their barbed tails.

Tristan and Trish slid down from Emon’s back. Emon Changed as well, landing in the courtyard.

Tristan didn’t wait for anyone to back him. He ran for the side door, the nearest one to Mayah’s cell, and slapped a breaching charge on the outside. Behind him, he knew Flynn’s team was setting stronger charges along the reinforced cinder block wall, one for every cell.

Tristan ducked back and blew the door, then drew his weapon and headed inside. All the rage he had bottled up inside him was burning him from the inside out, and adrenalin flooded him until he could barely feel his head pounding.

All his focus was on finding Mayah.

He opened his mind, calling for her, but he still heard nothing. Either she was unconscious or drugged. Not dead, he said again, like a prayer.

Most of the guards were outside, fighting the intruders, and Tristan raced past the empty monitoring station towards the cell where Mayah had said she was being held.

But why would they leave such a valuable prisoner unguarded?

And then he knew.

The cell door was open. There was no one in there.

Tristan let out a howl of pure frustration.

Mayah! he called frantically. Nothing.

Only his wide-open senses—and his experience inside Mayah’s mind—allowed him to detect the cloaked dragon’s presence behind him, and duck. A dagger sliced into his combat vest, just missing slitting his throat.

He slammed his elbow back, right where the fucker’s throat should be, and was rewarded with a strangled sound. The dragon appeared—a guy with reddish-brown hair and purple eyes who clearly thought he was smarter and stealthier than he really was.

Tristan hooked his legs out from under him and landed with his knee on the asshole’s already bruised windpipe, his own glowing, magically enhanced knife at the dragon’s jugular. Thank you, Tyr.

“Where is she?” he demanded. “Where’s the dragon you captured yesterday?”

The dragon sneered. “You can’t get to her, shifter. Not in time. Once they breach the central section—”

And then they did. There was an explosion that rocked the building, and the power went dead. And then another explosion, this time of magic. Colored lights flashed in the air outside, reflecting through the slitted windows.

And the dragon underneath Tristan seized up and stopped fighting him.

What the fuck?

Then it hit him. The trap Mayah had warned them about.

It was a massive spell net.

They’d disabled the dragons.

Chapter 32

From her cell, Mayah felt the explosions. She felt the spell net detonate. She heard the other dragons yelling, fighting, unable to break free.

But Mayah didn’t have her dragon. The net didn’t affect her.

And she could still hear the wolves—their song breaking up as their minds scattered in fear.

Wolves.