She'd trusted the wrong person. And she was going to die for it.
15
Something was wrong.
Zane stood at the suite's window, watching the morning light play across the resort's pristine grounds. Mercy had been gone for over an hour. Long enough for a simple conversation about bounties and security protocols. Long enough for his dragon to start pacing restlessly beneath his skin.
He told himself he was being paranoid. She'd said Myles was an old friend, someone she trusted. And he’d known Judd long enough to know he was a competent man. She'd asked for space to handle things herself, and he needed to respect that. Crowding his mate would only send her running back to the independent life she'd built for herself.
But every instinct he possessed screamed that something was off.
The rational part of his mind provided perfectly logical explanations. Myles could have been called away on resort business. Mercy might have gotten distracted by the technical specs of some new ship in the hangar. She could be catching up with her friend over coffee, sharing stories about their freight-running days.
His dragon didn't care about logic. His dragon was certain his mate was in danger.
His dragon needed to get a grip.
Zane ran both hands through his hair, trying to settle the restless energy building under his skin. Already, smoke was pouring off of him, making the room smell like a campfire.
He was new to this whole mating thing. Maybe protective paranoia was normal. Maybe every dragon lord spent the first few weeks after finding their mate jumping at shadows and imagining threats that didn't exist.
But Mercy's scent was fading from the suite, and his skin itched with the need to find her. To confirm she was safe with his own eyes.
Ten more minutes. He'd give her ten more minutes, then he'd go looking. He could apologize for intruding on her privacy later. Somehow. Maybe with a nice bottle of wine and a massage.
He’d told her she had two hours. What was a few dozen minutes difference?
The minutes crawled by like hours. Outside, resort staff moved through their morning routines. Guests lounged by pools that sparkled like jewels in the desert sun. Everything looked perfectly normal.
So why did the hair on the back of his neck refuse to settle?
Eight minutes left.
He paced the suite's main room. The space felt too large without Mercy's presence, too empty despite the luxury furnishings. Her clothes from yesterday lay draped over a chair where she'd left them, and he caught himself breathing in the faint trace of her scent that clung to the fabric.
Pathetic. He was acting like a lovesick teenager instead of a grown dragon lord with generations of breeding behind him.
Five minutes.
The comm unit on the side table chimed softly. Zane lunged for it, hoping for a message from Mercy explaining the delay. Instead, he found a routine notification about meal service and entertainment schedules. Nothing useful.
His reflection in the darkened screen showed wild hair and eyes that flickered with barely contained fire. He looked like exactly what he was. A dragon whose mate was out of sight and potentially in danger.
Three minutes.
To hell with it.
Zane grabbed a shirt and headed for the door. Mercy could scold him for being overprotective later, preferably while she was safe in his arms. Right now, he needed to see her. Needed to confirm his instincts were wrong and she was perfectly fine.
The resort was easy enough to navigate. He'd visited Saffron Court often enough over the years to know the layout. Myles Judd's office was tucked away in the administrative wing, a modest space that reflected the man's practical nature.
The door stood slightly ajar when Zane reached it. No voices carried from within. No sound at all, actually, which seemed wrong for a meeting between old friends.
"Mercy?" He pushed the door open wider, stepping into the empty office.
She wasn't there.
Zane's gaze swept the small space, cataloging details. An overturned chair. Papers scattered across the floor. Scuff marks on the carpet that could have been from a struggle.
