Page 84 of The Dragons’ Eternal Mate

There was no one around, no one to help me, and if I didn’t do something, Cyrus was going to kill me.

The syringe full of dark gray liquid was in my bag. I’d made it one evening when I was feeling particularly vulnerable. It had everything I needed to knock a dragon out.

More than that.

Truthfully, I had known it then, and I knew it now. What I’d made was… poison.

“No, no. You’re not getting away this time.” Cyrus flung himself toward me, not caring about the injury to his leg or anything else, for that matter. “This time, you die.”

Without giving it a second thought, I fisted the syringe and pulled it out of the bag. Cyrus was on top of me a moment later, and I struggled to wriggle out from under him. But he grabbed my shirt, hoisting me an inch or two off the ground. His furious, unhinged stare found mine, hatred in his eyes like nothing I’d ever seen.

I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to walk around knowing I’d turned my knowledge of healing against someone. But I couldn’t die. I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t let this old, wicked man kill me. All Cyrus wanted was power, and he’d killed to get it. He was evil, and there was nothing that would change his mind, change the venom that pulsed in his veins, desperate to rid me from this earth.

Rage replaced fear, determination replaced doubt, and I planted my foot on Cyrus’s hip while he hovered over me, giving myself leverage. I put my thumb on the end of the syringe, glaring up at the face of evil, at the man who’d killed my mate’s father, who’d tried to kill me, who’d nearly killed Ma, and who treated his son like he was a puppet, the rest of the horde mere pawns beneath his rule.

I was done being the victim. No more.

Yanking my arm around Cyrus’s shoulder, I aimed right for his neck, feeling the needle pierce his skin, and then I pressed the plunger down like my life depended on it.

Bastian

When it came to Rowan, I was never far away.

Before she and Craig had sped off, I was already in the kitchen. I’d seen her hopping into his Jeep. Something didn’t sit right with me, my nerves immediately prickling. Tense as hell, I turned away from the window and asked Ma and Nina, who stood there with Rowan’s large medical bag from her room. What the hell was going on? He’d rushed in because of an emergency.

Craig.

If it had been anyone else whisking my mate away for a medical emergency, I would have understood it, but not Craig. He was one of the few older dragons who was still adamant my father had his reasons. Reasons that somehow justified murder—of his own brother, no less.

He was very quickly going to learn that I now had my own, and he was going to be on the receiving fucking end of it when I was finished with Cyrus.

My heart smashed against my rib cage as I sprinted to the nearest vehicle, knowing the keys would be inside, tucked behind the visor. I grabbed the key, fired up the engine, and took off like a bat out of hell. Rowan needed me. I could feel it in my bones.

No part of me trusted Craig to have good intentions, and I was almost mad at Rowan for going with him as I sped down the road, getting closer and closer to the clearing I knew was coming up on my right. I couldn’t truly be upset with her, though.

Craig had known what to do to get her to come with him, no questions asked.

She was a healer, after all.

There was no sign of Craig’s car when I pulled over at the side of the road. I hadn’t seen any vehicles pass me, so I had to assume he’d taken off, farther away from the horde lands. Fucker. He was a goddamn coward, and I’d make sure every horde from here to Canada knew he was a traitor.

After leaping out of the car, I ran with everything I had and then burst into the clearing, semi-shifted, rage fueling every breath and step. My claws were extended, and I was fairly sure there were scales on my face, the rasp of fangs against my tongue. Shifting like this was rare, but the idea of Rowan being in danger made it impossible to control my beast. And I didn’t try to.

“Rowan!” I shouted her name so loudly the trees around me vibrated, my call echoing for miles.

I didn’t hear a response, panic flooding me, acid in my veins. But as I shot forward, tearing through the tall grass, I heard it: heavy breathing and… pained groans. But it was too deep to be Rowan’s voice, and a moment later, I found them both.

What the fuck?

Rowan’s stare set directly on Cyrus, my fucking father, who convulsed on the ground, white foam breaching his lips as he twitched and groaned. I had been two minutes behind her at most.

“Rowan!”

She was standing a few feet away from my father, who lay there, her gaze wild and glassy.

My heart broke when her tear-streaked face met mine. She was white as a sheet, eyes wide with panic as the tears fell rapidly. I looked between her and Cyrus, still so thrown by the fact that my father had gotten his dirty fucking hands on her. Craig had led her to my father… and he had to know Cyrus would kill her.

They were both living on borrowed time now.