AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The resulting pain that had flooded him in those moments had almost driven him mad.
Sorin had never fully recovered. Once the wrenching agony of the death tremors had faded, he’d been left numb. Numb and bleak and hopeless. He’d never expected to feel anything beyond that numbness ever again.
But there was a burning inside him now. A burning illusive thing that might just be...hope.
As an unknown magic made the very earth beneath him tremor, he climbed from the bed and walked to the large, eastern facing window. He’d carved out of the cave’s wall over a period of years. His home, built deep into the stony terrain of the Ozarks, had a view to the outside, one that was protected by several large pieces of colored glass and iron fused together to form a rose of deepest blood red, the thorns long and deadly sharp.
Panels opened up to allow him to come and go at will and dragon magic surrounded his entire home, covering it with a subtle protection that was both more and less complicated than glamour. Pushing at the panel that opened onto a small deck, he stepped outside into the night.
It had been daylight when he’d laid down for rest—still morning, he’d thought. But it had been over a week since he’d taken the rest he needed to recharge himself while spending so much time in his mortal form.
This ... ‘blending in’ bit he did to keep his region quiet was a pain in the ass. He’d learned that terminology from one of the humans who worked a dinner show in the nearby town, a teeming city even now when small skirmishes between human and non-humans were becoming almost commonplace.
Heidi, the human he learned much of the human slang from, was a college student, studying to be a nurse. She talked about the coming war with something akin to excitement and he had to fight not to tell her that her innocent enthusiasm and big heart and her desire to stand for others would get her killed.
Those tangled thoughts slid through his mind, then away as he fought to pin down just what had pulled him from his slumber.
Then he caught it—a whisper of magic that grew to a scream.
And the echo of it...
“No,” he told himself. “You’re going mad.”
That had to be it—so many times, he’d thought he sensed an echo of her out there. So often, only to be proven wrong, time and again.
He accepted that, now.
But still, he flung himself from the deck, magic rippling over him as his body shifted into his true form—the powerful golden dragon.
Human eyes might see him tonight.
But he’d deal with that later.
For despite what he thought he’d sensed in the air, he’d caught the taste of something else.
Death.
Cold, cunning, greedy death, spreading across the night like a silent specter.
SHE HADN’T EXPECTEDto find the boy here.
Pity mixed with anger as they moved through the night, Gia keenly aware they were running out of time. With her shade’s assistance, she’d cast a veil of sleep over the compound where she’d tracked her quarry, leaving him behind—alive—because she wouldn’t risk harm coming to Amy’s son.
Her son. Some bit of pity had woken in Gia when she realized what the monsters had done, stolen the child away and used him against the woman.
Gia’s shade had discovered him only moments after she’d found evidence that Amy had been the one selling out Preternaturals and PTN sympathizers.
That she’d done it under duress, out of fear for her son’s life, only slightly eased Gia’s anger.
Feeling a watchful gaze, she looked down and found the child sneaking furtive glances at her. She gave him a reassuring smile. “Are you tired? I can carry you for a while.”
“I’m alright for now,” he said, his voice young but with a strangely wise cadence that made her wonder how much of his father he had in him.
She sensed a growing strength in the boy, but like with most children who had Fae blood, it lay mostly dormant and still, likely would for years yet. In a way, that protected him. But it also left him vulnerable. He was small for his age, even if he was sturdy and strong.
Behind her, Amy panted, moving along with the shade holding her wrist in an unbreakable hold. The shadow’s pace was unfaltering and until Gia had taken the lead, it had been relentless.
When Amy tripped, the shade kept going unless Gia told her to wait.
