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“Well, sorry to disappoint you, dickhead. But I’m not going anywhere. There’s shouting and roars, and who the bloody hell knows what else is happening out there? It’s safer in here.”
Denny wasn’t especially clever—he was valued for his willingness to do anything, without question, even to children—and liked to boast. “Some fucking dragons found us, but they won’t be able to beat us.” He took out a syringe. “Now, get over here, bitch. We need to leave. You can do it the easy way or the hard way.”
She tightened her grip and readied herself to attack. Since she needed space to swing her weapon, she moved her hands behind her back and retreated a few feet. Denny only came closer.
When he was within three feet, she pounced, moving her arms in ways she’d practiced alone, trying to land a blow where she could make him bleed the most—places they’d discussed around her before, to make sure they didn’t cut her there and kill her. Channeling the rage at all the stuff they’d done to her over the years, she swung hard. Denny managed to lean back from the first blow and gripped her wrist. With her other knife, she cut his neck, but not in the right place, as it barely trickled.
Fuck.She tried to move her still-free arm and stab him somewhere, anywhere, to weaken him. However, for all his lack of brains, Denny was bloody strong. He squeezed her first wrist hard enough, it felt as if it might break, and the metal blade clanged against the tile floor.
He must’ve dropped the syringe at some point, because he finally took hold of her other wrist—the one belonging to the hand with the remaining blade—and twisted it away from him, toward her chest. He pushed, and she tried to keep it from stabbing her.
Despite her hellish existence, Percy had always held on to one dream—to be able to shift into her dragon form for the first time and finally feel the wind against her skin or scales or whatever.
To have the ultimate freedom, no matter how brief, and be in control of her life.
But as Denny moved the knife closer and closer to her neck, sweat trailed between her breasts and down her back. He might’ve been given orders not to kill her, but rage burned in his eyes. He might do it just to teach her a lesson.
And she’d never get the chance to be a real dragon-shifter.
For a brief second, she worried about the children. She shouldn’t care—she really shouldn’t—and yet the thought of this fucker getting his hands on them gave her a second wind. She managed to maneuver her thigh between his legs and jerked it upward, until she smashed her knee against his bollocks.
Denny howled and released her. The sudden movement made her drop the knife, and she cursed. There wasn’t time to get it, so she dashed around Denny, heading for the stool on the other side of the island, and picked it up. If she had to smash the arsehole over the head, it might buy her enough time to tie him up—and maybe even kill him.
Denny finally turned toward her, his eyes narrowed. “You’re going to fucking pay for that, you bitch.”
Instead of moving closer, he took something from the utility belt all the guards wore, something she rarely saw, unless they were dealing with a dangerous prisoner. A tranquilizer gun. One shot, and she’d be helpless and unable to do a thing to safeguard the kids until the dragons could rescue them.
She backed up, trying to use the stool to protect herself as much as possible. If she could just reach the picture on the wall, the one she’d been given as a reward for fucking the catatonic dragonman a few months ago, she’d have a shield. And since he had one shot before he had to reload, that might give her enough time to attack.
Percy took one step back and then another. Everything slowed as she tried to reach her last chance at safety. Because if Denny hit her with the dart, she’d be out for hours.
Close enough to the wall, she turned to grab it, dropping the stool in the process. Just as she was about to turn back, pain radiated from her arse.
Fuck.He’d hit her.
She plucked it out, but that wouldn’t make much difference. Her vision already blurred and swam, and the room began to tilt. Her legs wouldn’t hold her, and she fell to the floor.
In the next second, Denny’s rancid breath danced across her face. “I’m going to enjoy teaching you a lesson later, when the doctor issues your punishment. Maybe this time, he’ll let me slice you as I fuck you, you dragon whore.”
The drugs made her weak, and she whimpered—bloody whimpered. Then she murmured, “No.”
Denny’s smile turned smug. “Oh, yes, pet. We’re going to have fun.”
The edges of her vision darkened just as the door burst open. Just as Denny stood and turned, a tall, blond-haired man with flashing dragon eyes rushed over and took him by the throat. He growled, “If you’ve fucking touched them, you’re going to pay.”
As the dragonman—it had to be one, right?—slammed Denny against the wall, Percy tried to speak, but all that came out was a croak.
The dragonman heard it, though, and never taking his eyes off Denny, he said, “Don’t worry. This bastard won’t be bothering you any longer.”
He did something, and Denny slumped to the floor. Before she could ask if her long-term tormentor was dead, the world finally went black.
ChapterTwo
Bronx Wells paced the little meeting area inside one of the cabins used on the outskirts of Clan Stonefire. Sometimes the buildings were used for happy events, such as the dragon camp held between the human and dragon children in the summer. But today, it was going to be a holding cell of sorts, a place to interrogate the mysterious dragonwoman who’d been rescued from a hellish experimentation center. He’d received only the barest minimum of information about her, but it was enough—torture, drug trials, rape, and more.
In the past, he might’ve served as backup to Stonefire’s team of Protectors for the rescue mission. But after losing his lower leg during a fire a while ago, he would be useless on such a job.
The pacing irritated his right leg, the one where he had a prosthetic on the lower half, but he couldn’t bloody well sit still. He was as eager as his clan mates to find out more about the dragon female. She’d helped protect the clan leader’s niece and the human son of Bronx’s brother’s mate, Sarah Carter-Wells.
