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So sexual tension vibrated in his marrow, even now. So his muscles remained hard as rocks. So he craved the perfidious beauty responsible for his capture. So what.
With a brutal yank, he removed the spear from his chest at last. The spearhead ejected shrapnel on its way out. Blood gushed as the wound knit back together, sealing that shrapnel inside him. A process slower than usual. His reservoir of energy had yet to replenish.
He attempted to flash. To shift forms. Both failures. Rathbone pursed his lips. No reason to wonder over the lack; Neeka had warned him. The shards. They floated through his bloodstream, damaging everything they encountered.
He’d have to escape the old-fashioned way.
Reclined in a corner, Rathbone scanned his cell. A seven-by-seven prison with walls made from a solid black substance he’d never encountered. There were no windows, bars, or doors. A fleet of small metal bugs lined the ceiling, their round bellies glowing, providing the only source of light.
Anytime he stood, those bugs descended to flay his flesh from his bones in a matter of seconds. Not that he cared. He’d learned to overlook physical pain long ago. But he stayed put, expecting a visitor at any moment. An interrogator who would demand answers. Why had he come? What did he plan? Had he brought others with him? He preferred to start the way he intended to finish: intact.
A disturbance in the air alerted him to an incoming presence. He didn’t bother shifting into a better position before a dragon shifter materialized on the other side of the chamber, Neeka’s backpack dangling from his shoulder.
Rathbone sized up his visitor in a snap. A leader with centuries of brutal battles under his belt. An elder, judging by the number and size of azure markings embedded in his skin. Powerful, with an affinity for more than the creation of fire.
“I am Kanta. There’s no reason to introduce yourself. Neeka updated me.”
She did, did she?Rathbone bit his tongue, tasting blood. “You in charge or are you merely a lackey?”
“Today, I am the decider of your destiny.” Kanta tossed the pack to the floor, out of Rathbone’s immediate reach. A heavy thunk sounded as the zipper gaped open. “Why do you carry a bag filled with pink rocks?”
Rocks were the “essentials?”You’ve got to be kidding me.He glanced over. Sure enough, a pile of fist-size, pink rocks weighed down the material.
His fury burned a thousand degrees hotter.
“Nothing to say?” Kanta asked.
Tone as casual as he could manage, he said, “I’m quirky like that.”
A light flared in the shifter’s eyes, there and gone. At the same time, Rathbone’s feet caught fire, disintegrating in the blue flames. Anguishing pain wracked him, but not by word or deed did he reveal it.
He flashed his teeth, displaying an amused smile as his feet regrew gradually. “No way you’re in charge of this realm while the Astra play whipped househusbands in Harpina. I’ve gotten hotter watching Golden Girls.”
The dragon’s nostrils flared. Rathbone expected a thorough head to toe roasting. With impressive restraint, his visitor controlled his temper, seconds ticking by without the start of another inferno.
Kanta rolled his shoulders and popped his neck. “You push me on purpose, and I am unsure why. But I will find out.” He withdrew a thin, half-moon blade from a hidden sheath on the side of his leathers. “A cut from this weapon cannot heal.”
Rathbone arched a brow. “Are you waiting for an engraved invitation? Start.”
Whoosh. The blade sliced through his jugular and returned to the dragon. Blood spurted from the wound, spraying over the floor, the pack, and even the walls. Though his flesh didn’t knit together as swiftly as usual, it did knit together, earning a confused frown from the other male.
Another toss. Another slice. More spurting blood. Yet again, Rathbone healed. He flashed his teeth with another smile. “Clearly you’ve never fought a King of the Underworld.”
“You have tricks. This is good to know. I do as well.” Kanta withdrew something resembling an ice pick from a second pocket. “This little gem—” He went quiet as the room rumbled.
High-pitched squeaks rang out as the pack shook. A second later, a handful of blood-splattered rocks erupted from the opening.
His jaw dropped. Not rocks, after all. Small, round creatures with beady eyes, sharp teeth, and sharper claws. Half glommed onto Kanta, ripping through his torso, and there was nothing the dragon could do to stop them. The other half went after the metal bugs.
In a matter of minutes, the warrior lay motionless on the floor and the bugs were no more. Darkness filled the cell. Not that it mattered. Rathbone possessed excellent night vision.
He leaped to brand-new feet, prepared to fight. The creatures jumped on him and—they were kissing him? Rathbone froze. What was even happening right now?
“Good beasties,” he crooned, uncertain what else to do. “Daddy is ready to leave this room. Help him?”
Trilling with excitement, they slinked off and focused on the walls, clawing and chewing through the stone. As the hole grew larger, the beasties shrank, leaving layers of dust in their wake. Would they disappear altogether?
A worthy sacrifice.
