Chapter 47
They walked back down to the room where they’d tried to cast the spell. Tempest was sitting on the floor, talking to Thorne.
Who was still a dragon.
Thorne? Zane said. Are you okay? Why aren’t you Changing back?
Because Vyrkos told me to be a Draken, Thorne said testily. Thus, I am a Draken. It seems that all I can be is a Draken, at least until the force of his command wears off. If, in fact, it does.
Zane found himself sinking to the floor next to Tempest. This could be a disaster. If Thorne were stuck in dragon form, his Draken side would eventually take over—and not in a good way. Not to mention they needed him human—able to work his computer magic and talk to his contacts and help them find the other two Seals.
Rebel asked him, “Why could the others change back, and you can’t?”
Thorne didn’t answer her.
“Because we’re all hybrids, but Thorne has by far the most pure Draken blood,” Tyr explained. “It seems that, because of that, the Draken Lord has more power over him than us.”
“Oh. That sucks.”
That about summed it up, Zane thought. “I suppose you’ve already tried the kiss thing?”
Apparently that was a one-time deal.
Zane could hear the strain in Thorne’s mental voice. He was holding his anger on a tight leash, but it wasn’t easy for him.
He patted Thorne’s shoulder. “We’ll figure something out.”
I’m delighted to hear it, Thorne snapped. Let me know how that works out.
Instead of going upstairs, they all ended up going to the Batcave instead. They couldn’t fit Thorne inside without moving the equipment, but he was able to lie in the atrium and put his head inside the door, resting it on the floor near the conference table.
While they waited for the zefirs to bring food, Tyr checked the monitors, while Zane sat with Blaze, holding her hand, and Rebel and Tempest wandered around looking awed.
“Tomb integrity is up 33%,” Tyr said. “Thank the Powers.”
Everyone sat down around the table, and Blaze and Zane told their story, interrupted only by the arrival of floating trays of food by the zefirs, which freaked Rebel out and delighted Tempest.
Zane told most of it, trying to spare Blaze, who was still exhausted and very, very quiet. At the end, the rest of them were quiet too—all except Tempest, who’d begun writing in her notebook somewhere in the middle of the telling. All they could hear now was her pen scratching on the page.
“So what now?” Rebel asked.
“We have to find the other Seals.” Surprisingly, it was Tempest who spoke.
“How? We don’t have tattoos, like Blaze did.”
“But they’re somewhere, and we’re the ones who have to find them. We have to finish the story, or Corwyn will win and Vyrkos will rise.”
“Corwyn’s gone,” Zane said. “Maia pulled him out of the idol, and his spirit just… dissipated.” He picked up the idol, which Blaze had left on the table. “He’s definitely not in there now.”
Tyr examined the idol, and agreed. “We need to keep this in the vault, though. It’s still the key to the tomb—it was vital to its creation. I’ll have to see if I can find any reference to the original protections the Guardians placed on it.”
Zane gladly let him take it. He never wanted to see the thing again.
We have to determine where the other Seals are, Thorne said. We can’t get complacent.
Apparently Blaze could hear him. “Can we just be complacent for, like, a day?” she asked, sounding unutterably tired. “Or two, even? We’ve bought ourselves some time, and I for one am going to use it to sleep. And restore my power.”
That was Zane’s cue. “I’m taking my mate to my rooms. If you find the Seals in the next forty-eight hours, send a text.”
They said goodnight to the others, Zane putting his hand on Thorne’s dragon-shoulder for a moment before ushering Blaze out of the room. She leaned against him in the elevator, and didn’t even protest when he swept her up in his arms and carried her down the hall to his bedroom.
He put her on the bed and conjured pajamas for her, but when he tried to tuck her in she pulled him down beside her. “I need you here,” she murmured. “I need you near me.”
He vanished his torn, bloodstained clothes and climbed into bed beside her, taking her in his arms. It was daylight by this time, but the velvet drapes were closed against the morning sun, and the room was dim and quiet, Zane’s gold humming softly.
He gathered her close to him, head on his chest, running his fingers gently through her hair. She gave a shuddering sigh and relaxed against him.
After a long time, she said softly, “Why did you do it?”
He wasn’t sure what the question was, but the answer would always be, because I love you. “Do what?” he asked.
“Why did you stop me from finishing the spell?”
He said simply, “I had to. It would have destroyed you.”
“Maybe I deserved it. I used the worst dark magic to defeat my enemies. How can I say I’m any better than Silas, or Corwyn, or Vyrkos?”
He shook his head, his arms tightening around her. “Don’t say that. You’re not like them. You didn’t do it for power, or revenge. You were willing to sacrifice your soul, to spend an eternity in hell to save other people. Tyr and Thorne, Rebel and Tempest, all the people in this city. Me.” He kissed the top of her head gently. “And I’d give anything to keep you from having to pay that price.”
He had. He’d offered his life in place of hers. His soul. His love. His everything.
And at long last, after ten years of loneliness, there was someone she could trust with all of herself, everything she was, everything she’d done, everything she’d become.
She shifted, lifting her head to find his lips, drinking in his love and devotion, letting it heal her soul. They made love slowly, as if they had years and centuries, a thousand forevers, letting the waves of passion grow and crash over them.
They joined together, hot and sweet, stroking each other in a long slow build that filled Blaze completely, body and heart and mind, so that Zane’s love touched every part of her and changed it utterly, transforming her into someone new, someone stronger and better, braver and more loving.
The waves reached their crescendo, and all the walls inside of Blaze finally broke down and went up in flames—the healing flames of a dragon’s heart.
They both cried out their love, holding each other as if they’d never let go, their souls soaring and dancing to the music of dragon’s gold.
* * *
Vyrkos’ tomb lay quiet and still. The dragons and humans no longer watched, all gone to rest and lick their wounds.
Slowly, slowly, dark smoke began to swirl near the roof of the cavern. It gathered into a dark cloud, then coalesced into the form of a man and floated gently down to where the body of Silas Turner lay, and seeped inside.
The body on the floor opened its eyes, and they glowed demon-red. It sat up, then climbed to its feet. Moving stiffly and clumsily, it walked to the tunnel at the side of the tomb, and disappeared into the darkness, the sound of its footsteps echoing back to the empty cavern.
Thanks for reading Dragon’s Rogue! I hope you love my Wild Dragons like I do.
Want to know what happens with Thorne and Rebel?
Watch for Book 2 of the Wild Dragons series, coming in July!
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Want more hot wild shifters? Try my other books:
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Fugitive Mate
White Wolf Mate
Tiger Mate
Silverlake Enforcers:
The Enforcers: KANE
The Enforcers: ISRAEL
The Enforcers: NOAH
Bad Blood Shifters:
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