Twenty
Dreads
As Dreads left her alone, Tirah felt a twinge of regret at her comment about his home. She didn’t know how, but she sensed something was very wrong with him. He just kidnapped you, why do you even care?
She sighed. He had kidnapped her, though he could have just as easily killed her, or let the other guy do so. Yet for some reason, she got the impression he didn’t want that. Cass—that was what Dreads had called him—would have tortured and killed her in an instant, she’d felt it deep inside.
From what she’d gleaned, his mate had been the one killed in the witch circle. So really, she could hardly blame the guy for wanting revenge.
Tirah reached out and touched one of the shiny pink crystals in the wall, and her heart thrilled at the magic that soaked into her. Suddenly she was no longer cold, but instead comfortably warm. Keeping an eye behind her in case Dreads returned, Tirah made her way through the short corridor back to the waterfall. Slowly, she reached out and stuck her hand in it, expecting the swiftly moving water to sting. It didn’t. In fact, nothing happened.
With a frown, she grabbed her pack and moved closer. Could Dreads have just been saying it was warded, thinking she couldn’t get through? Once again, she stuck her hand out. When she didn’t feel anything, she inched closer to the cascading wall. A faint tingle warned her not to try it.
Tirah stopped and concentrated. She could feel the magic. It didn’t irritate her like most magic did. Instead if felt somewhat familiar. She was sure she could make it through to the other side, but Tirah wasn’t ready to test her theory.
She went back into the larger cavern, and thought about the male holding her captive. Then she went to the kitchen area, dropped her pack to the floor, and eyed her dagger. Wasn’t he concerned she’d try to use it? Maybe he was waiting for her to attempt something, so he’d have a reason to kill her. Yet that was stupid. Dreads already had a reason.
Tirah growled at herself. Don’t assume anything. Her captor was a Thorn son, and they were the most dangerous dragon shifters around, known for their brutality toward the Ilyium. Even if it was a test, it didn’t matter.
Tirah ran her hand over the granite countertops and then snatched up the blade. Holding it at her side, she checked out the appliances. The only time she’d seen the like was during a brief stint on Yara. The place had been too advanced, making it hard to earn cash without credentials.
How did Dreads power his lair? She glanced toward the entrance. Of course, besides having magic, her sexy dragon captor did have a huge-ass waterfall that could generate power. Well, if one knew how to go about doing that. Though she wouldn’t have been surprised if Dreads did. He seemed very intelligent after all.
Though there had been something in his eyes when she decked him outside of Vermillion. Something not quite right. She had known he was behind her, but to find him so close had been a shock.
Her reaction had been purely instinct when she punched him. Though after he landed on the ground, all she could do was stare. Her racing heart missed a beat at the intense, dark-blue eyes staring back at her. An inferno of heat sizzled through her, akin to what she’d felt that day so long ago in the witch circle.
It had been stupid to hit a dragon shifter, never mind a Thorn brother. But what should she have done?
Tirah wanted to groan at how disappointed she’d been that he didn’t immediately follow her when she took off. I must be out of my mind.
Tirah looked at her dagger and frowned. Maybe Dreads really didn’t see her as a threat. Tirah knew she didn’t look like much, and he didn’t know that she’d gone through the rigorous training of all elite Ilyium soldiers. Or that she’d come out on top.
Tirah eyed the large upright food cooler, then glanced at the corridor her kidnapper had disappeared through. What is Dreads doing? She shrugged. He did tell her to help herself to food and drink. Opening the double doors, she studied the contents and snorted. Typical male.
Tirah set her dagger on the counter, grabbed the cheese wheel, a large chunk of meat covered in cheesecloth, and then closed the door. The only other item in the cooler was ale, and that didn’t interest her.
Setting everything beside her dagger, Tirah peeled back the skin on the cheese wheel and growled. Only a tiny slice was left. Then she unwrapped the meat. The bone was massive, yet the amount of edible meat was almost nothing.
With a sigh, Tirah walked over and opened the dry-goods pantry. A moment later she closed the door. She quickly located a drinking jar and plate. She poured some water into the jar from the tap and drank it down, then guzzled another full jar before refilling it. With her dagger, she cut the rest of the cheese off the wheel and shaved the remaining meat off the bone.
While she nibbled, trying to make the cheese and meat last, she kept glancing in the direction her captor had disappeared. What was he doing? Happy to be away from his domineering presence, she found herself also a little disappointed for some reason. With an annoyed snarl, she picked up her plate, water, and pack, then walked over to the living area.
Recessed shelves built into the rock wall held swords, knives, a very ancient book that was bound in leather, some beautiful goblets, a decanter, and bottles of various shapes and sizes.
The fireplace appeared to be natural, with a couple logs waiting to be used.
Tirah admired the large plush couch in bright red that formed a horseshoe. Opposite were two smaller love seats in the same color. They all had huge black-and-grey pillows strewn here and there, some even on the floor, and they looked incredibly comfortable.
Tirah chose the horseshoe couch and sat down with a sigh. She’d been going for days, through one portal to another, trying to get back to Tartaria and find out what happened to her brother. She glanced at the plate on her lap and realized just how sore and tired she was. After she finished the tiny bit of meat and cheese, she reached over and pulled her pack close, then dug through it, searching for the food she’d bought earlier.
With a huff, Tirah set her pack aside. Though she knew better, part of her hoped she’d stashed her food in her pack. Obviously, she hadn’t. Which meant that when the other dragon shifter grabbed her, he’d knocked it from her hands. On the verge of tears, Tirah went over everything that had happened.
She should have stayed far away from Tartaria.
Yet she needed to find out what happened to her brother.
Weary, she laid her head back, and in seconds sleep took her.
Tirah awoke, heart pounding until she realized she was still alone, then wondered how long she’d been asleep.
She leaned back again and squinted, trying to see through the small window above her. She ached to see the stars, but even with her keen eyesight it was too far up and the glass too thick. Setting the plate on the end table beside the couch, she rose to her feet. Then realizing she’d left the dagger on the counter, she retrieved it.
Why had Dreads just left her here? Wasn’t he worried about what she might do? Tirah took in the room. What could she really do? Deciding to check out the rest of the place, she cautiously made her way into the corridor where her captor had disappeared. As she walked, little lights came on, illuminating the way. Tirah rounded the corner and entered the first cavern she came to. She grinned with relief. It was a bathing room. There was a huge shower, a large tub, a toilet, and a sink.
After using the facilities, Tirah continued her search, growing even more curious. The next cave was a smaller office. She could almost imagine seeing her mysteriously sexy captor sitting behind the large mahogany desk. As she moved down the corridor, and into each room, lights came on and reflected off the sparkling walls. A few of the rooms were empty, making her wonder what they were for. Then she came to the library and stopped. Completely stunned, she stared. This was the last thing she’d expected to find.
After making sure the chamber was empty, Tirah walked in and checked out all the books. They’d obviously been collected from different worlds. Some were very old, though all appeared to have been well read. Surprised they weren’t just for display, she wondered how old Dreads was.
Tirah left the library and passed additional empty chambers. The whole place, while exquisite, felt unbearably lonely. Tirah reached the last two doors, one on each side of the corridor, and frowned. In front of her was a smooth, dark wall that didn’t mesh with the rest of the place. Tirah contemplated it. Suddenly the glittering wall wavered. Tirah blinked and focused on a single jewel. The whole thing solidified. What the—? She reached out to touch, when a shiver of dread repelled her. She snatched her hand back. Strange.
With a frown, she turned to the chamber on her left. A faint tingle of magic slid over her. It felt similar to the ward at the waterfall, though not nearly as strong. Tirah stuck her hand out, prepared to be shocked or repelled, but other than a soothing balm, it didn’t do anything. Slowly, she eased through and around the corner. Tirah pulled up sharply when she realized she was in the master bedroom. Two doors led to other rooms. Likely a closet and a bathing room, she thought, and noticed two more sky windows high above her. Then the sound of breathing drew her to the massive bed where her captor lay sound asleep.
Tirah studied him, liking all the wild, kinky-twisted hair. She even liked his neatly trimmed beard that still showed off his firm jaw. And his lips … They would make a female very happy. His chest rose and fell. When he didn’t wake, she inched a little closer. His eyes were closed, and she almost wished they weren’t. Then she wanted to slap herself. What in all the worlds is wrong with me? He wants to kill me. Yet the memory of the intensity in his eyes sent heat slithering throughout her whole body.
She glanced at the dagger in her hand. Do it, the voice inside her commanded.