Page 21

SEVENTEEN

DRAX

Being able to feel Mac through the bond while I lie in bed without him is worse torture than anything I could ever have dreamed up.

He’s sleeping. Over the last few days, I’ve grown more in-tune with each different sensation and tug at our bond, and this one is familiar.

I stroke a mental finger along the tether of our bond and get a longing shiver in response before he lapses back into the peaceful, quiet rhythm of sleep.

I’m glad he’s comfortable and safe enough to slumber.

As far as I can tell, Rune hasn’t done him any harm, aside from keeping him prisoner.

That’s good news for Rune. If there’s a single hair on Mac’s head out of place, even one scale on his body, I’ll tear the mage limb from limb.

I don’t care who his family are or how powerful his magic is, if my mate is harmed in any way, I will make Rune suffer.

All the pent-up frustration from days of feeling helpless pulses in my gut, and I sit up with a growl in my throat.

How can I lie here in bed without my mate?

I need him like fire needs oxygen—a necessity for my survival.

I rub my chest and force down the urge to howl at the indignity of not having Mac here with me, then I throw back my covers and get out of bed.

I haven’t slept for days, and I don’t want to until Mac is in my bed next to me.

The halls are oppressively silent, making every click of my claws against the floors echo as I pace.

We have a trade to offer Rune, but what we haven’t worked out yet is how to get to the mage to even make the offer.

It’s not like we have his phone number to give him a quick call.

Roman suggested “sliding into his DMs,” but I’m fairly sure he was joking since he laughed himself to tears when I asked which part of Rune was his DMs.

I round the corner and catch the flicker of candlelight coming from the library. Is someone else awake? I slink down the hallway and peek into the library. Atlas’s massive shoulders are hunched as he leans over the table, clearly absorbed in whatever he’s reading.

“Are you going to lurk in the shadows like a creep or come in and sit down?” he asks with a quiet chuckle, not even looking up from his reading.

In response, I slink from the shadows and plop myself down in the chair across from him.

I see the book he has spread open on the table in front of him and flinch.

I check his hands and other parts of him immediately, but it appears I was right.

As powerful as Rune is, the curse he put on his book doesn’t affect gargoyles.

“What was so important he protected it with a curse?” I ask, nodding at the book.

In the candlelight, I see Atlas’s expression twist into a shy smile momentarily before he flips the book closed.

“Nothing really.” He clears his throat, making me think he’s not telling me the full truth as he averts his gaze and shifts in his seat. “It’s just a journal.”

“A journal?”

Atlas nods. “Random musings, plans for some of the thefts he’s pulled off. Some, er… I guess I would call it erotic fanfiction.” He clears his throat again and I could almost swear he’s blushing. I didn’t even know gargoyles could blush.

“Erotic what ?” I huff, my frustration rising again.

“It’s like sexy short stories?—”

“So, nothing that will help us get to Mac?” My fingers curl with the urge to reach across the table and tear the stupid, useless book to shreds with my bare hands.

As if he can sense my thoughts, Atlas pulls it off the table and into his lap protectively.

“No, but I think I might have an idea.”

I perk up. “Yes? Tell me.”

“I was thinking about what Roman said about sliding into his DMs.”

“He never told me which part of Rune are his DMs. Is this similar to a possession? I haven’t done one before, but I would be willing to try.”

Atlas chokes on a laugh and shakes his head.

“No, I just mean it got me thinking about how to send a message to a mage. I found a simple spell in the archives that should be non-threatening enough to slip under the door, so to speak, of his magic. The problem is, we need a magic user to perform it. Know any witches, mages, or sorcerers who might be willing to help?”

“Alenor?” I suggest.

Atlas scowls, then shakes his head. “Nah, his ex is a bad idea.”

“Why?”

He sits up a little straighter in his chair, avoiding eye contact again and drumming his fingers on the wood table while he seems to gather his thoughts to answer.

“Because… you know… exes. He probably has him blocked… or, you know, whatever the magical version of that is. It has to be someone else.”

“How about a dragon mage?” Cassius appears from the shadows unexpectedly, wearing a jewel toned dressing gown and carrying a glass of blood.

“Xanthis?” I grunt. “The last time I asked her for help she breathed fire on me until I left.”

Cas swirls the blood in his glass and grins. “She’s softened since the wedding. The witch she’s married to, Dahlia, is supposed to be powerful as well. We could ask her if Xanthis tries to bite our heads off.”

“We’re going to visit Xanthis?” Roman joins the conversation, wandering into the library wearing a pair of briefs with cartoonish paw prints all over them, his hair messy, like he’s been sleeping.

A lecherous grin stretches across his face, and he reaches down to adjust himself shamelessly.

“I haven’t seen her in years. Count me in. ”

Atlas snorts and shakes his head. “Don’t tell me you fucked her?”

Roman grins even wider and waggles his eyebrows. “She fucked me with a strap.”

“You might want to roll your dick back up, wolfy. She’s married now and her wife is a motorcycle riding badass who will probably keep your cock in a box as a trophy if she catches you sniffing around,” Cassius says.

Roman winces, covering his dick with his hands protectively.

“Stop with the horny bullshit already. My mate needs me.” I growl and push my chair back from the table. “Enough distractions. Let’s go ask Xanthis if she’ll slide into Rune’s DMs.”

Roman sputters a laugh that he chokes back when I advance on him with another growl. Atlas’s firm grip lands on my arm, pulling me back.

“We’re taking this seriously. We want Mac back too, but waking Xanthis and Dahlia up in the middle of the night probably isn’t our best bet to get them to help. So why don’t we just chill, and first thing in the morning we’ll pop over to ask for their help.”

I let out a huff of frustration.

“Fine,” I grumble before marching out of the library so I can continue my nighttime pacing in peace.

MAC

The slither of Drax’s hot, wet tongue carves a path from my chest to my belly button, making my cock spasm with need and a moan tighten in my throat.

“Drax,” I gasp, wrapping my hands around his sturdy horns and bucking my hips to grind my cock against his warm skin.

“Yes, mate?” he purrs, dipping his tongue into my belly button and drawing another moan from me.

“I need you,” I whine, everything inside of me aching for more . More of Drax’s hands on me, more of his sweet words of devotion, more, more, more.

The sound of a door creaking open jolts me, and the too-real dream evaporates around me.

I bolt upright in bed, scrambling to pull the blankets up to cover my erection.

By the twist of a smirk on Rune’s lips, I’m guessing he knows exactly what kind of dream I was having.

My chest is still heaving as I try to drag in slower breaths and shake off the heated images. Can Drax feel how badly I miss him?

Trapped here in Rune’s illusionary dungeon, it’s hard to even remember why I was fighting our mate bond so hard before.

However stupid I was for putting on his ring, the bond feels real.

That has to count for something, doesn’t it?

I absently rub the smooth metal of the band with my thumb and eye the mage as he crosses the room with a tray of food.

“What time is it?” I ask, yawning and rubbing my eyes.

With nothing to do here but stare out of the fake windows and watch the fake ocean waves, I’ve been sleeping a lot.

I guess it doesn’t really matter whether this is breakfast or dinner he’s bringing me, but there’s something grounding about having an idea what time of day it is.

“It’s morning,” he says cheerfully, setting the tray down and then sitting down on the end of the bed.

This morning he’s brought croissants and an array of fresh fruit, and instead of just leaving the food, he grabs a strawberry off of the tray and nibbles on it while watching me with a curious look in his eyes.

“What?” I ask around a mouthful of croissant.

“I was wondering… Dragons usually have strong family bonds. Why is it that a ragtag group consisting of a demon, a wolf shifter, and a vampire were the ones trying to get through my defenses instead of a bunch of dragons?”

I swallow hard, almost choking on the wet glob of half-chewed pastry. Shit. I can’t tell him I’m a mercenary. That’s as good as telling him that Auri is the one who needs the amulet.

“I told you, this isn’t my first kidnapping.” I smile wryly. “After a while, it’s just too fucking embarrassing to keep asking my brothers to come save my ass.”

Understanding fills Rune’s eyes, and I almost feel bad for the half-truth.

“Family issues I get.” He grabs another piece of fruit off of the tray. “I was disowned by mine.” The way he says it almost sounds like it’s a point of pride for him. “So I killed them.”

I choke on my next bite of food. That was not what I was expecting him to say.

“Except for my sister,” he says, as if it’s the most reasonable thing in the world. “What’s the point of life without a little sibling rivalry to spice things up every so often?” He winks, and I’m not sure how to respond to that other than an awkward chuckle.

Rune pops a couple of grapes into his mouth, then stands up.

“It occurred to me this morning that you probably want to shower, so you—” He stops mid sentence and his eyes glaze over.

Is he having some kind of stroke? Did Drax figure out some way to possess him? I wave my hand in front of his face, but his blank expression doesn’t so much as twitch.

“Rune?” I snap my fingers in front of his eyes, and still nothing. “Rune?”

Just as quickly as he went blank, he blinks and refocuses.

“Fuuuuck, I hate that shit,” he groans, closing his eyes and pressing his fingers to his eyelids. “Gives me the worst fucking headache.”

“What? What happened?”

“Message from your mate. He wants to meet. He says he wants to make me a deal I won’t be able to refuse. Does he think he’s the demon Godfather or something?” He keeps rubbing the heels of his hands against his eyelids.

I chuckle, a warm feeling spreading through me. “He probably doesn’t even realize the pop culture reference he made.” If I had to guess, Roman added that little joke to the message, but I’m not about to tell Rune that either. If Drax wants him to think he’s coming alone, all the better.

“Well, shit, I guess I’m curious to know what he thinks I would trade for a dragon.” Rune sighs. “I suppose I’ll have to magic you up a leash and we’ll go find out.”