Page 173 of Change

Brayden raced to the ledge, trying to spot him first, maybe even to check if we should flee before he destroyed another building. Hopefully we’d have time.

I needed time.

I clenched my fist, still trying to calm my racing heart. Torn between the urge to—eventually—stop the dragon’s rampage, or to let him indulge in mindless destruction.

The wounded sound rang through the air again—this time from above us—and the sky darkened ominously as, a second later, the white dragon dove from the sky and crash-landed onto the roof. However, I had no doubt that his lack of finesse was not from having to relearn a forgotten skill, but rather from extreme frenzy.

He’d shifted back into a human within a second, and I’d barely glimpsed Bianca’s small form before he folded over her, shielding her from view as his shoulders heaved in soundless cries.

It felt as though the breath was knocked from me. Hehadher.

Julian was the first to react.

“Bianca!” He rushed forward, arms outreached, but he didn’t even touch her before Titus struck out, blindly swinging his arm as he let out a low, terrifying growl.

“Stay back!” he snarled, and my arms broke out in goose bumps at the tone of his voice.

But Julian wasn’t perturbed, panic was overriding all else. “Titus,move. Maybe I can do something!” He tried to pull on the dragon’s shoulders, but he wouldn’t move, and the necromancer’s pleading fell on deaf ears.

I studied Julian—his reaction was different than I expected. This urgency to get to Bianca wasn’t from a need to grieve.

My thoughts flashed through our earlier discussions. We clearly didn’t know everything about each other, but maybe, just maybe, there was something he could do.

Maybe it wasn’t too late.

Then revenge would wait until later, because no matter what the outcome, there was no doubt that whoever had done this would still pay.

Miles had joined Julian, trying to urge the dragon to release Bianca’s body, but he was having as much luck as the necromancer. And Bryce and Brayden were staying wisely out of it—a fae, even two of their stature, were no match for the dragon, especially when in this state.

There were only two of us here who were.

I caught Finn’s eye and inclined my head toward Titus. He didn’t hesitate, though his shoulders tensed readily, and he gave a short nod.

But there wasn’t time to waste, if Julian’s hurried pleas were anything to believe.

I pushed past the necromancer and witch, grabbing Titus’s shoulder and pretending that his snarls didn’t affect me at all. I couldn’t even dare sneak a peek at Bianca right now. It was taking every ounce of my concentration to wrangle the dragon away from our girl and back far enough to where he wasn’t trying to claw at Julian. Bianca, in the meantime, had been taken by the necromancer the second Titus’s grip slipped.

He roared in my ears, fingers reaching and arms swinging as he raged in his grief. Sweat dampened my forehead as it took every ounce of my strength—and my brother’s beside me—to keep Titus pinned down against the ground.

Soon it wouldn’t be enough.

“I can’t hold him anymore.” Finn grunted as the dragon clawed at his arms, but despite the painful-looking scratches, he didn’t let him go.

I was beginning to agree. The back of my shirt stuck to me as I leaned forward, pressed my forearm against the dragon’s neck. Despite the exertion of trying to keep him down—even with Finn’s help—there was the added factor that every one of the dragon’s whimpering cries broke through my defenses just a little bit more.

Bianca. He was her mate; he’d be able to sense it.

She really was dead, because if there was any hope, shouldn’t he sense her?

Suddenly Miles was there, slapping at my hands as he tried to push me away. But it was Titus he was addressing with his hurried words, “She’s alive.” He pressed his palm against the dragon’s heaving chest. “Titus, it’s okay, she’s still alive.”

Everything stilled—my breath, Titus’s movements, and seemingly, the world, as I dropped my arm and moved to my knees, staring at the necromancer.

She was alive. Miles had just said so.

Then why didn’t it look like that at all?

Julian was sitting with his feet folded under his thighs, and held Bianca curled into his lap in what appeared to be a deep sleep.