Page 43

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

TATE

I’m walking back toward the center of Platoria when I spot a familiar shadow hurrying around a corner. I don’t linger on the thought of how truly fucked I am if I know her movements so well that I recognize her in such bad lighting.

Ara.

Does she never sleep? Or stay where she’s supposed to, for that matter?

She will be pissed if I follow her.

But she doesn’t know this city, and I remember how easily I pinned her to the wall in that alley in Telos. I curse under my breath before going after her.

Every thought of leaving her alone flies out the window when I follow her into the seediest area Platoria has to offer.

Doesn’t she have any concept of self-preservation?

I lessen the distance between us. Staying hidden isn’t my focus anymore because I see the gazes she draws. Anger burns through me—at her for risking herself and at the human predators assessing her from the shadows. If they so much as move for her, they are dead.

In all the time I follow her, she doesn’t look behind her once.

What the fuck is wrong with this woman?

She ducks through a doorway, and I swear as I recognize the sign above the door. The Dark Horse is notorious for crooked bargains, betting, and illegal fighting. What the hell is she doing here, of all places?

I look down at myself. I’m wearing my uniform, so there is no way I can go in there looking like this and not draw attention. I slip into the shadows of an entryway, watching the door across the street while I contemplate what to do next.

She’s made it pretty clear what she thought of being told what to do, but I can’t just leave her here. The door opens and closes. Others go in and come out, but Ara doesn’t.

She’s a good fighter and probably has a lot of blades hidden under her dress, but … I need to know she is all right. I sigh.

I will take one look, and then I’ll go.

That plan goes up in flames as soon as I step into the room and see her. See them.

There is a man—no, a dragon—crowding Ara against the wall, much like I did earlier. He’s talking to her. She shakes her head and says something back that makes him laugh.

My knee-jerk reaction is to go over there and rip off the hand currently playing with her hair.

“ Cool down. That is a fucking dragon,” Daeva pipes in, clearly alerted by my turmoil. “I’m coming your way.”

“ No. Stay,” I tell her. “I’m keeping my cool, I promise.”

I have no claim on her , I remind myself.

But a dragon? Is she serious? Not that there is anything wrong with dragons—if you have a death wish.

I let my gaze roam over the other guests. They are all taking great care not to look in the direction of Ara and her fiery friend. They won’t lift a finger, even if he decides to sample her right here and now.

Shit, I probably should leave, but my eyes find their way back to Ara. Like they always do.

Is he scenting her? What. The. Actual. Fuck.

She jerks back, and her head hits the wall behind her. She doesn’t look scared and isn’t fighting him off either, but her pulling back is enough to have me reassess what I see.

Her smile looks brittle and jagged, missing all the teasing and fire I’m used to seeing by now.

Holy mists, I don’t know what game she’s playing here, but she doesn’t look like she enjoys having his hands on her. That’s all it needs to have the beast inside me screaming for blood.

His blood.

When he trails a finger down the soft skin of her neck, I see red and start moving.

I wind around tables, people muttering in my wake when I shove past them, but my eyes never leave Ara’s face.

She squeezes her eyes shut, bracing for something. His hand resting above her collarbone ripples. Scales form, replacing skin, and sharp talons appear, reflecting the light.

My daggers whisper against the leather of their sheaths when I draw one on each side. The dragon is focused on Ara now, not even looking up, showing no interest in the commotion I cause.

One black talon slices her skin, drawing blood.

Hell, no.

I throw both daggers, which come to a quivering halt on the wall next to his shoulders. That maneuver draws more than just the dragon’s attention.

Chairs scrape over the floor. People jump out of my way while my steps eat up the room, bringing me closer to her.

My throw did what I intended. His attention is on me now. There is no mistaking him for human anymore. Scales replaced his skin entirely, and his face twists into a feral snarl.

The way he positions himself leaves no question about him considering Ara his for the moment, and I’m not okay with that. She is… not his.

I palm another dagger. Even with people getting out of my way, there isn’t enough room for a sword in here.They move around me, careful not to come between us and hurry to the door, overturning chairs and tables in their haste. Smart.

I have no illusions. He will be spitting fire any minute now.

My gaze searches for Ara, meeting her wide eyes. The slip in attention nearly costs me. Her eyes widen a fraction more, and instinct prompts me to drop to the floor before heat cooks the air above me.

Well, shit. This is getting ugly fast.

I crouch, waiting for the blast to stop, and then propel myself across the room, seizing Ara and pulling her with me behind the next overturned table, throwing up a shield of air between us and the piece of furniture.

Not a second later, another heat blast reduces the table to little more than cinders while we scramble to get away from it.

“What are you doing here?” Ara sounds breathless.

“How about we talk later?” I ask.

Continuous crackling dominates the room. The old wooden tables and chairs doused in wax, grease, and alcohol over the years burn better than kindling.

“Get over here.” It’s a snarl, nothing human in it—a predator commanding his prey.

Ara takes a step like she’s about to obey him.

“Hell, no.” I grab her, shoving her behind me. “Keep down and get to the door. And if I tell you to run, you run. Okay?” I turn to her when she doesn’t answer, and it earns me four deep gouges across my shoulder. The dragon is upon us.

I whip around and use the gathered momentum to punch him in return. Thank the mists the nose is a sensitive organ, no matter the species. He stumbles back, and I waste no time. I grab Ara’s hand, holding it like a lifeline, and race out the door.

We run down the street. Turning right at the next corner, we nearly collide with a drunken sod coming the other way. He curses when I shove him out of the way and keep going.

“That is not the way back to the base.” Ara’s voice sounds remarkably calm, and I’m glad about the daily training at the academy. Dragons are fast, and they have wicked good noses. So I have no hope of him not following us in a minute.

Maybe we’ll be lucky, and the blood running down his nose interferes with his sense of smell, but dragons heal fast too.

“We are not going back. We need to get to the water.” Water is one of the only things that can stop him from roasting us alive.

I snatched Ara from him and hurt him in the process. No matter how even-tempered he normally might be, now he’s an animal out for blood, and he will shred us without a second thought if he reaches us.

There is a reason there are so few half-breed dragons; accidental deaths in a lovers’ quarrel are unfortunately common. Other species are just too breakable.

This leads me back to the problem at hand.

“A dragon, really?” I ask and steal a look at Ara, who is running next to me. Fortunately, I know the way. The streets are dark down here, and there are many dead ends. One wrong turn and we are fucked. “Is sneaking out not enough of a kick anymore?”

She huffs in indignation. “That is not what it’s about.”

“Then do tell. Enlighten me because I can’t see any reason you would associate with a dragon otherwise.”

“Maybe I thought he was pretty?”

“Pretty?” I gawk at her before snapping my gaze back to where we are going. “Pretty lethal, you mean.” I curse. We nearly missed our next turn. My shoulder protests when I skid and slam into a wooden wall. I turn slightly and catch Ara when she slams into my chest, making me grunt.

The whole building shakes, and someone starts shouting. We pick up speed again, but a roar behind us tells me the dragon found us.

“Run,” I order.

We leap into a sprint, much too fast for these dark streets with uneven ground. I can already smell the sea, so we are getting closer.

I stumble but catch myself, and I grab Ara’s hand to keep her upright when she does as well.

The last houses are behind us now, the pavement giving way to a smooth dirt road with the occasional weed and grass dotting it.

Our steps become more certain, our breaths getting choppy while we press our bodies for all the speed we have left.

I keep her hand in mine, making sure she doesn’t slow down. She tries to tug her hand free, but I don’t let her. I have a plan but can’t risk her hesitating.

About a hundred steps in front of us, the world ends with only sky and waves beyond that.

I can hear the dragon’s steps behind us, gaining ground.

It’s good that he followed us on foot instead of turning fully and taking off for the sky.

Otherwise, we would be roasted by now. There is nowhere to hide out here, leaving us completely in the open.

That leaves us exactly one way out, and we’re getting closer. Unfortunately, so is the dragon.