Page 62

SIXTY-TWO

D ragons prided themselves on discipline. Years of meditation and control techniques should’ve prevented such distractions during critical missions. Yet thoughts of amber eyes and sarcastic smiles infiltrated his concentration with embarrassing frequency.

The change in himself both alarmed and fascinated him. His dragon nature—once content with solitary power—now craved her presence with unsettling intensity. The territorial instincts that typically extended to land and treasure now encompassed a living, breathing being capable of making her own choices. The complexity of these emotions would require extensive meditation after this crisis passed.

Assuming they survived the night.

Xai slipped the most recent journal into his jacket and continued his search, moving deeper into the manor. The foundation stones grew older here, predating modern Enchanted Falls. He descended a spiral staircase, temperature dropping with each step despite the heat radiating from his body.

The staircase wound downward in a tight spiral, each step worn in the center from centuries of use. The stone here held age-memory—impressions of those who had walked this path before. Xai’s heightened senses detected fragments of emotion embedded in the mineral structure itself: fear, determination, occasional triumph. The Gravemont family had not been known for sentimentality or mercy.

On the landing between floors, voices drifted upward. He halted, pressing against the wall as two of Severin’s enforcers conversed below.

“The squad should have reached the spa by now,” a gruff voice declared, satisfaction evident in the tone. “Parker won’t know which way to turn with her business burning down and her dragon under attack.”

“Seems excessive,” another replied, boredom tinged with skepticism. “The boss already has what he needs from her.”

“It’s not about need,” the first growled. “It’s about making sure she understands who’s in charge around here. After tonight, the entire town will answer to the Madrigal pride.”

The conversation continued, detailing their plans for the spa: targeting the foundation where the magical nexus point resided, four enforcers with specialized equipment designed to breach magical barriers and detailed knowledge of the spa’s layout, including staff schedules and security measures.

Severin had been watching them for weeks.

Smoke curled from Xai’s nostrils as rage threatened to overwhelm strategy. His temperature spiked so violently that the wooden banister beneath his grip began to char. With considerable effort, he released it, forcing his breathing to steady. One... two... three... the meditation techniques helped, but barely. The anger remained, a molten core pulsing with each heartbeat.

The casual threat toward Zina sparked something primal in him—a possessiveness that centuries of rigid self-control couldn’t suppress. His dragon instincts categorized threats against her as more serious than those against himself. When had that change occurred? When had her safety become paramount?

The voices faded as the enforcers moved away, allowing Xai to consider his options. Continue downward toward where Luciana must be held, or warn Zina about the trap at the spa?

He closed his eyes, concentrating on the scale connection. Her heartbeat remained elevated but steady—she moved with determination, not panic or fear. The subtle emotional impressions filtering through their bond suggested she’d already encountered trouble but handled it with typical lioness grace.

A brief flash of memory—Zina facing down a belligerent wolf shifter who’d refused to pay his spa bill. She hadn’t raised her voice or resorted to physical intimidation. Instead, she’d calmly listed the services rendered, her expectations of payment, and the consequences of failing to meet those expectations. The wolf had left not only with the bill paid but with a grudging respect for the lioness who refused to be cowed.

A smile touched Xai’s lips, surprising him with its genuine warmth. Pride swelled in his chest, unfamiliar yet undeniable. A month ago, he might have abandoned his mission to rush to her aid, underestimating her capabilities. Now he recognized her as an equal partner rather than someone needing his protection. The evolution in his perspective felt significant—a dragon acknowledging another’s strength without diminishing his own.

Xai continued his descent. The air grew colder, heavy with damp mineral scents and something older—ritual magic woven into the very foundations of the building. The final turn of the staircase opened into a vast chamber carved directly into bedrock beneath the manor.

Massive columns supported a ceiling lost in shadows despite his enhanced vision. Ancient symbols carved into the floor formed concentric circles, each layer representing a different protective barrier. Silver manacles glowed with ancient magic, secured to a stone altar at the room’s center. Luciana Madrigal stood bound within them, her posture straight despite her captivity, dark hair falling in perfect waves around shoulders bared by her evening dress.

The chamber reeked of ritualistic preparations—crushed Gravemont berries, panther musk, and black salt formed intricate patterns across the floor. Blood moon energy seeped through cracks in the vaulted ceiling, collecting in crimson pools that neither spread nor evaporated. The entire room pulsed with barely contained power like a heart preparing to beat.

“I wondered who would arrive first—you or the lioness,” Luciana said, her voice steady despite her circumstances.

Xai approached cautiously, scanning for hidden threats. Enchantments layered the chamber—some ancient, some freshly cast. Tripwires of magic crisscrossed between columns. Pressure plates beneath certain floor tiles would trigger gods-knew-what if activated. Whoever had prepared this space anticipated resistance and planned accordingly.

“Your brother’s preparations are extensive,” he observed, choosing a path through the magical minefield with dragon-sharp precision.

“Five generations of planning.” Her eyes tracked him with keen intelligence. “Though I must say, I expected the dragon elder to arrive with more... dramatic flair. Or at least with that fierce little spa owner you’ve become so attached to.”

Heat flashed beneath his skin, scales momentarily shimmering along his wrists before he suppressed the reaction. Luciana noticed, her lips curving into a knowing smile.

“The mighty dragon elder shows his cards,” she murmured. “How interesting.”

“You seem remarkably calm for someone about to be sacrificed in a blood ritual,” Xai observed, circling the altar to examine her bindings. The manacles bore runes he recognized from ancient texts—Gravemont family magic mixed with something darker, older.

“Who says I’m the sacrifice?” She tugged at her chains, directing his attention to specific runes carved into the metal. “These are Gravemont family bindings. My brother doesn’t realize I have more Gravemont blood than he does—Mother’s secret. She hoped I would balance his ambition.”

Xai examined the manacles with greater interest. Certain symbols didn’t match the others—additions or alterations that changed their fundamental purpose. “You’ve been working against him.”

“For years.” Her gaze followed his movements with a cat’s precision. “Passing information to appropriate authorities, countering his worst impulses whenever possible.” Her expression softened unexpectedly. “I assume that’s why you’re here instead of enjoying your new mate-bond? The timing seems particularly inconsiderate of my brother.”

Xai paused, surprise evident before he could mask it. “It’s that obvious?”

Luciana laughed softly. “To anyone with eyes, Elder Emberwylde. You practically radiate possession. The temperature rises whenever she’s mentioned. Your eyes track to the exits as if calculating how quickly you could reach her if needed.” Her smile turned gentle. “It’s quite refreshing to see a dragon so... affected.”

Heat crept up his neck that had nothing to do with dragon fire. Had his feelings for Zina transformed him so thoroughly that even strangers could read the change? The thought both troubled and thrilled him. Dragons prided themselves on inscrutability. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to regret the transparency of his emotions where Zina was concerned.

“Your brother has misunderstood several fundamental aspects of the Founding Pyre,” Xai deflected, focusing on the manacles. The lock mechanism appeared complex—magical and physical components intertwined to create a hybrid security system. Breaking it would require precision rather than brute force.

“He specializes in selective comprehension.” Luciana held perfectly still as he examined her bindings. “He plans to rewrite the Pyre’s protection, make himself sole guardian. The blood moon amplifies transformation magic?—”

The obsidian doors exploded inward with catastrophic force, ancient stone shattering into deadly projectiles. The sound hit like a physical blow—the crack and boom of magically enhanced explosives followed by the shriek of stone fragments slicing through air.