Page 78 of Valor’s Flight (The New Protectorate #5)

Chapter Fifty-Two

It went against every instinct he possessed to allow Sergei into his roost or anywhere near his mate, so after the initial uproar over his arrival died down, he was promptly moved to the Wing barracks.

Situated at the base of Taveas’s tower, it was still far too close for his liking, but it would have to do for now.

“We caught him trying to cross the border,” Theodore explained, his arms crossed over his chest and his glare locked on the filthy dragon slumped over the table in the makeshift interrogation room.

They stood shoulder to shoulder looking in through the small square window in the door.

“Patrol didn’t know who they had until your people put out the alert this morning. They almost let him go.”

The muscles of Taevas’s jaw worked as he ground his teeth. “Has he said anything?”

“No,” Theodore replied.

“Did a mind healer check him?”

“Yup. No sign of any tampering.” Theodore sniffed. “You know this prick?”

“Not before this, no,” he answered, “but he’s one of Jaak’s sons.”

“Ah. That explains it, I guess.”

Taevas made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat.

He wasn’t so sure. The things Sergei said hadn’t made any sense.

Revenge for his father’s death seemed the most logical reason for all of this, but he’d been adamant that Jaak’s death wasn’t the reason behind his kidnapping.

Of course, there was always the chance that he was lying, but something in Taevas’s gut made him question that easy answer.

Theodore turned slightly. Giving Taevas a long look, he asked, “What’s going on with your wings?”

A spasm of feeling wracked his chest.

He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to remember how Healer Cutner’s tone changed when he said his wings might never be the same.

To not be able to fly was one thing, but to not be able to embrace his Chosen…

He’d hardly had the chance to process his joy over being married to his Alashiya, but knowing they had that bond helped soothe some small measure of his rage and grief over his injury.

It didn’t make it bearable, necessarily, but whenever he looked at that new, silvery scar on his palm, he was reminded that she’d claimed him in a way that could never be undone — all without the expectation of ever being wrapped in his wings.

He was determined to get his wings back, but if he didn’t, he’d survive it. Because he had her.

Sucking in a deep breath, he said, “I was pumped full of black market suppressants and had my wings electrified to stop me from escaping. The nerves are shot.”

Theodore’s dark brows drew together with concern. “What did your healers say?”

Not wanting to get into the gritty details, he answered, “They’re concerned but cautiously optimistic.”

“You need to talk to my wife,” Theodore insisted.

“She has enough on her plate.” Taevas cast the elf a look. “Didn’t her grandmother get shot? And I heard her cousin is still missing.”

Theodore pursed his lips. “Sophie’s fine.

Physically, anyway. And right now, Sergei is the only real lead we have on Ruby.

If you can get him to talk, there’s nothing she wouldn’t do for you.

” He paused. The scent of ozone and copper filled the air as his eyes went distant.

After a handful of seconds, the elf added with a rueful twist of his lips, “My wife would like me to inform you that she considers it her duty to heal you whether or not you help us find Ruby.”

Taevas tried not to show his surprise. There were rumors that the pair shared a telepathic bond, and after spending time with them he’d been nearly certain, but Theodore had never confirmed it.

What was shared between mates was sacred and private.

To hear him so casually share it now was a show of trust Taevas didn’t expect and never would’ve asked for.

Touched, he looked away from the young elf and cleared his throat. “I’ll do what I can regardless. But if… if you could, I would appreciate it if you encouraged Margot to keep in contact with my Shiya. She’ll need a friend who understands what it’s like to live the lives we do.”

“Of course.” Theodore nodded toward the window. His chin lifted. “Now go get our answers.”

Clapping Theodore’s shoulder, Taevas stepped back and opened the door.

Sergei didn’t look up as he entered the room.

He didn’t appear to notice or care when the door shut behind Taevas.

The dragon sat with his hands cuffed behind his back, his wide shoulders slumped and wings held rigidly.

His ankles were shackled too, but he didn’t appear particularly threatening with or without them.

The cocky dragon who’d thought to kidnap an Isand and claim his Alashiya was no more. Left in his place was a dirty, injured man in chains.

Their fight had certainly done a number on Sergei, but as Taevas sat down in the metal chair opposite him, he couldn’t help but think that Alashiya was responsible for his worst injuries.

On top of his bruises and slashes from Taevas’s claws, it was obvious where the grille of the SUV had split his cheek and cracked a horn — which was probably only a hint of the extent of the damage done to the rest of him.

The shotgun blast had hit the other side of him. Alashiya clearly hadn’t aimed for him directly, but it caught his upper shoulder, arm, and the corner of his jaw. A large swath of small, painful wounds had crusted over, clearly untreated.

It’d obviously been a rough couple days for the guy.

Taevas sat back in his chair. His tail swung in deceptively lazy circles to his left, the tip curling and uncurling reflexively. He couldn’t say he felt particularly sympathetic.

“It was damn stupid to try and cross into the EVP. You’re lucky the elves didn’t kill you.”

Sergei snorted. Still glaring at the tabletop, he rasped, “Like you aren’t?”

Thinking of his wings, his weeks of delirious captivity, and the grief and pain his people had gone through, Taevas replied, “I haven’t decided yet.”

Sergei rolled his injured shoulders but said nothing for a long time. When he did speak, his tone hardened. “What happened to the nymph?”

“Don’t talk about her,” Taevas snapped, tail rattling.

“I just want to know if she’s all right.”

Keeping his cool wasn’t normally an issue, but when Sergei spoke about Alashiya, his calm disintegrated. “You don’t get to know that. She’s not yours. You led Monty to her fucking nest, you piece of shit.”

Sergei shook his head. Scowl grooving lines on his bruised face, he protested, “He knew her land. I needed his help to find you. Once I had you, I was going to take care of him. I told her I would. I don’t tolerate men who bully women.”

“And you think she would’ve willingly gone with you after you invaded her land and kidnapped me?” Taevas scoffed. “I didn’t think you were particularly smart, Sergei, but that is really fucking stupid.”

“All of this was really fucking stupid,” Sergei snapped.

Finally looking up from the table, he fixed a bloodshot glare on Taevas and curled his upper lip over his fangs.

“None of this was my idea! None of this was what I wanted! But I thought, why not? Why not take the one good thing I could get out of it? I could take her out of that shit hole and protect her and be a good mate. I could.”

The heat of territorial rage burned in his chest, but Taevas was the one Alashiya Chose. He was the one who’d been welcomed into her ancient family. He was the one with the queen in his nest.

Sergei was just the big prick in handcuffs.

Speaking in a carefully measured voice, he asked, “Whose idea was it if not yours?”

A dry, humorless laugh escaped Sergei’s throat. “Why would I tell you that?”

“Because if you tell me everything you know, I might be more inclined to let you live.” Taevas bared his teeth in something that could only generously be called a smile.

“You broke my wings. You drugged me and held me captive for weeks. And worst of all, you threatened my Chosen. Suffice it to say that I’m not feeling merciful. ”

Whatever he expected, it wasn’t for a look of disgust to cross Sergei’s beaten face.

Sitting back as best he could with his hands cuffed behind his back, he hissed, “All I did was get the soldiers access to you. I didn’t touch your wings. I didn’t drug you. And I sure as fuck never threatened the nymph. I don’t hurt women. I wanted to protect her.”

“I remember you being where I was held,” Taevas shot back. He mockingly flicked his claws at his horns. “You’re a hard man to forget, Sergei. Even when drugged.”

Sergei grimaced and appeared to immediately regret it. Wincing, he dabbed at his split lip with his tongue. “I was called in when shit hit the fan. When I got there, you were already fucked up because the soldiers had no idea how to handle you. My only job was to move you.”

Whether Taevas believed him or not wasn’t important. They were on the right track.

“Who gave you that job?”

Sergei’s expression shut down. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t.”

Trying to rein in his temper, Taevas calmly informed him, “You understand that this is bigger than either of us, right? You didn’t just kidnap the Isand.

You are also the only known, uncompromised informant to what looks like an attempt to kill every leader of the UTA — including the elf standing outside this door.

If you don’t start talking, I’m not the only one you’ll answer to. ”

Sergei said nothing.

Taevas scrubbed his palm across his mouth. He didn’t want to be there talking to Sergei. He wanted to be back with his Chosen, beginning their lives together. He wanted to hear more about their wedding and fuck her in the nest properly this time.

He wanted Alashiya, plain and simple.

The smooth skin of his scar tickled his lips as he tried to get a hold on his impatience. Closing his eyes, he sucked in a deep breath.

Why would he do this?

He wracked his mind, looking for a reason someone like Sergei would do something as extreme and risky as helping kidnap him. If it wasn’t his idea, then it really wasn’t for revenge. And if it wasn’t for revenge, then what else was there?

His gut told him that if he found that reason, he’d be able to crack Sergei and get the information they all so desperately wanted.

The echo of Alashiya’s heart was a soothing beat in his chest as he glanced at his palm.

The silver line stared up at him, foreign and familiar and perfect.

She stood there beside him, her hand on his shoulder, even when she was high in the sky above him, having tea with Margot Goode. Safe. Content. His.

What could motivate a man like him to do something so… desperate?

His fingers curled into a fist.

Meeting Sergei’s impenetrable gaze, he asked, “It’s your family, isn’t it? Not Jaak. Your real family.”

The color drained out of the dragon’s face, leaving it a chalky blue. He didn’t reply, but there was a nearly visible crack in his composure as he held Taevas’s stare.

Scenting blood, Taevas stretched his memory back, searching for anything that might be relevant, any shred of a clue that might help them unwind the mystery Sergei seemed determined to die protecting.

A distant memory, so vague he wasn’t entirely certain he hadn’t made it up, tickled the back of his mind.

“You know,” he began, speaking slowly, “I used to get reports every year on Jaak’s offspring and former partners.

My uncle thought it was best to keep track of you, just in case you ever decided to act out.

I’ll be honest — I skimmed them for the last couple decades.

But I remember one of them. There was a rumor that Enel Luik took a religious path and joined a temple. ”

He stared hard at Sergei’s frozen face as he continued in a soft, sure voice. “I only noted it because I thought it was interesting. A dragon in Glory’s Temple? You don’t see that every day, do you?”

Sergei’s expression didn’t change, but his breathing picked up. Air whistled through his broken nose with every deep pull.

“I never thought of her again,” Taevas continued, ruthless. “I figured a woman who went into religious life had found peace and should be left alone, especially after what she’d been through. I had no idea she had a son.”

Color returned to Sergei’s cheeks with a vengeance. His blue skin darkened to nearly purple as he tried to maintain his composure.

Taevas dug into his memories of a time he did his best to forget. Jaak’s many mates hadn’t been something he was interested in when he was fighting the war. They were victims, just as the entire Draakonriik was a victim. The rumors of how he treated them had only added fuel to the fire of his rage.

But he remembered a story about an Enel, a young dragon from an ancient noble family who’d been bartered and sold to Jaak in exchange for a position in his shambling, cannibalistic government.

Whether it was the same woman who joined Glory’s Temple, he couldn’t yet confirm — but when he glanced at the shiny, dented metal capping Sergei’s horns, he suspected he was on the right path.

Taevas clasped his hands together and braced his forearms on the table.

“I loved my mother,” he confessed. “I admired her. She taught me how to be a protector, and how to stand up for what I believe in. But sometimes I hate her, too, for the decisions she made. I wonder why she couldn’t have just done something different.

Why she didn’t just choose her family over her morals. Why I had to suffer for her choices.”

Sergei’s throat bobbed. The chair creaked under his bulk as he shifted his weight. Still, he said nothing — even as a tear streaked down his bloody cheek.

Taking a breath, Taevas looked down at the table. “I would still do anything for her, if she were alive. If she needed me, I’d be there.” Lowering his voice, he asked, “Did your mother need you, Sergei?”