Burned (Drake Security #5)

Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

LORD

I struggle to keep my expression neutral and my breathing even in spite of the spike of terror and anxiety I can feel through our bond just before Alrick’s eyelids droop closed and sleep pulls him under. It’s not only his panic raging inside of my chest and twisting my stomach into knots.

He’s a dragon slayer. That’s what he was saying as the potion Dahlia gave me started to take effect. A dragon did this to him. I put my hand on his healing chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing comforting in spite of everything else. Not just any dragon. I would bet money that it was Judre. It’s too much of a coincidence otherwise.

Was Alrick the one who’d landed the fatal blow against my old friend?

With his eyes no longer on me, giving me incentive to remain calm, my breathing becomes rapid and my mind spins. Even if he wasn’t the one to end Judre, if it was one of his brothers or another slayer who happened to be with them, does it really matter? He was party to the attack. How many dragons have soaked his hands with their blood?

Bile rises in my throat, and I gulp down air in desperate pants. I clutch my chest with one hand, fighting back the urge to sob or roar or scream until my throat is raw and the pain inside me has burned itself out to nothing but ash and cinders. My other hand, the one still resting on Alrick’s chest, ripples with scales, my fingers elongating and my nails sharpening into talons capable of tearing through flesh as easily as a hot knife through butter.

He’s fast asleep and he won’t be waking up anytime soon thanks to Dahlia’s concoction. It was meant to help him sleep so he could heal, but that was before I knew what he truly was. I could finish the job Judre started. He would have died in the forest all alone anyway if I hadn’t stepped in and knocked fate off course. I would only be setting things right. I could sink my claws through his already torn body and rip his heart out. We’re bonded, which means it would kill me too, but I don’t think that’s what’s making my body tremble and my heart race.

A sob finally slips past my lips and my hand shrinks back into its human shape.

What a fucking mess I’ve made.

Another sob works its way up my throat, but it turns into a strangled laugh as I choke it out. Centuries spent feeling superior to my brothers, over a millennia of thinking it was my advanced control and maturity that was keeping us all safe and on the right path, and look where it led me.

Laughter and anguish converge into one strangled sound that I gasp between breaths before finally slumping forward. I bury my face against the bandages covering Alrick’s chest. The coppery smell of his blood is less alarming than it was before, his body well on its way to being fully healed. It’s the flowers and ocean scent that overwhelms me now, filling my lungs and wrapping itself around me.

In spite of everything I just learned, my dragon purrs happily inside of me, content just to nuzzle our mate.

Our mate .

Our fucking mate.

There’s a faint pulse of warmth and peace through the bond that links me to this stranger who’s hell-bent on destroying my kind, and I fucking hate that I take comfort in knowing he’s sleeping soundly. He’s lost in his dreams, blissfully unaware of this mess… for a few more days, at least. Once he wakes up… well, that will be a different story, I’m sure.

“ You knock .” My brother Arson’s whisper comes through my bedroom door as clearly as if he were standing right next to me, speaking at full volume.

“Why do I have to knock?” Hemingway hisses back. “I think Nico should knock.”

“For the love of Versace, I have never met a bigger bunch of overgrown baby lizards than the four of you,” Lake, Nico’s mate says, not bothering to lower his voice like the rest of them. There’s a sharp rap seconds later and he speaks even more loudly through the door. “Lord, sweetie, we’re worried about you.”

I sit up reluctantly and reach for the damp rag I brought into the room right before Alrick woke up, wringing it out and then using it to gently clean the days’ worth of sweat and grime off of his face.

“I’m fine,” I answer, keeping my voice as even as possible.

There’s scuffling and more hissed voices that I try to tune out. I’m sure they’re arguing about whose turn it is to speak next in this half-baked intervention or whatever this is.

Someone clears their throat—my brother Valentino, from the sound of it.

“It’s just that you left to return Judre to his clan two days ago and you’ve been locked in your room ever since. It’s not like you,” Tino says.

“Am I not allowed to grieve in peace?” I growl in a low voice. It’s a half-truth. Even if it weren’t for Alrick, I can’t imagine I would be in the mood for company at the moment. But still, I have to bite my tongue to keep from confessing the rest to my brothers.

Since the day we hatched, I can’t think of a single time I’ve lied to them, even by omission. I’ve never had a reason to before. But what am I supposed to tell them right now? ‘My dragon went rogue, and I bonded a dragon hunter whose brothers may or may not be on a warpath to destroy us as we speak. Oh, and he might have killed Judre?’

My throat tightens and I set the damp cloth aside, settling back in my chair, my gaze fixed on my mate’s sleeping form, just like it has been since I brought him home.

“The thing is…” Apparently it’s Draydon, Arson’s wolf mate, who’s been elected to have a go next. “We can smell a human.”

“And blood,” Montrose, Valentino’s mate, says bluntly.

I wince.

“Don’t say it like that, it’s going to sound like we’re accusing him of something.” That’s Dempsey, Hemingway’s mate. I can practically see him pushing up his glasses and puffing up like a little kitten as he tries to stand up for me among the band of tactless idiots I call my family.

“Right, like Lord picked up a human snack on his way home from Judre’s and has been in there slowly devouring him for two days.” Arson snorts a laugh.

“I’m fine ,” I growl again through my teeth. “I’m not devouring anyone, and I’d really prefer some goddamn peace if you all wouldn’t mind.”

Silence falls outside of my door. I so rarely utter curses, I’m sure that was enough to startle them on its own.

Eventually, I hear their footsteps fade as they all make their way out of my house, leaving me alone with my slumbering mate once again. I sigh and brush the long, blond strands of his hair off his forehead, a heavy weight settling into my chest.

“What am I going to do with you?” I murmur out loud, half hoping the sky will open up and fate herself will do me the kindness of telling me what I did to deserve this.

No such luck though. The sky stays closed and the urge to crawl into bed beside Alrick and cuddle him close while he heals remains.

I am so utterly fucked.

ALRICK

Consciousness is a funny thing. I never really appreciated it until it became a wispy, elusive thing I couldn’t quite seem to grab no matter how hard I tried. I drift in and out for an eternity. Days? Weeks? Years? I have no way of knowing. Sometimes I wake up to find the stranger—the dragon —dripping cool water onto my parched lips, other times I find him asleep in the chair beside the bed. He feeds me, and as much as I want to refuse it, I can’t. My stomach growls loudly every time the rich smell of soup tickles my nose, and as soon as my belly is full, I always fall asleep again.

I’m never awake long enough to wonder why he’s keeping me here or why he rescued me in the first place. He must have a reason, and maybe eventually my mind will be clear enough to contemplate it.

The one thing I cling to is that every time I blink awake, the pain is a little less. It’s easier to breathe and easier to move. I don’t know what’s going to happen once I’m fully healed but knowing that I will heal is a comfort.

I pry my eyelids open and drag in a deep, full breath, noting the way my chest expands with ease, without a hint of pain or the restriction of tight bandages wrapped around my ribs. The sun is streaming through the large windows, casting warm rays over the bed where I’m sleeping, heating my skin and pulling me fully awake. My bladder is screaming at me and my stomach twinges with emptiness as I sit up and push the blankets off.

I glance around, finding myself alone for the first time since I first woke up here. The dragon isn’t far though. I’m not sure how I know that, but I do. It’s like I can feel him somehow, feel the way the air shifts around him in space wherever he is in the house. I look down at my bare chest and stroke my fingers over my unblemished skin. My mind flashes with the memory of my flesh tearing, the sound of my ribs cracking and the smell of my own blood filling the air. My breathing speeds up and my whole body trembles involuntarily.

That dragon nearly killed me. He did kill me. But somehow, I’m still alive.

Lord isn’t the same dragon, is he? I shiver at the thought.

The last thing I remember before waking up here was lying in the forest, staring up at the stars, thinking of my ancestors and wondering if a slayer who’s never made a kill would be welcomed into the warriors’ afterlife or if something else awaited me on the other side.

I close my eyes and tug on the memory. Everything is black and swirling though, muted like the world around me slipped away. And then… heat. Intense, consuming heat scorching every cell in my body inside and out. I drag in a sharp breath and sputter a cough, my throat burning at the memory.

I shift towards the edge of the bed, paying attention to every muscle in my body, gauging whether I’m as healed as I think I am or if it’s some kind of trick. But aside from the general sluggishness of too much sleep and the need for a good meal, I can’t remember a time I’ve felt better. My heart is beating strongly, my body feels rested and vital, and the longer I’m awake, the more lucid I feel.

It’s a good sign that whatever the dragon has been drugging me with to keep me asleep is wearing off. Did he miss a dose? Does he expect me to continue to sleep? Maybe I can use the element of surprise to my advantage. But first things first… I stand up and shuffle towards a slightly open door on the far side of the room, praying it’s a bathroom.

I let out a sigh of relief when I see that it is. I flip on the light and hurry to relieve myself, letting out a groan that would be more appropriate if I had my dick down someone’s throat rather than simply enjoying the feeling of emptying my bladder. But damn if this piss doesn’t feel better than any orgasm I’ve ever had.

When I’m finished, I wash up at the sink and rinse out my mouth since I have no clue how long it’s been since I’ve brushed my teeth. I’m gargling mouthwash when I hear the creak of a door. My whole body freezes and I spit into the sink, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth. My heart hammers and I strain my ears, inching towards the bathroom door, prepared in case the dragon, Lord , bursts in. On the other side, I hear the clatter of silverware, and the smell of that damn soup makes my stomach growl loudly.

I hold on to the door handle for a minute or two, weighing my options. There aren’t any windows in the bathroom large enough for me to climb out of, and Lord obviously knows now that I’m awake and healed enough to get out of bed, so my element of surprise is gone. My choices are extremely limited, especially all alone against a dragon. My heart jumps again and I look down at myself, even though I already know I’m not wearing anything except for a pair of shorts that don’t belong to me.

My sword is gone.

Did Lord take it when he found me?

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Dragon slayers earn their sword on their eighteenth birthday. A special sword imbued with magic strong enough to pierce a dragon’s scales, the blade forged in cursed fire that will instantly poison a dragon when it enters them. You only get one. If you lose it… well, you just don’t . I shudder at the thought of my dad’s disapproving glare if he knew I let a dragon take it from me.

I swallow hard and squeeze the doorknob tighter.

Okay, so it looks like I only have one option at the moment. Play the part of cooperative prisoner, figure out where Lord is keeping my sword, and, when the time is right, find a way to escape.

Easy enough, right?

I take one more deep breath and swing the door open to face my captor.