Page 64 of Burned

I shake my head slowly.

“No. Let him go, Digby. Let’s talk.” I hold my hands up in front of me, speaking slowly and carefully, not wanting to set him off.

“Yes, let’s,” he agrees. “I’m sure dad would love to hear what you have to say.”

Chapter

Twenty

LORD

Unease prickles under my skin as my scales ripple across it rapidly. My dragon is not at all relaxed and I can’t say I am either. It was a mistake to let Alrick go alone, but what can I do about it now? I could find him using our bond and his scent, but then what? Kidnap him from his own family?

“Lord.”

I look at Arson, aware that I haven’t heard any of the last twenty minutes of conversation.

“What?”

“I said Dahlia is on her way over.”

I nod, returning my gaze to the glass of whiskey I’ve been nursing for over an hour. “Okay.”

“Dude. He’s got it bad,” Valentino says.

“Of course he does. It’s his mate,” Lake chimes in.

“It’ll be okay,” Dempsey offers, ever the soother.

My brothers and their mates continue discussing me as though I’m not in the room, and even as their voices offer somecomfort, my chest tightens. I need to know he’s okay. I need him here with me.

My doorbell rings, and I’m vaguely aware of Dahlia’s presence, until a pop and hiss causes Montrose to screech and jump into Tino’s arms.

“Get that away from me,” he says, curling his body around my brother’s.

“It won’t hurt you,” Dahlia says, holding the offending bottle slightly in front of her. “Unless you drink it.”

“What is that?” Lake asks.

“A special request,” she says, setting it on the coffee table in front of me. “It has to cure for three more hours, but I figured I’d bring it over, if only to get it out of my workshop. Are you sure about this, Lord?”

I glare at the bottle filled with spitting liquid in a swamp green color. It smells terrible. I want to throw it across the room, but instead, I turn away from it.

“Can you at least tell me its purpose?” Dahlia asks.

“Oh shit,” Arson says. “It severs the bond, doesn’t it?”

I respond with only a curt nod.

“Severs what bond?” Dahlia asks.

“Mate bond.” Nico huffs. “Lord accidentally on purpose bonded himself to a dragon slayer.”

As soon as the words hit my dragon, he thrashes inside me, bringing a wave of nausea with it. I’d rather pluck the scales from my body than sever this bond. A tendril of smoke escapes my lips, and I growl.

“That makes a lot more sense now,” Dahlia muses. “It was the first time in all my years of practice that it felt like the recipe was fighting me.”

“What do you mean?” Dempsey asks.

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