Page 42 of Bound By My Alpha Mate

An hour later, we loaded up into a couple of Mythguard vans and made our way to the mine.

Everyone was silent. I anticipated that this would be the last day I saw my father alive, and I was prepared to do what needed to be done. If it meant watching him die, so be it. My nerves were electric, my ears ringing with anticipation. A chill took over my body, but I didn’t suspect it was from anything other than my nervousness, even if it was intense enough to make me shiver. I balled my fists tight on my lap, thinking about the three balsam resin darts in my pocket that were destined for Lothair.

We drove as close to the mine as possible without being detected, but once our caravan was parked and we had all filed out and were slipping through the trees and up the mountainside to the edge of the pit, our presence was already known. The seven shifters on patrol were waiting for us, some concealed behind boulders, others lurking in the darkness at the mouth of the mine. When one of them made the mistake of exposing a little too much of their arm, one of the Mythguard snipers fired. He hit his mark; the stricken shifter shouted and stumbled into the open, firing a handgun in our direction. He missed us, then dropped to the ground, already made dizzy by the tranquilizer.

In the blink of an eye, our Mythguard operatives flooded out from their hiding spots, and the shifters advanced on them. The fight came to a swift conclusion: one Mythguard human lay dead on the dusty ground, and all of the wolves—my packmates—were unconscious, as were all but one of the dragons. That one shifter was sprawled at the bottom of the pit with a broken spine, having tumbled over a rocky ledge.

I was already sweating, and I hadn’t even engaged in any combat. A few of the Mythguard operatives slipped into the mine while the rest of us waited for signs of further engagement, but only silence followed.

About a minute later, our guys reappeared outside. “There’s nobody in there,” one of them said. “It’s empty.”

“What?” growled Everett.

“They have to be here,” said Gavin, pushing forward.

“The first few rooms are all clear,” confirmed one of the men.

Gavin stepped into the darkness of the cave. I followed him, quickly noticing that not even the lanterns were lit inside. Everett stormed in after us. “We should allow the operatives to sweep the entire mine before we go in,” he said.

“If there isn’t an entire clan of dragons here to protect David, I doubt he’s hiding in the back,” said Gavin.

“He’s right, Everett. They must have left a few shifters behind to give the illusion that they were still here,” I said. “But I can still smell someone, even through the silver. I think there’s a fresh scent inside.”

I led Gavin and Everett through the tunnels, deeper into the mine. Billie and Aislin hung back under the protection of Mythguard, but the three of us were determined to be at the forefront to protect our packs and our mates should we come face to face with our opponents. I felt a strange solidarity with Gavin and Everett here. We all had the same goal, the same hatred for the ones who had thrust our home into chaos.

But as prepared as we were for the final showdown, the mine was empty of life. My little nook in the cavern was untouched. The room where my father stayed, with his table and his sleeping bag, and his now empty crates, had grown cold without his presence. As we approached the tunnel where Muriel and the girls had been kept prisoner, the only lit lantern in the mine flickered against the walls. We turned the corner and simultaneously tensed at the sight of someone in human form, waiting for us.

He raised his head, blond hair falling in front of his sad, sunken eyes as he cradled a baby in his arms. A chain around his ankle kept him anchored to the floor. “You’ve come to kill me,” said Lothair, voice cracking with defeat. “Make it quick, then.”

Terrible sorrow shrouded the dragon Alpha, but it didn’t show on his face, only in his posture and the heavy atmosphere surrounding him. I didn’t know what I felt for Lothair at that moment.

Gavin lunged forward, all too ready to do as he was told, only to stop suddenly when his eyes fell upon the child. Everett and I quickly joined Gavin’s side; there, we saw the baby girl in Lothair’s arms, her eyes closed, breathing gently in her blanket, lulled into the comfort of restful sleep.

“She’s still alive,” I said, unable to keep relief from my voice.

“Yes. Muriel used the last of her magic to heal my daughter,” Lothair replied without emotion. He peered down at the infant, seemingly disconnected from her, looking at her as if she were just an object and not his own beloved child. “She is perfectly healthy.” Then, he looked back up at us again. “But I suspect she won’t be for long, in your custody.”

Anger prevented Gavin from saying anything.

Everett turned his attention to the chain around Lothair’s ankle. “They left you behind. Why?”

This time, Lothair hesitated to speak. His stare ventured past us.

But I knew the answer. “They overthrew you.”

Lothair frowned. “Yes. My Inkscales decided I was too weak to continue leading them.”

“Are you serious?” sneered Gavin.

“Lothair disappeared after Sibyelle’s death,” I explained. “Evidently, the Inkscales didn’t take kindly to his grieving process.”

“Any of you would have done the same had your fated mate died before your very eyes,” Lothair said bitterly.

He was probably right, at least with respect to Gavin. I didn’t know if Everett would have isolated himself. But that didn’t matter—what mattered was that the Grandbay and Eastpeak pack members wouldn’t have ousted their Alphas for mourning the deaths of their mates. That was where wolves differed from dragons.

“Is Kipling the Alpha now?” I asked.

“No,” said Lothair. “That whelp may have rallied the dragons against me, but he doesn’t know how to lead worth a damn. They have pledged their allegiance to the one who offered them a chance to become Lycan alongside him. The Inkscale dragons now serve David Hexen.”

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