Page 89 of Cursed

I see Landis and him hidden behind some trees in the distance. Quade is likely still knocked out and at their feet. My heart aches to be near my mates.

I run toward the gate to reach them.

A wave of heat and a towering presence rises behind me.

A dragon—but notmydragon.

26

THERE BE DRAGONS

SHAYLA

As I spin to see Drake exiting the asylum behind me, he snatches me in his giant paw. The beast isn’t gentle. The tips of his claws dig into my sides as he lifts me high into the air to glare at me.

With little effort, he knocks Branden with his other arm, sending him flying.

My vamp crashes into the asylum’s rock perimeter wall. His head cracks against the hard stone in a frighteningly loud way. He slides to the ground and doesn’t get up.

Before I can see if his chest rises for another breath, Drake is jarred forward and stumbles.

When he turns, Rourke’s dragon is rearing back and ready to unleash his fire. But then he catches sight of me in his fire’s path.

Worried I might get hit, he chokes down the flame, refusing to unleash his fiery fury.

Through our bond, I feel his doubts about winning this battle, since I’m in his father’s clutches. He’s limited in his attacks because he might also hurt me. And he knows his father, even weakened, is more powerful than he is.

Yet, I remind myself that I have the means to help him win—to be his father’s match. And I am able to help myself escape too.

With my new skill, I pull the energy from around me. Drake’s magic brushes up against my strange ability. His is different from most of the magic I’ve encountered. I sense his dragon’s innate magic and his mage-fire, but there’s also so much more inside…stolenmagic.

What was once stolen can be taken again.

In my mind’s eye, I perceive the tangled energy cords of all his victims. My shadows reach into Drake’s center, just as Shade had done to me, and I pull.

The dragon cries out as he feels my invasion and how I’m draining him.

He probably didn’t expect that. I don’t know how I am able to get past his natural defenses. Perhaps it’s because of my connection with Rourke. Maybe it’s because of my innate gift. Or maybe it’s because he opened himself up for attack by allowing magic to be forced inside his body. Regardless, I’m able to drag it back out and absorb it.

Then I remember what Mannyx said—that he could siphon my mate’s magic through me. Could I funnel my magicintomy mates?

Drake ruthlessly squeezes his grip around me, crushing me in his anger. As my ribs are about to crack, I scream but maintain my focus.

When Rourke sees it’s more of a risk not to, he swipes out at his father’s side.

His razor-sharp talons rake down his father’s flank, but it does little damage. Dragons are made of tough stuff. And even another dragon, especially a younger, less powerful one, can hardly cause damage to someone like Drake with centuries of power and stolen magic on his side.

If Drake takes off, I’ll be on my own. And even if I can drain Drake, I will probably need help to take him out of commission.

To escape with me, Drake dips slightly to spring off the ground. His expansive wings stretch outward.

Rourke swipes his claws, slicing the more delicate membrane of the wings and, at the same time, jumps onto his father’s back to keep him grounded.

Drake flails, trying to rid himself of Rourke’s weight. But Rourke holds on and sinks his sharp teeth into Drake’s shoulder.

Not a killing bite, but I’m encouraged by Drake’s fading power. His usually impervious hide is weakening.

I’m jerked side to side and up and down as Drake struggles. His grip around my middle doesn’t loosen. If anything, it cinches tighter.

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