Page 92 of Tempting Her Dragons

The cage is nothing but a puddle underneath my dragon’s feet. The snake is long gone, escaping my beast. I look down at the coyote standing weakly next to Roxanne; her fear leaking through the air. The rabbit smiles slightly and moves away. Even if she stayed close, my dragon would never hurt her. We know who the bad guy is.

I open my mouth and roar, my fire blasting Rach. Her hair goes up in flames, and her screams satisfy my dragon. Her hands reach for her head as she stumbles backward, trying to escape the heat.

“No, no, no,” she sobs, and her words are muffled. My dragon can understand, but they are hollow and distant, floating away because of my anger.

My emotions are connected to my dragon, but she expands on them, growing them to a point that my human logic can’t penetrate. We both are enraged. She tried to take me away from my mates. I finally found them and won’t allow them to be taken away.

The ground vibrates as I take a step, and she wobbles. Her human steps get her nowhere compared to one of mine. My body hits a tree, and it cracks. Rach veers out of the way as it hits the ground. All I see is her death. She dared to put a collar around my neck. Put me in a cage after years of emotional progress to get past that time in my life. My mates are probably worried and on their way, hoping I don’t get hurt.

Kill her. Kill her.

She asked for punishment. She can join her love in death. I breathe my fire again, and her pants catch the flames. My sensitive nose smells her burning flesh, and if my dragon couldsmile, she would. She is protecting me and anyone else she may have hurt on her journey of revenge. I vaguely hear the humans’ screams, but we are on a mission.

My tail swishes back and forth, the thud of it ringing in my ears. I spread my wings, taking flight, and hover over her weakened form. I reach for her shirt, and she tries to swat my claws away. Her attempt is futile. I slip the point underneath the fabric and lift. Her cries mean nothing to me, as do her flailing limbs, which are weakly trying to fight.

My head snaps up, and my eyes narrow when I catch the scent of my mates. I see their human forms moving closer, and they are covered in red. Human blood clings to their skin, and I don’t like it.

The only scent that should be mixed with theirs is mine.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Maverick

The humans are writhing on the ground behind us. They tried to attack us with their knives, as if they could compare to our claws. One man tried to shoot me, but the gun melted before he pulled the trigger. We didn’t have to shift to kill them, and those who are still alive won’t last long with our poison coursing through their bodies.

The family walks behind us, with us. When we arrived in the remote area of the forest, we encountered twenty humans. Their reasons for helping the woman take our mate don’t matter. They can take the explanation to the grave. All that matters is Saphira and her return to us, where she belongs.

Since the first second of Sally’s appearance in the basement, my heart has stopped beating. My body is on autopilot. My dragon is clawing at my chest, begging to be let out to rescue our mate. She belongs to us. I wish we didn’t have to rely on the trail Mom left but could rely on the bond instead. When we are fullyconnected, the bond will guide us to wherever she is. As it is, there is only a faint trace of our connection.

“Holy shit,” River whispers with awe, and I understand his sentiment. Saphira is in her dragon form, flying feet above the ground, holding the dying woman with just a claw.

Fucking stunning.

Her gold scales flicker, sparkling with green accents, and her brown eyes are tinged with gold and are locked on us. She’s not as large as Kingston or me, but her head would reach the top of most of the trees here. The poison from her free claw is dripping onto the grass, causing it to sizzle as it hits.

“She didn’t need my help, but I’m glad you made it,” Mom says as she walks over.

“What happened?” I ask.

“The woman put her in a cage,” she says.

“Fuck no,” Laken says.

“She had a collar on,” she continues, and I growl.

“A collar?” Bishop whispers.

“She talked about the Games.” Mom wraps her hand around my arm. “I didn’t hear everything, but the woman was there.”

“In the Games?” River snarls.

“Yes,” she replies.

“How did Saphira get free?” Sally asks.

“She melted it,” Kingston guesses, and Mom nods.

“The woman is almost dead,” Micah states.

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