Page 127 of Her Tortured Beasts

To his credit, he refuses to step inside the property, as relayed by the hotel manager. Scythe sighs when he gets out his phone to look at the security camera footage.

“He couldn’t give her a day of peace,” I mutter. “Just one fucking day.”

“Savage, stay with our regina,” Scythe orders over his shoulder. “Lyle and I will be back.”

I cannot tell what my shark-brother is thinking, but a great cold descends upon him, wafting in a hoarfrost around him.

We take the elevator down in silence, neither of us wanting to leave our regina, but also wanting to wring the neck of the dragon who haunts us.

Exiting into the lobby, we find the security guards milling about, unsettled by the dragon’s arrival. Scythe placates them with his mere presence, having quiet words with the head of security before we stride across the marble tiles towards the main hotel entrance.

I can’t sense Xander like I used to, his volcanic presence missing from a space in my spirit and mind, but every animalia in the lobby knows there’s a dragon outside because Xander is no longer masking.

He’s let his power out, wanting to be known and, no doubt, wanting to be heard.

Scythe exhales heavily through his nose, another tell that he’s troubled by this. I cannot even imagine the level of betrayal he felt the night Xander left.

I narrow my eyes when I see him, my lion letting out a low, threatening growl.

The betrayer waits beyond the revolving glass doors, standing in the middle of the drive through, his arms loosely by his side. His clothing of choice is a pair of track pants and a black T-shirt, unusually casual for him as well as the wind-swept, loose hair. His glowing eyes shine with an otherworldlygolden light that makes me scowl. Is this some side-effect of the severing? The human porters have long fled, their scents nothing but weak flutters in the air.

His eyes flicker as he sees us, his face deadly serious, no trace of his usual sneer.

“Scythe. Lyle,” he greets in a tone like flat, packed earth.

To prevent us from enticing our beasts, we stop a distance away. Scythe has stopped breathing, likely to avoid filling his sinuses with the smoky embers of Xander’s scent.

If it’s angering me, Goddess knows what it’s doing to him. A beast who had once been more than a brother.

“You have a death wish, dragon,” I warn, pushing my lion down.

Xander presses his lips together in a moment of irritation, before saying, “I just want to see her.”

“No,” us brothers growl in unison.

“What fucking right do you have?” My voice is nothing but a rumble, hardly decipherable as my lion shoulders forward. “The only right you have is to a space we’ve reserved for you six feet under the Mariana Trench. Curse you, Xander Drakos. And curse your entire family.”

His throat bobs up and down, and for the first time since I’ve known him, Xander has no retort. To my second surprise, the light of his magical eyes falters. “I deserve that. I know I do.”

“Then why the fuck would you even try?” I ask. “In what universe would weeverlet you near her after what you did?”

“I have to try,” he replies. “Scythe?—”

“Donotspeak to him,” I snap.

Xander ignores me. “Scythe, it’s good to see you’re back.”

Until now, my shark-brother has remained silent this entire time, simply staring at the dragon. But he speaks now, in a low, dangerous voice, his power cyclonic in a cold wind. “The onlything I will permit, Xander Drakos,” Scythe says with full venom, “is your death. Nothing more.”

Xander flinches at that—actually visibly flinches. Scythe and I stare at him in disbelief. At what he’s become.

“I’m sorry.” Xander pauses, seeming to struggle for a moment. “Out of respect for you, I want to inform you that I will be shadowing you. Shadowing Aurelia—” I growl at his audacity to use her name and he puts his hands up. “I have to ensure her safety. I don’t want anything further to happen to her.”

“You…want…to ensure her safety,” I say through clenched teeth. “I can’t believe this.”

“I’ll stay out of sight,” he urges, spreading his hands out as if this is a reasonable thing to say. “You know you can’t stop me.”

Scythe and I go still before Scythe unfreezes himself. “There are many ways to stop a dragon,” Scythe rasps.

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