Page 13 of Pierce

There was no excuse for what I was putting the family through except what the dragon was telling me: the girl was my mate, the one I had long since stopped waiting for because I was sure she would never exist—and even if she did, there was the problem of us finding each other when I spent my life in a cave.

“I couldn’t leave her there, and I won’t let her die here.”

Smoke held eye contact for a beat, like he was waiting for me to change my mind or come to my senses. When I didn’t, his shoulders fell along with his expression.

He knew there was no getting through to me. “Fine, then. Gate will be back with the others—it’s my turn to keep watch outside.”

“All right.” I stared at Gate as he left, and he shot me a dirty look.

I wished things didn’t have to devolve the way they had. We weren’t on opposing sides and never had been, but a wedge had suddenly worked its way between us. Maybe between me and the rest of my family. The thought made my heart heavy, but some things meant more than avoiding friction.

Like her.

Every moment her wound was exposed to the dank, moldy air of the cells put her one moment closer to infection, then death. I couldn’t allow that after already risking so much to bring her there, including my relationship with my family.

Just like I couldn’t risk them killing her to protect us.

Would they do that? The dragon in me roared in fury at the thought of it, and it was a struggle to keep my head on straight long enough to think things through.

I could never think straight when he was on the rampage, and just now he wanted me to tear through our home and upend everything in sight.

Especially when I considered that they might, in fact, kill her in order to remove the threat of her alerting the outside world to our presence.

Or let her die. They might overpower me, find a way to subdue me.

One dragon was strong, but five against one was still unfavorable odds, and I had the feeling all five of them would be against me. They could allow her to die in that cell. She wouldn’t be the first, only the first in a long time.

I was running out of time. I had to make a decision. As I watched her, lying there on that pile of blankets without another person in the world to stand up for her life, there was no question about what I needed to do.

I lit one of the candles and rinsed the blade of my knife, which I’d just used to cut off that blood-soaked hoodie, then held it over the flame to sterilize it before sliding it across the inside of my wrist.

Instantly, blood flowed from the cut. I wasn’t worried about it—I’d heal just as quickly as I healed from everything else. What worried me was getting enough blood onto the girl’s wound in time to heal her.

I held my arm over her shoulder and watched as blood poured out, covering her wound.

“Come on,” I whispered, watching, waiting for the healing to start. “Come on. Close up.”

Instead of the muscles and skin knitting themselves together, the way I had imagined it, my blood began to sizzle as it worked its way into her muscles and tendons.

Her eyes flew open just before a soul-searing scream split the silence.

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