Page 55 of Siren's Gift

A ragged gasp tore through the silence.

My muscles went rigid, every nerve on high alert. Keiko’s breath hitched beside me, but I didn’t look at her. I was lockedonto Rin, holding my breath as I analyzed every shallow rise of his chest, every flicker of movement. He continued to breathe.

Oh, thank fuck. He was alive—for now.

But my relief was short-lived. From the way his body barely moved and the deathly pallor of his skin, I knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

How much time did we have before things took a turn for the worse?

Jou let out a whine behind me, a raw, keening sound that sent a chill down my spine.

I turned just in time to see Hayai convulse, the flames along his serpentine body flickering like dying embers. His brilliant scales dulled, and the fire within him snuffed out. As his body crumbled into ash, his presence vanished from the air as if he’d never been here at all.

A knot formed in my stomach.

Hayai was gone.

Dragons weren’t supposed to die. Their spirits were nearly eternal, bound to us through blood and ink in ways no one fully understood and preserved in between bondings once the host passed away. But Rin had been pushed too far—his body breaking, his spirit fading—and Hayai had paid the ultimate price.

Jou pressed his snout to the dragon-shaped ashes and let out a soft, mournful rumble that vibrated through my ribs.

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to breathe, to focus, even as something dark and vicious inside me twisted at the sight. The grief was nothing compared to the rage that curled hot and hungry in my gut.

Ichiro didn’t just torture Rin. He destroyed a dragon. He took something ancient and sacred and beautiful and snuffed it out like it meant nothing. And losing one’s dragon was like losing apiece of one’s soul. I couldn’t imagine the pain Rin would feel when he woke up.

But as unfair as it might be, this was not the time to grieve and rage. I couldn’t afford to lose my head, not just yet. Not while Rin still needed me. But the moment I had that soulless son of a bitch in front of me, I’d make sure he understood what it felt like to be powerless. To lose everything.

Because I wasn’t just going to kill my grandfather.

I was going to make himfearme.

Aaron slid to a halt just outside the door, panting, sweat beading across his forehead. His eyes quickly took in the scene before his lips pressed together in a tight line. "I’ve opened all the captives’ doors and helped out those I could, but we’ve got incoming. A dozen, at least, and heavily armed."

And that development was exactly why we preferred well-thought-out plans to today’s impulsive yet necessary action. Our time was up.

"We need to move." My voice was steady, though colder than I meant it to be. But emotion wouldn’t save Rin—action would.

Keiko picked herself off Rin’s chest, wiping her tears away. For a moment, I saw the vulnerable, broken version of her. The part of her that wanted to shatter into grief. The part that rarely—if ever—surfaced.

Then years of training kicked in. Her face hardened, her shoulders rolled back. When she met my gaze, there was nothing but the inevitable.

Death had arrived.

"I will drain them all."

I nodded. "Go."

I broke the steel restraints and lifted Rin’s limp—but thankfully still breathing—form and slung him over my shoulder, the fading heat of Hayai’s ashes scattering beneath my feet. He deserved better.

Dark shadows swirled around Keiko’s ankles, then she slipped out the door, silent as a wraith. Aaron was right behind her.

Shouts of surprise and pain followed only a moment later.

Jou let out a final, grief-filled roar at the other dragon’s ashes before launching himself in front of me. A shield of fiery fury protecting meandRin.

With a heavy heart and step, I followed the trail of blood and screams.

CHAPTER 27

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