Page 53 of Ash

But the fact Aranta had been to his quarters sent his heart pounding. Not good. Razir would have been just as incapacitated as Tyrez was now.

He cleared his throat and fought his way through the mental fog to an intact sentence. Or rather, two. “The Dire is part of a Legion investigation. As such, she requires my protection.”

The scarlet-hued eyes narrowed. “I demand your complete attention. Can she not stay with another?”

“I am the one charged with her safety.” He swallowed. “I trust you left her in one piece?”

Aranta sidled closer, her lush assets on full and appealing view. She snarled. “I did. Why do you care?”

“She has information I require. On the Emperor’s orders.”

Even the traitorous wind conspired, drifting another gust of pheromone-laced air toward him. He trembled with need.

“The Emperor had better move her elsewhere if he wants to keep her alive.” She snorted. “Starting tomorrow, you aremyDragon,” she growled. “I will come for you. And I don’t care who or what she is, if she gets in the way, I will slice and dice her. Then she will no longer require your protection. And your focus will be where it should be.”

Tyrez’s mind struggled to operate beneath a pheromone-laden fog. “Yes, Aranta,” he managed.

She stepped in close to him, until her breasts brushed against his torso. One hand cupped him, while the fingers of the other—tipped in baby talons—slid over his length, igniting every nerve.

Tyrez lost the ability to breathe.

Then she spun, and stalked away, giving him a full and very deliberate view of her jiggling hips as the red scaled tail erupted from where the twin globes of her buttocks joined. Her wings spread before she’d completed four strides, and in eight, she was airborne.

Aching and rigid, Tyrez almost followed her. But she would only rebuff him until she was ready. Another day, followed by three with multiple, intense mating sessions.

The envy and goal of most male Dragons.

So why did his heart ache worse than his body? As though he was losing something, rather than gaining?

Gritting his teeth, Tyrez embraced his own change. In moments, he was beating his way into the sky. He climbed and climbed, until the air grew so thin, and cold, that his body finally cleansed itself of the scent driving it wild.

Only then did he turn for home, and the woman who awaited him there.

* * *

Ash was clothed only in his golden scales, lying on his back on a cold metal table. Even here, the ocean refused to be ignored—the metal vibrated, just a fraction, with every wave.

It was marginally better than being staked out in the weather, but a whole lot more alarming. His body ached with a dull, never-ending throb, but the worst was the piercing pain in his neck.

Piercing, because he had a needle shoved into him.

Rindek removed the syringe with a flourish and grinned down at Ash. His pointed teeth had never looked more sharklike.

Warmth spread from the injection site, carried with every beat of his heart. Ash gasped at the sensation of power that came with it—it shoved away the pain and energized every cell it touched.

Crystal. Rindek had injected him with crystal dust.

Usually, he gave Ash small doses, just enough to keep him alive. But this was a large infusion, and the power of it surged through Ash. For the first time in recent memory, he almost believed he could fly. His body arched against the restraints, rattling the table.

But the manacles were designed to hold, and they did. Ash slumped back down against the cold steel, panting.

The Archmage hove back into view. “Feeling good? Enjoy it while it lasts, my young pet.”

Ash summoned up a glare. “What are you planning?” But he knew.

Rindek ignored him, turning away to fiddle with beakers on the countertop. They were sealed, and filled with a substance that glowed an angry red color.

It was Demeti who stepped close, and hissed, “The Dragons have plagued us for long enough. We intend to do something about it.”

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