Page 113 of Centaur Bolt

And then, it wanted the woman.

That was a problem. Because this was my opportunity to bolt rather than rejoin Marcus and Riley. If I went back to them—in my current state, it wouldn’t be a peaceful reunion.

The depths of my shock and dismay when I’d run to the pond and found her in Marcus’s arms—she was supposed to be a damned dream. No, a nightmare. Something I could leave in the dark recesses of my mind and, preferably, ignore.

But she was real.

She was also trouble. There was clearly a connection between her and the ex-Centaur. And yet when I held her against me—both my monster and my beast pushed me to transform, and carry her away.

They wanted her. No, it was more than that. I assessed the power of what lay within me, and ice traveled up my spine.

They didn’t just want to fuck her. They wanted toclaimher.

As what? I didn’t want the answer to that question, and I shied away from it. Was this some weird pheromone thing? She did smell amazing. Every inhalation sent tingles to my core. A Dragona on cycle would be just what the Deranger craved.

Except if all the signals were to be believed, she belonged to someone else.

Fate was indeed a twisted bitch. Well, I knew that already. And since when did I care about such things? Riley belonged to whomever was strong enough to claim her.

Marcus’s Wyvern had already yielded to the Deranger. But what had glared out at me from those inky eyes had not been a Wyvern.

I had no idea what it was. It had almost broken loose over a shardingdream. Although I now had a pretty good grasp of what it had been about.

The woman was beautiful—in a tiny kind of way. Very different from a Dragona, but her delicacy called to me. She was also clever. I’d give her that. She’d come up with the only plan that might work. A gamble, true, but we’d pulled it off.

Together.

Both my monster and my beast fell silent, as shocked as I was by the truth ringing through that simple word. Before I shoved it away, rejecting it outright.

Women were for fucking. That was all.

I scanned the skies, but they remained empty. With their winged transport now dead, the Dires would have to find a way down the falls on foot. And it would take the rest of the Isobitch’s recruited Dragons a while to get here.

For now, I was alone.

It gave me an opportunity. I could leave them all to it. Marcus and the woman might still get away without me. I could find a cave to hole up in until dark, then fly to the closest town myself. I might get caught, but as long as the pinions were in small groups—and if they weren’t, then that was that.

All I needed was a fucking gate, and I’d be out of here. I gave myself even odds on making it.

I’d have had no chance at all, now or in the future, if Isobel or her bitch coven had been in the mix for this latest battle. But they hadn’t been. The Isobitch herself could have leveled me with one blast of that bloodmagic to my collar. This grab attempt had my ex-boss’s signature all over it. Brock’s solution was always to apply more muscle.

For which my Deranger thanked him.

A tickle at my neck assured me that Fang had made it through another battle unscathed. But she kept at it.

“Cuts its out,” I snarled.

She’d never been good at following orders. She continued to tickle, and I gritted my teeth. She needn’t have bothered. Even the thought of leaving Riley with Marcus and finding my own luck had both my monster and my beast screaming within me.

The monster and human in me were usually in near-perfect agreement. But this time, the Deranger would fight me on this, I could tell.

It wanted her.

But if I went after them now, I’d grab her and haul her into the sky. Hopefully, she’d oblige me by transforming to her beast, but if she didn’t—

I wasn’t sure what would happen then. Even the thought of her—of those bright yellow scales I’d glimpsed chasing over her lithe body—had me rigid and aching.

Fucking hell.

---