Page 147 of Centaur Bolt

Mates.They were mates.

The final team member was a towering red-skinned ogress who looked like she could smash a mountain with her fist. And sniffing around their feet was a canid wearing a battle harness.

If this was an example of the teams the academy was generating, it was an interesting mix. Then the woman turned her head, and I saw her face more clearly. She had bicolored eyes, and a face that was startlingly familiar. Feminine, where his was wider, more masculine.

Fucking hell.She looked like—

I’d taken a step toward her when Tyrez moved in on me from behind.

“Can you hold it together long enough to show us where the dungeon is?” he asked.

“No,” I replied. “Not if there is fighting.”

His brows dropped. “It’s at the back of the building?”

I considered what I’d seen and sensed while held captive down there. “Access is off the ground floor of the expansive house. Central hall would be my guess. There are stairs going down to the cave complex. She’s got a fucking gate down there, too.”

His mouth straightened, and he glanced at Cody. Who hurried over to the recon team.

“I’m tasking them with finding and rescuing Rafael,” Tyrez explained.

“She’s his sister, isn’t she?” It was a guess, but I saw it strike home.

“Yes.” The big Dragon eyed me. “They are twins.”

Twins. The information hit me far harder than it should.

“I suspect Isobel is gone. And she might have taken Rafael with her,” Tyrez stated, watching me.

“She values him,” I agreed. “Or rather, what he can do. I don’t think she’d leave him behind.”

Tyrez watched the mercenaries scurrying around below. “Considering that most are likely inside, we are outnumbered. We do need what you offer. But we also need some left alive.”

The Deranger pushed at me, sensing that its time was close. “If you want some left alive,” I said, “I suggest you spend your resources saving them.”

His lips actually twitched. “One Dragon cannot take on their army.”

I grinned at him. By the way his eyes widened, it was more of a snarl.

“Just watch me,” I said.

* * *

My monster drank in the death, and was reborn.

The power poured into me, engorged me, fulfilled me. All the uncertainty vanished beneath the rage.

I didn’t fight alone. I was vaguely aware of the Sabres, Dires, and Dragons with me. Tyrez’s mate turned out to be a Mover—she hurled bits and pieces of things straight through the mercenaries, mowing them down.

I drank from their deaths, too.

The Sabre shifters transformed into huge, thousand-pound felines armed with catlike fangs and wicked claws. They fought not as animals would, but as a unit. The few Dires we had with us battled alongside and used their superior speed to dart in and out from their larger cohorts.

The Legion Dragons were warriors with purpose, slicing fluidly through the mercenaries and working in perfect unison with our small group of Bellatis. They were all superior warriors to Isobel’s motley crew, but even with much of it already dispersed to their new location, we were greatly outnumbered.

Or would have been if it weren’t for me. I blasted straight into the seething horde and dispensed the justice I’d dreamed of. A few times, Tyrez and his brother loomed up on each side to redirect me when I threatened to mistake friend for foe.

Understandable. I had no friends. But in this gig, it was helpful not to slaughter the teammates.

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