Page 35 of Tempest Blazing
"We don't have time for this dick-measuring contest," I muttered, hating how helpless I sounded. "She's out there, and whoever did this knows she's human. Vulnerable."
Ciaran rose slowly, shadows still writhing around him like living things. His silver eyes never left mine, and I saw something shift in their depths. Not forgiveness—we were too far past that—but recognition. We both wanted the same thing.
"If you know where she is," he said, voice deadly quiet, "I can get us there. But you follow my lead."
The words scraped against every instinct I'd developed through my military and private security work. I didn't follow. I led. I controlled the situation, the variables, the outcome. Yielding to someone else—especially someone whose power I couldn't fully gauge—went against everything that had kept me alive this long.
But if it meant getting to Tess faster...
"Only if it gets us to her," I said.
The air shifted around us as we moved toward the exit—reluctant allies bound by desperation and a shared purpose that felt bigger than either of our egos.
Get Tess back.
Everything else could wait.
Chapter 15
Tess
The world snapped back into focus with a jarring clarity that made my teeth ache. One moment I'd been falling through that suffocating darkness, the next I was standing in what looked like a luxury hotel suite—all cream marble and gilt edges, with furniture that probably cost more than my yearly salary.
The elegance was a lie. Something crawled under my skin, wrong and thick. The air pressed against me like water. I reached for Thalon through our bond and hit... nothing. Not silence—that would have been terrifying enough. This was worse. Cotton. Everything dampened and distant. Even scarier was the absence where Mason's bond should have been, like someone had taken scissors to that connection.
"Thalon?"Panic clawed up my throat.
Nothing.
My chest squeezed tight. Each breath came shorter than the last. This was it. Strange room, no idea where I was or what was happening. The escalating danger I'd felt building around the Library—the intruders, the attacks, that sense of something closing in. And Draven... oh god, Draven was still at the coffee shop, probably losing his mind when he realized I'd vanished.
"The wards are quite effective, aren't they?"
I spun toward the voice, heart hammering against my ribs. Garanth Kreel lounged against the far wall, his slate-gray skin almost bleeding into the shadows. Those red eyes gleamed like he was watching his favorite show. I recognized his voice immediately—the same tone from the coffee shop. But now, without his human mask, I could see the monster underneath.
"Where—" My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Where am I?"
"Somewhere safe." His smirk showed too many sharp teeth. "For now."
Ice water in my veins. I was definitely not safe. But before I could demand answers, the main door opened with a soft click that sounded like a coffin closing.
Seven feet of controlled menace walked in like he owned the world—which, given the circumstances, he probably did. Expensive suit, ashen skin marked with those glowing cracks that pulsed like a heartbeat. The smell of brimstone followed him, along with cold that made the air itself flinch.
"Miss Whittaker." His voice was cultured, almost warm. Wrong. "I trust you're comfortable? I'm Dominick Graves."
I wanted to laugh. Or scream. Instead, I forced myself to stand straighter, to meet those obsidian eyes without flinching. Years of Mom's psychological games had taught me a few things about not showing weakness.
"Comfortable isn't the word I'd use," I said, grateful my voice stayed steady. "And I'm guessing you didn't kidnap me just to chat about my accommodations. What do you want?"
Desperation made me stupid. "Does this have something to do with my oral history project? I was just interviewing Garanth for—"
Both men laughed, sharp and mocking. Dominick's chuckle was particularly unsettling—rich and amused, like I'd told the world's best joke.
"Oh, my dear girl." Dominick wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "Your little academic project? How wonderfully naive." He began to circle me, slow and deliberate, like a shark. "No, Miss Whittaker. You're here for something far more... personal. You see, it's not every day we encounter a human bonded to a dragon."
The clinical way he said it made my stomach turn. Like I was a lab rat. "Why don't you find out for yourself what that feels like?"
Garanth snorted from his corner. "Feisty little thing, isn't she?"
