Page 70 of The Dragon's Captured Heart
“What’s going on here?” someone said from the door with authority in their voice.
“I’m looking for Cleye,” I said, moving from room to room. “He has something that belongs to me.”
A hand landed on my shoulder, spinning me around. I found myself facing Jair, head of the sovereign’s personal guard. “Why are you breaking into his quarters, Callum?”
“My mate,” I growled, meeting Jair’s eyes and not letting go.
“I don’t mean to be callous,” he said, eyes softening. “But isn’t Noa dead?”
“My new mate,” I said, shrugging free of his grip. “Now, get out of my way. I will find him, no matter what it takes.”
Jair sighed. “You can’t break into other people’s quarters, Cal.”
“He has her!” I roared, catching Jair off guard with the ferocity. “And I don’t know why. But I intend to find out. Now, either help me or get out of my way.”
“We’ll find him,” Jair said. “But you can’t go around breaking down doors to do so. Come on.”
“I haven’t finished searching the rooms,” I pointed out.
Jair rolled his eyes. “He’s not in the kitchen, Cal. Come on.”
I knew that, too. But I still intended to search it.
“I’m going to look in the kitchen,” I said coldly. “Then I’ll go.”
Jair shook his head. “No,” he said sternly. “You’re leaving.Now.”
I pushed him aside and strode toward the opening. Jair grabbed me by the shoulder once more. I spun and swung at him, all in one move.
The guard commander saw it coming from a mile away and dodged. Then he hit me in the chest. Hard.
I flung backward into the wall—
And went right through it.
Stone crumbled all around me, dust and debris raining down.
“What the fuck?” Jair’s voice could be heard through the surprise.
“There’s a secret room in here,” I said, coughing as I got back on my feet.
That was when the stench hit me. Only one thing smelled like that, and anyone who’d ever smelled it would never mistake it again.
Death.
Spinning around, I called flame into my palm, lighting the darkened room.
“Jair,” I growled as I found the source. “You’d better get in here.”
In the flickering light of the flames in my palm, the swollen, bloated corpse of Dyson stared back at me.
We’d found the missing palace guard. He hadn’t run away after all.
Cleye had killed him.
My fear for Madison’s well-being had suddenly turned scarily accurate.
Chapter Thirty-Five
