Dragonfury 02 - Fury of Ice
The globes swayed, bobbing like jellyfish against the cavern’s ceiling as Rikar flew beneath them. White scales gleamed in the low light, throwing starbursts of iridescent color across stalagmites and uneven stone walls. He didn’t notice the rainbow. Didn’t hear his claws scrape granite or the water rolling off his wing tips go splat on the landing zone’s floor. His focus was absolute. Only one thing mattered.
He was going to kill the male. Open him up like a can of sardines. All while making him sing like a canary.
Lucky for him, he didn’t have far to go.
The rogue was chained seven stories beneath Black Diamond, the home Rikar shared with the other Nightfury dragons. That the enemy was within easy reach should’ve pleased him. But nothing could bliss him out tonight. The battle—the retrieve and retreat routine—had FUBAR written all over it. Yeah, a total catastrophe from beginning to end. The only good thing about it? Bastian had his female back, had pulled her from enemy claws in the nick of time.
He should be happy about that. Throwing high fives with his fellow warriors and yakking it up, reliving the action over tequila shots and lime wedges. But, that was a definite no-can-do. Not tonight. Not when another female was missing.
Right. Missing .
Wishful fucking thinking.
Rikar’s stomach fisted up hard. The Razorbacks had taken her. He knew it like he was standing there, four paws planted on stone, horns on his head tingling, anguish pumping through his veins with every beat of his heart. Now she was in the hands of his enemy, at the mercy of Ivar, leader of the rogues.
With a growl, he tucked his wings and stepped over the beat-to-shit Honda in the middle of the LZ, trying not to think about what the bastards were doing to her. But God help him, he couldn’t turn his brain off. Couldn’t breathe without his imagination firing up, planting terrible images in his mind’s eye.
Christ, he needed to get her back. Had to locate the Razorback lair and pull her free before…
Rikar swallowed the burn at the back of his throat. What a total mind-fuck. The need. The obsession. The pain.
He’d only met the female once. Had spent a couple of hours getting his ass kicked by her in a friendly game of pool. Okay, so he was lying. He’d done a little more than that. But he refused to think about the feeding or how good she tasted. Rikar shook his head, and water flew as he tried to forget. His behavior. Her acceptance. The fact his frosty side wanted more, another go-round with a female that drew pure power from the Meridian. From the energy source that fed Dragonkind.
Which made him…what? A sicko? A male without honor or conscience? Yeah, without a doubt. The female he didn’t want to remember, but couldn’t forget, was missing. Was probably in hell right now, suffering at the hands of a Razorback, and what was he doing? Dreaming of her in ways he shouldn’t be.
Angela Keen. She of the gorgeous energy and hazel eyes. God, he wanted her back. He wanted her safe. He wanted the clock to spin in the opposite direction and undo the last three hours. Maybe then he could’ve prevented his enemies from taking her at all.
Her name whispered through his mind. A shiver rolled through him, rattling the spikes along his spine as he pictured her face. With a violent swipe, he tried to erase it like their resident computer genius deleted info from computer hard drives. But memory was a tricky thing: hard to control, impossible to ignore. And as the power of recall got busy planting images inside his head, Rikar accepted the truth. He wished he’d stayed with her that night, taken all she offered and given more in return.
Which was just plain wrong. In every way that mattered.
Wind rushed in from the tunnel mouth, kicking up dust and the smell of damp earth. A second later, green scales flashed in his periphery. Rikar shifted, moving from dragon to human, getting out of Venom’s way as the big male set down. Poised on his back paws, his buddy wing-flapped, sending water flying and air rushing, making the light globes bump into their neighbors seventy-five feet above their heads.
Rikar conjured his clothes. Leather settled against his skin, feeling like home as he stomped his foot into his boot and headed for the entrance into the lair. He glanced over his shoulder at his friend. “You coming?”
“Hell, yeah.” Scales undulating over thick muscle, Venom indulged in
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