Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
KILL WITHOUT MERCY (ARES SECURITY) BY ALEXANDRA IVY
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
About the Author
Scorched by Darkness © 2016 by by Debbie Raleigh.
Editor: Julia Ganis
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.
http://alexandraivy.com
Scorched by Darkness
Dragons of Eternity Book Two
Alexandra Ivy
CHAPTER ONE
Torque was in the zone.
That perfect place where he was intimately connected to his inner dragon and capable of seeing the world with a sharp, acutely brilliant focus.
Moving with liquid grace, he crossed the vast training room with a complex pattern of leaps, kicks, and lightning-fast punches. Fire danced over his skin, leaving scorch marks on the granite floor. He might be a half-breed, but his dragon was particularly strong, allowing him to create enough heat to melt through stone if he wasn’t careful.
He was also capable of creating small portals, masking his presence, and killing most creatures with his bare hands. And he had a unique gift of being able to conjure tiny sparks that he could send anywhere in the world. Not a particularly valuable talent, but he’d more than once used them to distract his enemies long enough to gain the upper hand.
Turning to finish his daily routine, Torque found his concentration wavering as a flicker of movement appeared near the door.
“Not now,” he growled, leaping high enough to grab the ring hanging from the ceiling.
With a fierce surge of power he was swinging forward, releasing the ring to arc through the air, landing lightly on his feet before he was spinning to kick at the punching bag attached to a steel bar.
“You’re wanted,” a familiar male voice drawled.
Char.
Like Torque, the male was a half-breed dragon who was in the service of Baine, but that’s where the similarities ended.
Torque was a trained solider with short dark hair and brilliant blue eyes. Char was a personal companion to Baine, which meant he had the ability to partially shift into his dragon-form. He had silver hair and gray eyes that turned from smoke to charcoal depending on his mood.
The older male also preferred elegant suits, while Torque wore the plain black uniform of a guard, or casual jeans and sweaters when he wasn’t on duty.
Even their personalities were different. Char was sly, sardonic and charming. The sort of male who took pleasure in laughing at the world. Torque, on the other hand, was far more serious. He devoted himself to duty, and keeping his fighting skills at peak condition.
“Wanted by whom?” Torque demanded, whirling to give the bag another kick. “You?”
Char gave a short laugh. “You should be so lucky.”
“Yeah, right.” Another kick. “According to the harem, there’s no luck needed to capture your desire. You spread your interest far and wide.”
“True.” Char deliberately paused. “But I draw the line at an irritable soldier who thinks a romantic night is kicking bags and lifting weights. Give me a warm woman spread across satin sheets and a cold glass of champagne.”
Torque hissed in frustration, slowly turning to face the male who was leaning nonchalantly against the doorjamb. Clearly he wasn’t going to get any peace until he could get rid of the unwelcomed intruder.
“Are you going to tell me why you interrupted my training?” he snapped.
Char watched as Torque grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat from his body, tendrils of smoke still clinging to his damp skin.
“Baine had a visit from his father’s emissary,” he said.
Torque scowled. Baine had walked away from his father, Synge, centuries ago. Dragon family dynamics were explosive to say the least. Many were downright homicidal. But since Baine had found his mate, the two had started a cautious relationship.
Which meant it wasn’t entirely unheard of for Synge to send a messenger.
“And?”
“And now he’s asking for you to come to the throne room.”
“A Council meeting?”
“No. Just you.” The gray eyes darkened with something that might have been regret. “I think it’s that time.”
A chill raced down Torque’s spine. He knew the end was drawing near. His betrothed had been born a hundred years ago on this precise date. Which meant she was considered a mature female. Ready for mating.
But he’d done his best to block out the thought of his looming fate.
“Now?” he breathed.
Char grimaced. “Sorry, dude.”
Torque turned away. He felt trapped. Had someone put a noose around his neck when he wasn’t looking and started to squeeze?
“Tell the master I’ll join him after I bathe,” he muttered, making a straight line for the side door that led to the locker rooms.
Stripping off his gi, he tossed it on the floor and stepped into a pool overlaid with black and gold tiles. This room was like much of the lair.
Opulent. Lush. Brimming with priceless artifacts.
Dragons were jealous hoarders of beautiful objects, and their homes were a reflection of their status. The more treasure, the greater their power.
There was no doubt that Baine was at the top of the food chain.
He was also a remarkably fair master to his small army of servants. Not that he was weak. Hell, he could be as arrogant and temperamental as the next dragon. But he wasn’t unnecessarily cruel.
Something that’d earned Torque’s unwavering loyalty over the past century.
Which made this day all the more difficult to endure.
Walking into the center of the bath, Torque sank into the hot water and scrubbed himself clean before leaving the pool. Standing on the tiles, he released a small burst of heat, drying his skin before a robed servant managed to scurry forward to hand him the neatly pressed uniform.
Torque silently pulled on the clothing, his dark thoughts clouding his mind.
He wasn’t entirely sure why he was feeling as if he’d been hit by a freight train. Actually, he’d been hit by a freight train not long after they’d returned to this world and it hadn’t been nearly so stunning.
Sore. Yes. And aggravated with Char for daring him to stand on the tracks. But not shocked to the point it was difficult to think.
Now he muttered a low curse.
He was being a fool. His destiny had been decided decades ago. No. It’d been longer than that. After all, he’d known he wouldn’t have control of his future after his dragon father, Pyre, had bartered him into service to pay a debt to Synge.
At the time he’d assumed he would live out his life as a guard for the ancient drago
n. Not an uncommon fate for a half-breed. And one that he’d spent his younger years preparing to excel at. If he had to be a glorified servant, then by god, he was going to be a great glorified servant.
Then Synge’s favorite concubine had a vision of the future and his entire life had been turned upside down.
Squaring his shoulders, he forced himself to leave the locker room. No point in putting off the inevitable.
Baine was less inclined to death and bloody mayhem than other dragons, but his patience wasn’t his greatest asset.
A wise servant didn’t keep him waiting.
Pressing open the door, he stepped into the hallway only to come to a sharp halt at the sight of Char leaning against the wall.
“What are you doing here?”
The male straightened with a shrug. “I thought I would walk with you.”
Torque scowled. “Was the master afraid I might bolt?”
Char cocked a brow several shades darker than his silvery-blond hair. “Baine assumes that his servants are eager to obey his every command.”
Yeah, that was true enough. Probably because every servant was eager to obey his every command.
Heading down the hall, Torque slid a sideways glance at the male who fell into step beside him.
“Then why are you escorting me?”
Char offered one of his most charming smiles. The one that could make an entire harem giggle like a pack of hyenas.
“I assume you’ll be leaving us today,” he said. “Since we’ve been together for over a century, I thought we should have a moment together.”
Torque rolled his eyes, turning onto a main corridor lined with priceless tapestries, as well as several guards who stood at rigid attention.
“Could this day get any worse?”
Char chuckled, his gaze watching him with a keen intensity.
“You know, most males are eager to be united with their mates,” he murmured.
Torque’s spine stiffened. It was a subject he never discussed. Not with anyone.
But as Char pointed out, he’d soon be leaving.
There didn’t seem any point in keeping it a secret.
“Rya isn’t my mate,” he denied. “At least not my true mate.”
Char looked more curious than surprised. Unlike many immortals, dragons often chose their consorts to consolidate their power base or to increase their hoard. They could mate on an emotional and primal level. Baine was proof of that. But the solitary nature of their beasts, not to mention their violent tendencies, made it less likely they would find true love.
“Then why are you betrothed to her?”
“Her mother is a Shinto,” he said.
Char released a low whistle. “Very rare.”
They were. The Shinto were a reclusive clan of fey who resided in the deepest forests throughout Asia. They were elusive creatures who avoided contact with the more predatory species. Especially dragons, who prized them for their ability to catch glimpses of the future.
“Yes.”
“No wonder Synge was willing to offer her a home.” Char’s gaze narrowed. “In fact…”
Torque cocked a brow as his companion’s words trailed away.
“What?”
“Not to be a prick, but Synge could have negotiated a fortune for her,” Char said. “Why choose a half-breed who doesn’t want her?”
“She’s not a full Shinto,” Torque pointed out. Synge was an old-school dragon. He pillaged, he rampaged, and he used his half-breed children as bargaining chips. “Besides, her mother had a vision during her pregnancy that Rya would mate the son of Pyre with the eyes of sapphire, and that together we would discover Synge’s lost treasure.”
“You were in a vision?” Char gave a slow blink. “Nice.”
Torque snorted. “Not really.”
“So what’s the treasure?”
“Synge refuses to say. But clearly he’s convinced it’s worth binding us together.”
There were a few minutes of silence as they neared the towering double doors made of ebony and inlaid with gold.
“At least she’s beautiful,” Char at last murmured.
An odd flare of annoyance sizzled through Torque. His betrothed wasn’t beautiful, she was hauntingly exquisite. Long, satin black hair that she wore in a complicated braid down her back. A perfect oval face. Skin the color of dark honey. Almond-shaped eyes that glowed with the same amber power as Baine. And a tall, slender body that moved with a mesmerizing grace.
But while he’d naturally had a brief meeting during their formal betrothal ceremony fifty years ago, and even placed his personal mark on her back, no other male was supposed to be appreciating her attractions.
Wasn’t that the whole point of a harem?
“You’ve met her?”
Char’s lips twitched as if aware of Torque’s bizarre reaction.
“I’ve seen her from afar. She’s—”
Mine.
The word whispered through the back of Torque’s mind even as he interrupted his friend.
“She’s suitably attractive,” he muttered, deliberately adding an edge of reluctance in his voice.
“But?” Char prompted.
“But I’m a trained soldier, not a treasure hunter,” Torque answered, back on familiar ground. He didn’t want to think about the nights the image of Rya had crept into his dreams. No, he far preferred to dwell on his brooding sense of injustice. “Not to mention the fact that I prefer to choose my own women.”
“Have faith, my friend,” Char murmured. “The universe brings us happiness when we least expect it.”
Torque glanced toward his companion. “When did you become a philosopher?”
Char flashed his smile. “I’m a dragon of many talents.”
“And an ego to match.”
“Hey, if I don’t appreciate my many fine qualities, who will?” Char reached out to lightly grab Torque’s shoulder. “Torque, take care. And if you have need of me, you only have to reach out.”
Torque dipped his head in acknowledgement of the genuine offer. The two males might be complete opposites, but they’d formed an unbreakable bond over the past hundred years.
Waiting for Char to turn away, Torque pushed open one of the doors and stepped into the throne room.
It was just as opulent as might be expected for the formal reception area of a dragon. Nearly three hundred feet long, it had ivory walls inset with mirrors. Overhead the ceiling was painted with a whimsical mural of Aladdin, and in the center, a priceless Venetian chandelier spread a pool of light over the glossy wooden floor.
At the far end a pair of gilded thrones were set on a raised dais where Baine and his mate, Tayla, were waiting for him.
The full-blooded dragon had straight black hair that framed a narrow face, and almond-shaped eyes that smoldered with an amber fire. As usual Baine was wearing a loose pair of dojo pants that revealed the tattoos that crawled over his skin with a metallic shimmer. The markings were more than just decorative. They represented the enormous amount of knowledge the dragon had managed to accumulate over the long centuries.
He was as much a scholar as a warrior.
The female imp next to him had dark gold hair with hints of fire in the silken strands. Her face was pale and dominated by a pair of light green eyes with fissures of jade.
Her beauty was obvious, but everyone in the lair knew it was her gentle soul and boundless capacity to love that had captured Baine’s wary heart.
Waiting for Baine to give a small flick of his fingers, Torque walked up the narrow crimson carpet. With every step forward the pulse of the male’s power grew more pronounced. The dragon might be sprawled on his throne like an indolent pasha, but only a fool would miss his magic that thundered in the air.
Falling to his knees at the edge of the dais, Torque bent his head in respect.
“Master.”
There was a sigh from the tiny woman at Baine’s side. “You really have to do something about that.”
/> Baine glanced toward his lovely mate. “What?”
“Master.” Tayla rolled her eyes.
“It’s my title.” Baine shrugged. “At least I don’t make my servants crawl on their knees.”
“Do other dragons do that?” the imp demanded.
Baine shrugged. “Of course.”
Tayla gave a click of her tongue. “Really, we need to have a training seminar to educate your people on how to treat servants. It’s not nice to go around terrifying your loyal staff. And don’t even get me started on the breathing fire thing.”
Baine’s lips twitched. “You didn’t mind me breathing fire last night.”
The imp flushed, even as her eyes twinkled with remembered pleasure. “That was different.”
“Did you call for me?” Torque intruded into the teasing banter.
He deeply respected his master, and the entire lair adored the sweet imp he’d taken as his mate, but Torque’s nerves were at the point of snapping.
Now that his destiny had arrived, he just wanted to get it over with.
“I did,” Baine said, his rare smile vanishing.
The noose tightened around Torque’s throat.
“I’m prepared for my fate,” he managed to say.
“Actually, there’s been a small detour in your fate.”
Torque lifted his head, studying Baine in confusion. “What does that mean?”
“My father contacted me this morning to inform me that your future consort is missing.”
Torque slowly rose to his feet. He’d been expecting to be led directly to the portal that would transport him to Synge’s lair.
Now he frowned, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
“Missing? I don’t understand,” he muttered.
“She can’t be found.”
“But…” Torque gave a shake of his head. “I thought she was in the harem?”
Baine shrugged. “That’s what everyone thought.”
“Has she been taken by force?”
“No.”
Torque’s frown deepened, his stab of fear fading as a hint of anger sparked in the pit of his stomach.
“Then what happened?” he demanded.
“From what has been discovered, she slipped away unnoticed.”