Intoxicating excitement bubbled through her blood, making her lightheaded.
That was the only reason her fingers were curling into the fabric of his T-shirt to pull him closer to her trembling body. Right?
Of course, that didn’t explain why her lips were parting as his tongue stroked into her mouth. Or why she was arching upward in a silent invitation.
But at the moment, she couldn’t make herself care.
Not when he was tugging on her hair to tilt back her head. And his roaming lips were taking advantage of her exposed neck to plant dozens of kisses down to the pulse that thundered at the base of her throat.
Oh…lord.
She shivered as his heat danced over her skin. She could smell his dragon in the air. Taste him lingering on her tongue.
Such raw, ruthless power.
It was enough to make any female melt into a puddle of gooey need.
As she wrapped her arms around his neck, Rya’s lashes were fluttering downward when she caught sight of a gathering darkness out of the corner of her mind.
She stiffened, turning her head as the darkness spread, heading toward them at a frightening speed.
“Torque,” she cried in warning.
His arms tightened around her. “I’ve got you,” he muttered, cloaking them both in the power of his dragon.
Rya released her own inner dragon. It wasn’t as strong as Torque’s, but the two easily melded together, creating a blaze of magic as the darkness washed over them.
CHAPTER SIX
Torque held Rya in his arms, protecting her with his larger body as the blackness swept over them. There was the sensation of being whisked through dimensions. Not a portal.
Just pure magic.
Heat prickled over his skin. It didn’t feel like a threat. It was more a brush of curiosity. Then slowly the darkness receded and a soft glow of light revealed a large room that looked like it’d been carved out of stone.
With a muttered curse, he set Rya on her feet and stepped back. He didn’t want to let go of her, but he needed space to fight.
Spinning in a circle, he searched for a hidden enemy, flames dancing over his skin.
When nothing leaped out of the shadows, he returned his attention to his companion even as his senses remained on high alert. Nothing would be allowed to sneak up on them.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She pushed her hair from her face, her own power thick in the air. As fragile as she might look, she was still a dragon-shifter. She was far from helpless. “What happened?”
“I…” His words faltered as he allowed himself to truly take in their surroundings. “Shit,” he breathed.
“Torque?” Rya murmured in confusion.
He shook his head, studying the familiar black leather couch and matching chair that was set near a large, stone fireplace.
“It’s not possible,” he muttered, crossing the barren floor to touch the leather-bound books that filled the wooden shelves on one wall.
“What’s not possible?”
He pivoted back to meet Rya’s worried gaze.
“These are my private quarters,” he told her. “Or at least the illusion of my lair.”
Widening her eyes, she glanced around with blatant curiosity.
“It feels real,” she said, studying the large space before lifting toward the vaulted ceiling. “Did you create it?”
“I don’t have the power. As far as I know, only a full dragon can produce an imprint,” he admitted, referring to a dragon’s ability to tap into a person’s mind to create a space that echoed their personal lair.
They could also call on a creature’s deepest fantasy or their worst nightmare, depending on the dragon’s mood.
Thankfully, he’d never been subjected to that particular torture.
Rya’s brows pulled together. “You did say the maze felt like dragon-magic.”
He moved toward the deep hearth with a rough wooden mantel built over it. Char had often teased him for enjoying a roaring fire while he read a book in peaceful solitude. He was half dragon, after all. He could create his own flames.
Was it possible that his love for the roaring heat came from his mother? He gave a sharp shake of his head. Dammit. He hadn’t thought about his mother in decades. Now wasn’t the time to start.
Instead, he concentrated on his companion’s words, recalling the distinct power that’d sizzled around him as he’d searched for Rya’s essence that was lost in the ice.
“Yes,” he said. “I don’t know why, but there was a definite dragon vibe.”
She nodded, accepting his vague explanation without question.
Nothing short of a miracle.
“Your father?”
Torque shook his head, glancing toward the small gift from Baine’s mate that was set on a low table. The delicate pewter figure had sapphire chips as the eyes and a scroll in one hand. Tayla had adamantly ignored his assurance that he had no desire for a dragon’s hoard, revealing that she’d had the gift personally made for him.
That knowledge had made him treasure the little figurine.
“Doubtful. The details are far too perfect,” he said, his lips twisting at the mere thought of his father wasting his energy creating anything that didn’t gain him an obvious advantage. “Like Synge, my father has always concentrated on honing his battle skills. He’s a big believer in the ‘might makes right’ philosophy.”
Rya nodded in understanding. She might have lived in a separate harem, but she would be well aware that her father ruled with brute strength.
“What about your master? I’ve heard that he is far more…civilized than most dragons.”
Torque gave a short laugh. Baine and civilized should never be spoken in the same sentence. Still, she was right that the younger dragon had a reputation for subtle cunning.
“Baine has the skill, but I would recognize his power,” he assured her.
She gave a slow nod. “So it has to be another dragon.”
“Or an enemy who wants us to let down our guard,” he pointed out, not willing to take anything for granted.
She wrinkled her nose. “Neither thought is very comforting.”
Without hesitation he was moving the short distance to wrap her in his arms. Instantly something eased deep inside him.
As if he wasn’t quite…settled without the feel of her warmth pressed against him.
Which was ridiculous, of course. But for now he didn’t question the odd sensation.
“Nothing’s going to happen to you, Rya,” he swore in low tones. “I’ve pledged my life to protect you.”
For a moment she leaned against his chest, seeming to take comfort in his embrace. Then, without warning, she became rigid in his arms, her scent changing as she tilted back her head to glare at him.
“More duty?” she demanded.
He studied her tight expression with a puzzled frown. He’d been trying to offer her comfort, but clearly he’d done something wrong.
“Why does that word bother you?”
“Who said it does?”
He made a sound of impatience. “I’m not very good at reading minds, but you smell like scorched lotus blossoms when you’re angry.”
She jutted her chin, her eyes a rich amber in the muted light. “I don’t like the knowledge that you see me as a constant burden.”
“A burden?” What the hell was she talking about?
She hunched her shoulders. “What else would you call a duty?”
He reached up to lightly touch her cheek. Inwardly he cursed his past mistakes. He’d made her feel unwanted. Now she doubted every word he said to her.
“My duty toward you isn’t a burden, Rya. It’s a sacred promise,” he murmured in a soft voice, considering his words with care. “One that is etched upon my soul. What could be more important?”
She didn’t look entirely convinced. “That still doesn’t change the fact you were forced into the betrothal.”
“Jus
t as you were,” he gently reminded her. “But while our meeting was fated by your mother’s vision, how we choose to build our relationship from here is entirely in our hands. I think we could create something very, very special.”
“Oh.” Something vulnerable flared through her eyes as a warm flushed touched her cheeks. “Torque—”
“Shh.” He pressed a finger against her lips as he felt the approach of an intruder. “Someone’s coming.”
Pulling back, he started to pivot toward the entryway, when Rya suddenly reached out to grasp his arm.
“Wait.” She frowned as he turned his head to meet her narrowed gaze. “You get to put yourself in danger, but I can’t?”
“Exactly,” he agreed, wondering why she’d asked such a foolish question. Gently he tugged his arm free of her grip. “Stay here.”
She growled low in her throat. “This conversation isn’t done, mister,” she warned.
“Mister?”
She shrugged. “It’s better than jackass.”
Torque headed out of the main living chamber with a shake of his head. Rya was without a doubt the most complex, aggravating creature he’d ever met.
Or maybe it was just the emotions she inspired that were aggravating.
After all, he’d spent his entire existence pretending that he didn’t have feelings. That was what was expected of a warrior in his father’s lair. It made life much easier.
Now he didn’t know what to do with the tangled mess of emotions.
“Females,” he muttered, moving through the small entryway and into the corridor that was a perfect match for the one in Baine’s lair.
“Yes.” A lightly accented voice murmured before there was a shimmer of magic and a small creature appeared before him. The stranger had a pretty oval face with long, brilliant red hair and odd, pale eyes dotted with flecks of color like opals. “I believe I am a female.”
“Shit.” Torque spread his feet and squared his shoulders, prepared to be attacked.
The power pulsing in the air was heavy. Thunderous.
Ancient.
The intruder, however, did nothing more than smooth her hands down the linen robe that covered her slender body.
“Language,” she chided, the air filled with pinpricks of heat.
Torque gave a cautious nod of his head. The female was a delicate wisp, and her pale features made her look as if she was still barely more than a foundling. But he wasn’t stupid.
A dragon could take any form they wanted. And this one had the sort of presence that only came from a very old creature who wielded an unimaginable magic.
It seemed best to treat her with a wary respect.
“Forgive me,” he murmured.
The threatening power eased as her eyes suddenly twinkled with starbursts of color.
“Of course.” She seemed to float forward, patting him on the cheek. “I do adore a handsome male. There was one…” Her words trailed away, her voice becoming distant. “So long ago.”
Torque remained wary. Dragons were fickle creatures who could go from charming to lethal in the blink of an eye.
“I’m Torque, son of Pyre,” he said, waving his hand toward the doorway behind him. “My companion is Rya, daughter of—”
The female interrupted his introduction. “Synge.”
Torque instinctively stepped to the side, blocking the doorway with his body. Not that he could hope to stop the female if she wanted to get to Rya. He wasn’t sure even his powerful father could match this dragon in a fair fight. “Do you know her?” he demanded.
The woman blinked in confusion, the colors dimming in her eyes to leave them oddly opaque.
“Of course not.”
Okay. Torque cleared his throat. He was sensing there was something not entirely…stable about the female.
“Can you tell me where we are?” he asked, keeping his voice light.
He feared if he pressed her too hard, she might disappear.
Or worse, turn him into a crispy critter.
“No.” She glanced around, as if confused by the sight of the wide corridor and high ceiling. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“It wasn’t our intention to intrude,” he rushed to assure her. “We were searching for Rya’s missing mother when we were trapped in the ice.”
She frowned, perhaps silently testing his words to search for any hint of deception. Finally, she tilted back her head and sucked in a deep breath.
“A portal,” she abruptly said.
He nodded. “Yes. It was a portal that brought us here.”
“How?” Her frown deepened. “It doesn’t smell of you.”
“No.” He shrugged. “It was formed by an unknown enemy who has been kidnapping frost sprites along with a Shinto female.” She continued to frown and he was struck by a sudden thought. “Oh, and it was kept open by a miniature gargoyle.”
The dragon looked at him as if he was some sort of whackadoodle.
“A miniature gargoyle?”
Torque grimaced. “Yeah.”
“Have you taken a blow to the head?” she demanded.
“It does sound…” Torque struggled for the right word. “Unlikely.”
The dragon tilted her head to the side, and Torque was hit by a sudden suspicion. Was she listening to voices he couldn’t hear?
Time passed, but Torque wisely bit his tongue. She’d speak when she was ready.
At last she focused her full attention on him.
“You said frost sprites have been brought to this place.”
“We believe so,” he said. “We were searching for them when we were sucked through the portal. Of course, we haven’t actually seen them.”
She gave a click of her tongue, her luminous beauty marred by an expression of irritation.
“Such an annoyance,” she announced.
It was a hell of a lot more than annoying. Still, Torque was careful to keep his expression bland. Until he knew more about this female he was going to treat her with excessive courtesy.
Dragons were oddly OCD about good manners.
“Excuse me, but are you trapped here as well?” he asked.
She considered for a long moment. “In a manner of speaking.”
He was assuming that meant ‘yes.’
“Then perhaps we can work together to find a way out,” he suggested.
The scent of warm cinnamon filled the air, the female’s brilliant hair floating on an unseen breeze.
It was eerie as hell. Torque felt his skin prickle with unease.
“I can’t leave,” she told him.
“Why not?”
“I don’t remember,” she said, her tone puzzled rather than angered.
Torque paused. His first instinct was right. This dragon was clearly unstable. The question was if it was a natural phenomenon or if someone had caused her muddled confusion.
“Can you tell me who trapped you here?”
“I…” Her words trailed away as she gave a shake of her head.
He swallowed a sigh, trying a new approach. Maybe he could lead her slowly to how she’d become a prisoner in the ice.
“You haven’t told me your name,” he reminded her with a small sigh.
“Oh.” She wrinkled her nose. “Did I have one?”
“I assume you did.”
“It disappeared.”
Torque grudgingly accepted defeat.
Whoever or whatever had managed to capture a dragon had also destroyed her ability to remember what had happened.
All he could hope for was her cooperation in getting them out of there.
“Please let me help you,” he murmured, taking a step toward her.
She instantly moved away, the scent of cinnamon almost choking him.
“You can’t,” she rasped. “No one can.”
“Together it’s possible,” he said. “If the three of us combine our fire we could surely melt through our prison and—”
She abruptly interrupted his words, a shimmer of
magic surrounding her. “I must go.”
“Wait.” He held out a pleading hand. To hell with pride. “Please.”
The shimmers thickened, but she didn’t disappear as he’d feared.
“You mustn’t leave this lair,” she commanded.
“Why not?”
The pale eyes narrowed. “Madness waits for you out there.”
“Madness? From what?”
There was a silence, and Torque suddenly wondered if he’d gone too far. Offending a dragon was remarkably easy. Especially one who wasn’t thinking clearly.
At last she heaved a rueful sigh. “I had forgotten how very persistent males can be.”
He realized a silent sigh of relief. At least she hadn’t turned him into a charred pile of ash.
“I don’t mean to be persistent, but we can’t stay here forever,” he said, his voice gentle.
“Why not? You have to be someplace.” A sly expression touched her beautiful features. “And with someone. This is as good a place as any.”
Torque felt a jolt of shock. Had she sensed his increasingly tangled bond with Rya? Or had she read his secret fantasy of having his lovely betrothed locked in his bedroom for the next few centuries?
“Our families will be searching for us,” he forced himself to say.
“They will eventually forget you.” A sad, melancholy smile touched her lips. “They always do.”
The corridor seemed to darken, as if her mood had dimmed the soft glow.
Torque resisted the urge to reach out and touch the ruby-red hair. Trying to comfort a dragon was a risky proposition.
“I won’t deny it’s a temptation,” he reluctantly admitted. “But we can’t stay.”
When he had Rya in his bed it would be because she wanted to be there. Not because they were trapped.
“It’s too dangerous to leave now,” she said in unexpectedly firm tones. “I will return when it’s safe.”
“But—”
She lifted a silencing hand. “Patience.”
The shimmers whirled around her before she disappeared, leaving behind a small puff of smoke.
Patience.
Torque rolled his eyes. He’d just used the same word with Rya. No wonder she’d looked like she wanted to kick him in the nuts.