8. Breaker Firespell

Chapter 8

Breaker Firespell

It took every ounce of my control to not slaughter Linan.

Honestly, I had no idea how I was conscious in the first place. Numerous bolts of electricity had been aimed at me, one specifically finding its target right at the center of my chest. But because I was still conscious, I had to actively stop myself from retaliating. At least until I had a better handle on our current situation.

I'd only woken a minute or two ago when I was dragged out of a vehicle. We were obviously in the pack lands now, but the industrial complex we were being led into wasn't one I recognized. I thought I knew this city, but now I was second-guessing myself—another reason I wasn't willing to fight right now. I didn't have enough strength to stand up straight, let alone free myself or the others.

And I wouldn't risk being separated from my mate until I was certain I could get us out of here successfully.

It also concerned me that I was the only one that was currently conscious.

Bexley was being held by one of the security guards, her head lolled back and eyes shut. Her brow occasionally dipped, but that was the only sign of life. Fury at the way she was being treated—at the asshole holding her and maneuvering her far too fucking roughly—was almost enough to break me from the haze.

I didn't know what type of magic they'd used to drain our power, but while I could feel my flame coming back to life…it was slow. Not how it was supposed to be. My dragon rumbled inside my chest, but it was weak. I didn't think I could shift even if I tried, which was shocking since I'd done so while far more physically injured than I was now. I didn't allow the thought to discourage me, though.

Linan had won this battle, but he wouldn't win the war.

The bastard had specifically instructed my mate to be carried, while the others were damn near dragged along. Gage, Jagger, Fletcher, and Thomas were being pulled by pairs of security guards who struggled against the men's boneless, unconscious weight. Their plight would have been amusing if it wasn't my own brothers getting beat up in the process. Bexley's friend Rachel was hanging over the shoulder of one of the guards, one of her arms twisted at an angle like it was broken.

Frankly, I was surprised Linan hadn't just left her behind in the portal warehouse, but knowing the bastard, he probably planned to use her in his fucked up games to get Fletcher and Thomas to cooperate.

I trudged forward, my limbs heavy as I followed the guard through a pair of metal doors that opened to reveal a darkened space. It looked like a cargo elevator. It was possible it was something else—my vision was still spotty—but it was my best guess.

My dragon roared in protest as I stepped inside, vehemently against being trapped in the relatively small space. I had to go, though. If Bexley was going, then I sure as fuck was going.

Linan joined us and I stared down at him with disdain, refusing to meet the challenge in his gaze. I wouldn't give him the fucking satisfaction.

"Not so tough now. Just wait till you're locked up and your power is being drained constantly." I could hear the victory ringing clear in his voice, and I couldn't wait to extinguish it. I just had to be patient.

Fighting back the impulse to either roll my eyes or rip his fucking head off, I took a steadying breath. Not only for the safety of my mate and my brothers, but because there was something that had been trying to break through the fuzziness in my head—something that told me that this may be exactly what we wanted.

This exact outcome of being imprisoned.

Which of course sounded mental until I remembered where he planned to imprison us. If he had a cell already suited for storm dragons, then I highly doubted he would risk putting us anywhere else. Even if it meant revealing that Bexley's parents were alive, he'd probably consider it a win to ensure that none of us could escape. After all, if Bexley's parents—two of the most powerful shifters in Trabea—hadn't broken out in all these years, why would we?

The elevator jolted, and my brain misfired from the pain that shot through my body. My eyes squeezed shut for a mere moment, my brain dancing away from my fried nerve endings and presenting me with a far better memory…

My gaze followed Bexley as she waltzed through the Bronzehearts' gardens, making her way towards our spot. The spot where I always left notes to her. She didn't realize it, of course, but I'd chosen the spot because it was where we used to sit when we were kids and here to visit Gage. Where we used to sit for hours, talking and watching the world around us.

Where I unintentionally fell in love with her, even at such a young age.

This evening her golden hair was loose, hanging around her shoulders. The way her pale pink dress clung to her figure nearly made me groan and give myself away. I swear, the woman looked like candy. Constantly.

Rubbing a hand over my chest, I had to control the urge to go to her. To see the recognition in her gaze. To feel her in my arms.

But what if none of that happened? Or worse, what if it caused her an immense amount of pain? That possibility was more than enough to keep me in my place. My heart beat hard and loud for this woman, my pulse in time with her steps. If it meant waiting years for her to remember me, then that was exactly what I would sacrifice.

I smiled as Bexley picked up the note I'd hidden and immediately unfolded it. Her impatience was just one more thing I loved about her. Her beautiful face lit up as she read the note, and I savored each of her reactions from where I was crouched down, keeping out of sight.

As she flitted back toward the house, nearly dancing, I felt fulfilled knowing that I had made her happy, even if just momentarily.

"Breaker. We should leave if we don't want their security to see us." I nearly rolled my eyes at my own security officer's concern. Dennis was a good guy. Young but really good at his job, so I didn't give him too much shit—even now, when I knew that Gage was very well aware of my presence. He'd never begrudge my visits to check in on mo chuisle .

"Move. Now."

My eyes snapped open as I was shoved forward, out of the elevator. I quickly took in the new surroundings, attempting to orient and familiarize myself with the new environment—a darkened corridor—before searching out Bexley.

A small, wounded sound that had Linan scoffing escaped her throat. I reached out to her through our connection, needing to confirm that she was okay. The small residual piece left of our magic picked up on my will, a spark ignited along our mating bond.

"Breaker?" Bexley's sweet voice filled my chest with relief. She stood in front of me, surrounded by a black glowing aura. Her golden eyes were filled with black stars where the white should have been, and her hands, which were clasping mine, were covered in scales. It was both beautiful and odd seeing her in this half-shifted state.

It was almost like it was her dragon there, communicating with me in the most human form it could manage.

"Are you okay? How are you feeling?" I demanded as she melted into me, her eyes filled with so much affection that it was damn near overwhelming.

When I brought my hand up to cup her cheek, I noticed that my own hand was covered in scales. They reflected in the dim light of the dreamscape, the flickering light making me think our collective subconscious was unable to create a more complicated landscape because of our drained power.

"Worried. I can't feel the others. Are they okay?"

"Unconscious, but okay. We've been transported to some sort of industrial complex. I'm hoping it's the same place where he's holding your parents." Bexley nodded in understanding, pressing her head against my chest, as I tried to catch the rumble that threatened to break out. I hated seeing fear on her face, even if it was for her mates' wellbeing. There should be no fear to begin with.

"He said something to me about ensuring Fletcher and I got to know each other better, even if it meant waiting till the next Black Moon. I'm worried about what he's going to try. We need to wake up, I just don't know how."

"I'm positive they'll be waking us up soon, whether we want to or not," I growled, unable to hide the rage at Linan's plan for my mate. Wrapping my arms around her, she melted into me, and a vow slipped from my lips before I could stop it. "I won't let him or anyone else touch you, Bex. Fletcher included."

Before she could respond, the world around us crumbled.

The metallic clang of the elevator doors closing behind us had reality filtering back in. A groan left my throat as I sat up and searched out my mate, only to find that I could barely see anything. At least not until my eyes adjusted.

We were in a cell of some kind, the faintest light from down the corridor illuminating the massive bars. A wavering wall of silver light—a ward, no doubt—moved between them. It was peaceful, almost, though I knew that peace would disappear if I tried to touch it. It would fucking hurt, for one, and it'd probably be enough to knock me unconscious considering my lack of power right now. Something I could also blame the damn wards for.

At least the stone floor was warm. It made me feel grounded and solid, unlike the walls which soared so high that I couldn't see the ceiling.

Apart from that, nothing else stood out to me. Except the obvious— I was separated from Bexley .

Looking around, I found Jagger slumped against the wall and Gage only a few feet away. But neither Bexley, Rachel, nor the Clanguard brothers were anywhere to be found. Moving sluggishly towards the front of the cell, I could feel both the physical effects of the power drain weighing on me heavily. They'd taken our bags and other personal belongings, luckily released our hands from cuffs, but my sphere was still in my jacket—hidden from sight, where it would stay until we decided to use it.

"Bexley?" I called out.

"She's over here." Fletcher's voice was filled with exhaustion. "She's here with us. Well, technically Thomas and Rachel are in the next cell over, but on this side of the corridor."

"Fuck," I growled. "Fletcher, I have no idea what your father is fucking thinking—what does he think this will accomplish? Doesn't he realize the clan leaders will immediately realize something went wrong?"

"He's not thinking," he groaned. "He's just being an egotistical bastard."

"Have you been down here before?" I asked, looking down the corridor. All I could see was a massive pair of dark doors, different than the elevator shaft doors. I couldn't feel any other magical signatures, but that probably meant jack shit down here.

"No, but I think this is where we want to be."

"Can't see shit down here," I growled.

"And there is no way we're going to be able to get out of these cells on our own."

"We have something that may work," I hinted, "but let's wait till the others wake up." Fletcher agreed, and I circled the cell before sitting down near the wall at the front of the cell, looking toward the doors at the other end of the hallway. The floor dipped in front of them, but I didn't know what that meant.

Frowning, I joined the others, propping myself up against the stone wall as I tried to get some rest. I didn't allow myself to get too comfortable, though. I wanted to be able to wake up immediately if someone joined us down here. Until then, I would try to reconnect with Bexley until she woke.

I expected a memory or dreamscape, but instead I was hit with a vision.

"Mommy!" A little voice pealed with laughter as I found Bexley once again in a garden, this time holding a small wrapped up bundle. A toddler, maybe around three years old, ran around her while giggling and tugging on her dress. The softness on Bexley's face, the true affection and love there, held me captive.

"Yes?" Bexley crouched down and adjusted the baby in her arms. The little girl leaned over and gave the baby a kiss on the nose, causing the child to stir. I assumed they wouldn't see me as I approached, but my feet on the gravel had both of them looking up.

"Daddy!" the girl exclaimed, launching herself at me. As I caught her, a well of emotion stirred. She was so overjoyed to simply see me.

Bexley's gaze was filled with a knowing light as she moved closer, her tone soft. "This is new. I've never had a dream like this before."

"Dream?" the little girl asked.

"Nothing, honey," Bexley promised. The little girl squirmed out of my arms and ran toward a pot of flowers on the stone patio, picking them up carefully and bringing them over. I had so many things I wanted to say, but none of them seemed right. None were perfect enough to encapsulate how I felt.

The baby stirred, and when I looked down at his face, his eyes opened. I knew those eyes well—I saw them in the mirror every single day. One gold. One black.

"Bex. Open your eyes, cupcake." Gage's voice had my own eyes snapping open as the dream unfortunately broke. Looking around, I was able to see much better than I had before. There was a glowing light coming from Bexley's cell, Fletcher staring at her in unabashed surprise from several feet away. It was only then that I realized that she was the one surrounded by light.

She struggled to sit up, looking dazed, but when her gaze met mine, a small smile broke onto her face. She remembered the dream. I wanted to stay in that moment for just a little longer, but all too soon reality began to filter back in.

"He really did it," she whispered. "That's insane."

"What?" Jagger asked.

"Linan. He took us right to the place, the exact one from my dreams…but the power signature I usually sense is gone." Her gaze moved toward the doors at the end of the hall. "I don't want to consider why that is. Maybe it has to do with the wards or something."

I hadn't considered that he would have gotten rid of her parents before we arrived here. Surely not after this long, right? Shit .

"Being in the right place would be wonderful if there was even a chance of getting out. Which there isn't," Thomas pointed out, having finally woken up.

Before I could suggest the spheres, an unexpected voice chimed in. "I think I can help with that."