Chapter 29

Lionel Green is an unassuming, ugly man.

I stare at the picture of him with narrowed eyes, unable to decipher whether he is capable of committing such an atrocious act against Raphael Turner.

Large and pudgy, with red cheeks and greasy hair, there’s nothing about Lionel that makes me think he’s powerful enough to kill a centuries-old vampire. Sure, he’s a shifter, but is an animal really capable of beating a vampire in a fight?

Sighing, I hand the picture back to Maverick.

“Any other news?” I query, leaning back in my chair. The cafeteria is empty at this time of day. No surprise. The second I arrived to hold court, the others scattered like I’d seared their asses with my dragon fire.

“Damien has received a shipment of food and clothes from above,” Maverick recites. I nod seriously. I knew Damien had planned to get more supplies for our gang, particularly Nina, from some of his contacts.

“Any shifter attacks?” My hands clenched into fists as I think of the vile, vicious gang. They’ve been silent, almost unnaturally so, which is especially strange, since we have their leader tied up in our throne room.

“Silent,” he says. “But there have been three deaths since yesterday.”

“What happened?” I ask, only half listening. Deaths aren’t uncommon in the Labyrinth. We lost both men and women every day. It’s sad, I suppose, but a necessity. There are checks and balances in every aspect of life. The strong thrive, and the weak succumb to their inevitable fate.

Maverick tells me about the most recent brawl between a werewolf, vampire, and succubus. Both the werewolf and vampire were killed.

Halfway through the story, my mind begins to wander. I can’t help but wonder how Bronson’s date with Nina is going.

Should I be jealous? Upset? I admit, my emotions are turbulent. A part of me is thrilled that Nina is able to enjoy life after months of captivity, but another part of me is immensely jealous.

Soon, I’ll be the one taking her out on ravishing dates. I don’t even care that other guys are as well, as long as I’m one of them.

Yeah. I’m pussy-whipped for this girl. My thoughts revolve around her like the earth circles the sun.

“Anything else, sir?” Maverick”s words wrench me out of my thoughts. After I wave him away, he nods once before retreating, his metaphorical tail between his legs.

I heave myself off the table I’ve been perching on, grab an apple from the magical buffet line, then head in the direction of the throne room.

Damien is currently with our resident shifter. Probably has his innards separated from his body by now.

Snort.

I have just turned at a fork in the tunnels when a pungent, coppery scent assaults me. My vision narrows, nostrils flaring, as I whip my head in the direction of the prominent smell.

Air escapes my lungs in a swooping whoosh as terror fills me.

Bronson places a bloody hand against the wall, stumbling forward. My eyes take only a second to catalog his injuries—bruises and scratches marring his face, torn sleeves, and a twisted ankle—before I’m lunging forward, gripping his shoulders. He hisses out air before facing me directly, eyes wide and wild with panic. Crazed. Feral.

Hints of umber appear in his irises as his wolf shines through.

“Where is she?” I ask slowly. Panic pulsates through my veins, accompanied by a fury unlike anything I have ever felt before.

“They took her,” he growls out, saliva dripping from his sharp canines.

“Who? Who fucking took her?”

I’ll rip whoever it is limb from limb until they’re nothing but a torso and head. Then I’ll use my dragon fire to burn off their noses and eyes. I’ll leave their mouths, if only to hear their screams of agony.

Bronson’s one-word answer causes shards of glass to swirl around in my stomach. “Shifters.”

“Have any nines?”

“This game is stupid.”

“Any tens.”

“Kai, seriously?” Nina asks, dropping her cards onto the musty cell floor. She stares up at me with blind, milky eyes. “You just like playing this game because you always win. It’s not fair. I can’t see what the heck I have!”

I chuckle, dropping my own cards onto the floor. She’s not wrong. I do love playing this game, but for an entirely different reason. She always gets so flustered and angry, red splotches erupting on both of her cheeks, that I can’t help but smile.

Playing Go Fish with a blind girl? I highly recommend it.

Only cold metal bars separate us. I sit cross-legged on one side, while she sits on the other. As always, she’s dressed in a flowing white gown, with her black hair loose and wild. Staring at her, I feel something…different. It’s no longer just concern and protectiveness that courses through me. For the first time, my body is noticing all her delicate, soft curves and heartbreakingly perfect features.

I yearn to memorize her lips with my own. Trace the contours of her face. Test the weight of each of her heavy breasts. She has always been pretty, but over time, she has become gorgeous.

I’m not the only one who has noticed.

I see how the other men look at her. The guards. Their vile thoughts are depicted in every action they make. Etched into their leering smiles.

Acid churns low in my stomach at the prospect of any of them touching her.

“Kai!” She flicks a card at me, and I blink, coming back to the present. “You’re staring at me, and it’s weird.”

“I’m always staring at you,” I admit with an easy-going smile. She giggles, taking my words as a joke, but it’s closer to the truth than she knows. When she’s gone, my heart cries out for her. I feel physical pain when I think about what she has endured. What she will continue to endure. I want nothing more than to break her out of this hellhole and give her the life of luxury she deserves. A life of fucking roses and chocolates and expensive jewelry.

For now, I’ll just have to work on keeping her alive.

Pounding footsteps alert me to the guard a moment before Nina’s cell is opened. I jump to my feet, rage burning a fire through my veins, and place my hands on the bars.

Man steps into Nina’s cell. Broad-shouldered and dressed in a suit of black armor, Man is a scary motherfucker. He always wears a dark visor that obscures his features from view. Only Nina has seen him, and she describes him as monstrous. Evil.

He grips Nina’s thin arm, propelling her to her feet, and my girl releases a helpless whimper. Anger like no other burns low in my gut like lava.

“Let her go!” I growl, voice barely recognizable.

Man laughs coldly, ignoring me, and proceeds to lead Nina down the hall to the torture room.

No!

Something breaks inside me—snaps in half—and the next thing I know, claws have ejected from my fingers. Brilliant red scales line the insides of my arms.

My mom always told me stories about my heritage—dragons—but I had never been able to shift before. I was beginning to believe that her stories were fabricated.

I suck in air and then release it with a deafening roar. Fire bursts from my mouth and sets the bars aflame. The metal begins to bend and contort under my assault, smoke filling the air. Both my lungs and throat burn, but I don’t let up.

Nina.

I need to get to Nina.

“Hey! Watch it, kid!” a strident voice screams. The door to my cell is wrenched open, and I find myself on my back, a cattle prod electrocuting my stomach. Pain consumes me as a second, then third one joins the first.

Nina.

“He’s getting stronger,” I dimly hear someone say.

“We can’t contain him,” someone else agrees.

The very next day, I’m shipped to Nightmare Penitentiary.

Stomach muscles clenching,I storm into the throne room. The door clatters loudly as it closes, the sound almost an ominous warning.

Rion lifts his bloody head, a coy grin playing on his chapped lips. Damien stands just off to the side, absently spinning a blade between his fingers without a care in the fucking world.

Both men freeze at whatever expression they see on my face.

Bronson, behind me, has shifted fully into his wolf. It’ll help both alleviate the ache of losing Nina and heal his extensive injuries. In any other circumstance, I’d check on my longtime friend, but I have more important things to focus on.

“Where is she?” I hiss, slamming my fists into Rion’s shoulders. There’s an audible crack, and there’s no doubt they’re dislocated, but Rion doesn’t even blink.

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” he asks with genuine curiosity.

“Nina!” I press my thumb into an open wound on his chest.

“Nina?” Damien asks slowly, carefully. His eyes are wide with panic before he quickly schools his features. A muscle in his jaw twitches. The man looks as if he can take on a dozen different men and women…and win. The scary motherfucker grabs a second dagger from inside his sleeve and holds it at the ready. I’m worried he’ll kill Rion before I can get information out of him.

“Your shifters took her!” I roar.

My grip on my dragon is fragile, feeble, almost. Trying to stop him is like trying to push the waves back into the ocean. Smoke flares from my nostrils, and I briefly close my eyes, attempting to rein in my beast. I can’t help Nina if I’m too fucking big to maneuver the hallways.

“My shifters,” Rion repeats, and my eyes snap open. For the first time since I’ve known him, there’s no manic insanity in his forbidding gaze. He twists on the cuffs restraining him, and they snap easily. He falls gracefully to his feet, long chains dragging behind him. Unperturbed, he grabs first one manacle and then the other and snaps them in half.

Shit. The man wasn’t kidding. He really could’ve broken free whenever he fucking wanted to.

“I’ll find her,” Rion announces darkly, already stalking past me. I move to follow, but Rion whirls on me before I can take more than a step. “They see you, and they’ll kill her. No question. If you want to get her out of this alive, you need to fucking trust me.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“You need to,” he snaps. “Shifters or not, whoever took her will pay for what they did. And if they hurt her…” He trails off with a dark, raspy laugh. In that moment, I don’t see the crazy prisoner we’ve kept suspended from our ceiling. I see the ruthless, vicious gang member who has created a following that rivals my own.

“I’ll go with him,” Damien says briskly. His voice leaves no room for argument…not that anyone would argue with him. The man’s eyes are devoid of any feeling, any warmth. The eyes of a psychopath.

Rion nods once, already turning on his heel.

I release a guttural roar, my final grip on sanity breaking. As my skin sizzles and expands, I eagerly give in to the shift. My dragon has to crouch to not hit his head on the ceiling.

Bronson’s wolf whimpers, attempting to follow Damien and Rion, but because of his disfigured leg, he’s unable to.

Nina…

If anyone has hurt her, they’ll get to experience the complete and unobstructed wrath of my dragon.

And if Rion betrays me?

Torture doesn’t even begin to encapsulate what he will endure.