another desperate attack. âYouâre not the only one who saw visions in the blood. Mine told me youâre a coward, Nineva Morrow.â Something black and ugly filled his eyes. âMy patience is running out, Princess. Surrender or die.â
âNo, thanksâI think Iâd rather kill you.â She shot a blast at his gut with everything she had. Even as it splashed off his shields, she lunged, swinging. He parried, then darted a glance skyward and leaped backward.
Nineva charged, but before she could close with him again, something snapped tight around her waist. She looked down.
A massive clawed hand gripped her, talons curled around her body. Before she could even blink in surprise, the ground dropped away from her feet.
âNice try, kid, but Iâm afraid youâre out of your league,â a rumbling voice told her over the thunderous flap of wings.
It was the dragon.
âHeâs got the Sword of Semira!â she yelled, kicking futilely. âI have to get it back!â
The dragon muttered an English curse and dove toward Arralt, who flung a magical blast at them. The roiling ball of energy splashed off the dragonâs shields even as the huge creature breathed a spell of his own.
Arralt ducked back, gesturing. The shimmer of a dimensional gate formed in the air.
Oh, hell. Semira!
The dragon! Take the dragon as your lover. His magic is greatâ¦
What? Nineva looked down at the huge claws gripping her waist. She must have misunderstood. Semira, heâs a dragon !
Not all the time. Was there a trace of amusement in the goddessâs faint voice?
Arralt whirled and plunged for the gate, the sword glowing in his hand. The dragon snatched for him, but he dove through, hurling another blast as he fled.
Taking Semira with him.
âNo!â Nineva cried in despair, thumping her fists on the scaly hand that held her.
The dragon touched down, head jerking to and fro as he looked for another Sidhe to grab. Around them, closing gates vanished, carrying the last of the warriors away. Nineva sensed the rise of magic as the dragon cast yet another spell.
âBloody hell. Wherever they went, itâs heavily shielded. I canât punch through.â The dragon sighed and released her, carefully uncurling his talons.
She turned and looked up at him. And up and up and up. He towered over her, looking more like an animated hillside than a living creature. Moonlight shimmered on his scales as ropes of muscle shifted under his skin. His head was as long as her entire body, crowned by curving horns that gleamed under the moon. His eyes blinked at her, each the size of her head, glowing crimson and flashing sparks of magic.
Semira wanted her to make love to that ?
The memory of the nightmares only made things worse. Particularly with those scarlet eyes looking down at her, just as theyâd done every time heâd incinerated her in those damned dreams.
I donât have time for this. Nineva forced the fear away.
She had to concentrate on one thing: he was the dragon warrior the legends had predicted for thousands of years. As Semira had said, he was the key.
Unfortunately, Nineva had let Arralt escape with the sword. Which put him that much further along with his plan to unleash a Dark One invasion on Mortal Earth.
It was sickening. Arralt was rightâshe was a coward. In trying to avoid her fate, her duty, sheâd lost everything. âWeâve got to get that sword back, or weâre all screwed.â
âI know.â The dragonâs eyes flared red. Nineva sensed a burst of magic so intense, she took an involuntary step back and swallowed a scream.
Was he going to burn her now?
But when she blinked away the magical dazzle, he was gone, replaced by a man. His starkly handsome face and broad-shouldered build were instantly familiar. âOh, hell. Youâre the dragon?â
He gave her a crooked little smile. âAfraid so.â
It
Wolf Specter, Angel Knots