Free Her Mad Dragon (Dragon Guard Series Book 15) by Julia Mills Page B

that was not
to be, not with Calysta for a mate and his penchant for screwing up in epic
fashion.
    At first sight, there’d only been Niall and Rian at his
bedside. Then had come Della, Rory, Claire, Royce, and Kyra, in that order.
They’d all been happy he was awake. He’d waited and waited for Calysta to show
her lovely face and welcome him back to the land of the living, so when she
didn’t show, he finally asked her daughter where she was. Kyra looked at her
aunt, who’d looked at Royce, who’d looked back at Kyra, then in unison they’d
looked at him and shrugged.
    “What in the name of all that’s holy does that mean?” Maddox
growled, smacking the covers with his free hand and cursing when he almost
dislodged his IV.
    He knew she’d been there. There was no mistaking the scent
of night-blooming jasmine and sage lingering in the air. The sweet and spicy
aroma made his heart race and his body ache. It was heavenly and she was his.
    Royce opened his mouth to speak just as Rory popped his head
back in the door and said, “It means you’re getting the silent treatment, ya’
old goat. The Priestess is pissed. You’re lucky she hasn’t turned you into
something slimy that wiggles in the dirt.”
    “Rory! Stop that,” Della scolded before quickly covering her
mouth with her hand to hide her laughter.
    Kyra quickly added, “She was just worried Maddox and Mom hates being worried. Give her a few days. She’ll cool off.”
    That had been three days ago and in that time, he’d been
poked and prodded, tested and measured, and had his temperature taken so many
times he wondered if he they were using the numbers to play the lottery but he
was still getting the cold shoulder from his lovely little witch. Calysta had
uttered maybe twenty words to him, including and pretty much limited to “How
are you?” “Does this hurt?” and “Can I get you anything?”
    He’d try to be cute and answer the last question with “Yes.
You. Naked.” But his mate only hrmph’d, looked over her reading glasses at him,
and left the room without a word. At this rate, he figured he might be out of
the doghouse by their twentieth anniversary. Stuck in the clinic, longing for
his mate and in a right foul humor, all the mad dragon could do was snarl when Lennox
and Brannoc arrived with the research he’d asked for.
    “How you doing, old man?” Lenn asked with his usual cheeky
grin.
    “Old man? Who the hell you calling old man?” Maddox grumbled
before turning his head towards the open door and raising his voice to a dull
roar. “I am perfectly fine and should be home, in my own bed, recuperating with
my mate by my side.”
    The words were still echoing in the hallway when a gust of
wind blew through his room, knocked his glass of ice water into his lap, then
slammed his door shut.
    “Dammit, Calysta. Not fair!” he bellowed to his mate’s not
so subtle magical answer to his suggestion. Growling low in his throat, he was
just about to hurl a suggestion as to what Calysta could do with her magic when
he saw both Lenn and Brann coughing into their hands while trying hard not to
laugh out loud.
    “You think this is funny!” the mad dragon bellowed. Throwing
back the covers and showering the younger Guardsmen with the drops of spilt
water from his blanket, the mad dragon sat straight up, narrowed his eyes, and
shook his finger at them. “Just you wait. Your time’s a comin’.” Letting his
feet hang over the side of the bed, he wiped as much of the moisture as he
could from his sweats and sighed in disgust. He hated wet clothes, but there
was no way he was asking Calysta for a dry pair. She was still too pissed and
he was way too proud.
     Looking back at Lennox and Brannoc, who had shit-eating
grins on their faces, he snarled, “What the hell are you doing here? Speak or
get out.”
    Lenn snickered. “Calm down, old man. We’ve got the
information you wanted on any and all surviving members of the O’Baoill