LITMIR.BIZ

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So close his nose brushed hers. “I saw your body writhing beneath his, begging for him to claim you.” The hot breath of his words fanned against her neck before he swooped, licking the wound. His low groan vibrated against her throat and a shudder moved through his body. That male part of him grew harder, pressing more insistently against her.

      “I watched you grab his face,” he said against her neck, sliding his fingers through her hair. “Saw you pull his mouth closer.” With a feral snarl, he dug his fingers into her scalp, pressing his mouth against her. Alexia’s stomach rolled when he forced his tongue into her mouth, flopping it around with the finesse of a fish.

      Thankfully, it was over almost as soon as it had started. He didn’t enjoy kissing. Didn’t do it with the dragon lord’s passion.

      Lotharus pulled back. His head cocked to the side as his bottomless eyes regarded her. “Thinking of him, are you?”

      Alexia swallowed.

      “So am I.” He released her. She breathed deep, filling her lungs with the air she’d been depriving them of.

      “I think I’ll go and see if our soldiers have broken that bird yet.”

      Vivid images of the dragon fighting earlier flashed across her mind. He was so strong, so proud. He would not fall, would not go down on bended knee before Lotharus.

      “You are coming with me, aren’t you? After all, torture is your forte.”

      Chapter Three

      DETERMINED TO BREAK the dense fog that had clouded around her mind since the dragon’s arrival, Alexia notched up her chin and fell into step behind Lotharus. After descending the spiral stair, they maneuvered down the narrow corridor to the dungeon. The dark walls on either side of them wept. Musty water and stale minerals filled the air. The scents comforted her like a reassuring security blanket would a child. She’d made this trip dozens of times. This was what she did, what she was good at. Although she never found the twisted pleasure Lotharus did in torture, she’d always successfully retrieved information she needed from her captives.

      And she needed that crystal.

      The sharp crack of a whip followed by a tensed, muffled groan pierced the quiet. She stopped, her heart pounding in her ears. The whip lashed again. At the answering grunt of pain, the bite mark on her neck burned. Alexia fingered the sensitive flesh, covering it with a curtain of her hair when Lotharus looked over his shoulder at her.

      A moment later, they rounded the corner into the subterranean bowels of the catacomb. Lit only by torchlight, the dungeon boasted everything one might need to punish, maim or kill an enemy. An assortment of bloodied weapons hung on the flagstone walls and littered the tops of the scarred wood tables. A row of iron-barred cells lined the wall to the right, while a rack and other instruments of torture numerous rulers or their minions had collected over their centuries on earth occupied the space to the left.

      Tonight, the soldiers had strung the dragon up against the center wall. His arms and legs were shackled to the sides. The silver collar was attached to a bar above him. His gorgeous body in complete human form was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Every corded and ropelike muscle was taut like a bowstring. His hard, muscled abdomen, peppered with bullet holes, flexed under the next bite of the whip.

      Unbidden, her body warmed, remembering his body pressed flush against hers. Her palms burned to skate over every smooth inch of him. The peaks of her nipples tightened beneath her leather corset.

      What was wrong with her?

      Again, the whip lashed his flesh. She flinched at the sound.

      “Come, Alexia.”

      At her name, the dragon lifted his head. She stilled as striking blue eyes burned into her, watching her with unwavering intensity, even when a soldier rained another biting blow on his shoulder.

      “Do you want the honors, or shall I?”

      At the query, her mouth parched. Lotharus was known for his insatiable bloodlust. Somehow, although she had no idea how, she knew this dragon would not break easily. In anger, confusion and frustration she strode forward to the soldier doing the flogging. “Give it to me,” she ordered, holding out her hand.

      The soldier smiled and set the leather instrument in her hand. She palmed the handle, feeling its familiar smooth line and curves. After a deep breath, Alexia put it on the table. Instead she stepped up and smacked the dragon square across the face.

      “Where is the crystal?”

      He slowly turned his head to face her, a cold smile in his icy eyes. “I don’t know.”

      She hit him harder and asked again. Spitting out a mouthful of blood, he let out a low laugh and locked his gaze on hers.

      “I guess it’s true what they say about blondes.”

      Alexia raked her palm across his flesh again. This time, her claws broke the skin of his handsome cheek. And this time when he stared at her, his smile held no trace of humor.

      “The crystal?”

      “I told you. I. Don’t. Know,” he said through clenched teeth.

      “You’re going to have to lie better than that.”

      “Lie? Where could I possibly be hiding it?” He nodded to his bare body.

      Lotharus stepped up from behind her, offering her a spiked cat-o’-nine-tails, an instrument designed to peel flesh from bone. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

      Sickness rose up her throat at his words. She swallowed it down and took the whip. The burden of it hung like a lead weight in her arm. She did not want to do this. For the first time in all her years as a warrior for her people, she did not want to torture her enemy. And she couldn’t explain why.

      “Well, what are you waiting for?”

      At Lotharus’s prod, she knew if she didn’t whip the dragon, not only would she be punished, but Lotharus would take over the interrogation. And none ever survived Lotharus’s questioning. Ever. Although, some far corner of her mind whispered that if anyone could last more than a night in the horde dungeon, it would be this dragon lord before her.

      Clamping down her jaw, Alexia stepped closer. Her eyes fixed on the dark nipples on his bloodied chest, the hard lines of his body. So different…

      She stepped closer, so close that the heat from his body curled around her. She leaned forward and spoke so only he could hear. “Just tell me and end this.”

      The dragon stared down at her, faint creases lining his brow. Then he looked at Lotharus and back to her. Understanding finally lit up his eyes. She noticed they stared at her with less cold revulsion, less hate. He let out a sigh as if coming to some kind of decision. Then he inclined his head toward her.

      “Do your worst, vixen,” he whispered before leaning back again. “You’ll get no answer from me.” The latter he shouted loud enough for all ears to hear.

      When she still did not move to strike him, the dragon smiled. “It is a shame we didn’t have just a few more minutes together, you know. I could have made you sing with pleasure,” he said with a wink.

      Lotharus lurched forward, snatching the nine-tails from her hand. Alexia barely had time to duck out of the way before he swung the weapon high, raining a blow across the dragon’s golden chest.

      IN ONE FLUID MOTION, Tallon landed at the causeway of the dragon’s mountain lair and shifted form, moving seamlessly from the air to the ground.

      As she walked into the darkness of the cave’s mouth, the ancient stones that guarded the doorway to the inner city shifted open, allowing her passage. It had opened only a foot before she saw Falcon, Declan’s second, waiting anxiously on the other side of the wall. Tallon noticed he was dressed from head to booted foot in black combat attire and wondered if he’d come close to trailing them—wondered briefly if the outcome would have been different if he had.

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