It was the tall warrior she’d seen at Maeve’s side, although he had a purple mark on his forehead that she didn’t remember. Yasmina floated behind him, glad of the darkness to hide her smoke form. He crept close to the door of the armory, and paused there to listen, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Liam?” he asked, but she could tell he didn’t expect a reply. “Hurry up, Liam. The Dark Queen is waiting on us.”
There was no sound from within the armory. The Fae warrior straightened, stared at the door for a long moment, then marched away. Yasmina knew she didn’t imagine that he was making sure his steps were audible. He pulled out a key and drew his sword, then darted back to the armory and unlocked the door.
There was a roar and the brilliant glow of dragonfire. The Fae warrior lunged into the armory, pulling the door behind himself, and Yasmina heard sounds of battle. Weight crashed against the walls. Something shattered. Someone grunted and fell to the earth.
And then there was silence.
Quick as a wink, Yasmina slid through the lock of the armory and was horrified to see Hadrian in his human form on the ground, blood running from a wound on his chest. The Fae warrior stood over him, his expression fierce, then swore as the blade on his sword became tipped with hoarfrost. He stepped away from Hadrian, circling the armory with increasing speed as he examined the melting weapons.
Then he turned to survey the fallen Pyr with mingled horror and awe. “You did this,” he whispered as Hadrian groaned. He kicked Hadrian who rolled to his back as if close to death. “I don’t know how it was possible, you will pay the price for this travesty. The Dark Queen will want to exact her own revenge.” He kicked Hadrian again, but the Pyr went completely still.
Yasmina didn’t think Hadrian was even breathing anymore and she feared their quest had claimed its first victim. The Fae warrior swore again and kicked Hadrian again, with no response.
“You were supposed to be dead already,” the Fae warrior complained. “Your corpse should have been burned to cinders in that fire.” He bent down and listened for Hadrian’s breath, then opened one of the Pyr’s eyes to peer into it. He stood up then, his disgust clear. “You will not escape the price of this,” he vowed. “If you can be roused, my queen will do it.” He nodded. “And then you will pay.”
Hadrian didn’t move.
The Fae warrior sheathed his weapon with a vicious gesture then hefted Hadrian over his shoulder, grunting beneath the weight of the other man. Then he left the armory, carrying the dead Pyr toward the court.
Yasmina feared that Rania might lose heart when she saw that her mate had been killed. She wondered whether the plan should proceed, then hoped that she might somehow have a chance to heal Hadrian. She hurried to retrieve the hidden gem of the hoard, and when she picked it up, she glanced toward the departing warrior.
And she saw the green glimmer of Hadrian’s eyes.
He was alive!
He had to be feigning the extent of his injuries in order to be taken to Maeve. Yasmina gripped the gem of the hoard and hurried in pursuit of the Fae warrior, slipping from shadow to shadow as she tried to keep up.
This was a confrontation she didn’t want to miss.
Rania manifested before Maeve with her prize and Alasdair fell hard against the ground. His scales looked shimmery and vital, even though he was supposedly dead, and she feared that their ruse would be discovered too soon. She was glad when he shifted one last time to his human form and remained motionless beside her. She bowed low before Maeve, trying to disguise her doubts and what would be seen as her treachery.
She didn’t want her thoughts to be read.
“That took you long enough,” Maeve said, rising from her throne. Kade, the dark-haired and dark-eyed dragon shifter who had betrayed his kind, hurried to her side. She stroked his cheek and kissed him, letting everyone see the affection between them.
He approached one of his own kind, apparently dead, but he was indifferent. Did he know that Alasdair was banking the fires, or had Maeve put a splinter of ice in his heart, too?
Rania felt herself tense as the Dark Queen drew near. The court gathered closer, chattering and speculating. She strove to keep her own expression bland.
“An easy kill?” Maeve asked.
“Never, my queen. The Pyr are most resilient.” Rania eyed Kade, who returned her survey steadily.
Maeve stood beside Alasdair. “I can smell that he’s Pyr but why isn’t he a dragon?”
“They rotate between forms when in distress, my queen, then remain in their human form once dead.”
“Really? The last two who died in my court were dragon corpses.”
“But they weren’t actually dead, my queen,” a Fae warrior said, striding into the court. He was carrying a man on his back and to Rania’s dismay, it was Hadrian he flung to the ground. Her dragon shifter wasn’t moving any more than Alasdair was.
Was he dead or had he banked his fires? Rania wished she knew.
“Bringing presents, Bryant?” Maeve asked. She bent and peered at Hadrian. “But that’s the dead one.”
The Fae warrior, obviously Bryant, nudged Hadrian with his foot. “He wasn’t as dead as you thought he was, my queen. I found him in the armory, melting the weapons.”
Maeve inhaled sharply and spun to face Rania. “Is this your doing? Did you revive him so that you could kill him yourself?”
“Does it matter?” Rania asked, indicating Alasdair. “Here is my thirteenth kill and the Pyr you requested. I would ask you to free my brothers.”
Maeve looked between the two Pyr, then eyed Bryant. “Melting the weapons?” she echoed and he nodded. “How much progress had he made?”
“We are unarmed, my lady.”
A whisper passed through the court at that, a fluttering of wings and a hissing of speculation. Maeve came toward Rania, her gaze dark with intent. Rania felt the Fae queen’s will bend upon her and winced as Maeve began to probe in her mind. She tried to close her thoughts against the intrusion, squeezing her eyes shut as she fought off Maeve’s advances.
There was a shout and a brilliant shimmer of blue light. Hadrian had shifted shape to his dragon form. He roared and breathed a torrent of dragonfire over the Fae, compelling them to retreat. Bryant lunged at him, sword drawn, but Hadrian shifted back to human form. Rania’s dirk flashed in his hand. Bryant fell on him and the blade nicked Bryant’s shoulder. The Fae warrior moved quickly, thrusting the remnant of his Fae sword at Hadrian. Hadrian dodged the blow and Bryant slashed at his feet, moving so quickly that Hadrian fell to one knee. He shimmered blue, taking his dragon form, but Maeve cast a wave of red magick at him before he could defend himself.
Hadrian was frozen in place, trapped and powerless. His mouth was open, poised to breathe fire, and he was crouched low against the ground. His tail was raised, caught mid-swing, and his wings were raised high.
Alasdair had already started to shimmer blue and was changing to defend his cousin. Maeve flung a fistful of magick at him and he might have turned to stone, right in the act of snapping his great dragon teeth at Bryant.
“Do continue,” Maeve invited Bryant.
He bowed to his queen, then raised the last dripping stub of his sword to drive it into Hadrian’s throat. He lingered over the task, savoring his victory a bit more than a noble warrior should, to Rania’s thinking.