He’d been eleven and sparring with Grand Duke Vaclav, bare-chested and with blunt swords dipped in dragonsbane. His great-uncle had “killed” him repeatedly and criticized his technique at every blow. After an hour of that, Lucas had begun to cry, more from humiliation than from pain.
His great-uncle had said, “Those tears do more to prove you unworthy of your name than any amount of poor technique. Dragons do not weep, so you must not be a true dragon. I doubt that you will ever be able to transform.”
Lucas spent the next two years terrified that he really would be one of those rare, tragic people who were born into dragon families but never managed to shift. And he had never wept again.
Now, in that cool, distant part of his mind, he wondered if Grand Duke Vaclav was the watching mastermind. He hoped so. His great-uncle would find a tearful breakdown very convincing.
For a moment, Lucas thought his ploy had worked. Then the masked man slapped him across the face.
The blow was nothing, given the pain he was already in. It was the knowledge of what it meant that made his heart sink.
“Liar,” his captor snapped. “We already searched Castle Balaur.”
“Then she’s already fled.” But Lucas knew they could hear the lie in his voice.
The masked man picked up the bottle of dragonsbane.
In his entire life, Lucas h
ad never known such dread. His heart felt like a lump of ice in his chest. But now that he had no further use for tears, they stopped as if he’d turned off a tap.
Lucas closed his eyes. For Journey, he would endure.
Chapter Nine
Journey
Journey watched Lucas soar into the sky, his scales the gold of sunlight against the deep blue sky, until he vanished between one blink and the next.
She lay on her back on the grass, looking up into the sky. After the dullness of her first twenty-two years, her life had become such a rollercoaster. Europe. Brandusa. Assassins. Dragons. Lucas. She’d gotten everything she’d ever dreamed of and more. And if she lost it— if she lost him— her heart would break and never mend.
“He’s a dragon,” she said aloud, trying to convince herself. “He’ll be perfectly safe. If anyone tries to hurt him, he can bite their head off or stab them with his sword or punch them and break their nose.”
She wasn’t normally a violent person, but the thought consoled her. She just wanted Lucas to return safe and sound.
Journey lay for a while in the sun, thinking of Lucas and watching butterflies flit about the garden. She was so still that a huge butterfly with a black body and shocking pink wings landed on her chest. It rested there a while, while she hardly dared to breathe, and then flew off to resume its quest for nectar.
She stood up with a sigh, gathered up the breakfast tray, and headed back for the kitchen. Since she had no other way to make herself useful, at least she’d wash the dishes.
Help Lucas!
The breakfast tray fell from her hands. Journey spun around, looking for the source of the voice. But no one was there.
Lucas needs you!
This time she recognized the voice as coming from within her, not from outside. It was her own thought, but so urgent and fierce that she hadn’t recognized it at first.
Go! Journey’s inner voice shouted. Go now!
Her heart was pounding, and her breath came fast. She felt as she had on the riverbank, when her gut had told her she was in danger. And her gut had been right.
That way!
But this was more than simple instinct. Journey not only knew that Lucas was in danger, she knew how to find him. She was drawn toward him like iron to a magnet: that way.
She didn’t doubt it for an instant. Lucas had already told her that because they were mates, he’d know if she was in danger. He hadn’t mentioned it working both ways— maybe Lucas himself hadn’t known that it could— but obviously it did.
Journey started to bolt that way, then stopped. All she knew was that he was in terrible danger and which way she needed to go. Her inner voice said nothing about what the danger was or how far away Lucas was. She had no idea what was going on or what she’d need to help him. And if there was one thing she’d learned as a backpacker, it was that if you were going to walk into a place you didn’t know much about, you’d better be prepared.