Wicked Dark Dragon (Dragon Heat) (4 page)

Hating that he was in so much pain and in this awful situation because she had lured him here, Ivy rubbed the back of his neck and worked up the courage to kiss his cheek. “Sleep,” she urged. “They won’t bother us tonight.”

“How can you be sure?”

“The Seer is sleeping now. Her presence is dormant and cold.” She let him pull her head down to his chest and found such incredible comfort in having his strong arms curled around her body.

“Do they come during the day?”

“Sometimes they bring me food and water or an extra bucket to bathe.” Glad for the darkness of the cell, she added, “There’s a metal toilet in the corner if you need it. There’s water in the faucet but I wouldn’t drink it.”

“Good to know.” He grunted as he shifted his position. She started to climb off his lap but the steely bands of his arms clamped down on her. “Don’t even think about it.”

“But you’re hurt,” she protested. “You don’t need my weight on top of you.”

“I know what I need.” He tucked her head into the curve of his neck. “Now close your eyes and get some rest. We’re both going to need it.”

Relishing the strength and heat of him, Ivy feared he was right.

Three Days Later

C
hocolate or vanilla ice cream?” Mad picked up one of the cement chunks they were using as a makeshift chess piece and made a move on the hand-drawn grid she had put on the floor. With so many hours to fill, they had been forced to get creative with their entertainment. There were only so many games of tic-tac-toe and hangman scratched out with rocks against the floor two people could take.

They had settled into a familiar routine during their short time in captivity together. A guard banged on the door early in the morning to rouse them from sleep and shove food into the cell. With few choices of entertainment, they talked a lot. Mad tried to keep fit by putting together a circuit of exercises that he repeated three times a day. She sat in the corner and watched him, sometimes asking him about the gym he owned with Griff. She seemed genuinely interested in his tales so he indulged her endless questions.

There were hourly checks by the Knights throughout the day and another meal at sundown. Mostly, they were left alone. He had wondered about that strange tactic at first, but now he had his suspicions. During her nearly four weeks of imprisonment, Ivy’s captors had worn her down, mentally and physically. He hadn’t managed to save her yet, but that didn’t stop her from looking at him as if he were a damned hero. That was exactly what the Knights and the Seer wanted. They needed Ivy to trust him and fall for him.

This was all a game to the Knights and their Seer. Just as they hoped to encourage Ivy’s gratitude toward him by allowing him to infiltrate the prison after weeks of shared dreams, they provoked his protective instincts by keeping her chained with that collar wrapped around her neck. He was forced to behave himself, but he remained on edge and alert. His dragon recognized Ivy as his mate, and it was getting harder and harder to keep the primal side of himself suppressed.

His gut churned at the idea of Ivy being manipulated into caring for him. There was no denying their growing connection or his tender feelings toward her, but he wasn’t sure how much of her interest in him was real and how much of it was forced by their dangerous situation. He wanted her to like him and return his affection, but on her own terms.

Hoping to show her that she really could trust him to care for and protect her, Mad had gone out of his way to do whatever nice thing he could for her. The guards had allowed her to keep the shirt, and she had thanked him again and again for it. When possible, he tried to sneak her bits of his food, but the guards had used the threat of that shock collar to dissuade him from trying that too many times. At night, he shared his warmth with her, holding her close and making sure she felt protected.

Their first morning together in the cell, they had agreed to only speak of things that would be useless to the Knights if overheard. Her childhood, his childhood, her college experiences and his, their favorite things, their best friends—these were all safe topics they easily discussed. He could feel the heat of her insatiable curiosity burning so brightly, but she didn’t dare ask the questions that would give her the answers she so desperately wanted.

“Neither.” Ivy studied his new position with a gleeful gleam in her dark eyes. “I’m a chocolate chip cookie dough girl.”

He made a face. “I’m a purist.”

“And a loser,” she said with a mischievous grin. Showing her skill at the game, she pushed one of her bishop rocks into place and boxed his king into a corner with her king and another bishop. “Checkmate.”

“What? Again?” He sat back and studied the board. How had he missed that? “Damn. You’ve whipped my ass every match today.”

“I’m starting to think you like getting spanked by a girl.”

He smiled at her teasing remark. Even here in their awful predicament, she found a way to be silly and make him laugh. “Sorry, sweetheart, that’s not really my thing. Now if the roles were reversed?”

“Well, I wouldn’t know anything about those sorts of games.” She avoided his heated gaze and gathered up her remaining game pieces. Switching the topic to one that had nothing to do with sex, she asked, “Aren’t you, like, a thousand years old or something? Shouldn’t you be better at chess?”

The way she seemed embarrassed to even say the word
sex
concerned him. Was she
that
inexperienced? Last night, they had stumbled onto a discussion of their love lives. She had been dating quite a bit and having fun while in college, but, reading between the lines, he had pieced together that she hadn’t ever had a real lover. He sensed she was waiting for the right someone. The beast inside him snarled and snapped at the very idea of being the right man for her, the
first
man for her.

Not wanting to push her, he decided to let her direct the conversation wherever she wanted. “I am better at chess than this. It’s hard to play well when someone is using their special gift to win.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh please! I don’t need to push your thoughts or try to read you to beat you at chess.”

“Whatever.” He wasn’t about to admit that he was so distracted by her arousing scent and that amazing smile of hers that he couldn’t even focus on a proper chess strategy. “Would you like to play again?”

She shook her head. “It will be dark soon. We’ll lose the light before we finish another match.”

He glanced at the window high above on the far wall. Three days in this cell with only that thin slot as a peek to the outside world, and he was already feeling claustrophobic. Only the knowledge that poor Ivy had been dealing with these cramped spaces for so much longer kept him from complaining. If she could bear it, so would he.

“Do you think your friends will come soon?” She meticulously arranged the rocks against one side of the wall. In the short time they had spent together, he had become accustomed to her quirks. She liked things neat and tidy. Considering their current predicament, organizing rocks and keeping their living space clean was the only control she was allowed to exert over her life.

“Yes.” He didn’t know what was taking his Brothers so long to find them. He had been very clear in the message he had left Ignatius, giving their leader the coordinates of the prison and a full rundown of the Knight situation. “They know we’re here, and they know our situation. There must be something else keeping them.”

His stomach knotted with dread as he considered what that something might be. Had the Knights gotten to Griff and Avani? Had they attempted to hurt Stig and Cora again? Or was it even worse than that? Had he been lured here with Ivy as a way to weaken the Brotherhood?

The faraway sound of boots thudding against stone interrupted his troubled thoughts. Shoving to his feet, Mad closed his eyes and listened. He was grateful for the way Ivy seemed to instinctively understand that she needed to be still and quiet so he could use his heightened senses. He counted the different footfalls. Seven Knights were headed right for their cell.

“Get up,” he urged. “Stay behind me.”

“Where else would I go?” She rattled her chains. Not for the first time, he considered just yanking them out of the wall but that shock collar around her neck kept him from acting. He had seen the evidence of healing burns on her skin from the evil device and refused to be the one to cause her any more pain.

The door at the end of the hall burst open and the Knights flooded into the hallway outside their cell. Mad pushed Ivy behind him but kept a grip on the fabric of the shirt she wore. Seven against two—well, one really—weren’t very good odds but he’d gotten out of worse situations.

The head guard stepped forward and lobbed a key into the cell. “Remove the chains from her cuffs.”

Mad spotted the Knight holding the controller for the collar wrapped around Ivy’s neck. He chose to follow the order rather than risk harming her. He used the key to open the small padlock covering the spot where the chains hooked onto the thick metal cuffs. The chains dropped to the floor with a noisy clang. When she was free of her bonds, Ivy pressed against his side. The dragon within him rejoiced at the way she sought his protection and reassurance. He curled his arm around her shoulders and hauled her closer.

A new set of chains and cuffs were thrown into the cell. “Put those on him. Hook yourselves together.”

Ivy knelt down and picked up the cuffs and chains. She eyed them for a few seconds before moving toward him. Nervously, she glanced up at him. His stoic nod convinced her to wrap his wrists and ankles in the heavy cuffs. Only the wrist cuffs had chains, so she stepped in front of him and attached the chains to her bonds.

Bound together, Mad recognized how very limited his ability to protect her was now. He suspected that was the plan. He couldn’t shift without hurting her, and if he tried to fight, she would be caught in the crossfire. Whatever the Knights had planned for them tonight, they wanted to be sure he couldn’t lash out and attack them.

After opening their cell, the head guard unsheathed a long and menacing cattle prod. “One wrong move, dragon, and I’ll pop her hard enough to stop that fragile half-human heart. Understand?”

Mad gritted his teeth. His inner beast snarled and snapped to be set free. He shoved down the urge to shift and protect his mate. “Yes.”

“The Seer has decided that you two have earned the right to a good meal and a hot shower. This is a privilege I’m only too happy to yank.” He waved the cattle prod in a threatening gesture. “She leads the way. You put your hands on her shoulders.”

Mad did as instructed. He ran his thumbs up and down her skin, massaging her taut muscles and sending her silent encouragement to relax. Wondering if she might be able to hear him, he concentrated very hard and projected a simple message into his thoughts.
Do what they want. They won’t hurt us. We’re valuable.

She looked back at him, their gazes meeting briefly, before she turned her attention back to the cattle-prod-wielding Knight. Leaning back against him, she put two ominous words into his head.
For now
.

He didn’t disagree with her but didn’t want to start down that path. At the moment, Ivy had something the Knights wanted, and they needed Mad’s help to get it. He would do whatever it took to thwart those plans—unless it put Ivy at risk. For the first time in centuries, he found himself conflicted about his role in the Brotherhood. He had sworn that the cause—defending dragons and saving the species from eradication by the Knights—was his number-one priority. But now?

Now this dark-haired sprite with a deep belly laugh and a wicked sense of humor made him want to reevaluate that position. If he had to choose between Ivy and the Brotherhood tonight, he feared he would make a decision that would seal his fate in a bad way. It was only a matter of time until the Knights resorted to pain to make her talk or reveal whatever secrets she possessed. Could he stand back and watch her suffer to protect all dragons? Or would he urge her to shame the devil and spill it all to save herself?

A slight tug on the chains tore him away from that uncomfortable quandary. Ivy followed the lead Knight down the hallway. Boxed in by the rest of their escort team, Mad kept close to her. He had seen quite a bit of the prison on the night he had been taken captive. Now, he mentally sketched in the details he had missed that first time.

The historic fortress had been renovated and retrofitted by the Knights for their nefarious purposes. From what he could tell, they were only using one wing of the building. At present, there were no other prisoners inside the complex, but he had no doubt the cells had been occupied recently. The stink of despair and death clung to the very stones of the place.

They were led into a space that resembled the locker room at the gym he owned with Griff. The white tiled walls were lined with shower heads on one side of the room and toilet stalls on the other. A long bench sat in front of a row of lockers. Someone had dragged a table into the locker room and placed it near the bench. The delicious scents wafting from the covered dishes sitting on that table tempted him.

Ivy’s stomach growled noisily. The rumbling emptiness of it made him feel lower than mud. Thinking of how hungry she must be, he decided he wouldn’t ask her to refuse the food offered to them. It was very obviously a bribe but she needed the nourishment. As tiny as she was, she couldn’t stand to lose even one more pound.

“We’re not hungry.” Ivy turned away from the food, but he spotted the tightness around her mouth that told him she was absolutely ravenous. “You can take it away.”

“No.” Mad overrode her with a gentle hand to her shoulder. “We’ll take it.”

She frowned at him. “But—”

He silenced her by placing his fingertip to her lips. He didn’t think he could muster the focus to send her another message so he hoped she could read his face. “We’ll eat.”

She didn’t argue with him but she tugged his hand away from her face. He had a distinct feeling that he would be hearing an earful about that mistake once they were alone in their cell again.

Taking her hand, he led her over to the bench and sat. Because their arms were joined together with long chains, Mad pulled her down onto his lap. He picked up a spoon and took a taste of each of the dishes. When he was assured there were no traces of chemicals, poisons, or potions, he allowed Ivy to dig into the meal. She took her time eating, chewing each bite deliberately and picking the highest-calorie foods on the table.

Impressed with her strategy, he kissed her temple. Since being thrown in her cell, he had fought the overwhelming need to touch and nuzzle her, but right now he couldn’t help himself. She responded so sweetly to his tender kiss and pressed closer. He hoped she found his body heat comforting and reassuring.

After their meal, they were handed travel-sized toiletries and towels and pointed in the direction of the showers and sinks. “She can remove the collar for now.” The head guard waved the cattle prod. “Don’t do anything stupid. Water. Electricity. It’s not a good combination.”

Mad glared at the Knight and steered Ivy toward the nearest sink. He carefully removed the collar and tossed it aside. She rose on tiptoes to see her reflection in the mirror. He gently tilted her head to the side to examine the burn marks on her neck and the raw line the collar had rubbed on her skin. She hissed when he prodded the area. He shot her an apologetic look. “Sorry.”