The Warrior King (Inferno Rising) by Owen, Abigail (reading a book txt) 📕

“No,” said the man who’d been labeled a mate stealer but apparently was something else entirely.

Interesting. Samael didn’t push. They hadn’t exactly been close before, the relationship more that of asshole, know-it-all older brother. Rune had once told him that to make him the best fighter he could be, the scariest motherfucker on the planet, meant soft feelings like friendship were a waste of time.

Granted, his training technique had worked. Samael had risen quickly through the ranks, taking over as captain when Rune left for the colonies.

“This will be hard to explain, since you haven’t experienced it.” How did you tell a cold bastard like Rune Abaddon that, even now, with her walking farther away from him, his lungs were constricting, making it harder to breathe? “It’s primal. A knowing that settles deep.”

“Primal,” Rune sneered over the word. “Like we’re only as good or bad as our animal? Uncontrollable?”

“You control your dragon. So do I. But do you remember the first time you shifted, that edge to it that you might slip? That something bigger, more powerful than you might take control and never give it back?”

Rune snorted. “If finding a mate is like that, then no thanks.”

Again, the edge to Rune’s voice told Samael more was going on with the other black dragon. Something deeper than what he was letting Sam see on the surface.

“I took one look at her, and my center shifted. So did what was important to me.” Humans must have felt similarly when they discovered that the sun was the center of the solar system, not the earth.

Rune clicked his tongue and shook his shoulders as though twitching a cape off. “For now, I’ll just be grateful that the fates didn’t land me with a phoenix who is meant for my king, who may or may not be dead.”

A laugh punched from Samael. “Fuck you.”

Rune grinned, or his version of it, one side of his mouth drawing up. “You’re not my type.” Without saying more, together they started down the hallway. “Does she know?” Rune asked.

Samael stuffed his hands in his pockets. “She doesn’t want to believe in fated mates.”

“Maybe you need to make her believe,” Rune murmured.

Samael had to keep from slamming a fist into the man’s face. He’d never force Meira to do anything. “You definitely don’t understand mates. Feel free to stay out of it.”

Rune didn’t so much as blink, then gave an easy shrug. “Good luck to you, then.”

Chapter Eleven

Meira kept quiet as Tyrek led her to what appeared to be a kitchen, stewing over what had just happened. It had been unfair of her to throw the eating thing back in Sam’s face…and call him her captain. He’d just been trying to take care of her. To be honest, that had been more about the shock, because she’d realized suddenly that losing him would cut her to the quick. More than that, actually, but she was terrified of examining those feelings more deeply, because if he was right…if they were mates…

“Here we are,” Tyrek said as they entered a larger space.

More or less a mess hall. A tall-ceilinged cavern, the space broken up by several large stalactites and stalagmites that had grown into each other, forming columns. The hum of what must be a generator used for electric power throughout the mountain hadn’t been as obvious in the tunnels, though a constant whir of sound and was louder here.

Harsh fluorescent lights cast a wavering purple hue over multiple wood picnic tables that reminded her of the one in their backyard in Kansas. They’d eaten out there when the weather was nice. She didn’t even remember walking by it today. The thing was probably starting to turn gray and splintered by now.

To one side, along a wall with pipes and wires hanging down, was a rudimentary kitchen setup with a long counter formed by a series of tall tables with laminate tops, an old fridge with chipped, yellow paint, and an oven/stove combo in an ugly green that was supposed to be avocado, but reminded her of baby poo. The thing would’ve fit right in at that Kansas house, too.

Home, sweet home. Sort of.

Thankfully, only a woman and kid were in the room. Good. Meira was starting to flag under the onslaught of each new person she had to deal with, had to create a relationship with or convince to believe her.

Aidan crossed the room to the petite blonde who was cooking. Based on the way she lit up, and the kiss he dropped on her lips, lifted for his touch, this had to be his mate. Sera, she thought was the name he’d mentioned.

A gangly boy ran at Aidan only to pull up short and shadow box with him, both man and boy laughing. They had a son? She got the impression their mating had been more…recent.

“Let’s get you fed,” Tyrek said.

Following her uncle’s lead and trying not to notice how Samael hadn’t shown up yet, Meira crossed the room.

“Welcome to our hideaway,” Sera said with a kind smile. The first Meira had received in a while if she was honest. “This is our son, Blake.”

“How do you do?” The boy, who couldn’t be more than nine or ten in both human and dragon years, held out a hand, a tiny man with an old soul.

Meira shook with all seriousness. “Lovely to meet you.”

“Do you want to see me shift?” Suddenly he was an eager little boy, his grin showing gaping holes where teeth should’ve been.

“You can shift already? I didn’t know that was possible at this age.” She glanced to his parents, and Sera rolled her eyes.

“Blake is my son from when I was human. When I shifted the first time, he did, too. It took a very long time for him to learn how to shift back.”

“Wow.” More questions piled up in her mind.

“Aidan says you’re a phoenix and on the run, too?” Sera asked,