Hidden Dragon (The Treasure of Paragon Book 7) by Genevieve Jack (best book club books .txt) 📕

sundown, Demidicus will hand her her ass. She’ll have thousands of vampires draining her troops dry.” He sprouted talons from his right hand. “Stand back.” These orbs were supposed to be indestructible, right? Sylas was about to test that theory.

Dianthe helped Aborella clear out of the way. Sylas jumped and brought the full weight of his fist down on the mosaic. The floor shattered into pieces, coming apart at the masonry that held it to the obsidian. He used his talons to pry up the orb. “Got it. Let’s get the packs and go.”

“I’m not sure we should bother with those packs,” Dianthe said. The guard had picked up speed and was riding hard toward Paragon.

Sylas shoved the orb into Aborella’s hands and swept her into his arms. “Hold on tight to me, Dianthe. I’m going to move fast. I can only keep the three of us invisible for so long, and we need to get through that gate before the troops arrive.” He showed her the seal of the palace he’d stolen off the horse’s bridle. As long as he could keep them invisible, they should have no problem slipping through the wards.

She gripped his hand. “I’m with you.”

They took off together, soaring over the grounds and slipping past the guardhouse, then veering behind Hobble Glen. By force of instinct, he headed toward the hills on the edge of Everfield.

“No, Sylas. We can’t go to Everfield. She’s stationed troops there,” Dianthe said.

Exhausted, Sylas dropped his invisibility and swerved in the only direction left to take. He flew east, toward Darnuith, into the black mountains.

The moment they crossed the border, snow and wind howled into them. There was a reason Sylas had avoided coming here until he had no choice. The borders of Darnuith were protected with magic that made it always winter. A magic spell intentionally rendered the environment unbearably cold to strangers. It wasn’t long before he felt Dianthe struggling to fly.

“My wings are freezing,” she yelled over the gale-force winds. Her wings were icing over. Much longer and they would freeze entirely, and then she’d come crashing down.

“We have to land.” He dropped to the snowy mountainside and gathered her into his arms. They didn’t have the gear for this weather. Aborella rested, helpless, in one arm, and Dianthe pressed herself against him, desperate for his warmth. He wrapped his wings around both of them.

“We need to find shelter,” Dianthe yelled. “Someplace to warm up until we can figure out what to do.”

He searched the mountainside. The suns oozed lower behind the mountains. Aborella didn’t even have shoes. “It’s been a long time since I was here. We’ve got no warm clothing or gear, I’m too tired to fly us out of here undetected, and the nearest rebel safe house is in Mistcraven, which is at least a ten-mile hike at altitude through icy terrain.”

Aborella’s eyes loomed large inside the shelter of his wings, her grip firm on the orb. He regretted laying things out as grimly as he had. She looked like she hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days and was a filthy, bloody mess. Although there was nothing but terror in her expression, she didn’t say a word, just hugged the orb to her chest as if she trusted he would not abandon her as long as it was in her grip.

Sylas had long hated Aborella, and his empathy was far thinner than his mate’s even now. But he had to admit to some sympathy for her. What Eleanor had done to her was dark indeed. He knew better than anyone that it would be a punishment she’d carry with her for the rest of her life.

“I don’t suppose you could fly us to Mistcraven without invisibility?” Dianthe leaned into his side, looking drawn.

“You’d freeze to death before we got there. I can’t keep my wings wrapped around you and fly at the same time.” Dragons were impervious to cold, but fairies were not.

She groaned. “Our choices are a ten-mile hike huddled together like narwits in mating season or a potentially suicidal jaunt over the mountain into Everfield where the Guard might be waiting for us?”

“I’d prefer door number three if there is one. Fire up that second sight.” Sylas looked at her expectantly.

Dianthe took a deep breath. “I’ll do my best.”

A vision was not something she could demand from the universe. It wasn’t owed to her. For Dianthe, seeing the future was like a biological function. It happened regularly, like a heartbeat, and just the same, happened in its own time.

Still, there were ways she’d found to welcome or hinder her sight. As she had at Solaris Lake, she closed her eyes and relaxed her shoulders. Breathing deeply, she visualized a light branching outward with a million bright and welcoming hands. I am here and I am ready. She opened the cage of her mind, sprinkled the birdseed, and waited.

It worked. A vision rammed into her, sending her eyes rolling back in her head. She watched the images unfold one after the other. By the time she came back into herself, she had what they needed.

“There’s a cabin.” She pointed east. “An old hunting cabin, less than a mile from here. There’s a woodburning stove, and I saw us eating.”

He landed a kiss on her forehead, lifted her, and broke into a jog in the direction she’d pointed. They reached the small log cabin in minutes, just as the suns set and a fierce snowstorm moved in.

Dianthe pulled open the door and saw the room exactly as she’d pictured it. While Sylas placed a barely conscious Aborella on the sofa and covered her with a dusty blanket, Dianthe did her best to start a fire in the stove. There was dry wood, thank the goddess, and a tin of matches. In no time, the small space began to warm.

Sylas came up behind her and wrapped a fur blanket around her shoulders.

“Where did you find this?”

“At the end of the bed.” He