Caged by Damnation (Caged #2)(62)

He smiled, and for the first time I saw that all of his teeth came to sharp points. "The Draconians. We're a brotherhood, but we don't all come from the same womb. You should rest. I only came in here to keep an eye on you." With that, he turned back to the garden.

His dismissal irritated me. "Imagine having no idea if your brothers were alive, injured, or missing. Would you be content to lay abed and listen to the birds chirp as if all was right in the world?" His head swung my way. "You can't expect me to cower without seeing to my loved ones. That's not who I am, and while I appreciate your help in escaping that army, you are not the boss of me."

I flung the covers back and raced for the door, determined to seek out the fate of my friends and family. He let me go, his deep eyes staring at the empty bed I had vacated. The quick movement made me dizzy, but I caught myself against the wall outside the room.

In a narrow hallway, I staggered forward, passing doors, trying to reach the opening at the end. These walls weren't wooden, but divided into three equal sections. The center was a mural of wild times with jagged rocks sprouting from a flaming ground. A dragon curled around the center rock with a determined cast to her yellow eyes. Her young were scattered about the picture, welcoming the fire and basking in it. The large dragon held a proud posture, her indigo wings open over her young black shoulders, cast back in pride. Either side of the mural was a muted champagne wallpaper.

The hallway came to a wide open space with a kitchen in the corner to my right, a small dining room in the far corner, and a fireplace in the center of the living room. To my left, I spied another passage, though this one looked longer than the other.

The kitchen cabinets were unfinished light wood with black iron handles and a crisscross pattern on the doors. A single light fixture illuminated the area, displaying little decoration or creature comforts. It had a stove, coffeemaker, knife block, and microwave, though I doubted that any of them would work. A sink was placed next to a jutting counter with barstools pulled to it. A dye-cut border in earth tones with autumn leaves painted on it traced the kitchen at the top of the walls and above the counter.

Pots and pans hung from a wall beside the kitchen on hooks, and a fridge rested next to them. Other than a window in the kitchen above the stove, and one in the dining room, there were no other windows in this part of the cottage. A rickety table was positioned at the center of the dining room. The scratches across its circular surface could give me a run for my money and the chairs didn't fare much better.

I spun towards the fireplace, bringing on another dizzy spell, and leaned into the bronze recliner closest to me. It was accompanied by a rocking chair with a throw against the backrest, a sofa, and loveseat. Chunks of stone made up the wall around the unlit fireplace with weapons resting on shelves, secured by metal crescents. Lanterns hung from the rafters, and a bookcase lay to the side with volumes I didn't recognize.

Someone cleared their throat behind me. "It's nice to see you up." I spun around to find Rafe standing in the opposite hallway. His arm was in a sling and a bandage had been wrapped around his head.

Worried, I walked to him quickly. "Are you okay? What about Izzy? Did she make it out? Is she hurt too?"

He laughed. "Slow down. I have a concussion. It's difficult to follow what you're saying. Besides that, I have a migraine that feels like my head’s being crushed by a hummer." He sighed. "I'll be fine. This is more for show than anything." He lifted his injured arm, but the wince it elicited made me more concerned. "Izzy's okay." He paused. "When you see her... expect a shock."

"What about the others?”

Before Rafe could answer, the strange man from my bedroom intruded. "Already charming the women? Even injuries don't slow you down." He spoke with a drawl and intense dislike.

Rafe's eyes became guarded. "What can I say? There are those who are born to please women and then there's you." He bared his teeth, but quickly hid them when he faced me. "Don't mind Nicolai. He was raised in the wild and doesn't know how to play nice with others."

I felt like I was standing in the middle of a feud.

Before Nicolai could retaliate, Maloc walked through the door beside the kitchen and stopped at the sight of the two Draconians facing off. "Are you two getting at it again?" He sighed. "Sometimes it's like babysitting two toddlers! You're brothers, work out your issues and get over them."

I waved a hello and his stare turned to me. "The last time I saw you, you were thrusting your friend into my arms rather than saving yourself. That was rather selfless of you, but she wasn't too happy about it."

Ignoring the comment about Isis's discontented behavior, I changed the subject. "Aren't they all brothers? I mean, Nicolai or whatever his name is, said they were a brotherhood." I looked to Nicolai for confirmation.

He shook his head and stared in Rafe's direction. "Unfortunately, some of us have the same mother. Luckily, we have different fathers." The tone of his voice was chilling and I was grateful that it wasn't directed at me, though I could have done without the silence that followed.

"Savannah?" The voice was decidedly feminine, but unlike any I had heard before. It carried a strange lilt, as if the owner had lived in a secluded area of the world that no one had heard of.

When I angled myself to view the owner, I was dumbstruck. Izzy was speaking in a voice that wasn't hers, or at least wasn't the one I was used to, but she was speaking. She pushed Rafe aside and ran into my arms. Tears marred my shirt, but coupled with the blood from my torn stitches I didn't care. Besides, I could be starting a new fad.