Zanaikeyros - Son of Dragons (Pantheon of Dragons #1)(86)
He hissed at both dragyri, and the Dragyr roared, sounding like a pair of T. rex, and that’s when Zane hurled a bolt of red fire at Salem’s chest, and the second mercenary lunged at his throat. The blaze engulfed Salem’s torso, even as a pair of saber-sized fangs tore at his vulnerable jugular. Unholy hell, he could not go down this easily.
Snatching the second male by the shoulders, even as the dragyri remained latched to Salem’s throat, Salem dipped beneath the water to extinguish the agonizing fire, and took the dragyri with him.
Zane dove beneath the surface and struck Salem between the eyes, his orbital sockets collapsing.
Shit, shit, and more shit!
He was blind!
Salem writhed and bucked, trying to dislodge the feral warrior from his throat and boot Zane further away. His right hoof made contact with Zane’s forehead and drove the dragyri backward. Swallowing an unwanted gulp of salty water, Salem went for the kill—he had to strike fast. He swiped and slashed and stabbed with his claws, filleting the feral dragyri’s flesh, even as he released his urine to infuse the water with acid.
The second dragyri released Salem’s throat, and Salem kneed him in the gonads.
Zane was coming at him again—Salem could feel the shift in the water—so he used his organ as a stingray: Isolating and transforming that singular part of his body back into beetle form, he infused the barbed penis with poison. Hell, fire, and brimstone, he couldn’t see, but he could still hump if he had to.
Apparently, Zane was unimpressed.
He drove his hand between Salem’s legs and ripped the organ from his pelvis.
And that’s when the second, feral dragyri tore into Salem’s abdomen and started removing his intestines.
Great Father of the pagan realm, Salem was going to die.
Right here. Right now. Right in the Dragon Sea…
He reached wildly and blindly for anything he could latch onto, and his skeletal fist caught purchase of the second dragyri’s amulet. He yanked with everything he had—tugged and pulled and wrenched with every ounce of supernatural power he possessed—but the amulet would not give way.
“Son of a bitch!” he tried to scream, but he only gulped more water. His lungs were burning like lava—they felt like they were on fire.
And then he heard the most awesome, terrifying sound he had ever perceived in his countless lifetimes: the sound of wings, the size of a ship, beating in the air above the ocean. A dragon screeched, and the vibration shook the waters like a gale-force wind, parting the sea all around them. And then he felt an enormous compression in the air as a high-pressure area was created in front of him. Great Lord Drakkar, the dragon was swooping down, presumably to clutch Salem in its talons.
The torture, the agony, the suffering he would endure if he was captured by a dragon lord was beyond what he could imagine. He would rather take his own life and end it now than become the captive of an ancient serpent.
But how?
How would he do it?
Before he could answer the question, the compression rose to a crescendo—he felt Zane and the second dragyri draw back, and his rib cage was impaled by an enormous cluster of talons. The pain was beyond comprehension.
Mindless, terrified, and grasping at straws, Salem held on for dear life to the second dragyri’s amulet—he would make the primordial god take a dragyri son with him, and he would try with all his might to kill the bastard while they soared through the air like wounded carrion. Most likely on their way to the temple.
Salem would not die without a victory!
And that’s when he heard the sonic boom!
And light assailed his vision.
Another opening in the atmosphere channeled through the sacred amulet.
A gargantuan, inky-black hand with razor-sharp chiseled claws reached through the tear in dimensions, snatched Salem by the throat, and tugged him violently forward, causing the dragon’s talons to rip like blades through his flesh.
He screamed like a banshee, assailed by the ungodly pain, and then he let go of the amulet, dropped his arms to the sides, and sighed in blessed relief.
He knew this dark, evil presence.
It had gifted him with his pagan life.
Lord Hades had punched through the portal, using Salem’s physical connection to the dragyri’s amulet—and while the king wasn’t able to enter Dragons Domain, he was able to pull Salem out.
“Thank you, most venerable father,” Salem breathed.
And then he passed out.
Chapter Thirty-four
Zane scrambled from the shoreline and sprinted to his dragyra, desperate to see that she was okay. “Jordan!” he shouted, forgetting he was naked as he dropped to his knees in front of her. “Baby,” he whispered anxiously, cupping her face in his hands. “Are you all right? Did the demon hurt you?”
She was trembling, her eyes were open wide with shock, but she didn’t appear to be hurt. In fact, her clothes were on—she had managed to get dressed—and Zane couldn’t smell any blood. “I’m…I’m okay,” she murmured. “He never even touched me.” She glanced down at her lap and shuddered. “At least I don’t think he touched me.”
Zane ran his hands all over her body to check her smaller frame for injuries, then he closed his eyes to listen to her heart and took a moment to check her pulse. When he was certain that she hadn’t been injured, he drew her into his arms and held her like his life depended on the contact: which, honestly, it kind of did. “I’m sorry, angel. I’m so, so sorry. This has never happened before. A pagan has never entered this realm.”