Zanaikeyros - Son of Dragons (Pantheon of Dragons #1)(87)
Jordan nodded, her skin as pale as the moonlight, and then she pointed a drooping finger toward the apex of the beach, and stuttered: “Y…y…you might want to put some clothes on.”
Zane glanced over his shoulder to check the scene for himself: Lord Dragos was standing like a raptor on the beach in his magnificent dragon form, and he was showering Ghost Dragos, who was curled up beneath him like a baby, in silver-blue flames.
So the dragon lord did care whether Ghost lived or died…
Hmm…that was interesting.
Zane glanced down at his own naked body and appraised his various wounds—he was pretty sure he had a hoofmark on his forehead; there were lacerations all over his torso, plus acid burns on his pecs and his abs; and his right hand was swollen with poison, but not enough to matter. He could heal all of his wounds himself, with the exception of any bruises on his brow. But yeah, he should probably get dressed.
He reached for his form-fitting boxers and jeans, and quickly slid them onto his torso. Then he stood to his full, proud height and helped Jordan up.
“What do we do?” she asked nervously, her voice still trembling.
Zane shook his head. “Nothing. Not when it comes to Lord Dragos. Just stand here and wait…and avert your eyes. If he wants us, he’ll let us know.”
She nodded faintly. “And what about the dragyri—the one on the beach. Who is he?”
“That’s Ghost,” Zane said softly. “Do you remember him from the bunker? He’s the one Axe told us about, the one who almost took a bite out of Nakai.”
Jordan grimaced as she thought it over, and then she slowly inclined her head. “Uh, yeah, I remember. I remember thinking, What an animal, but then that animal just saved our lives and took a beating doing it.” She averted her gaze, looking pained and ashamed, and then she stared at his still-naked chest—at all the scrapes and cuts and dark, maroon scars, the various burns from the demon’s acid. “Zane, you’re hurt.” She glanced at his hand—it was swollen like a bright red blowfish. She turned her attention to his forehead and winced. “Oh my gosh, dragyri, that looks awful. Shouldn’t you go get healed yourself?” She gestured toward Lord Dragos.
Zane chuckled, low and deep, a cynical snicker in his throat—um, that was never going to happen. Not even if he was on death’s door, which he wasn’t. “I’m fine, angel. I can heal most of the wounds myself. If there’s anything else I need, my lair-mates will take care of it.”
She wrinkled up her brow. “But then why does he need the dragon—why does Ghost need Lord Dragos to heal him?”
Zane stared a second time at the odd paternal scenario playing out on the sands, and he let the question fully sink in…until, finally, it occurred to him: “Ghost doesn’t need Lord Dragos to heal—Lord Dragos needs to heal Ghost. Ghostaniaz is his Genesis Son.”
Jordan shifted her weight and frowned. “Well then, why isn’t Lord Saphyrius here? Isn’t he worried about you?”
“Believe me,” Zane reassured her, “he’s watching. He’s just not as…possessive…over his lair as Lord Dragos.” He hoped the fearsome dragon was too busy to pay attention. “I will probably spend the majority of the day tomorrow in the temple, along with Ghost. The gods are going to want to sort this out.”
Jordan nodded. “Figure out how the demon got into The Pantheon—find out how he escaped?”
She shuddered, and Zane smiled.
He couldn’t help it.
His dragyra was truly an angel—a bright, beautiful, perceptive miracle—and she’d learned so much, so very quickly.
She didn’t miss a trick.
Lord Dragos snorted possessively in the distance, and Zane reached out to take Jordan’s hand. “Be still, dragyra. Say nothing more. Let the dragon attend to his son.”
As those ominous words lingered, Zane and Jordan linked their fingers and watched from a distance as the savage dragon nuzzled the male with his snout, dragged him to his feet with his talons, and then flipped him onto his back with one wing.
With a thunderous roar that shook the beach, the dragon released a ferocious ring of fire. Then the onyx serpent took three giant steps, bounding across the sand, and leapt into the air, where he spread his wings and circled high above them, heading back toward the Onyx Lair.
Chapter Thirty-five
Friday – 8:00 PM
Secure in the knowledge that Jordan was with Levi, Nakai, and Jace, safe in the Sapphire Lair, Zane glanced at the apartment door in front of him—13B—and nodded silently at Axe.
As expected, Zane had spent the entire day on Friday sequestered in the temple with Ghost and the dragon lords, debriefing the gods on the incident at the beach, brainstorming along with them about how the demon got into Dragons Domain, and listening as the all-powerful dragons discussed the mystics and science of Lord Hades Drakkar punching his fist through the portal in order to retrieve one of his own. They knew he’d used the power of Ghost’s amulet, but they were surprised that he’d possessed the magic to do so.
Meanwhile, Jordan had been forced to go to the Topaz Lair to meet with Misty Collins, Tiberius’ dragyra mate, without Zane present: With only three days left until Jordan’s rebirth at the temple, it had been time to procure her dress (an enchanted gown that would not burn—a fact Zane hadn’t shared with Jordan); the jewels that would adorn her hair; and to go through the basic preliminaries of the upcoming ceremony—all things that were usually done with another dragyra.