Feel the Burn (Dragon Kin #8)(90)

“They said I wasn’t ready to commit. That I wasn’t ready to give myself . . . completely. So they sent me back.”

“Who sent you back?”

“They sent me back here and I then realized they were right. I couldn’t go on like this. Like them. Mother and Harkin and . . . you.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“So beholden to the whores.”

Aidan’s hands curled into fists. “If you have any sense, brother, you’ll shut up now.”

“Or what? You’ll kill me for betraying a She-dragon unworthy of your devotion? So very foolish, brother. Now I have made my commitment. Now I am ready to act.”

Slowly Ainmire stood and, just as slowly, faced him.

Horrified, Aidan stumbled back. “Your eyes, brother. Where are your eyes?” he screamed.

“I do not need eyes to see the evil before me, boy. You come here and bring true evil with you, without once questioning. Without thinking. Because you are beholden to them.”

Ainmire suddenly lifted the axe he’d held low against his side and swung it at Aidan’s head.

His aim, even without his eyes, was true, and the only thing that saved Aidan was his speed. He’d learned to move fast among the Mì-runach.

He dropped to the ground and scrambled back, away from Ainmire. His brother lifted the axe again, his eyeless gaze locked directly on Aidan.

Aidan didn’t know if it was because it was his brother or just general fear, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. All he could do was wait until that axe came down.

And it did. Right for Aidan’s head. But a hand reached out of the dark of the hall, grabbing Ainmire’s wrist and stopping the axe before it met its target.

Marina Aleksandrovna stood behind Ainmire. She yanked his arm back with one hand and drove her blade into his chest with the other.

Without a word, she shoved the dragon off her blade and over the stone banister to the floor below.

“We move. Now,” she ordered, walking away from Aidan and going down the hall to wake up the others.

Forcing himself to get to his feet, Aidan moved to the banister and looked over. There was blood where his brother had landed, but . . .

Aidan scanned the floor and saw his brother, still in his human form, stumbling toward the front doors. Ainmire had his hand over his chest, and there was a trail of blood behind him.

But, by all rights, Aidan’s brother should be dead. A dragon in human form, impaled directly in the heart, does not survive. But giving his soul—and eyes—up to his new god, must have changed everything about him.

For Ainmire was not only surviving . . . he was on the move.

“Out!” Aidan yelled, running down the halls of his kin, and banging on the doors. “Everyone, out!”

His mother yanked her door open. She probably never slept in these rooms, but tonight she’d wanted to be as close to the Rebel King as she could manage.

“What?” she barked at him. “What’s happening?”

“We need to go.”

“Go? Go where?”

“In.” He grabbed her arm, yanking her out of her room. Aidan pointed toward the cave entrance that began at the back of the hall. “Go.”

By now, his two eldest sisters and other brother were out in the hall.

“Go,” he ordered. “To the caves.”

“What for?” Cinnie demanded. “You’re home five minutes, and already you’re annoying the hells out of me.”

Caswyn and Uther, already dressed and ready for battle—they probably had gone to bed clothed and with weapons, if they went to bed at all—stalked toward him.

“Take my mother and sisters,” he commanded.

“And your brother?”

Aidan rolled his eyes. “Who cares?” he asked as he moved off in the opposite direction.

“I care!” Harkin complained. “I care very much!”

Aidan saw Brannie coming toward him. “I have to find my sister Orla.”

Brannie pushed her door open. “Come on.”

He leaned into the room and saw his sister crawl out from under Brannie’s bed.

“What—?”

“I was going to sneak her out with us when we were done. Figured she could stay at Devenallt Mountain.”

“It looks like that will be happening anyway.”

He kissed Orla’s forehead before pushing her toward the others.

Brannie began to follow but he caught her arm, held it. “Thank you. For looking out for her.”

“It’s the little sister club,” she replied, giving him a wink. “I’m a founding member.”

Aidan released her and watched the Rebel King stride up to him. He was no longer Gaius, dragon searching out and eliminating the rogue elements of his kin. Now he appeared kingly and very royal. A dragon ready for anything.

“What’s happening?” the king asked. A cold but prepared Kachka Shestakova stood by his side.

“My brother Ainmire . . . we’ve been betrayed, King Gaius.”

“How badly?”

Aidan glanced at his mother, brother, and sisters as they made their way down the stairs. “His eyes are gone. Torn out of his head since the feast.”

“So,” he said simply, “very badly.”