Burned by Darkness - Alexandra Ivy Page 0,4

paled to an ugly shade of ash. It was never wise to piss off a dragon.

“Very well.”

“Wait,” Baine abruptly commanded.

Yaki reluctantly turned back to eye him with a wary expression.

“What?”

“Release the females.”

The troll widened his crimson eyes in shock. “Release them?”

“Do you have a hearing problem?” Baine drawled.

“No, my lord.” The idiot gave a sharp clap of his hand and the smaller troll who was standing near the door hurried to unlock the iron cuffs that were used to hold the women captive. Giving a deep bow, Yaki backed out of the room. “Me go now.”

Baine barely noticed the females who giggled and fluttered near the doorway. Even freed of their chains they sought to capture his attention.

Instead his focus remained locked on the troll who continued to back away. Sneaky bastard.

“You’ll return with my payment.”

Yaki bobbed a deep bow. “Yes, my lord.”

“Soon.”

“Yes, yes. Soon.”

Baine waited until the bastard thought he was on the point of a clean getaway.

“And Yaki?” he murmured ever so softly.

The demon froze in fear. “Me?”

“Yes you, you dolt. If I hear you’re dealing in the slave trade again I’ll have you skinned and roasted for dinner.” He smiled, the fire dancing over his skin. “Understood?”

“Understood,” the troll choked out, no longer trying to hide his terror as he turned and trampled two women as well as his fellow troll on his way out of the door.

Baine snorted, glancing toward the tall, slender male dressed in crisp white shirt and black pants. Char was a half-breed dragon with short silver hair and eyes the color of a thunderstorm.

He’d been given to Baine on the day that Baine had left his father’s lair, and the two had been inseparable since that moment nearly five hundred years ago.

Stepping from the shadows, Char efficiently rid the throne room of the females who were covertly trying to inch in Baine’s direction. Once sure the intruders had been escorted back through the portal to their own world, the servant returned to study Baine with a faint smile.

“How many times must I warn them that I’m not interested in slaves?”

There was a momentary pause, as if Char was recalling a time when one particular slave had entranced Baine. Thankfully, the younger male might be irreverent, mocking, and occasionally defiant, but he was never, ever stupid.

No one mentioned the female who’d once dared to defy him.

Not even Baine’s closest friend.

“Trolls have never been burdened with intelligence,” Char said instead, strolling across the polished floor to stand directly in front of the throne. “And they’re accustomed to dealing with your father, who still clings to the old ways.”

Baine’s lips twitched. His father was definitely old-school.

Pillaging, raping, scorching entire civilizations when the mood took him.

“Do I sense disapproval for my refusal to remain in the Dark Ages?” he murmured.

Char chuckled. Like Baine, he’d shrugged off the chains of the past and embraced the new world.

“The women might have been slaves, but not one of them would have said no if you’d asked them to stay.”

“I don’t need a troll to be my pimp,” Baine growled. “I can have any woman I want.”

Char cocked a brow. “Is that why your harem is empty?”

Sparks flickered over Baine’s skin, his tattoos swirling until he managed to regain control over his temper.

His empty harem was yet another conversational no-no.

“Who’s next?” he snapped, his voice edged with annoyance.

Usually he enjoyed collection days. What wasn’t to enjoy?

There was money. Gold. Precious gems. And an occasional artifact that was worthy of his library.

But today he was feeling…odd.

As if he had an itch deep inside him that he couldn’t scratch.

“Cava, King of the Rock Clan,” Char answered his question, although his expression was speculative as Baine tapped his fingers on the arm of the massive throne.

“Diamonds, I suppose?” Baine muttered. The orc still owed Baine for services he’d performed nearly four hundred years ago.

Char shrugged. “It’s rumored that he discovered a rare text buried in the mountains. I know how you love your musty books so I told him to bring the manuscript instead of the gems.”

“Good. Send him in…” Baine’s words died on his lips as he abruptly surged to his feet. “Wait.”

Char was instantly at his side. “My lord?”

Baine closed his eyes, allowing his senses to rush toward the portal that had remained open.

There. He sucked in a deep breath, savoring the scent he’d been searching for, for over twenty-five years.

Tart and sweet, like lemonade on a hot summer day.

“It’s her,” he rasped, refusing to accept he could be mistaken. “At