The Protector (Fire's Edge #4) - Abigail Owen Page 0,66
Maybe they’d spent too much time in the colonies.
“You didn’t see their faces,” he said to Roan. “Lyndi’s mating was exactly the catalyst to get them to react. And those orphans are family to them. They won’t accept them being sent away. Combined, after the pressure we’ve put them under these last months, it will be like a spark to tinder.”
Roan said nothing, but that tended to be his version of agreement.
“Any mention of the groups in their territory that we’ve…visited?”
“Not a word.” Pathetic. What kind of enforcers didn’t know what was going on in the communities they protected? He’d absconded with a damn mate, and not a blip. Unless the black dragons hadn’t reported it.
“That’ll help with getting Shula,” Roan said.
It would. Only having to deal with the small community of black dragons would be a hell of a lot easier than taking on enforcers.
On the other hand, taking Shula would no doubt hit the radar of other groups of dragon shifters nearby. If he worked it right, putting the blame on the Huracáns, continuing to turn those based in the western territory against the very enforcers meant to keep them safe was still part of his plan.
One way or another, he was going to take those assholes down.
…
Rolling one last outfit—yoga pants because they packed smaller, T-shirt, sports bra, undies, and socks—into a neat bundle she could just grab out of her pack, Lyndi paused as the sound of feet approached her door. Being at the end of the hall usually meant that sound was a visitor for her.
Levi maybe? She needed to talk to him before they left. The last chance she’d get before they split up.
Only every time she started toward his room, an icy hand clamped down on her windpipe and her dragon would growl at her. Because the selfish half of her didn’t want to leave him. The boys, too, but in some ways Levi even more. So she’d finished packing instead. Like a coward.
When had she become such a wimp?
The knock at her door wasn’t unexpected, and Lyndi cinched up her pack, a hiker’s duffle with a strong waist strap that she’d bought years ago when recreational hiking had become a thing for humans.
When she swung open the door, she paused. “Mike.”
The way her heart dropped at the sight of the younger man’s face, instead of Levi’s, was ridiculous.
Ri-fricking-diculous, she mentally repeated louder in her head, like that might make her heart understand.
She was turning into one of those girls who constantly checked her phone for messages and only felt half alive until he came around. Absurd and it needed to stop.
“What’s up?” There. That sounded perfectly normal.
“I’ve helped most of the others. I think half an hour at most, and they’ll be ready to go.”
“Great.” How did she not hug the kid until she smothered him, or act like they weren’t about to break up their family? She cleared her throat. “I’ll finish packing here. Send Elijah down and let the rest know to meet everyone topside in an hour.”
Ten minutes later, another knock sounded. At her call, Elijah popped his head through the doorway, mop of sandy hair covering his green eyes. “Mike said you need me?”
Lyndi nodded and abandoned her packing to pick up a slip of paper she’d printed out and put on the island counter separating her kitchen and family room.
“Here.” She handed it over.
While he took it, he didn’t open it. “What’s this?”
“Just read it.”
Brow still furrowed, he unfolded the paper and his eyes moved as he skimmed the words. Then paused and read it again more slowly. “My old colony will take me back?” He lifted his head to stare at her closely, brows puckered. “You want me to go?”
The question suddenly made her remember how young he truly was, and damned if her heart, already cracked and bleeding from today’s revelations, didn’t lose another chunk at his expression.
“Of course I don’t,” she said.
Then reined herself in and tried not to let him see how desperately she wanted to keep him with her. Elijah had always been her thinker, and this was up to him. “I want you to have options. That’s all this is.” She waved at the paper. “Your cousin contacted me a month ago asking about you. He was happy to learn about how well you’ve been doing.”
Elijah snorted. “I bet.”
Suddenly he was a man instead of closer to a thirteen-year-old boy. Life had done that to him, made him untrusting so young.