To Tame a Dragon - Tiffany Roberts Page 0,69

her here. “The pool below?”

“Yes. Her waters may—” Telani’s words were cut off by a terrified yelp when Falthyris rose on his hind legs and curled his fingers around her middle. Before she could mount even a modicum of resistance, he lifted her off her feet and turned toward the box canyon.

Shouts of alarm and outrage sounded behind him, but he simply charged forward, pumping his wings to gain speed.

The pair of huntresses who had been guarding the steps readied their spears ahead of him, wearing expressions that were perfect blends of fear and determination. The realization of what they were doing struck Falthyris harder than their weapons ever could have. These humans, though they must have known the effort would prove futile, meant to defend—to rescue—Telani and Elliya.

The hateful words he’d spoken a few days ago rose up from the recesses of his memory, flooding him with another wave of guilt and regret. He’d been wrong about humans in so many ways.

He leapt over those would-be heroines, flapping his wings to ensure he gained enough height to clear the females without knocking them over. Their shocked gasps were barely audible as he darted past. He curved his wings slightly to catch the air and slow his short, reckless descent into the box canyon.

He landed hard on his hind legs but managed to keep his torso upright, sparing the humans in his hands from the impact.

Falthyris deposited Telani on the ground beside the crimson pool and extended his other arm, holding Elliya on his palm once again. A chorus of voices sounded from atop the cliff behind him, accompanied by the sounds of feet crossing dirt and stone.

“Now what, human?” he demanded, fixing his gaze on Telani.

The older female hurried to Elliya and began unraveling the blanket bundled around Elliya. “We must place her in the water. Only Cetolea’s embrace may save her now.”

“I brought her here for healing,” Falthyris snarled, “not for superstition and a bath.”

Once the blanket was open, Telani quickly removed Elliya’s robe. “Cetolea’s power is not superstition, dragon. She has healed many of our ill over the generations, and she may yet heal my daughter.”

Seeing his mate’s bare body roused both Falthyris’s Heat-fueled lust and his fierce possessiveness.

Humans were scrambling down those carved steps. Falthyris curled his fingers around his mate, snapped his head toward the newcomers, and drew his lips back in a growl. He did not care whether they were male or female—Elliya was meant only for his eyes.

“This is her chance, dragon,” Telani said, calling his attention back to her. There was a pleading note in her voice, a desperate glimmer in her eyes. She reached out, hesitated, and finally placed her hand on his finger. “This is the only hope to save Elliya. Place her in the pool.”

He clenched his jaw, fighting back the reflexive shudder threatening to course through his body in response to that touch. Telani was not his mate, and it was not her skin, was not her warmth, that he longed to feel—especially not beneath the red comet.

Focus on Elliya. She is all that matters.

“This had better work, human,” Falthyris said as he carefully lowered Elliya into the pool.

The strange water made his scales tingle. Elliya floated on the surface, prevented from drifting far by the loose cage of his talons. Her expression was almost serene, though her skin maintained that ashen pallor, which was now granted a faint, bloody tint by the water’s glow.

This had better work. Please.

“Save that which has become my heart,” he whispered to the pool, “or else no corner of the desert will be spared my wrath.”

17

Elliya opened her eyes. For a time, all she could do was stare in confusion at the stone ceiling above her. It was familiar, but it was…wrong. There was far too much sunlight touching it, and unlike the ceiling in Falthyris’s cavernous lair, this one hung low enough that she could touch it with her fingertips if she were to stand and jump.

Had Falthyris moved them into the tunnel? No, that wasn’t right either. She’d spent enough time in that tunnel to know its look by now.

She swallowed and grimaced. Her mouth felt like she’d eaten a handful of sand, and her throat was sore and dry. Her body ached, her skin was sticky and damp with sweat, and she was entirely too hot with a blanket draped over her and Falthyris wrapped around her. As though that were not enough discomfort, her stomach felt hollow and