The Warrior King (Inferno Rising #3) - Abigail Owen Page 0,52
the weight of longing. But she didn’t step away.
Kasia ignored her glowering mate, holding up a hand. “We appreciate your help.”
Rune glanced between the king and queen, then gave a brusque nod.
Kasia’s gaze moved to Meira. “I had a vision. That’s how I found you. Are you all right?”
“We were attacked at our old home in Kansas. Brock Hagan.”
“I saw. He’s a bigger threat than we realized. Something to do with Ararat next.”
“A vision?” Rune stepped forward. “Skylar never mentioned having visions.”
Kasia paused then smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Rune… So, you’re the one, huh? You and your men have even more of my thanks and trust for keeping Skylar safe. I’m sure Skylar would say the same. She’s spoken of you often.”
Rune lifted a single eyebrow. “Hiding her from my kind didn’t last long.”
Kasia laughed. “It never does when Skylar is involved,” Meira murmured.
That earned them a minuscule smile from the black dragon shifter.
“Did you see anything else?” Meira asked. No way had Kasia sought her out simply to check on her health. The risk would be too great.
“I didn’t see more than that, but your message got through to the Black Clan. They’ve sent their own message in return through me. Gorgon’s beta is dead. Do not approach Ararat until they have determined a new king.”
At her back, Samael stiffened, the creak of leather telling her he’d fisted his hands at his sides.
“Fuck that,” Rune snarled. “The next king after the beta should be the Viceroy of War.”
Of course, that’s how dragons would set it up. Meira inwardly rolled her eyes. Bloodthirsty lot. “I’m surprised there’s not a fight to the death involved,” she murmured.
Rune swung around to pin her with a serious stare. “Often there is, despite the system in place.”
Samael had yet to speak, a hole of silence behind her, the chink in his walls letting through only a pulsing sort of tension.
“How did Adish die?” Rune directed the question to Kasia and Brand.
“We were not informed,” Brand said.
Why wasn’t Samael speaking up? The pressure emanating from him was filling the room, suffocating her. Meira turned to him slowly to find a man who reminded her of Carrick and the other gargoyles, made of stone. If she touched him, part of him might chip away, so she didn’t dare reach out. “Sam.” She said his name quietly.
He seemed to have to drag his gaze down to hers, staring without seeing for a second before his midnight eyes focused.
Meira didn’t have to say anything. Perhaps he could see the questions in her eyes, and the message that they were in this together.
Sam reached out, almost convulsively, like he wanted to wrap one of her curls around his finger but dropped his hand before he touched her. “Someone is systematically taking out the leadership of the Black Clan.”
“You can’t know that,” Rune said behind her.
Sam didn’t take his gaze from her. “Adish is far from old, already mated, and healthy as a god. Disease did not take him. He is well respected, well-liked, and an impressive fighter, despite remaining out of recent skirmishes, in order to lead at Ararat. That’s why he was named beta.”
And left behind at the mountain while Gorgon was trying to secure himself a mate and allies. A leader the clan respected. Only traitors would kill such a man.
“Hrag is Viceroy of War,” Rune said. “He must be behind this.”
Samael shook his head, dropping his gaze to watch Meira closely, and she couldn’t look away. “Hrag stepped down,” he said. “He has not found his mate, and the aging process has taken hold of his mind.”
“Who was named Viceroy of War in his place?” Rune asked, impatience giving the words a crack.
Sam lifted a hand and wrapped that curl around his finger, almost as though tethering her to him for what he was about to say. The skin on his neck shifted to scales of obsidian briefly before rippling back to human, the way she’d once seen an octopus change colors in an instant to blend with its environment as it flowed across the ocean floor.
Then he lifted his head to gaze over her shoulder at the other black dragon shifter in the room. “I was.”
…
“Bullshit,” Rune snapped.
Heavy silence fell over the room, like the doldrums on a ship he’d once sailed on in the Mediterranean, when nothing moved. Not a whisper of wind, and the water didn’t even dare lap at the sides of the ship. As still as the world ever got.