Donna Grant - Fire Rising

An arm wrapped around her from behind and grabbed her neck. Some unknown, unseen force was preventing her from speaking to warn Tristan or even Phelan and Charon that a Dark had her.

“Well, well, well,” said a deep, husky Irish voice in her ear. The male laughed softly. “Ah, but this was too easy. Tell me, dear, do you know which one is the real Tristan?”

Sammi shook her head. It didn’t matter what they did to her. She wasn’t going to tell them anything.

“No matter,” he whispered, his voice lowering even more. “Soon, Tristan will be coming to me. You see, I have what he wants. You.”

Terror, unyielding and inexorable, engulfed her. She had made a critical mistake, one that could be the end of her. Her gaze looked past the groups fighting to what was left of the bedroom.

The white linens were barely visible from the collapse of the roof. In her mind, however, the bed was clean and on it were her and Tristan locked in a kiss with their limbs tangled as they learned each other’s body.

It was the last thing she saw before the chilling, horrifying darkness.

The Dark Tristan was fighting disappeared before he could land the killing blow. It was just like the cowardly fuckers to pull that kind of stunt.

He whirled around, ready to take on the next Dark One, but there was no one other than the Warriors and Kings. Until his gaze landed on Balladyn and Rhi still locked in battle.

This time Rhi had the upper hand. She stood with one gold heel of her shoe on his throat and her sword at his groin. “It’s over, Balladyn. Call off your dogs.”

His slow, evil smile sent a chill of foreboding down Tristan’s spine.

“Look around, pet,” Balladyn prodded her.

Rhi paused before she looked up, her gaze clashing with Tristan’s before she slowly surveyed the room. “Where did you send them?”

“Where else? We got what we came for.”

Tristan’s heart squeezed as if a fist had plunged into his chest and wrapped around it. He couldn’t catch his breath. He turned his head to the corner he had spotted Sammi in to find it empty.

Phelan and Charon turned as well, their puzzled expressions saying what words could not.

“That’s right,” Balladyn said.

Tristan jerked his head to the Dark to find his red eyes staring at him.

Balladyn’s smile grew. “We have her, Dragon King. If you want her back, you know where to find us.”

He teleported out just as Rhi was bringing down her sword. The blade cut through the rug into the wood floor while she cursed.

Tristan knew what they would do to Sammi. He knew all too well what awaited her in the depths of the Dark Ones’ home. His plan had been to protect her.

Instead, she was now in the hands of his enemy.

Tristan threw back his head and roared all his fury, his ineffectiveness. His vehemence.

Hopelessness slid into his gut like a snake, coiling its cold skin around him until he was drowning in it.

It had been pure luck, Rhi, and Kellan’s quick thinking that had gotten Kellan and Denae out of the Dark Fae’s prison last time. At least Tristan had Rhi. He hated to ask her to go back to such a place, but he had no choice. He had to get Sammi back.

Even if it meant he changed places with her.

“It was all a damned trap,” Ian growled.

Rhys said, “We were too damn confident in our success.”

“How did they know our plan?” Phelan asked.

Banan and Laith shifted back into human form, but Tristan couldn’t take his eyes off the last place he had seen Sammi.

“Do they have someone who can stay veiled as long as Rhi who might have spied on us?” Banan asked.

Laith made a sound at the back of his throat. “Why would they risk so much by coming onto Dreagan?”

Tristan had no answers for them. His mind was in a whirl of rage and ire over how he could have messed up so badly that Sammi was taken.

Somehow he had to pull himself together, to become a cold, calculating machine so he could go into the depths of the netherworld to find her.

Just how the hell he was going to do that was something he hadn’t figured out.

Rhi didn’t think she had ever seen someone as desolate as Tristan. The shock and surprise at finding Sammi gone showed plainly on his face.

“Tristan,” Ian said as he walked to his brother’s side. “We’ll find Sammi.”

Rhi felt eyes on her and turned her head to Phelan. She, Phelan, and Tristan had been in the tunnels outside of Taraeth’s fortress recently, and Rhi would be content to spend eternity without seeing them again.

That wasn’t going to happen though. She would be going back into the awful place because she knew Tristan would ask it of her. As much as she wanted to refuse, she couldn’t. She was a romantic, a sucker for love.

Sammi and Tristan might not have realized it yet, but they were made for each other. Just as she and her dragon lover had been.

They hadn’t survived, but Rhi would do all she could to help Tristan and Sammi.

The war had begun, and there would be casualties—there always were. Rhi was afraid that this time, the humans were going to be dragged into it.

And that would be the downfall of the Kings.

That didn’t mean the Light Fae would get to share in the spoils of the realm with the Dark. There would be another civil war. She was so tired of fighting, so tired of being the one to put what she wanted on hold.

It was in the Light’s interest to join the Kings. Rhi knew she could talk her queen into it. Constantine was another matter, but then she knew how to go around that.

She would speak to the other Dragon Kings and let them convince Con. If she asked, he would say no just to irritate her, and there wasn’t time for that. He was a first-rate ass, but this war went beyond her hatred of him.

Right now she was more focused on Balladyn. Rhi had thought fighting him would be difficult with their history. It should be hard to battle someone she had considered a brother and mentor.

Balladyn, however, had made it easy for her. His jabs about losing her lover hadn’t made her lose her cool as he had hoped—as it would have done before. This time, it made her more focused.

She ran her fingers through her hair to smooth it out of her face and got a strand caught in her nail. “Damn,” she mumbled when she saw her nail was split, her new polish chipped in multiple places.

A nice long visit to her favorite salon was in order once Sammi was back in the safe confines of Dreagan Manor with Tristan by her side.

That was going to be the problematic part. The Dark would offer to trade Sammi for Tristan. And Tristan, the noble fool, would do it.

Rhi began to formulate several plans that might keep both Sammi and Tristan out of the Dark’s clutches, but every one was chancy and required fate to be kind.

When fate was anything but.

The air moved behind her, and before Rhi could turn, a blade was pressed beneath her chin. She stilled instantly.

“You should’ve remained on guard. Did nothing I taught you stick in that bullheaded mind of yours, pet?” Balladyn asked in her ear.

To Rhi’s surprise, the only one looking at her was Con. His black gaze was blank, uncaring that a Dark had her in his grip. Rhi knew then that this was the end for her.

Even if she called out, even if she tried to get away, Balladyn would kill her. There was nothing anyone could do to help. She was well and truly doomed.

What irked the most was that this wasn’t how she was supposed to go out. In the midst of battle for sure, not being taken by surprise because she’d let her guard down like some stupid youngster.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” Balladyn whispered.