“What . . . what do you need?” Delilah finally caught her breath and her words spilled out, sounding wan and hollow. She hung her head. “I’m sorry—I don’t know what to say, what to ask. Menolly was here all night, pacing, but she had to go home this morning.”
“How long was I out?” I jerked my head up.
“Close to twenty-four hours.” She looked up as the front door opened and Shamas peeked inside. His eyes lit up when he saw me and he opened his mouth, then paused. After a moment, he let out a long sigh and held my gaze, offering me strength without pity, and I gratefully nodded to him.
“Delilah, your phone’s ringing. I answered—it’s Sharah.”
She glanced at me. “I guess I’d better . . .”
“Go take it. When you come back, I have something to tell you.” In my scramble to get away, to find a hiding place where Hyto couldn’t get me, I’d forgotten about Chase, but now the memory of meeting him on the astral flooded back. At least we might be able to rescue him, if nothing else.
As she headed outside, I turned to Trillian. “Is everyone okay? What happened while I was gone?”
“Absolute hell, my love. We were all in absolute hell. Smoky . . . you’ve never seen him angry. Pray you never do. I may be your alpha, but I think he’s all our alpha. Dragons are not to be crossed lightly, and when you threaten their families . . .” He took my hands. “Seriously, I have never seen anyone so anxious to kill. Camille, I’m glad you love him, because now that you’re back, he’ll never, ever let you go.”
I ducked my head. “I hope that he can stop Hyto . . . Trillian—he’s insane. He hated me before; now I can only imagine the torture he has planned for me.” And then I found myself blurting out, “I want to be strong. I don’t want to be afraid of him! But I am—I am so terribly afraid of him. And he can find me . . . he can track me.”
Trillian motioned to Vanzir. “I think she needs a drink. Brandy, please. For the both of us.”
As Delilah came back in, she was smiling, though her lips were still pursed. “Smoky’s back and on his way. He’ll be here any minute. Camille, finish your breakfast. He’s bringing Sharah with him to attend to your wounds.”
Sharah . . . Chase!
“My mind is a little muddled. I was going to tell you a few minutes ago but spaced it again. That first night, I saw Chase. I went out of body onto the astral, after Hyto . . . was done with me.” Biting my lip, I stopped, fighting back the memories. “Anyway, I was on the astral and I saw Chase out there—in body! We may be able to find him if we head out there looking. He can’t get off the astral on his own, but he was alive and well.”
“You saw Chase?” Delilah broke into a smile. “That is good news. And we need every bit we can get.”
Just then, the door burst open and Smoky stood there, in all his glory, with Sharah standing a few steps behind him, looking shaken. Trillian gently backed away from me as my dragon strode toward me, pushing everything that impeded his progress out of the way. And when he reached me, I expected him to grab me up, steeling myself for the pain, but he fell to his knees in front of me and pressed my hands to his forehead.
His voice muted, he whispered, “Can you ever forgive me, my love? Can you ever, ever forgive me?”
Chapter 15
“Smoky, oh my Smoky!” And like that, I slid down to the floor, pressing against him, covering his face with kisses as his hair gently wound around me. For a moment, I flinched, memories of Hyto’s cruel strands surging forth. But then I forced myself to relax as Smoky gently embraced me, pulling me to him. He covered my forehead with kisses, pressed his lips against the welts running across my cheeks, whispered my name against my mouth. Tears streamed down his face out of those glacial eyes, as he gathered me by the shoulders and held me back, drinking me in.
“Camille, my love, my only love. What did my father do to you? I wasn’t there to protect you—how can you ever forgive me? How can I even ask you to forgive me?” And then he slowly stopped, his gaze fixating on the collar. “No . . . no . . . he did not . . .”
Jumping up, he stumbled back. “I will destroy him. I will carve him to shreds. I will wingstrap him until he screams for mercy, and then I’ll tighten the screws! Hyto will die, painfully, in agony.” He stood there, panting, and a musky, possessive odor rose off him like an aura made of ice. He was trembling, and I could sense the energy he was using to repress his rage.
The pain of his retreat was worse than anything Hyto had inflicted on me. I slowly forced my way to my feet and stood, staring at him. “Love, would you turn away from me because of what your father did to me?”
Smoky stopped, frowned, and then understanding crossed his face. “Oh my sweet. Oh, my love. I am not turning away from you—no, never think that.” And he opened his arms. “I’m just so angry.”
Painfully, I went to him, bit my lip as he enfolded me in his embrace, pressing against the bruises. I didn’t have a clue how dragon society felt about abused women, but I was about to find out.
“You have to know . . . I have to tell you . . . and Trillian . . . what he did to me. And I have to get this collar off.” I tugged on it. “I hate it—I hate the feel of it. I hate knowing he’s still got hold of me.”
Smoky examined it. “Damn him. He’s used a cunning spell. I can’t break this, but . . . maybe . . . I know someone who might be able to.” And then he glanced down as my robe slipped off my shoulders. “Camille, what did he do to you?”
I stepped back and shrugged the sleeves up. “I’ll tell you, but I need you to promise me you’ll remain calm. I can’t handle any more stress right now. I really can’t. I feel like I’m walking a tightrope as it is. I can handle what happened to me, but only with your support.”
Trillian motioned to Smoky, patting the seat next to him. “Dude, sit down.”
Trillian would get it—during the civil war in my home city-state, he’d had been captured and raped by soldiers from the other side. He’d managed to both escape and eviscerate them. But his attackers had been Fae—mine, a dragon.
As Smoky headed for the sofa, the door to the bedroom opened and Hanna peeked out. She took one look at him and screamed, dropping to the ground and covering her head.
I rushed forward, cursing every painful step of the way. “It’s okay—it’s okay—it’s not Hyto.” Falling to my knees at her side, I gathered her in my arms. “Smoky . . . it’s Smoky—Hyto’s son. My husband. He won’t hurt you.”As we rocked together on the ground, Smoky let out an impassioned groan, his expression racked in guilt.
“My father . . . that my father has caused such terror.”
“Hyto captured Hanna and her son. He killed her husband and locked her boy up in a box for five years.” I glanced up at him. “Over that time, Hyto killed at least two dozen women. Hanna had to clean up afterward . . . he forced her to bathe them for him and then take them to their deaths on the threat of torturing her son.”
Smoky motioned for me to stand. “Tell us now. Tell me what he did to you. Show me what my father did to you.” His gaze was deadly serious.
Delilah moved to help Hanna over to a chair as I slowly stood. Swallowing my shame, I dropped the robe in the middle of the floor, then slid the nightgown off my shoulders.
As it fell to the floor, Smoky and Trillian stared at me. I knew they were seeing the marks on my stomach, between my thighs—brilliant purples and black, deeply bruised, the skin raw and abraded. Slowly, I turned around, moving my hair to expose the long weals embedded deeply across my skin and the boot prints that had slammed into my side when he kicked me.
While my back was turned, while I was staring at the wall, I said, “Hyto raped me . . . as painfully as he could, wherever he could find an opening. He meant for it to hurt. He beat me, used me for furniture, forced me to blow him . . . had me on the floor like a worm, groveling, calling him Master. And he collared me like a dog.”
I rattled his sins off like a grocery list. Keeping myself aloof from what had happened helped me cope with the memories that flashed through my mind like a revolving door. As I turned back to face them, I added, “Hyto taught me what it means to fear. I want him dead.”
Meeting their gazes, I forced myself to stand strong, even as a flood of emotions rushed through me. Delilah stared at me, tears streaking down her face, but I realized I couldn’t cry anymore. I’d cried myself out. Now I just felt a core of white-hot rage beginning to build.
“I want him dead. And I want it to hurt. I want him to hurt as much as he hurt me. As he hurt Hanna. As he hurt his other victims.”
Trillian slipped over to my left side, Smoky to my right. They did not touch me, but knelt at my side, each taking one of my hands.
“Oh, love, we will see to it,” Trillian whispered. “I vow to you, I will not rest until your attacker is dead.”
Smoky simply nodded. “Trillian’s correct,” he said abruptly. “I give you my word, my love. My father will pay for his sins with his life, and it will not be an easy out for him.”
“We’d better get to planning then, because we also have to rescue Chase. I will not allow him wander alone on the astral while I can help. I refuse to let Hyto stop me from doing what I need to do. And if what you say is true, Hyto will be tracking me by this collar. I want it off. If it takes ripping his still-beating heart out in my hands to do so, then that’s what I will do.”
And my husbands—bless them—leaned in and kissed the palms of my hands gently. And I knew they would do everything in their power to see our enemy destroyed.
Sharah took me into the bedroom, along with Hanna, to examine us and tend to our wounds. As she examined my back, she said, “Do you know the one interesting thing about this?”
“I don’t think any of it is interesting.” I wasn’t feeling particularly chatty.
“You’ll want to know this. Your tattoos? They were right in line with several of the blows, but neither tattoo was touched. It’s obvious the chain landed along them, but where your tattoos are, there is no mark—no wound.”
I raised my head. “Really?”
“So help me, yes.” She traced the lines crisscrossing my back. “These will heal. You will have scars, but I think I can minimize most of them. You’ll need to rest, though—”
“I will rest when Hyto is dead and rotting. We have a dragon to kill, and Chase to find.” I then told her everything I could remember about seeing Chase on the astral. Even though she tried to remain professional, I could see the relief breaking in her eyes.
“I miss him so much. But Camille—you have to rest. I can dress these, but if you use them too much, they may tear open and scar—”
“Then color me marked. Menolly lives with her scars, and so can I. And if I am scarred, let it be a reminder that no man will ever touch me this way again. Be he dragon, demon, or devil. I have to get out there again. I have to see Hyto die. I can’t hide at home or I’ll never be able to go out again. Do you understand?”
I turned to her, grabbing her wrist and leaning forward. “Hyto taught me to fear in a way I’ve never, ever experienced. If I don’t conquer this, I’ll have nothing left. I don’t have Menolly’s strength, or Delilah’s athletic ability. All I have are a handful of spells, some of which work when they have a whim to. I can’t let this beat me. If I stay at home, cower in my room, Hyto will have won. I have to exorcise him from my mind. I have to get him out of my head.”
Hanna stood up. “Let her do as she will. Camille is a brave young woman, and I thought sure Hyto would kill her the first night. But she withstood his treatment and even managed to drive him into a rage like no other I’ve seen. If she can come down off that mountain with the wounds she has, then she can withstand another battle.”
She turned to me. “You would make the Northmen proud if you were one of us. You are a warrior woman in spirit, if not in body. And spirit is often far stronger than muscle and bone.”
Sharah let out a long sigh. “You’ll do as you wish, of course. You three always do. All right, but at least let me give you a painkiller. I have developed one that your system can withstand.”
“Will it take me off my game?” I stared into her eyes, challenging her. Flanked by my family, by Trillian and Smoky, I found my courage returning, and I wanted to make them proud. I wanted to make myself proud. I wanted to prove that no pervert could cow me. The memory of groveling at Hyto’s feet stung far more than the blows on my back or anything else he’d done to me. “I have to be alert.”
Sharah nodded, and something told me she knew what I was thinking and understood. “You won’t lose any speed with this one. But it will help you move around without as much pain, and so will the ointments I have for your wounds.”
“Then I will gratefully accept it.” I smiled then, and she leaned in and hugged me as a sister might. “Do you think Hyto might have given me a disease when he . . . when he . . .”
Sharah bit her lip. “You’re pretty bruised up down there. I can give you a potion to dispel any disease he might have. I’ve never had the opportunity to treat a dragon for wounds, let alone an STD. So I don’t really know.”
“I hate asking Smoky about it—just another reminder of what Hyto did to me. To us. But I’d better take the potion, just in case.” I kicked the ground, wincing as the blow ricocheted through my leg muscles. “Damned devil.”