He tore his shirt off as he ran for the park at the end of the street. His jeans came next, and then without bothering with taking his boxers off, he shifted. At least, the park would be empty at that time, and he wouldn’t be scaring the local children. With strong beats of his wings, he flew high into the sky, heading straight for home.
The heat churning inside him puffed out from his nostrils in long plumes of steam as he flew. A constant growl rumbled in his chest, but he kept from roaring. The last thing he needed was to alert the Dark Wing clan of his presence. Why else would the hunters show up at their doorsteps out of the blue? They had to be working in tandem somehow.
He was about a mile out when he came down in a small but secluded clearing. He and the other men often came to that very spot for training exercises when they wanted to be out of the gym. His best run time to the clearing was four minutes, but he’d been going at a dead run. Tonight, he had to be more careful. He couldn’t make a sound. That would slow him down.
He took off at a cautious but steady pace. He doubted anyone would be so far out, but he couldn’t risk being killed by a wary hunter before he even reached the estate. Every deliberate step he took had the fury inside him roiling hotter, and hotter. The minutes ticked by in his mind like a bomb about to go off. By the time he reached the estate, he barely held his dragon in check.
He waited in the treeline, not moving a muscle. To his right three hunters hunkered down with night vision goggles. The night fell quickly in the mountains, and they’d come prepared. His dragon wanted him to eliminate the threat to his mate, to his clan, but he remained where he was, watching, listening. A growl, deep, and mean came from the yard. He could see Luke’s dragon form on the ground. His head was down, and his wings lay awkwardly at his sides.
A roar, higher pitched than that of a male ripped through the night sky. Stella shouldn’t have come out. The only way she would have is if the men had been in dire need of assistance. He looked further into the yard and saw another dragon, and another on the ground. Their chests heaved, so they were alive but the hunters had gotten them. Where were all their other men? They should have converged at the first sign of attack.
On top of the roof, men he didn’t recognize pointed their rifles into the trees. They peered down their scopes as they swept back and forth. At least five men on that side of the house alone searched for targets.
Another roar from Stella and a bright flash of flame drew his attention to the far corner of the yard. Any further back, and he wouldn’t have been able to see her at all. More men with night goggles surrounded her. The one closest to him jabbed at her with what looked like a spear, the sharp metal at the end gleaming in the moonlight. She turned her head and roared, but the energy it took to create fire was gone. Rivulets of dark blood trickled from her side. The fire in his chest expanded with the fury of his dragon. Fucking bastards. They had immobilized her and were torturing her.
A snicker came from the group to his right. Rather than keep their guard up, they were watching the fucking show, like killing his sister was something enjoyable. By the time they noticed him, it was too late. They didn’t have time to raise their bows. Fire spewed from his mouth, engulfing all three. He didn’t wait around, moving quickly back and to the thickest part of the surrounding trees. Shots ricocheted all around him as he ran. By the time the men fell, he was out of sight. How he didn’t get hit was a miracle.
He circled the yard, keeping to the edge of the forest. He’d have to shift to his dragon form sooner or later, but he was harder to detect if he stayed as he was.
Stella gave no obvious indication of knowing he was there. It was in the way her breaths lengthened and the stiffness of her neck that relaxed a touch. The humans wouldn’t notice the slight change, but he did. On the other side of her, the one closest to the trees, only one man stood, his makeshift spear dripping in blood. With Stella’s massive body blocking him, he was easy prey. Jace stepped behind him, silent in his approach. Before the man had a chance to react, Jace grabbed him, snapping his neck, then slid him down to the lawn.
“Those fucking lizards still think we’re down the mountain. By the time they realize it was a trap, it’ll be over. The women will be dead, and we’ll be long gone,” one of the bastards on the other side said, then laughed. The sound, high pitched and tight, spoke of the nervousness of the man.
“Serves them right for stealing the blind bitch. Can you believe Bert asked her out, and she told him no? Then she goes off to fuck one of those animals? She’s probably one of them scaly fuckers by now.”