Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Slowly, Ravi peeled open one eye and then shut it again as pain lanced through his brain. The room he was in was dark, but it didn’t stop the throbbing that was hammering against his skull.
What?
Where was he?
How?
Charles Bridge. Thomas Jaeggi. A trap.
Ravi’s eyes popped open as the memories poured into his brain like a raging river rushing through a narrow gulley. There was no escaping it. He and Sahan had followed Thomas Jaeggi to the Charles Bridge, where they’d walked straight into a trap.
Had Sahan escaped? Reached Burkhard Castle safely?
Ravi clenched his teeth against the rising feeling of panic. Sahan was incredibly fast. He’d escaped the Jaeggi and he was telling Ravi’s family what had happened. Alric knew.
Oh god. Sora knew.
His mate knew the Jaeggi had attacked him.
That was what had pulled him back toward consciousness. Not the screaming. He could feel his mate’s pain in his chest like a gaping wound. Sora was in pain and terrified that Ravi was dead.
Closing his eyes again, Ravi concentrated on the ball of angry emotion, trying so damn hard to follow it back to its source. He focused on his love for Sora, trying to send back feelings of reassurance and love. Trying like hell to tell Sora that he was alive, at least for now.
Some of the pain dissipated, and Ravi could breathe a little easier. He could only assume that Sora had felt him, knew he was still alive. Now they just had to figure out where the hell he was.
Ravi wasn’t about to wait around for others to find him. He needed to get to them. Ravi looked down to find he was completely naked in the small concrete room.
And, holy shit, he needed some fucking clothes!
Looking up, he discovered his wrists were bound in iron manacles chained to the ceiling. The chain was just long enough that he could balance on the balls of feet, but he couldn’t stand flatfooted. What the hell! He’d better not be in some creepy Jaeggi sex dungeon because he was not down for that kind of nonsense. He had a mate now, dammit!
Trying to move his aching head as little as possible, Ravi carefully spun in place to get a better view of his surroundings. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to see. Bare concrete walls painted white. The same white paint was on the floor, which slanted slightly to one side where there was a small drain in the corner. Yes, that had to make it so much easier to wash blood off the walls and floor—it could all flow straight into the drain.
Dragging his gaze away from the ominous drain, he looked over at the large metal door, which had a small opening near the top. There wasn’t much to see through the opening except for more concrete walls. Those didn’t look painted, though.
His dragon stirred, but rather than expressing outrage and anger, it whined and sounded pained. Yes! He’d shift. Ravi called on his dragon, and it pushed once before both he and his dragon shouted in pain. It was like he’d jammed his big toe in an electrical socket.
No shifting. Shifting was bad, painful, evil. The damn Jaeggi must have placed some kind of spell on the manacles to keep him from shifting.
Ravi took a deep breath, intending to soothe the poor creature, when he realized that the air smelled stale. As if there was no airflow.
As if there was no wind. No breeze.
Because he was fucking underground.
Oh no. No. No. Nonononono.
A wind dragon couldn’t be stuck underground, away from the touch of the wind. It was the source of his strength and power. It was a part of his very essence.
Panic slammed into him hard, and he struggled to breathe. He needed to get out of here, now.
Here Ravi was, strung up like a pig for slaughter, his wrists in magical cuffs that bit into his skin, keeping his arms well above his head. The cuffs were looped around a pole stretching the length of the room and kept him on his feet. There was no room for his knees to bend without his shoulders taking the brunt of his weight, and not much room to maneuver. He was in danger of losing circulation to his arms if this kept up much longer. Ravi flexed every minute or so, sometimes lifting up with his arms, trying to keep them from falling asleep.
And, clearly, things were going to get much worse. Shuffling footsteps echoed down the concrete hall, and Thomas’s ugly mug appeared in the little window just before a metal key was jammed in the lock.
The door opened and Ravi was facing two buffoons with their lecherous smiles. While naked.
Like, really naked. Not even shoes.
And the cement floor was cold, dammit.
Ravi wasn’t normally body shy, but he’d prefer pants in this situation. Was it too much to ask for pants?