The Warrior King (Inferno Rising) Owen, Abigail (books to read for 13 year olds TXT) 📖

“Stop!” Meira commanded and stepped through the mirror herself. She didn’t shake or hesitate or even think of herself at all, because Samael’s life depended on her.

“Fuck me,” one of the men muttered under his breath.

“We should have known by the hellhound that you were close by,” Amun spat.

She ignored the venom in his voice, because she could feel them. These men were confused, and deep down they were scared, looking for someone to blame. That made them lash out, because apparently dragon shifters could be emotionally stunted. She couldn’t read minds, too, but Meira was fairly certain these men didn’t truly want to hurt their captain. They were doing their job to protect the king.

Which would mean Samael’s suspicions were baseless. She had two options. If one didn’t work, she’d try the other and have Maul get them out of here.

“We are not your enemies,” she said softly, calmly. The way she’d speak to a cornered or abused animal.

She placed her hand on Maul’s side, his fur prickling against her palm. With a confused whine, he sat, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Which would be adorable if he wasn’t so freaking scary.

The emotions swirling around them only eased a fraction.

“If we surrender, will you promise that no harm will come to us?” she asked.

The men in front of her glanced at one another, confusion almost a color around them, anger still ebbing and flowing.

Sam was going to kill her for this when he woke up. Especially if she was wrong to put her trust in these people. But she had no choice. These men were their clan. Like with Rune and his men, like with Gorgon allying with Brand and Ladon, like she and her sisters were putting their lives in the hands of the creatures they’d run from, trust needed to start somewhere.

Amun eased his stance, and the others followed suit. “We have to put you in the dungeon.”

Maul snorted, a sound that came across like a sarcastic laugh, and Amun eyed him warily.

“Is Gorgon truly alive?” she asked.

If not, she’d have Maul teleport the three of them away from here now.

Amun’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t even need her abilities to read the suspicion. “Yes. He showed up in the hangar, severely beaten but alive. The timing of your arrival can’t be a coincidence.”

“And yet it is.” Crappy timing had become the theme of her life these days. “We’ll come with you peacefully. Samael told you…we are not the enemy here.”

“That remains to be seen.” Amun nodded at his men, two of whom, with visible reluctance, skirted her and Maul to haul Sam up by the arms. His head drooped forward as he dangled between them, dead weight.

“Does he need medical attention?” she asked, trying hard not to show how desperately she wanted to run to him and try phoenix tears to heal him right then and there.

“He’ll be fine, but we’ll call the healer to the cell we put him in.” Amun stepped past her to move to a door leading out into the human-size hallways beyond. “Follow me.”

Chapter Seventeen

Consciousness returned not softly. More like with a jolt and a big fucking headache. Through the pain, eyes still closed, Samael processed everything his senses were telling him. Cool yet damp air that wasn’t moving more than it had to. Thin mattress with no sheets or pillows. The constant sound of dripping.

The dungeons in Ararat sat under a massive underground lake. Damn.

Hand to his head, Samael sat up in the bed he’d been put on and took inventory. They’d broken three of his ribs in the fight, one he was pretty sure had punctured his lung. His nose and possibly his eye socket had also been fractured. He still couldn’t see out of his left eye, but he could breathe okay. A good sign. They must’ve brought the healer in.

“Took you long enough, Captain.”

No mistaking Amun’s voice coming out of the dark beyond the bars.

That’s right. The last thing Samael remembered was Maul jumping into the room and his own last-ditch attempt to shift midair, which meant throwing himself out the window. Only the asshole standing in front of him had snagged him by the foot, and the force of the stop slammed his head against the wall. Everything went black after that.

Except…

In the vague recesses of his memory of those last moments, he’d swear he’d heard Meira gasp. She had to have been close by, now that his brain was engaging, or the hellhound wouldn’t have been involved.

“Meira.” He jumped up, ignoring the ringing pain in his head, and grasped the dragon-steel bars to peer into the darkness. “Where the hell is she?”

A flicker of dark flame and Amun stepped forward, his eyes alight. “Safe enough. She and the hellhound are in a different area of the dungeons. They came willingly. We didn’t have to beat the shit out of them like we did you.”

Relief punched the breath from his lungs. “Thank the gods.”

Amun said nothing, but no burning questions was a positive sign.

Samael turned serious. “Given the way Gorgon disappeared, someone got to him. I don’t know who I can trust. Clearly, I’m not the only one worried about that.”

Amun sighed. “Protecting the king is my first priority. You taught us that.”

“You will never have to protect him from me,” Samael ground through clenched teeth. Except for claiming his mate while the king was supposedly dead.

“I hope that is true. But with what’s been going on these days since the mating ceremony, we operate now on a policy of ask questions first and trust later.”

Another quote Samael had been known to toss at his men. A reluctant smile raised one corner of his mouth. “I’m glad to hear you were listening to at least some of what I said.”

Amun smiled back, though the expression remained guarded.

“I assume the fact that I’m not dead is a good thing. Please tell me Gorgon is actually here, and that his