Aiding the Dragon (Stonefire Dragons 7)

The screen went blank.

Orla spoke up. “The world will soon be ruled by females, and about time, too.”

Brenna frowned. “I think we should all rule together, on equal footing.”

“Equal in some ways, but a few more females in power would be nice. And preferably before I die.”

“Your list of things to happen before you die is growing fairly long, Orla.” A knock on the door prevented the older female from replying. Brenna shouted, “Come in.”

Lyall appeared in the doorway, concern plain in his eyes. “We found Killian.”

Brenna closed the distance between them. “What’s happened?”

The older male sighed. “One of the volunteers found him unconscious in the woods surrounding Glenlough.”

Orla stood. “Where is he now?”

Lyall answered, “He’s in one of the conference rooms. Awake, but… different.”

Brenna’s stomach twisted. “Different how?”

“It’s quicker for you to see than for me to try to explain. Come, I’ll take you to him.”

Her dragon huffed. I don’t like this.

Me, either. But Killian is alive, which is the most important factor.

As they walked, Orla’s cane thumping along with them, Brenna asked,

“Does Teagan know you found her brother?”

Lyall shook his head. “The doctor thinks it’s best to let her rest a bit longer, until her slight fever breaks. However, if Orla thinks we need to defy the doctor’s orders, I will. But given everything Teagan’s gone through today, I thought I would go to you two first.”

Orla replied, “Good. I’m the best judge of whether stressing my injured granddaughter is worth it or not, especially considering that the DDA will be visiting tomorrow and she needs her strength for that.”

“You would think that the DDA would wait until she’s healthy again,” Brenna muttered.

Orla shook her head. “You may be a good Protector, Brenna, but there is much for you to learn about dealing with the Irish government, or any government for that matter. To them we’re pests and, at best, second-class citizens.”

Lyall stopped in front of a conference room door. Ignoring Orla’s opinion, he said, “Just prepare yourself and keep in mind he’s not the Killian we know.”

Once she nodded, Lyall entered the room. Brenna took a deep breath and followed the dragonman inside.

Killian sat in a chair at the far side of the conference room, his wrists cuffed and attached to long chains secured on the floor.

The restraints weren’t a good sign.

Looking closer, she noticed Killian’s dark hair was disheveled and his torso was bare, but otherwise he looked fairly normal. If he had injuries, they were somewhere she couldn’t see.

And yet, as Killian silently looked at her with furrowed brows and confusion in his gaze, her gut sensed something was off. Brenna took a step toward him and said, “Killian? Are you okay?”

He studied her for a second before demanding, “Who are you? Are you the one who’s going to release me? I’ve been waiting for the bloody leader to meet with me.”

Her heart stopped a second. It couldn’t be true. Killian had to be joking.

Maybe if she humored him, he’d tell her the truth. She touched her chest and said, “I’m Brenna.”

“Who?” Killian demanded.