Defender Dragon (Protection, Inc 2)

I can’t bear it, he thought. I would rather die than endure days of this.

But then he thought of Journey. She loved him. It would break her heart if she lost him. For Journey, he had to hold on.

For Journey, he thought to himself.

He clung to her name like a spar as he was tossed about in a sea of pain.

For Journey...

For Journey...

For Journey...

The pain stopped.

At first Lucas couldn’t comprehend what had happened. Then he tasted the sharp tang of heartsease. They must have poured some into his mouth. He tried to lick his lips, and found that he could. The gag had been removed.

It was another minute or so before he recovered enough to open his eyes. He was dangling from the manacles, his clothes and hair drenched in sweat. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably.

The masked man leaned forward, vial in hand. Lucas flinched back, but all the man did was flick a single burning drop of dragonsbane on to Lucas’s hand.

Of course. They still needed to prevent him from shifting. Lucas wished he’d thought of it as soon as he’d come to, then realized resignedly that he wouldn’t have had the strength to shift anyway. Even without the dragonsbane, he doubted he was strong enough now.

“That was twenty minutes,” said the masked man.

Lucas stared at him, disbelieving. Surely it had been hours!

He’s lying, Lucas told himself. He’s trying to scare you.

It was working. Whether it had been hours or minutes, Lucas knew he couldn’t endure that agony again.

“Where is Journey Jacobson?” the man demanded.

Now that the dragonsbane no longer burned within him, Lucas could register the cramping pain in his shoulders and wrists. He attempted to stand up, but his legs wouldn’t support him.

“Talk,” said his captor.

Lucas tried, but his throat was too raw and dry. He got one syllable out, then broke into a fit of painful coughing.

His captor reached into a bag and brought out a flask. Lucas flinched again as the man raised it to his lips, but the liquid inside was only water. He was allowed a few swallows before it was withdrawn.

“Talk,” the masked man repeated.

“Castle Balaur.” Lucas had to force the words out. They felt as if they choked him.

The man stood still, staring at him. He— or rather, his hidden master— was no doubt trying to tell if Lucas was lying.

Whoever captured me knows me well, Lucas thought. Even if it’s only by reputation and a few brief encounters. They know about mates, and how much I must love Journey. They know of my honor and they know of my pride. And they know I would not give her up unless I was broken beyond repair. I have to prove that they broke me.

An idea came to him immediately, but his pride made him hesitate. Then he thought of Journey, of her open heart and her courage, and reminded himself that he would do anything to protect her.

He focused on his pain. On his fear for himself. On his fear for Journey. On his regret at leaving his friends at Protection, Inc. without so much as a proper goodbye. On his stupidity at getting himself captured. On every humiliation he’d suffered at Grand Duke Vaclav’s hands when he’d been a boy. And instead of keeping his feelings under control, he invited them to sweep him away like a dry leaf in a hurricane.

Deliberately, he thought, If Journey dies, it will be all my fault.

Lucas began to cry. Hot tears ran down his face as sobs racked his body.

Even as he let himself drown in terror and despair, a cool, distant part of him thought, It’s been twelve years since the last time I cried. I’d forgotten how it makes your nose run.