Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
The heavy thunderstorm worked against him, trying to put out the bursts of flame. Finally, after cautious experimentation, Oldrik succeeded.
Ardon! We’re on our way. Drake’s voice whispered into their minds.
What was going on? Something was dampening their communication.
I don’t like this, Oldrik. Before they get here, let’s poke around. Ardon shifted into human form so he could go inside the seemingly abandoned building.
Wait! I can smell it in the doorway. It’s the same chemical. Don’t open the door. Oldrik’s voice boomed through their connection. It’s a trap. Maybe we should retreat to wait for the others.
Skye? Can you hear us? Ardon sent their mate a message after retreating from the rigged entrance. When she didn’t answer, alarm bells rang in his mind. She was normally chatty with her mental thoughts. Ardon realized they hadn’t heard from her for a couple of hours. She might have taken a nap, but Skye never slept this long.
Ardon shifted back into the bronze dragon. He would prefer to meet any threat with his flame, scales, and talons to protect himself. Meeting Oldrik’s blue gaze, he knew the other dragon was as worried as he was—not about the chemicals. They’d deal with those easily.
Without hesitating a second more, Ardon launched himself into the air. Oldrik joined him as he headed back to the mansion. He needed to make sure Skye was safe.
Drake, we have devices here at the entrance. I wanted to warn you before I leave. I’m concerned about our mate. I’m going to check on Skye, Ardon informed him.
Go. We’ll take care of things here. Be on guard. Whoever is organizing this is setting traps. I’m sending Keres and Rogan to your lands.
My mansion, Oldrik clarified to make sure they knew where to go.
They’re on their way.
Tense minutes passed as the two dragons pushed their wings to the limit as they sped back. As they topped the edge of the mountains surrounding Wyvern, Oldrik blasted another message to Skye. When Ardon winced at the strength of his booming tone through their connection, Oldrik was confident Skye must’ve received it.
No response returned to them.
She couldn’t have missed that, Ardon stated.
The dragons hoped something was preventing her from answering or receiving the message. The only other alternative was she’d been drugged or knocked unconscious. They did not wish to consider that possibility.
Rogan and Keres already circled over the mansion when they arrived. Oldrik scanned the faces of his staff as they shielded their eyes to stare up at the display of four dragons wheeling overhead. The pelting rain had soaked through their clothing. Someone he expected to see was missing.
Where’s Tierney? Ardon asked.
I can’t spot him either. Oldrik tried not to jump to the conclusion that his absence was a bad omen. Had he been taken also, or was he the abductor? He couldn’t believe his trusted manager would be capable of that but would suspend his disbelief to locate his Little.
Ardon, I will land and ask the staff to comb through the grounds for Skye while we search from above.
After sending a message to Rogan and Keres to explain the plan, Oldrik landed on the front lawn. Scanning the area, he waved off anyone who approached where he’d last seen Skye. The thunderstorm made it difficult to pick up any clues, but he could see some grooves in the grass. Were those the marks of heels drug across the lawn? He could definitely spot deep boot prints.
He followed the trail to a set of wagon wheels and horse tracks sunken into the mud. That must have been there recently. At least since the storm had begun. The ruts were deep. That wagon had held a heavy load.
Circling around, he detected signs of a tussle on the far side. The vegetation was kicked up, and the large boot prints appeared here as well as shoe patterns without the treads. Oldrik inhaled deeply, trying to pick up a scent.
He shook his head and paced over to the front porch of the house, where his staff had retreated to get out of his way and avoid the deluge. Their faces were concerned and drawn. “What happened?”
“Everyone was in the back of the house, sir. We were creating a new garden for Tierney. He left to go check on a noise from the front of the house and never returned. We didn’t stop, figuring he’d moved on to work on another task,” Garrett, one of his gardeners, said.
“Who saw Tierney after that?” Oldrik demanded.
The crowd looked at each other and shook their heads. No one spoke.
“Was the wagon in the front yard one of ours?” Oldrik asked.
“I didn’t see a wagon, sir, but it couldn’t have been. Your wagons are all in the back fields to haul in the crops. They’ll go straight to the barn for processing,” Garrett answered.