Part 1 (1/2)

Scorched by Darkness.

Dragons of Eternity.

Alexandra Ivy.

CHAPTER ONE.

Torque was in the zone.

That perfect place where he was intimately connected to his inner dragon and capable of seeing the world with a sharp, acutely brilliant focus.

Moving with liquid grace, he crossed the vast training room with a complex pattern of leaps, kicks, and lightning-fast punches. Fire danced over his skin, leaving scorch marks on the granite floor. He might be a half-breed, but his dragon was particularly strong, allowing him to create enough heat to melt through stone if he wasn't careful.

He was also capable of creating small portals, masking his presence, and killing most creatures with his bare hands. And he had a unique gift of being able to conjure tiny sparks that he could send anywhere in the world. Not a particularly valuable talent, but he'd more than once used them to distract his enemies long enough to gain the upper hand.

Turning to finish his daily routine, Torque found his concentration wavering as a flicker of movement appeared near the door.

”Not now,” he growled, leaping high enough to grab the ring hanging from the ceiling.

With a fierce surge of power he was swinging forward, releasing the ring to arc through the air, landing lightly on his feet before he was spinning to kick at the punching bag attached to a steel bar.

”You're wanted,” a familiar male voice drawled.

Char.

Like Torque, the male was a half-breed dragon who was in the service of Baine, but that's where the similarities ended.

Torque was a trained solider with short dark hair and brilliant blue eyes. Char was a personal companion to Baine, which meant he had the ability to partially s.h.i.+ft into his dragon-form. He had silver hair and gray eyes that turned from smoke to charcoal depending on his mood.

The older male also preferred elegant suits, while Torque wore the plain black uniform of a guard, or casual jeans and sweaters when he wasn't on duty.

Even their personalities were different. Char was sly, sardonic and charming. The sort of male who took pleasure in laughing at the world. Torque, on the other hand, was far more serious. He devoted himself to duty, and keeping his fighting skills at peak condition.

”Wanted by whom?” Torque demanded, whirling to give the bag another kick. ”You?”

Char gave a short laugh. ”You should be so lucky.”

”Yeah, right.” Another kick. ”According to the harem, there's no luck needed to capture your desire. You spread your interest far and wide.”

”True.” Char deliberately paused. ”But I draw the line at an irritable soldier who thinks a romantic night is kicking bags and lifting weights. Give me a warm woman spread across satin sheets and a cold gla.s.s of champagne.”

Torque hissed in frustration, slowly turning to face the male who was leaning nonchalantly against the doorjamb. Clearly he wasn't going to get any peace until he could get rid of the unwelcomed intruder.

”Are you going to tell me why you interrupted my training?” he snapped.

Char watched as Torque grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat from his body, tendrils of smoke still clinging to his damp skin.

”Baine had a visit from his father's emissary,” he said.

Torque scowled. Baine had walked away from his father, Synge, centuries ago. Dragon family dynamics were explosive to say the least. Many were downright homicidal. But since Baine had found his mate, the two had started a cautious relations.h.i.+p.

Which meant it wasn't entirely unheard of for Synge to send a messenger.

”And?”

”And now he's asking for you to come to the throne room.”

”A Council meeting?”

”No. Just you.” The gray eyes darkened with something that might have been regret. ”I think it's that time.”

A chill raced down Torque's spine. He knew the end was drawing near. His betrothed had been born a hundred years ago on this precise date. Which meant she was considered a mature female. Ready for mating.

But he'd done his best to block out the thought of his looming fate.

”Now?” he breathed.

Char grimaced. ”Sorry, dude.”

Torque turned away. He felt trapped. Had someone put a noose around his neck when he wasn't looking and started to squeeze?

”Tell the master I'll join him after I bathe,” he muttered, making a straight line for the side door that led to the locker rooms.

Stripping off his gi, he tossed it on the floor and stepped into a pool overlaid with black and gold tiles. This room was like much of the lair.

Opulent. Lush. Br.i.m.m.i.n.g with priceless artifacts.

Dragons were jealous h.o.a.rders of beautiful objects, and their homes were a reflection of their status. The more treasure, the greater their power.

There was no doubt that Baine was at the top of the food chain.

He was also a remarkably fair master to his small army of servants. Not that he was weak. h.e.l.l, he could be as arrogant and temperamental as the next dragon. But he wasn't unnecessarily cruel.

Something that'd earned Torque's unwavering loyalty over the past century.

Which made this day all the more difficult to endure.

Walking into the center of the bath, Torque sank into the hot water and scrubbed himself clean before leaving the pool. Standing on the tiles, he released a small burst of heat, drying his skin before a robed servant managed to scurry forward to hand him the neatly pressed uniform.

Torque silently pulled on the clothing, his dark thoughts clouding his mind.

He wasn't entirely sure why he was feeling as if he'd been hit by a freight train. Actually, he'd been hit by a freight train not long after they'd returned to this world and it hadn't been nearly so stunning.

Sore. Yes. And aggravated with Char for daring him to stand on the tracks. But not shocked to the point it was difficult to think.

Now he muttered a low curse.