“Take her!” he ordered Bram.

Bram looked around. All he saw were trees and ocean. The next port was several leagues away. And with him carrying Ghleanna—they’d never stand a chance. “Where?”

“Anywhere! Just go!”

“But—”

“She’s dying, royal!”

Bram looked down at the She-dragon in his arms and realized that Addolgar spoke truly. Blood pumped from her chest in big gouts.

“Take her! Help her!” Addolgar killed two dragons in front of him by running them through with one thrust of his spear. “We’ll do what we can to hold them off.” He glanced back at Bram one more time. “Help my sister. Please.”

Bram nodded and took another quick look around, his gaze finally settling on the ocean. It was the last place he wanted to go. The place he swore he’d never return to.

Yet he had no choice but to risk it. So Bram grabbed firm hold of Ghleanna and took to the skies, moving over the ocean. He heard the shouts of those trying to capture him. They were coming after him but Bram kept going until he was far enough out and high enough.

“Ghleanna? Can you hear me?”

“Aye.” But she sounded weak.

“Take in a deep breath. The deepest breath you can. Then hold it.”

He felt her take in several breaths, but it was not easy with her losing so much blood. When he knew she’d done what she could and that she now held her breath, Bram tightened his hold on her—and flipped them both over.

A few of the soldiers were near now. Only a few feet away, but they never expected Bram to suddenly flip over—nor to suddenly race toward the ocean beneath them.

“Stop him!” someone yelled from the shore. “Stop him before he reaches the water. Stop him!”

Unwilling to stop until he was made to, Bram kept going, glad for his lighter weight, knowing it allowed him to move faster than the bigger dragons.

He neared the blue water, was right there when he heard Addolgar bellow, “What the hells is he doing?”

It was the last thing Bram heard before he hit the water, dragging Ghleanna down with him. Down and down, deep into the ocean.

A few dragons followed him in. Foolish dragons. Or they didn’t know what the older, more experienced ones did.

For as he kept going, the others behind him, those who ruled these waters, shot past him, their weapons out, their shark-like fangs bared. They ripped past Bram, the webs between their talons and the bright colored fin that cut down their back giving them unholy speed, while their gills allowed them to breathe.

Bram kept going until more dragons surrounded him. Older soldier Fins who’d patrolled these waters for quite some time. They looked at the wounded She-dragon in Bram’s arms and then at Bram.

It was Bram they recognized.

Understanding that their visitors were quickly running out of oxygen, the Sea Dragons separated the pair. A Fin wrapped his forearms around Bram while another did the same to Ghleanna. Then they used their underwater speed to whisk the visitors deeper in the ocean—and the caves beneath. To the Empress of the Sea Dragon Empire.

And the gods knew . . . that conniving bitch was ten times worse than Rhiannon could even dream of being.

Chapter 7

Bram used his forearms to brace his body, his talons pressing into the packed earth of the cave floor, and he spewed seawater from his burning lungs. He sensed much activity around him but he paid it little mind. He was too busy trying to get his bearings.

Confused, he lifted his head to try to see where he was but his eyes stung and his hair was in his face.

“Breathe, my Lord,” someone gently told him, patting his back. “You’re safe now.”

He recognized that voice, but from where? “Kleitos?”

“Good memory, old friend.”

“Where . . . ?” Feeling his lungs had cleared, Bram sat back and pushed the wet hair from his eyes. That’s when he saw Ghleanna. She lay on her back, with several dragons surrounding her. “No.”

He tried to get up, to go to her, but Kleitos quickly pulled him back. “Let them do their work, Bram. You can’t help her now.”

Shaking his head, Bram tried desperately to remember what had happened. “We were set upon,” he said out loud. “Betrayed.” He frowned, pressing his talons to his forehead. “They were trying to stop me.”

“Who, old friend? Who was trying to stop you?”

The thought was just out of reach, so Bram did what he always did—he reached for his travel bag. It was a Magickal item designed to survive all flames, including the ones from his shifting. But the bag was no longer on him. His gaze, suddenly clear, shot across the cavern and he saw several dragons going through it.

He stood but Kleitos grabbed his forearm, held him back.

That’s when everything became terribly, ridiculously clear.

“Get your claws off me, Kleitos.”

“Now, now, old friend—”

“We are not old friends, you deceitful bastard.”

Kleitos’s smile was wide, revealing those shark-like fangs. It had taken years, nearly a decade for Bram to stop having nightmares about those bloody fangs. “I know we’re not friends, but it worked for a time, didn’t it?”

Bram tried again to pull his forearm away.

“Now, now, my Lord. Don’t make such a fuss. I’m sure we can be reasonable about all this, wouldn’t you agree?”

Annoyed more than he’d been in an age, Bram slammed his head into Kleitos’s the way he’d seen Ghleanna do to Cai.