THREE

Kane

THE CLOSER TO THE hatch I crawled, the more the pungent stench of metallic blood mixed with the sweetness of peppermint cookies. My heart sank. An instinct I had read and dreamed about for years was in jeopardy. Every shred of my heart screamed for me to dive into the hole and find what I had been searching for all my life.

Then I felt a hand close around my ankle. Glancing back with a snarl, I saw Mason’s hand curl around my ankle, a glower in his eyes. With a free foot, I kicked at his hand. A crunch echoed, and I broke free from him. I continued to crawl until the hatch was before me.

Dante crouched in front of the hatch, looking down into the dark pit. A rusty ladder with peeling black paint lowered down. Dante reached over and placed a hand on top of my head.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he questioned.

“Mate,” was all I could say.

Dante’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t speak, but cautiously watched me as I strained to grab hold of the ladder with a trembling hand. For a moment, I thought he was going to grab me and yank me back.

“Stop. You won’t be able to climb,” he said.

I didn’t care. My mate was down there. I had to get to them before they died. A growl rippled through me as I strained to pull my legs to my chest and slip them into the hole. Using the strength of my core as my muscles still twitched, I hooked an arm through the rungs of the ladder; the chains clinking loudly in my ears, and slowly descended into the darkness.

The blood scent grew overbearing until the peppermint cookies faded into the background. About a foot from the ground, I let go of the ladder and dropped, stumbling until I splashed into the dank, murky water. The water stank of rotten piss and shit when I pulled myself from it and clambered onto the pathway. I spat out a mouthful of water as Dante stepped off the ladder. He arched an eyebrow, but didn’t say a word.

The strange man was next to climb down. With trembling hands, he pushed past Dante and ran down the pathway, stopping short of a corner, where a pair of legs were splayed and a pool of blood was forming.

My heart thudded against my rib cage, threatening to break through as the scent grew more potent. I clasped a hand over my mouth.

Dante took off in a sprint toward the legs as the stranger crouched down next to the legs.

“Your Highness,” the stranger called. “C’mon! Wake up, Astaroth!”

Freezing in place, Dante’s hand flew to his mouth.

The stranger turned to look at him, a blazing fury in his eyes. “Fucking help him! He’s dying!”

Mate. Dying.

Those words rang in my head like a bullhorn, causing screeching feedback. I flinched and squeezed my eyes shut. My heart sputtered as a jolt of dread washed over me. I hadn’t seen my mate’s face; the bond between us hadn’t been established yet, giving me time to back away. But if I lost him… what kind of mate would I be if I didn’t try to be there for him?

Shaking myself out of the dark thoughts, I stumbled toward the group. The stranger snapped his fingers, and a small orb of yellow light flickered to life, hovering about two feet off the ground. Now I could see my mate perfectly.

His body sat hunched against the wall, curly ginger bangs falling into his ashen white face, eyes closed as ragged breaths left him with blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. His attire was dirty, soaked with blood and grime from the sludge within the tunnels.

Dante held his hands out, hovering them over my mate’s body, and whispered hushed words that were similar to what he used to heal me. Though the words were sharper, directed with more intent. Sweat beaded along his brow, dripping along the purple marks on his face.

I inched closer, never taking my eyes off my mate’s delicate face caked in slick moisture. It twitched as a gasp left his lips and his eyes shot open. Olive-green irises darted around in a panic, searching for anything remotely safe. My lips parted as he sucked in a sharp breath and raised his eyes in my direction.

The world stilled, as if there were only us to worry about. I staggered, hand slapping against the slimy wall. He was beautiful. That was the only word to describe him. A dragonthorn of noble lineage — and he was mine.

“Mate,” he said, voice gravely and broken.

Dante and the stranger froze, exchanging glances.

I merely stared, eyes fixated on the beautiful shade of olive with flecks of jade.

“Astaroth, take it easy,” Dante finally stammered, shaking his head.

“Stay back. He’s mine,” my mate said, struggling to lean forward. A trickle of blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. Those green eyes darkened. “I claim him as my maspet under the order of the Angelus House.”

Dante froze, his eyes widened comically.

The stranger's face fell, lips tugging into a deep frown and his eyes looking to the ground. “Your Highness, you can’t be—”

“I. Claim. Him, Anton,”my mate rasped. His eyes flicked to me as a smile tugged at his bloody lips.

My heart hammered like a wild animal trapped in a cage. Dropping to my knees, I clutched at the chains around my wrists. My mate reached out, a desperate look on his face. I growled and inched backward.

“Don’t worry,” my mate slurred. “You’re safe now.”

My heart thudded again in my chest as he reached out, bloody fingers touching my cheek, a sincere smile etched onto his face. With a small chuckle, his eyes closed, and he collapsed against me.

He…he claimed me. I wasn’t… I couldn’t be…

Looking at the stranger, Anton, who clenched his fists, I noticed a familiar reluctance I had seen in Dad’s eyes so many times.

“He’s the crown prince, Dante. You may have bought the wolf, but Astaroth claimed him. His word is law,” Anton said. “Stand down, men. His Highness has given us an order, whether we like it or not,” the bodyguard said. He looked at Dante. “Heal your brother while I come up with an excuse that His Majesty will tolerate for this insubordination.”

With a pause, Anton stood up, eyes looking at me with a coldness I didn’t quite understand. “Astaroth…what have you gotten yourself into by buying this dog?” he mumbled.