Hidden Dragon (The Treasure of Paragon Book 7) by Genevieve Jack (best ereader for manga txt) 📗

dollop and popped it in his mouth. “Yes, the trader’s spice makes it,” he mumbled around his finger.

“Goddess have you, Sylas, I’m serious! Get your hands out of my bowl.” She turned the full weight of her heavily annoyed stare on him.

He took it as a challenge. “Hmm. If I can’t have the batter, what can I do to keep my mouth busy?” Reaching for her, he traced along the skin of her shoulder with the back of his nails.

She lowered her chin and stared up at him through impossibly thick lashes. “If I hadn’t known what I was getting into mating a dragon, I’d tell you to go suck an egg.” Wings fluttering, she allowed the spoon to clink against the side of the bowl. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Lucky for you, I knew exactly what I was getting into mating a dragon, and I have far better uses for that naughty mouth.”

A deep, vibrating purr rumbled in his chest when her mouth met his, her full lips tasting of crizzle batter and the remains of her smile. He hoisted her up his body, felt her legs wrap around his hips. The world melted away. All his responsibilities, the horrors he’d seen over his years leading the rebellion, all of it retreated to the back of his mind and pure joy filled his heart. Goddess, he wanted her. Wanted to bury himself in her for days. Wanted to taste every inch of her.

He pushed the bowl aside and lowered his mate to the table, reaching for the buttons of her dress.

“Sylas, stop. Wait.” Dianthe’s lashes fluttered.

Sylas froze. Her eyes rolled back in the way they did when she was seized by a vision; her stomach tensed rigidly. A tremble rattled her body. He supported her with his arms as the magic rolled through her.

“What is it? What do you see?”

Her eyes widened in terror, her entire body quaking under him.

He held her tighter. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Tell me what you’ve seen.”

“Everfield… on fire. The Obsidian Guard is coming.”

“When?” He stood up and lifted her from the table, placing her on her feet.

A tear cut along her cheek and her voice shook as she blurted, “Now.”

Screams cut through the cottage from the forest outside and Sylas inhaled deeply, then cursed. He smelled smoke. “Mountain help us.”

He ran to the door and peeked out. Fire. Chaos. Fairies screamed as they fled from dragons in black-and-red uniforms who were kicking in doors and dragging people from their homes before they set those homes on fire.

He closed the door. “They’re burning Empyrean Wood.”

“Oh goddess, Sylas. What can we do?” Dianthe began to weep in earnest.

Taking her by the shoulders, he denied his instinct to comfort her. They’d both known this was a possibility. Dianthe could fall apart. He couldn’t. He had to follow the plan and get her out of there.

He grabbed the bags he’d packed for just such an emergency and handed one to her. He strapped the other onto his back. “We go together, out the back, hand in hand. I’ll cloak you in invisibility. Don’t look back.”

Dianthe stared at the backpack in her hands. “When did you pack these?”

“You know when.”

She frowned. “We can’t just leave, Sylas! People will die. The Obsidian Guard is here. They’re showing no mercy. You have to shift. We have to fight!” She clutched the strap of the bag until her fingers turned white.

He shook his head. “I’m not strong enough to face the Guard alone, and calling on the rebellion now would undermine everything we’ve worked for. They’re not ready. We’d lose and all would be for nothing.”

When she didn’t move, he hoisted her bag onto one shoulder. If she wouldn’t carry it, he would.

More screams filtered through the walls, closer now. A knock came on the door, followed by the voice of a young fairy. “The Guard is coming. Save yourself. Run!”

Sylas grabbed her hooded cloak off the rack and wrapped it around Dianthe, dressing her as if she were a child. He thanked the Mountain she was still wearing her boots. “Out the back.” He tugged her toward the rear door.

She pulled up short of the exit and glanced woefully at the healing branches of the tree that grew at the center of their cottage. “Sylas, the zum zum! It’s one of the last of its kind.”

It was much too large to move, big enough to support the body of a full-grown male now and capable of curing fairies of most ills. Dianthe had healed many friends, neighbors, and community members in that tree, as well as the one fairy he’d begged her not to heal—Aborella.

Dianthe had claimed she’d seen a vision of Aborella fighting on the side of the rebellion, but her visions were open to interpretation. That one was exceptionally nebulous. But when they’d come across the fairy, gravely injured and buried alive outside the palace walls in Paragon, he’d allowed Dianthe to talk him into bringing her here. His mate had spent days painstakingly caring for and healing the fairy. But once she was healed, Aborella went straight back to the Obsidian Palace. He was almost certain she was behind this raid. Why else would the Guard be in Everfield now?

He gave Dianthe a mournful look. “We have to leave it. There’s nothing we can do.”

“Sylas—”

“Shhhh.” He made them both invisible before throwing open the back door and ushering her out onto the path.

All fairy homes were built from living materials, and their cottage was no exception. The walls consisted of tightly woven branches, creating a large, leafy dome completely integrated into the forest. Outside, the scene of utter chaos that met them turned his stomach. The entire north side of the Empyrean Wood was on fire. Everyone was evacuating. Those not fast enough to flee found their faces plunged into the dirt by soldiers wearing the black-and-red uniforms of Paragon. Blood flowed. Everything was on fire.

He tried to cover Dianthe’s eyes to