He felt something against his leg, and without looking, he instinctively knocked it away.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a body go flying. Only after he heard the soft grunt that sounded like Denae did he look.
The darkness was no match for the eyes of a Dragon King, no matter what form he was in. Kellan’s ire grew—this time at himself—when he recognized Denae.
She touched her jaw where he had knocked her away and looked at him. He wanted to tell her it would be all right, but he couldn’t. Not when the Dark Ones were watching.
Kellan hadn’t meant to hit her, but in the end, it may be to her benefit. If they didn’t believe she had any meaning to him, they wouldn’t use her against him.
That didn’t mean she was safe from the vile ways of the Dark. The only way to free them both was for Kellan to shift into dragon form and fly them both to Dreagan.
It only took a thought for him to shift, but nothing happened. Kellan turned and heard the chain. He stilled, every fiber of his being refusing to believe what he knew was true.
Kellan tested his left arm again, but there was no denying the cut of the manacle into his wrist or the weight and sound of the chains. They were using their magic to prevent him from shifting.
No Dark Fae, no matter how powerful their magic, could kill a Dragon King. So what did they want him for? To use as a sexual toy? The female Dark Ones would soon learn he wouldn’t fall for their unquenchable sexual appetites.
He wouldn’t have before, but he certainly couldn’t now after a night in Denae’s arms. Kellan fought not to look at her. He knew he had hurt her when he hit her, and he hated himself for it.
The sound of water dripping from the old bricks and stones was incessant and irritating. He didn’t need to ask where they were, he knew the Dark had brought them to Ireland.
It was just across the Irish Sea from Scotland, but it could be in another realm for all the good that did them. Every King knew the Fae had numerous doorways to their realm in Ireland, but none of the Kings had ever found one.
That wasn’t true. There had been one King, one who had dared the wrath of both the Fae and his own brethren when he followed Rhi.
But there wasn’t time to think on that now. Kellan needed to concentrate on keeping the Dark Ones focused on him and away from Denae. Because once they turned to her, there wasn’t anything he could do as long as he was chained.
He noticed the small fissure of light coming from somewhere and bouncing against a wall weeping with water. There was a way out. The Fae always had a way out. Kellan just needed to figure out where that was, break free of the damn magical chains, and get Denae away before they got ahold of her.
All too clearly he remembered the Fae Wars when the Kings and Fae had waged war on Earth to see who would claim it. Hundreds of thousands of humans had been left as shells—alive but with no soul—by the time the Dark had been forced to leave.
The thought of Denae being one of those shells, the light gone from her whisky-colored eyes, her wit, her smile … her passion, sent him into a mindless rage.
With thousands of millennia of practice, Kellan reined in his fury and turned to where the Dark Fae stood watching. He glared at the three males.
All his intentions went out the door as soon as one of them focused on Denae. Kellan might be chained, but he still had magic. They didn’t know that, of course. He could use it now or wait until he had an advantage. The smart move would be to wait, but then again, he didn’t like the way one big male was staring at Denae.
“Kellan?”
It was Denae’s voice—and the slight thread of fear he heard in it—that stopped him from doing something rash. He turned his head slightly to her, but never took his gaze off the males.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Ireland.”
She sighed forlornly. “Ireland? How did we get here?”
“They used magic.”
“Of course they did.”
He bit back a smile at her sarcasm. Denae would keep her wits about her and remain calm. She wasn’t the fainting sort. And was he ever thankful for that.
“Why did they put us in here together?”
He asked himself that same question, and he didn’t like the answer. Neither would she when she learned she would be used by them to get him to answer whatever questions the Dark had, which is why he decided to keep it to himself for the time being. “They could have many reasons.”
“I see.” She shifted slightly. “Why are you chained?”
“They’ve used their magic to prevent me from shifting.”
There was a long pause, and then she said, “What do I do?”
“Doona trust anything you see or hear from now on.” Kellan knew the Dark Ones would find her greatest fear and use it against her in any way they could.
“So I shouldn’t trust that I’m talking to you right now?”