To Hell and Back by L.B. Gilbert

Chapter Sixteen

Valeria woke up to shouting somewhere overhead. Rolling out of bed fully clothed, she pulled on a pair of hiking boots. Getting on her hands and knees, she was going for her backpack, which had been carefully repacked with heavier clothes, out from under the bed.

For the past few weeks, Rhys had spent a great deal of time with her, checking that she was resting up and updating her on the research his people were doing on the antique mirror. He offered her books to read and movies to watch, and when he discovered she liked to draw and paint, he showered her with art supplies, including the brand of oil paints she’d never been able to afford.

His attention felt strange at first. Except for her mother, no one had tried to take care of her before. Since he checked in with her ten times a day when everything was perfectly well, she knew the shouting followed by five minutes of silence meant trouble.

The loud knock made her jump. Figuring it was Rhys—Aggie never knocked—Valeria went to the door. But it wasn’t Rhys.

Shrinking back, she tensed as the tall, muscled man snapped a quick bow. “Hello. My name is Naveen. I serve as second.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said, suppressing a grin. Naveen had been here multiple times. Rhys had even introduced her to him, as well as to several other warriors who’d been by to make reports or get orders. Like any good boss, Rhys made it a point to have a lot of face-to-face time with his men.

But in Naveen’s defense, he probably thought she couldn’t tell them apart. They were all built on a scale similar to Rhys—huge, muscular, and hyper-masculine with the same bold but symmetrical features that would have turned female heads anywhere in the world.

The dragon’s expression was inscrutable. “Rhys wanted me to tell you that he has been called away.”

Oh. He must have been in a rush if he hadn’t stopped by to tell her so in person. Over the past week, her host had been flawlessly polite and attentive to her, enough that she was starting to lose her wariness around him.

No one had ever won her trust so quickly, but Rhys was making serious strides.

“Is it Sanaa?” she asked, putting two and two together. “Is she in labor?”

“Yes.” Naveen nodded. “Thomas and the healer are with her, but he’s asked Rhys to come.”

Valeria frowned, not sure if she understood him. “Thomas has? Or the healer?”

Naveen’s lips compressed. “Both.”

That was when she knew something had gone wrong. That bear shifter would not have wanted Rhys there otherwise. “Is there anything I can do?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his mouth moving as if the words were foreign to him.

Wincing, Valeria reached out, about to pat him on the shoulder before thinking better of it. It was never a good idea to touch, not with that other ability lurking inside her. Granted, she didn’t have to be as cautious around Naveen as she had to be around Rhys, but it was better to play it safe.

She couldn’t afford any complications right now.

“Most of the clan is at Sanaa’s house.” Naveen hesitated. “Rhys wanted you to know that so you wouldn’t be concerned by the ruckus Jerik and I made coming to get him. But perhaps you should come, so he doesn’t have to concern himself with your welfare. Unless you’d rather go back to sleep. It’s late.”

His tone held no judgment. She could have gone back to bed, but Valeria didn’t consider it. This wasn’t her community, but intentionally staying on the outside wasn’t an option. “Would you mind if I tagged along?”

The line of his shoulders dropped as if this was an answer he’d been hoping for but not expecting. “I will drive you down.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, running for the coat at the end of the bed. “I don’t want to hold you up if you’d rather fly there.”

He shook his head. “The roads are treacherous in the dark, and it’s been raining. There are no street lamps, and the moonlight is weak. It’s better that I drive. Aggie doesn’t leave the house. Unless it’s on fire, a brownie doesn’t willingly leave their chosen home.”

“I understand.” Fastening her coat, Valeria closed the bedroom door, leaving her backpack next to the bed.

* * *

Valeria would never forgetthe wild ride down the mountain. For someone who appeared so solid and dependable at first glance, Naveen drove like a demon.

He drove one of the clan jeeps with a speed that would have been barely acceptable in daylight, on a fine day. But in the dead of night, in sleeting rain, she was praying for them as the vehicle hurtled down the hill.

To make matters worse, Naveen did not turn on the headlights, insisting that the artificial illumination would actually worsen his night vision.

Gritting her teeth, Valeria just held on to the seat, trying not to show her fear, aware he could smell it on some level. That was the annoying thing about shifters. But at least Naveen was too preoccupied with driving to notice. That or he didn’t care.

By the time they arrived at Sanaa’s house, she was ready to get out and kiss the ground, but Naveen’s urgency moved her to follow him inside the crowded house.

Regret was immediate.

A crowd of leather-clad men turned to them. It was different from seeing one or two dragon shifters in person with Rhys. But over two dozen? The visceral impact of it was almost like a physical blow. Not to mention the way they looked at her—their collective stares stopped her dead in her tracks.

I should not have come here, she thought, resisting the urge to flatten herself against the door.

None of these strangers were as large or as intimidating as Rhys. It made sense that, as their leader, he would be the biggest. Nevertheless, each of these men was bigger, more muscular, and more formidable than any of the mercenary shifters who had been paid to hunt her.

“Come,” Naveen said, gesturing for her to follow him deeper into the house.

Forcing herself away from the door, she followed, unable to keep from swallowing aloud as she was forced to turn her back on those hulking specimens.

Naveen picked his way through the crowd, stopping to talk to another young dragon, this one with hair dyed a bright purple, one who didn’t bother to disguise the fact he was giving her the hairy eyeball.

Aware she was the cynosure of every eye, Valeria made a beeline for a wooden chair against the wall, set a little apart from the couches and padded leather seats.

Making herself as small as possible, she waited for them to stop looking at her, but, apparently, she was the distraction the evening required.

“Hello.” She glanced up to see Jerik. Rhys had introduced him as the youngest dragon in the clan, only a few years older than her. He was one of the ‘informational team,’ the group of dragons most comfortable with human technology. He and the others were in charge of their investments and spy apparatus.

Jerik pushed a can of soda into her hand.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

Smiling broadly, he leaned over and smelled her before moving away. He was just checking on your emotional state, she told herself after piecing it together. Rhys was less obvious about checking her scent, but she knew he did it too. Still, it was weird. Nonplussed, she opened the can, sipping to have something to do.

Valeria almost collapsed in relief when Rhys exited the hallway.

He stopped short, his head jerking in her direction. “You’re here.”

Despite having dinner with him every night seeing him so suddenly messed with her equilibrium.

The man could unnerve her just by walking into the same room. She told herself that was fine. He was an apex predator. Any other reaction would have been foolish.

It’s fight-or-flight kicking in, she’d told herself on more than one occasion. But that didn’t explain why she would blush in addition to the racing of her heart. Tonight, however, she paled when she saw the expression on his face. That a hardened man could look this way—well, there was no question. Something had gone wrong in the delivery room.

Worried for the generous and sunny woman she had only met once, Valeria leaned forward to whisper. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come—this is private clan business.”

Sanaa had cared for her when she was vulnerable but her impulse to come here had been wrong. This group was too thorny and insular for a stranger to insert herself and remain unobtrusive.

Apparently, Rhys disagreed with her unspoken desire to stay of out the way.

Drifting toward her he slipped his hand beneath the curtain of her hair, resting his palm on the back of her neck, fingers curling around her. The possessive gesture made her jump, but it had the opposite effect on him. His features relaxed as if he found touching her skin soothing.

The fact that it did the exact opposite for her appeared to go unnoticed.

“No, it’s all right,” Rhys said, looking down at her with that inexplicable warmth she saw in his eyes more often than not. “Sanaa will appreciate that you came. Thank you.”

Well, damn. She really couldn’t move now. He’s strong enough to snap your neck, she reminded herself, the warning in her mother’s voice. Use the ability, Ravenna urged. But Valeria didn’t shift away despite her worries over the skin-to-skin contact.

It’s okay, she reassured herself. She wasn’t an ignorant teenager anymore. Valeria had spent years crafting safeguards and building in controls to that unwanted power. When she was rested and in full control of her faculties, it happened only when she wanted. Release had to be intentional.

Rhys raised his head to address the room. “The first child has arrived. It’s male. He is a dragon, not a bear, and is healthy.”

The men murmured. She could tell the news was welcome, but they didn’t celebrate. Their leader’s tone was too somber.

He didn’t keep them in suspense. “There is a problem with the second babe. It seems the shell has broken within the womb. The dragon’s crest has embedded itself in the muscle of the wall. The babe is stuck, and Sanaa is bleeding.”

Santo cielo, they lay eggs. That bit of dragon lore was true. And, apparently, they were busted out of the eggs as baby dragons. Was a humanoid baby too vulnerable? Or had they evolved to give birth to the dragon form because their home environment, the world they had come from, was too harsh?

The consternation to his news was immediate. The rumble of many male voices gathered in volume, sloshing like a rogue wave from one end of the room to the other.

Tensing under Rhys’ holds, Valeria glanced up at him. He kept his eyes on his men, but his index finger began to stroke the side of her neck, soothing her absently. But he didn’t let go.

“Does Veda require aid?” someone asked. Aside from Naveen and Rhys, she couldn’t tell the men apart well enough to pick out who had asked.

Rhys shook his head. He looked down at Valeria “As clan leader, I can share some of our energy with Veda, our healer, the way native shifter packs do,” he explained. “But Veda is in a bind—he can slow the bleeding by closing the wounds, but that means the tissue heals over the infant’s crest, keeping it trapped.”

He put his free hand on the back of his head to show her where the crest would be.

“And every time he dislodges it, the bleeding resumes,” Naveen filled in the blanks.

“Yes,” Rhys confirmed. “Veda succeeded in removing it once, but the little one is confused and scared. Thomas has attempted to calm him by singing to him, but the little one was too agitated to listen. My efforts had the same result. The babe just raised the crest again, re-embedding itself. Veda will try again after giving Sanaa a chance to rest.”

“What about a C-section?” another man asked. He was blond and younger than the others, his tan face making him look like a body-building surfer. “The humans do it all the time.”

“Thomas has already broached the possibility with Veda. It has to be our last option.” Again, Rhys turned to Valeria. He put his hand on his abdomen. “In females, these muscles are critical to our flight because it’s where the base of our wing muscles attach. Severing them once will compromise Sanaa’s future ability to fly. But we will do it if we have to. The longer we delay, the higher the risk of losing both. Without the shell, our little ones will try to start breathing within a few hours, once the nutrient-rich sack disintegrates and the lungs unfurl.”

Oh, God.Horrified, Valeria put her hands over her mouth. The eggshell meant the baby wouldn’t be connected to Sanaa via an umbilical cord. It was going to start trying to breathe soon—and when it did, it would suffocate.

Rhys should have moved away to comfort the others, but he stayed at her side, letting his people come to him. But only Jerik and another woman—an older one she hadn’t noticed—did so, speaking in hushed tones. The rest of the crowd proved too stoic. Some moved quietly, prowling to the kitchen and back. A few sipped from flasks, albeit discreetly.

Time began to go haywire, alternatively moving in fits and starts or crawling at a pace a sloth could have set their watch to. The men moved about the rooms, gathering in small clumps that dispersed and reformed according to some underlying pattern she couldn’t understand.

At one point, she blinked, realizing the older woman was sitting next to her.

With only lightly lined dark skin, the woman was elegant with waist-length hair that was coal-black without a trace of grey. Valeria’s skin prickled as the woman studied her.

After a moment, she seemed to relax. “I don’t think you’re her,” the stranger whispered.

Valeria’s eyes darted from the woman to the crowd, searching for Rhys. The little hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end. She didn’t know how, but Valeria was positive he wouldn’t want her to have this conversation.

“Her who?” she asked, her voice dropping to the same low volume,

The woman’s austere features warmed. She patted her hand. “Relax. It’s a good thing.”

Rising, she disappeared into the crowd.

Baffled and a little angry, Valeria stared at the floor, trying to make sense of the exchange.

At least now you know for sure. Rhys was hiding something.

The sharp pain in her chest took her by surprise.

Well, that is stupid. She had known something wasn’t right. The mirror wasn’t enough reason for her to be here.

And the way he looks at you—the way they all look at you…

A scream pierced the air. Thick silence descended, smothering the rumble of conversation.

Thomas appeared at the threshold of the room. His features were stark, his eyes glowing a preternatural shifter gold, the bear riding him hard. All of the animal’s protective instincts were telling him to shift. But his mate didn’t need the animal. Sanaa needed the man.

It must have been tearing him apart.

One glimpse of his face told her that Thomas didn’t care about any of that. He looked at Rhys, and the clan leader disappeared into the hall as another scream punctuated the air.

Everyone stood, their eyes on the hall, a frozen tableau of an entire community at the brink. Valeria’s pulse began to race. She stared down at her hands, wishing there was something she could do to help.

The skin over her forearms tingled as if someone were running an electromagnetic wand over their surface. This was followed by a popping sound, and then her arms were weighed down, filled with something slippery and warm.

Slime dripped from scales as the baby dragon blinked up at her, its little claws digging into her arms and thighs.

Valeria gaped, ready to scream, when a heavy hand clamped over her mouth.