Heir Of Violence (#1 Betrayed Destinies) - ONC2024

Chapter 13 - Return To Me

Zaen shot up from the couch and clutched his chest. Agony speared him and stole his breath. Gasping, it took him a precious few seconds to verify his heart wasn't, in fact, pierced on the end of someone's sword, he hadn't been shot with a plasma blast, and no, he wasn't having a heart attack as the organ continued to pump hard and fast. Focusing, he willed his nanites to reverse the silvery-blue dragonscale that had crawled over three-quarters of his body in the time it'd taken for him to gain control of himself.

What the everloving fuck had woken him?

Keen senses pierced the darkness of his suite's antechamber. Both the entry door and the door to his suite remained closed, with the red lock lights engaged. Nothing stirred on the other couch and there were no scents that didn't belong.

He rubbed at his breastbone, grunting at the intensity of the sensation, then stiffened and flew to the door of his suite. Disengaging the lock, he tore through the main living space and down the hall to the second primary bedroom, her bedroom, and flung open the door. Caeryssa's scent, that delicate blend of lavender and rich female musk, was heavier in here than anywhere else in the multi-room suite after a week of her presence. She'd spent most of that time locked in her bedroom.

Away from him, of course.

She preferred a locked door between her and everyone else. Not that he blamed her after his best friend's assault and his father's lecherous advances during their one and only meeting.

The king's reaction had lingered like a creeping miasma, disturbing Zaen on multiple levels, not the least that Xavix didn't seem to care that Caeryssa was his son's soulmate. Never before had Zaen distrusted his father. Yet, he couldn't shake the disquiet that rose the hair at his nape whenever he recalled the lecherous sneer on the king's face when he thought Zaen wasn't looking.

The prince wasn't one to ignore his instincts. Since they'd arrived, he'd been sleeping on the anteroom couch instead of his comfortable bed, and he'd posted Dhevun at the outer entrance while Zaen slept. He didn't trust his father not to try something. Not after the fiasco of his best friend. And while his bodyguard wouldn't defy the king, he would give Zaen the warning he needed to wake and stop his father.

Not that Caeryssa was aware of Zaen's precautions. He ensured he was back inside the suite before she woke each day. She'd been through quite enough in the short time she'd been in his care. It'd be a fucking miracle if his soulmate ever trusted him at this rate.

But as Zaen stood in her bedroom, breathing in the scent that filled the empty places within him, a breeze stirred the air.

There shouldn't be a breeze.

A glance at the empty bed, silver and blue covers thrown back, and open bathroom door told him what he suspected. The room lacked the energy of her presence.

Where was she?

The air vent at the top of the nearby wall was intact and a hand by it confirmed the breeze wasn't coming from there. He drew the heavy navy curtains and gaped at the broken floor-to-ceiling window. Shards littered the floor, but not enough to account for the size of the window.

How in the endless abyss had it been broken? They were half a kilometre up and the suite windows were blast-proof. Or at least, they were supposed to be.

The glass had somehow been shattered outward.

At least he could rule out someone in a hovercraft breaking in to take her. It hadn't been her father mounting a rescue. He had a planetwide alert out for Karzen Hawke, but without knowing which ship might be his, Zaen had to wait until the assassin made his move.