Dragonfury 02 - Fury of Ice

palm, and now…heart to heart.
    “Blood of my blood,” Bastian murmured, reciting the ancient words of the blood oath. “Of one mind. Brothers in battle and for all time.”
    Lifting his chin, Forge repeated the incantation. As his gaze met B’s, the connection flared, snapping into place, binding them together in the way of their kind…the time-honored tradition of the warrior. Bastian nodded once, then released his grip on Forge to step aside. Rikar sliced his own hand and took his commander’s place. Locked together by touch and magic, he completed the ritual, recited the words, heart hammering as he tied himself to Forge. The blood bond rippled between them as he accepted the male and was accepted in return.
    The other Nightfuries crossed the threshold into the cell. Each male took his turn kneeling with Forge. First Venom and then Wick. Sloan. And finally Mac.
    When the last word had been spoken and the last blood droplet spilled, Bastian stepped forward. Standing in front of a still-kneeling Forge, he held out his hand. The warrior took the offering, allowing B to pull him to his feet.
    “Welcome, my brother,” Bastian murmured.
    Forge blinked, combating the sheen of moisture in his eyes. “ Mervaiz , commander.”
    “Well done, zi kamir .” Fiercely proud of the male, Rikar palmed the side of Forge’s neck. The newest member of the Nightfury pack met his gaze and nodded, thanking him without words. Rikar jostled him in answer, then let go, stepped back, and tipped his head toward the corridor. “Now go…meet your son.”
    Forge’s focus snapped toward the front of the cell. Rikar’s mouth curved. Thank fuck for Daimler. Per usual, the male was right on time, standing just outside the cell beside a mound of floor cushions. A wide smile on his elfin face, a precious bundle in his arms, the Numbai murmured a greeting, then offered Gregor-Mayhem to his sire.
    Tears pooled in Forge’s eyes. Rikar looked away, his own eyes burning, his chest gone tight as the newest member of the Nightfury pack walked toward Daimler to hold his son for the first time.

     
    Messy piles of papers spread out on the kitchen table. Lothair tapped the tip of his pen against the bottom of his new list. The latest one. Number one hundred and forty-fucking-whatever.
    With a sigh, Lothair tossed the BIC on the table and leaned back in his chair. Seemed about right, and he was starting to hate lists. And family trees, but…derrˋmo. He couldn’t argue with results. Or that three days spent compiling—checking and rechecking—had finally paid off. He’d hit the jackpot last night.
    Twins. Friends of the two females already locked in cellblock A. Blonde. Beautiful. High-energy. The pair were Ivar’s favorite kind of female. Needless to say he’d made the boss very, very happy last night.
    Himself, too.
    The pleasure of securing the pair in cellblock A, however, took a backseat at the moment. With the afternoon light waning, he needed a new target. Several new ones. He was still three females short of the seven Ivar needed to round out the breeding program. Which meant he didn’t have time to waste, never mind celebrate the fact he’d proven his theory.
    There remained little doubt. High-energy females were drawn to each other. Were either born into the same family or became the best of friends. They lived together. Worked together. Hung out together. Recognized something in each other. A likeness, maybe. A shared energy vibe as the Meridian reached out, touched, and connected them.
    His eyes narrowed on the list of potential candidates, Lothair shrugged. Whatever. He didn’t give a shit about the whys and wherefores. All he cared about was pinpointing another female to go after when night fell.
    Find one…find more. That was his stupid motto now, and would be for the foreseeable future. Until he had all seven in the kitty for Ivar to play with.
    Four down. Three to go. A small victory, but a hollow one.
    The she-cop was still on the loose.
    Growling low in his throat, Lothair flipped his laptop open. As the MacBook fired up, he slid a sheet of paper from beneath a messy stack. He couldn’t stand it. The fact Angela Keen was still out there drove him insane. He couldn’t sleep during the day. Kept dreaming of her…of what he would do when he finally got his hands on her. He needed to hurt her. Shame her. Wrap his fingers around her neck and squeeze the life out of her.
    “Hey, Lothair.”
    Unclenching his teeth,