Dragonfury 02 - Fury of Ice

think about it.
    But even as he told himself to leave it alone, his mind laid out possible outcomes like flash cards. As he pictured each one, he shuffled on the chair, wanting to get up and go hunting. To carve the Razorback into little pieces and watch him bleed out. He watched Angela instead, breathed with her, willing her chest to rise and fall even as his heart ached for her. For the moment she woke up and discovered the life she knew was over. No more police precinct. No more homicide division. Good-bye, normal. Hello, strange new world.
    His brows collided as he laced his fingers between the spread of his knees. Maybe she knew already. Maybe, on some level—deep down in the place called female intuition—she understood what capture by the Razorbacks meant…that she was no longer safe in the human world.
    Wishful thinking? Probably.
    He wanted her acceptance: of him, her new life, all of it. And right now, fooling himself into believing she wouldn’t fight the transition was fantastic fiction. The fantasy chilled him out, relaxing his frosty side, and as his tension eased, the headache hammering his temples moved to the back of his head.
    With a sigh, Rikar dipped his chin, pulling on the stiff muscles bracketing his spine. As the knots released, slipping loose one by one, he groaned. Hmm, that felt good. Maybe a full-on stretch session was in order. Although, no way he’d follow Venom’s example and hit the yoga mat. Screw the hatha shit. Wrapped knuckles and hitting the heavy bag was more his style. Still, a little Zen in his morning couldn’t hurt, so—
    “No!”
    The sharp denial—half scream, half rasp—brought Rikar’s head up. His gaze caught on Angela’s face, and he lost his ability to breathe for a moment. Fine brows furrowed, she flinched, fists balled and legs churning beneath the sheet as she cried out in her sleep. A nightmare. After what she’d been through, he’d expected it, but the reality was far worse. Watching her fight an imaginary foe gutted him, and as he shoved the chair back and stood, he wasn’t sure what to do. Wake her? Restrain her?
    He shook his head. Holding her down wasn’t a good idea. Lothair had done that and…fuck him. He refused to do the same.
    “Angela…shh, baby,” he said, hoping to soothe her. God, he wanted to touch her so badly, but instinct told him to keep his distance. At least for now. “It’s all right. You’re safe…you’re safe now.”
    “My gun,” she rasped, eyes moving rapid-fire behind her lids as she fought imaginary monsters. “Where’s my…I need it…he’s gonna—”
    “No, angel. I’m right here.” Rikar struggled to keep his voice even, but it was hard. He wanted to let loose, give voice to his pain, and put his fist through the nearest wall. But Angela didn’t need his rage. Not now. What she needed was comfort and soothing, both of which he could provide…as long as he kept his frickin’ head screwed on straight. “He can’t get you. I won’t let him. You’re safe.”
    Her breath shivered in and out, the harsh sound one of fear and—
    Fuck it. He reached out, her hitching sobs tearing him apart. Moving slowly, keeping it soft, he cupped her cheek. She went still a second, then turned her head, pressing her face into his palm. His breath caught as she nestled in, seeking more of his touch. He gave it to her, sliding one hand to her nape while he caressed her temple with his fingertips. “That’s right, angel. Settle down. You’re all right.”
    Her brows furrowed. “I want my Glock.”
    Her words came out slurred, and Rikar’s lips curved. Christ, he couldn’t help it. Relief had him by the balls. Respect for her had him by the heart. Anyone else would’ve said, I want my Mommy . But oh, no. Not his angel. Even pumped full of painkillers and gripped by nightmares, she was strong. Ready to defend herself from all comers. And in that instant, he decided. His magic flared as he conjured a Glock 19, standard police issue.
    Still cupping her nape, he put the gun in her hand. “Here, love.”
    She jerked as the cold metal hit her palm, then hummed and settled, curling onto her side, hugging his forearm to her chest like she needed both him and the weapon close. Which choked him up.
    And there he went again…falling into pansy mode.
    Shaking his head, Rikar gave himself a mental kick as footfalls echoed out in the corridor. Time to pull it together. One of his brothers was seconds away and—
    The door