Page 3 of The Dragons’ Eternal Mate

Nix looked at Greylen. “You said you set up cameras in the clinic, didn’t you?”

“Fuck yeah, I did. I can access them from Rowan’s desk.”

“Then why the fuck are we standing around here?” Orsen growled, already storming down the exit toward the clinic. I was hot on his heels, the sounds of the others quickly filling the hallway behind me.

We rushed to the clinic, and I stopped short when we arrived. The door was wide open. Nina was nowhere in sight, and the scent of an especially upset male dragon lingered in the space. My guts twisted. I didn’t like it. This felt wrong.

There was another scent, one that made my knees fucking tremble uncontrollably.

Fear. Pure, unadulterated human fear.

Rowan.

“Holy fuck.” A whine left Nix.

“Terrified,” Orsen muttered, his tone hollow.

Grey beelined for Rowan’s office, sitting behind her desk and opening the laptop to log in. His fingers clacked over the keys, too fucking loud with the increased pounding in my ears, and I hovered over his shoulder, Orsen on his other side, as my clanmate did his thing.

What felt like eons—the seconds like decades of my life ticking away as Rowan got farther from us—was actually mere moments before Grey had the program up to check the footage on the security program.

And then we just waited there, Grey’s hand resting on the mouse as he stared at the screen.

“Play the footage!” I growled, and he shook himself, typing furiously before hitting enter decisively.

I don’t know what I expected when the screen rippled to life. Maybe someone was being aggressive toward her, or Rowan was dealing with an unruly patient, but what I didn’t expect was to see Tanner on his knees, face wet with tears, eyes wide, as he looked up at Rowan, his body shaking.

Then the sound started:

“Six and a half years ago, Cyrus told me to kill you. His orders were clear: burn you with dragon fire and dump your body where no one would ever find it…”

My father’s name spilled from his mouth. My father, who’d asked him to… I was sweating, my stomach roiled as bile crawled up the back of my throat. I shook my head, not wanting to believe it. This was the man who’d raised me, but there was already a small part of me deep down that, when faced with the information, knew it was true.

I knew my father was capable of horrific things. But I’d denied it. He was my blood, and I’d fallen back on that knowledge like it would change what I’d seen with my own eyes time and time again. He was a bastard. Yet, this was a line I thought even he would never dream of crossing.

More of the recording played, confirming the worst of it.

“You needed to know. Need to know now. He’s coming after you again. The second you arrived and every day since. I’ve said no. But he’s threatened Celia… the baby… It won’t matter if I say no for long. He’ll… he’ll do it himself, Rowan. Cyrus will find any way he can to kill you.”

My father, the man I’d trusted my entire life, the one who, despite everything, I was still trying to please, had wanted Rowan⁠—

I nearly threw up, forcing everything down as I inhaled deeply through my nose, my body dripping in a cold sweat.

He wanted her dead. He still does. He… tried to…

“Cyrus?” Orsen asked beside me in a strangled voice, and he took a step back.

“It makes sense in a fucked-up way. We all know he wanted Bastian to be the only Alpha of the horde,” Nix said, his face grim, eyes pointing at the floor.

Everything I had lost, the last six years of suffering, wondering where my mate had gone, and then having her reappear, had all been because of my own father. He’d watched me fall apart, watched me become a shell of who I was, more and more each day, and he’d said nothing. He’d smiled, pretending to be sympathetic.

How had I not seen that?

He’d been right under my fucking nose, posing a threat to my mate, all this time. Years. An uncontrollable growl left me, my mind replaying all the events that’d led us here. My father’s insistence, the constant battles with him about treating Orsen, Grey, and Nix with respect. The way I’d shut down when Rowan appeared again, unable to handle it, to understand, my father encouraging every doubt I had.

The anger, while still present, gave way to a wave of shame, swirling through me, a storm tossing me about, set to drown me in its riptide.

I had been so unsure about Rowan’s motives. I’d questioned everything when, in reality, it was my fault. It was my father who’d ordered her death. She’d just been living her life with us at the cabin. In fact, she’d been about to pack up and join us at North Oak to truly start her life with us.