Fury of Shadows: Dragonfury Series: SCOTLAND #2 by Coreene Callahan

Author:Coreene Callahan [Callahan, Coreene]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2017-08-27T16:00:00+00:00

Twelve

Dressed in comfortable sweats, Elise sat alone at the dining room table, one thought circling like vultures over a dead body. She couldn’t go home…ever.

Not if she wanted to stay alive.

Amantha was going to kill her.

Pain and regret tumbled through her as she thought of her best friend. She’d been there through thick and thin, a constant source of laughter and support. God, she was going to miss her snarky attitude. Her warped sense of humor and big-hearted generosity too. Throat gone tight, Elise set her elbow on the table and her chin in her palm. Maybe she could find a way to contact Amantha. Let her know that she was all right, not lying dead in a ditch somewhere. Her friend deserved to know. She didn’t want her to worry, and Amantha would boil over without news. Pace herself silly, eat too many sweets waiting for Elise to get in touch.

Maybe she should mention it to Cyprus. A phone call wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Elise chewed on the question, wondering what he would say…and if she’d be safe doing anything in the human world.

Cyprus didn’t pull any punches. Or make any bones about how dangerous Edinburgh would be for her now. He’d been honest to the point of bluntness, explaining about Grizgunn and the asshole’s ability to track her if she left the safety Cyprus and his pack provided.

Talk about a fist to the solar plexus. An hour had passed since the big reveal: talk of energy feedings and magical talents, the ability to shift between human and dragon form…her importance as a high-energy female in the Dragonkind world.

The concept shook her foundation, yet made her feel special too. Worthy. Deserving of attention. Important to someone. Truly seen for the first time in years. It was as though she’d been waiting her entire life for someone to lift the veil and hand her the information.

Which was weird. Not at all the right reaction.

She should be running, screaming, freaking out in major ways. All she’d managed so far was an upset stomach. Elise frowned at the paisley table cloth. Ugly swirling pattern. Gaudy color combination. Zero panic in sight. Just a terrible case of indigestion as reality sank in, then reached out to nudge her. Again. For what seemed like the millionth time since Cyprus lifted her out of the shower, dried her off, and dressed her with nothing but a thought.

Swallowing the awful taste in her mouth, Elise smoothed her hand over the sleeve of her dark orange sweatshirt. It was insane. Barely believable at all. He’d conjured clothes for her out of thin air. With nothing more than the wave of his hand.

Magic, he said.

A whole lot of crazy town, she thought (very quietly) to herself.

No sense voicing her opinion and insulting him. After all Cyprus had done for her—holding her throughout the day, healing her injuries, letting her cry all over him—upsetting him somehow seemed rude. Like the worse sort of affront. Elise huffed. Not the Canadian way at all.

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