Empyreal, Book 1

Chapter 31

The crackling fire over the makeshift camp got louder as Dorian strode into view. His stern eyes were hard with determination as he made his way to the small tent near the edge of the clearing.

"Tamsyn! Captain!" Dorian called out, his voice sharp. "Wake up, we have a problem."

A disheveled head of fiery red hair peeked out from the tent flap, followed by Tamsyn's scowling face. Her jaded eyes were still bleary with sleep but quickly narrowed at the sight of Dorian.

"What is it now?" she grumbled in her lilting Irish accent, even as she fumbled for her pants in the dark.

The captain emerged as well, his tanned and weathered face set in a serious expression.

He said nothing, merely raising an eyebrow at Dorian expectantly.

Dorian's jaw clenched, his gaze flickering between them. "It's Malachi. He's taken the girl."

Tamsyn cursed under her breath as she finished dressing. The captain's eyes widened almost imperceptibly before his mouth thinned into a grim line.

"He has a greater hold over her than I realized," Dorian continued through gritted teeth.

His hands curled into fists at his sides. "We have to stop the wedding before they say 'I do.'"

The captain nodded curtly, his mind already working on a plan. Tamsyn's eyes flashed with anger, her fingers intensifying with static electricity.

Dorian's face was bathed in darkness, only the shine of his eyes visible in the firelight. His voice was low and taut. "We don't have much time."

Tamsyn's lips curled into a sneer as she took a threatening step towards Dorian.

"What's wrong?" she mocked, her Irish lilt dripping with disdain. "The great Dorian

Thorne can't handle his own brother?"

Dorian's jaw tightened, the threat in his eyes flashing. "This isn't the time for your petty taunts," he bit out.

"Oh, I disagree," Tamsyn said, her smirk shining dangerously. "I think now's the perfect time to discuss your failings."

She took another step, tilting her head as she regarded Dorian. "Did you really think you could waltz in here and control everything and everyone? Did you think you could stop a wedding centuries in the making?" Tamsyn scoffed. "Pathetic."

Dorian moved quicker than a striking snake, his hand wrapping around Tamsyn's throat.

She let out a choked laugh even as her fingers scrabbled at his wrist.

"Temper, temper," she rasped.

Dorian's lip curled, but he released her with a shove. Tamsyn stumbled back, massaging her neck, her grin wolfish.

The captain stepped between them, hands raised placatingly. "Enough," he rumbled. "We have work to do."

Tamsyn rolled her eyes but said nothing more, her gaze drifting mockingly over Dorian.

He stood motionless, the only sign of his rage the muscle feathering along his jaw.

The captain began laying out a plan, his gravelly voice the only sound in the heavy darkness.

The captain glanced between Dorian and Tamsyn, his weathered face set in hard lines. "Arguing gets us nowhere," he said gruffly. "The wedding is here. We need to act now."

He moved closer to the low burning fire, the light flickering across his craggy features painting him in a harsh light.

Dorian stared down at the crude map, his brow furrowed. "Once we're in, we'll have to draw Sarah away while I confront Malachi." His voice was tight with suppressed anger. "She cannot fully bind herself to him."