Page 27 of Red Marked

A Draiger.

I can hardly believe it. Lucky for him, too or he would be dead already.

He has wide shoulders and thick biceps, and his thighs are corded with muscle. This is an active male. Blood drips down his right arm, and his dark hair is tightly cut to his scalp.

A stranger who could very well be a threat, despite his lack of red markings.

He watches me while I decide what to do with him. He keeps his chin up. There doesn’t seem to be an ounce of fear in him, which either means he’s very brave or an idiot.

I crouch and meet his eyes.

“Think before you speak, Draiger. What you say next will decide whether you live or die.”

The ghost of a smile touches his features.

“I’m Flint from Draig Island. I come in peace.” He glances at Scarlet, who is pacing the edge of the ring in scale, smoke threading from her nostrils. “I’d offer my hand, but I think your friend would take my arm with it.” He gives me a full smile, looking too damned sure of himself for my liking.

If he thinks he can disarm me by trying to be sexy and charming, he is dead wrong. I’m sure it’s worked for him plenty, but not today.

His eyes come back to mine and stay there. They’re blue, deep as the open sky, and they’re beautiful, like the rest of him.

Again, if he thinks he can earn my trust just because he is pleasant to look at, he’s mistaken.

I narrow my eyes, and he keeps his gaze on me. It’s filled with open curiosity.

The breeze moves up the ravine and brings me his scent: warm skin and blood and male.

Scale folds and ripples behind me, and then Scarlet is on two feet, jabbing a finger at him.

“He’s lying!” she yells. “You do not come in peace. This is a trap.” The finger swings to me. “This male is very well trained. We need to end him, Star.”

A trap? Maybe.

It’s too soon to tell.

“Get up,” I tell him.

He rises until I have to tip my head back to hold his eyes.

I walk a slow circle around him. The slash across his ribs has stopped bleeding. So has the one between his shoulder blades. I am sure he could have inflicted damage to one or more of my females, and yet he took that beating without once striking back, which means he is either exactly what he says he is, or a great danger to us.

Right now, I’m treating him as the latter.

“Follow me,” I tell him.

“Okay.” His face gives nothing away.

“Flank him.” Several of my females fall in on either side of him. “Kill him if he tries anything.”

“He needs to die,” Scarlet says. “Why are you humoring him?”

“I make the decisions,” I tell Scarlet, who goes red. Her jaw tightens. “He is a Draiger. He clearly isn’t lying about that,” I add, making sure to speak up so that everyone will hear it. “I will question him, and then I will decide the course of action.”

Scarlet shakes her head, jaw still tight, looking at me like I’ve grown a second set of wings. She doesn’t argue.

“The ravine still needs to be manned,” I tell her.

For a breath, I think she’ll disagree. Then she gives one hard nod, shifts mid-stride, and takes the wall in three wingbeats.