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If he lays a finger on any of them, I will hunt that bastard to the ends of the Earth. Skimming the underbellies of the clouds, her will held her aloft when her wings faltered. She was exhausted from her flight from England to Morocco, and hadn’t rested nearly long enough. With at least a two-day flight into the heart of the rainforest ahead of her, Jenna knew her will would be put to the greatest of tests. But failure wasn’t a possibility. Not with so many lives at stake. Sinuous and silent as smoke, the white dragon pumped her wings harder. She pushed upward into the cloud layer, moisture beading her lashes and the ruff along her neck, sliding off pearlescent scales, then punched through it like a bullet through wet cotton, trailing mist behind her barbed tail in long, looping curls.
- Writer
