Nicholas had been feeling her die for thirty hours.
The pain was brutal, but the worst of it wasn't the pain. It was her fear and adrenaline flooding into his chest without context like a fist closing around his lungs at random intervals.
Her anguish was his anguish, and he was powerless to help her. If she were his actual mate, he would have been able to do something. But instead, he was sailing across an ocean to try to rescue a woman he'd only met once. He knew in his bones this was the right thing to do, and he had already decided there was no length he wouldn't go for her.
So when he stated that she was in pain to the dragon king, and Maddox didn't even blink, Nicholas knew he was being lied to.
"Her agony reached me across an ocean," Nicholas continued. "So excruciating it forced me out of my shift."
Across the table, Maddox held his expression perfectly still, leaning back in his chair, and took a slow sip of whiskey, as if Nicholas had spoken about the weather.
