Wyatt
It felt like Wyatt’s wings were powered by terror alone as he raced through the sky. His heart pumped viscous fear through his veins, and for the first time in his life, the cold air chilled him to the bone. He kept the motionless body of his mate clutched protectively in his claws as he flew. At first, heat had radiated out from her, comforting his beast and keeping Wyatt’s dread in check. But as the journey wore on, she grew colder and colder, and even as he tried to fly faster, Wyatt knew that Amelia’s inner fire was starting to dim. If the spark went out completely, she would die.
His dragon’s strength melded with his own in response to Amelia’s mortal peril, but they were both exhausted, and judging from the sun’s position in the sky, they’d only been flying for about nine hours. He’d never flown for that long before and he didn’t know if he could make the rest of the long flight without needing to rest, but Wyatt wasn’t sure that Amelia had another three hours left in her, let alone longer so that he could take a break. Fury poured out of his dragon, indignant that Wyatt should question their combined strength.
No rest, it informed him angrily.Save mate.
Even if they made it in time, Wyatt didn’t know if he was taking his mate back to the very people who had tried to kill her. Had the attempt on her life come from her father, the elders, or had that bastard Silas caught up with her? Wyatt had no way of knowing who was to blame. What if the elders had somehow found out about their relationship and made good on their promise? The only thing Wyatt was certain of was that if he hadn’t tried to bring her home, she would have died anyway. Without question. At least this way there was a fighting chance that he could save her. It was as much as he could hope for.
Wyatt wasn’t stupid, or naïve. He knew that by returning to the homelands, even if it was to save Amelia’s life, he would be facing certain death. But he didn’t care about his own life. All that mattered to him was that his mate lived. Shehadto survive this.
The next three hours were the longest of Wyatt’s life and the closer they got to the clan’s home, the colder Amelia became. But there was still a tiny bit of warmth left in her body, allowing Wyatt to cling on to the hope that she could still be saved. It was a long shot, but it was the only thing that kept him going.
When the mountain range that housed the cave system his clan lived in came into sight, Wyatt’s dragon flapped his wings harder and as they swooped down towards the entrance, the small gathering of men outside caught the beast’s attention. The elders were in the middle of a clan meeting.
They conducted the meetings every week under the premise of discussing any issues that had arisen since the last meeting, but really the assembly was just an excuse for the men to get together without the women or any young, and gossip. Wyatt’s dragon roared out a warning right before it landed heavily on its back feet right in the middle of a small huddle, soliciting an array of gasps and shouts of indignation. Wyatt cussed silently and wrested control back from the beast before the clan could think they were attacking. He placed Amelia gently on the ground then collapsed on his side, utterly spent. Amelia’s father broke away from the others and dropped to his knees at his daughter’s side.
Exhaustion clouded his vision and made every breath a labor, but Wyatt couldn’t succumb to it until he had told the elders what had happened. He used the last ounce of energy left in his body to shift back to his human form.
“What’s the meaning of this? What have you done to my daughter?” Amelia’s father demanded, glaring at Wyatt.
“I haven’t done anything to her, she was poisoned,” Wyatt replied. “Dragonsbane.”
All the color drained out of her father’s face then he scooped his daughter up into his arms and ran toward the cave entrance, evidently in search of a healer.
“You were warned what would happen if you came back here,” one of the elders said, and Wyatt turned to him defiantly.
“I would die a thousand deaths to spare her a moment’s pain.”
“What was she doing with you?” another man asked and Wyatt turned to the familiar voice and took his first glance at his father in fifty years. The man had aged well, but there was no warmth in his expression, only cool indifference.
Wyatt lifted his chin and met his father’s stoic gaze. “We met by chance, although I don’t know if it was an accident as much as it was fate. She’s my mate.”
Several gasps rang out around the rest of the elders.
“She is promised to another,” one of the men said.
“Really?” Wyatt shot back. “I know I’ve been gone for fifty years, but does the mate bond mean nothing to you people anymore?”
“You are no dragon anymore,” one of the men said. “You were banished. The council does not recognize your bond.”
Wyatt had heard enough. He was exhausted, ready to drop, but he had to know how if Amelia was going to be okay. Nothing else mattered, and certainly not the grievances of a pack of old men. He was about to tell them so when her father chose that moment to return from the caves. He was flanked by a pair of male dragons that Wyatt didn’t recognize and as Wyatt’s gaze flicked to him, his heart began hammering in his chest.
“Amelia?” he asked, his voice catching.
“Dead to you,” the man returned. “Guards, seize him. Wyatt Carson, you are hereby sentenced to death.”
Wyatt heard no more because he passed out cold on the frigid ice.
