He is right. Every moment we argue is another moment the enemy seeps deeper into the stone. Another moment the poison threads further into the water.
And I cannot stop Mih-kay-lah without grabbing her. Without hurting her. Without risking her small, fragile bones.
“Kol,” I send, lifting my eyes past her to where the dra-dam stands.
The rest of the cavern is watching. Every Drakav. Every human female who can sit up.
Kol meets my gaze.
Surely he will tell this stubborn, precious thing to remain here.
“Let her go,” his projection hits me. “The other Daughters say she has knowledge. Guard her, dust son. I give you this duty.”
My jaw locks. The dra-dam is giving up without a fight?
I turn my head, ready to snarl at the female to stay put, and I see it. Her chin is jutting out, and her eyes are narrowed into tiny, burning slits that promise a world of pain.
A sudden, cold understanding slides down my spine.
Oh. The dra-dam is not weak. He is wise. Very, very wise.
Guard her. Yes. A much safer duty.
I already do, anyway. In my mind, in my watch, in every pass I have made near her sleeping mat without waking her.
But now he makes it formal. Duty. Command.
Oath.
I step in closer, crowding into her space until she has to tilt her head back to meet my eyes.
“Stay…” The word scrapes. I force the rest out. “Close.”
Her throat works. Her gaze drags over my face, lingering for a dra-kirbeat on my lips.
There is something in the way she looks at my mouth that makes the air feel thick.
Then she seems to remember herself. Her chin drops in a short, sharp jerk.
“Let’s go,” she says, stepping sideways out of my shadow just as a faint heat rises along her cheeks.
I turn with her, watching as she moves to join the others at the tunnel mouth. The basket bumps against her hip.
Dust.
Fine.
My greatest treasure walks with us into danger.
I will manage.
I will be her shield.
If she falls, she will fall onto me. If her feet slip on wet stone, my hands will catch her. If something waits in the dark, it will find my claws and my throat before it ever reaches her skin.
I do not realize Zan is watching me from the side until his presence brushes mine more sharply.
He leans in slightly, his face hard to read in the half-shadow.
