“I’m okay,” Beth calls. “We’re fine. Just a little … um—”
“Terrified!” Clotty yells.
More wyverns circle overhead as Iridiel moves even closer to the one perched above my mate.
“Calm down. She’s friendly.” He inches forward, then switches back to the strange language. The wyvern makes noises that sound almost like mewling.
Other wyverns land around us, their great wings sending dust and pebbles flying. One snaps its teeth at Baralja, but to his credit, he doesn’t flinch.
The wyverns are smaller than those in the winter realm, but still big enough to be deadly. Their claws alone can cut a fae in half, and the fire they breathe has destroyed many a city.
I edge closer to Beth. She’s hidden behind the beast’s long neck, but I can sense her. As she listens to Iridiel, her fear turns to a grudging wonder.
“It’s beautiful,” she thinks down the bond. “The scales are iridescent. I kind of want to pet it.”
“Don’t touch it!”
“You can hear me?” Surprise colors her thought.
“Your emotions are running high, and the bond is growing stronger by the day.”
“I can send you secret messages. I love this!”
Chastain gives me a confused look. Probably because I’m grinning at Beth’s thoughts while brandishing my blade at the wyvern. I shrug. Love is a confusing thing, after all.
A larger wyvern lands to our right, its wingspan easily twice the size of the others. It must be the bull, these others females or younglings. The male’s slitted green eye focuses on Iridiel, and it bares its sharp teeth.
“Iridiel,” I call out a warning, but he’s already rubbing his Spires-damned horn along the female’s snout.
“Yarinna,” he calls but doesn’t stop canoodling with the now-purring wyvern.
One of the unicorn mares steps from the huddled group and prances to the bull, her mane glittering in the sun and her horn sparkling with magic.
The bull sniffs her, his mouth still in a snarl. His pupil grows bigger, and he sniffs again as she leaps atop a boulder in front of him and turns, then flicks her tail in his face.
“You like that, big boy?” She flicks it again, and the bull takes a deep inhale. His fangs retract as his serpentine tongue flashes out and licks her.
Its growl shakes even more of the scree loose, the bits of rock rolling down the mountain.
Baralja snorts but covers his mouth with his hand. I follow the direction of his gaze beneath the bull, then look away. The colossal creature is definitely interested in the mare, and the other wyverns crowd around the unicorns. Mating scent eddies through the air, and I take the opportunity to dart past the first wyvern and pull Beth and Clotty free.
“Ah, my beautiful one.” Iridiel rubs his horn faster, and the wyvern drools, her spit sizzling as it hits the stone.
Beth’s eyes are almost as big as dinner plates as the other unicorns spread out and what can only be described as an orgy begins.
“Their lair is just beyond the cliff.” Iridiel’s voice is lower, his withers spiked. “You might want to—”
“We’re going.” Parnon stomps past, Boland at his back, and the rest of us make the short climb as sounds of utter debauchery begin to resonate around the craggy peak.
“We need to negotiate with them, not …” Chastain waves a hand toward the mating party.
“We’re going to have to wait till they’re finished.” I pull Beth and Clotty into the wide cavern with bones scattered about. At the back, a towering pile of jewels sparkles in the gloom. All wyverns hoard. These are no different, but their stash of treasure is larger than most.
“Plucked from the miners they’ve stolen.” Clotty stares at the fortune, then glances at a pile of human bones. “Ate the poor slave and took their day’s work.”
“Animals.” Parnon sits heavily on the edge of the cavern. “It’s in their nature.”
“And it’s in my nature to be cross about it.” She harrumphs but sits next to him.
