Dragons were just as intelligent as humans, but to assume that they were anything like us was a mistake. As my dragon lore teacher had said on multiple occasions, they didn't think like us, they didn't feel like us, and they didn't make the same judgment calls.
It was never wise to lower one's guard or underestimate their destructive power.
It or rather he, because it was definitely a male, bent his long neck so his eyes were level with mine, holding me transfixed. Glowing like molten gold, those eyes conveyed intelligence and curiosity, and as he regarded me, I felt as if he was looking straight into my soul and measuring my worth.
Mesmerized and terrified, I didn't dare breathe, but then something stirred inside of me, and I felt compelled to shift my gaze from those golden eyes to those of the rider, which were no less captivating and unnerving.
It almost felt as if the dragon wanted me to look at his rider and had somehow communicated his wish to me, but that was absurd.
Even if I had the gift, it wouldn't manifest until I was twenty-one and the shaman coaxed it to the surface on top of Mount Hope, which would take place five years from now.
Still, here I was, gazing into the impossibly dark eyes of the imposing rider and feeling dazed and lightheaded. Was that why I was seeing gold flakes swirling around his irises, even though he was too far away for me to see such minute details?
Could it be another thought that the dragon had planted in my mind?
When the rider finally released his hold on my gaze, I sucked in my first breath since the start of this strange encounter. He shifted his eyes to my rifle, then the bodies of the Shedun strewn on the ground, and a small smile lifted his lips. A two-fingered salute followed, but instead of offering it to Ednis, it seemed as if he was offering it to me.
Did he think that I, a sixteen-year-old girl, had killed all those Shedun by myself?
I wanted to correct his misconception, but the words refused to form on my lips. Then his dragon dipped its head as if to second the rider's opinion, and my head started spinning.
I stumbled back.
"Easy, girl," Ednis said quietly as he put a hand on my back. "Never show a dragon that you fear it. It might mistake you for prey."
"I'm not afraid," I murmured. "Not anymore."
I was mesmerized, enthralled, and some other emotion I couldn't decipher. A yearning for something.
No, yearning wasn't the right word to describe the intensity of what I was feeling either.
Need.
I needed… what?
To climb on the back of that dragon and look into the eyes of its rider from up close?
What an absurd thought that was!
I was surrounded by carnage, the smell of burned flesh still permeating the air, and yet I was thinking about a guy and the strange connection I felt to him?
It must be the shock or the adrenaline or whatever other hormones were released during battle. Survivor's high. Perhaps a post-combat elation. I'd read about that, but never really understood the phenomenon before.
Now I did.
The thrall was only broken when the dragon launched back into the sky with a powerful beat of those massive wings, the downdraft nearly knocking me over. Ednis steadied me with a firm grip on my arm, and together, we watched as the dragons pursued the last of the fleeing Shedun.
The night was lit up with multiple streams of flame, turning the mountainside into a canvas of fire and shadow. It was an awe-inspiring display, and in my post-battle euphoria, I cheered our dragons on. I wanted them to turn every fleeing Shedun into ash so none of the monsters could return to slaughter the people of another Elucian village.
"They're making sure none escape back into the mountains," Ednis said, his voice filled with vengeful satisfaction. "Burning them as they try to crawl back into their tunnel and then sealing the hole."
Once their grim task was completed, the dragons wheeled overhead in formation, with the huge obsidian dragon that had landed before us taking point and leading the others in a final pass over our village before disappearing into the ribbon of lights above.
The sudden absence of their presence left me feeling strangely hollow.
Despite the auroras still dancing overhead, the night suddenly seemed darker, smaller somehow.
"Those eyes," I whispered, more to myself than to Ednis. "I've never seen anything like that."
