It was then that he heard his half-sister call from the safety of the shelter, “What do you mean someonedied?”
“Is Camilla alright?” Revelie demanded. “Ariadne?”
When no one answered right away, the tent flap wavered in unison with hissed words and a short scuffle. Emillie’s voice returned with a sharp, “Is my sister alive?”
Madan sucked in a breath and squatted in place, scrubbing his face with his hands. Everything went to shit so fast…
“Someone please talk to me!” Emillie cried. “Are they safe?”
“He’s fine.” This came from Brutis, the connection wavering back into place as he flew closer again. “Razer got Ariadne out, and Mhorn has Ehrun and Azriel.”
Blowing out a breath, Madan allowed Whelan’s curses to carry on in the distance as he quietly relayed the message from Brutis. The women inside the tent let out a collective sigh of relief. Relief that Madan could not embody. Just because they were en route did not mean everyone was safe.
“They’re on their way back,” Whelan growled in the common tongue, his heavy footsteps announcing his return. “And I’m going to wring that bastard’s fucking neck for doing that. How could hedothat to me after…after…”
Madan’s heart cracked at the words his mate could not muster. Kall. How could he do that after what happened toKall? Looking up, he croaked, “That’s exactlywhyhe did it.”
Whelan paused, face still contorted with fury. “I wasfine. I wasn’t injured. I could’vehelpedhim.”
But Madan’s eyes went to the blood leaking from Whelan’s wounds. No, they weren’t deep nor fatal. Not one of them had hit an artery or needed Phulan’s immediate attention. Nonetheless, he absolutelywasinjured. If Azriel dragged him out of the fight, it’d been for a good reason. Even if Madan hated the thought of his brother being left alone.
“Yes,” Phulan said, as though summoned by Madan’s thoughts. “You most certainly appear to be in tip-top shape.”
Rounding on her, Whelan glowered as he repeated, “I am fine.”
The mage raised her hands in defense and eyed the leaking injuries.
“If anything,” Whelan continued, “Azriel was the one being targeted. He could barely stand.”
“So quickly you went from wanting him dead by your hand,” Phulan quipped from her place by the fire, “to concerning yourself with his well-being.”
“He is my King.”
“He is your brother,” she corrected. “And he didn’t want to risk losing you.”
At that, Whelan’s mouth snapped shut, though his eyes continued to burn with vitriol. He sucked on his sharp teeth and turned inward. Whatever he said to Anthoria was kept fromMadan. A good thing. He didn’t need to listen to his partner and his bondheart bicker.
Minutes scraped by, painful and slow. None of the dragons spoke as all were likely too focused on ensuring their respective charges were protected. Razer with Ariadne, Brutis with Almandine, and Mhorn with Azriel and Ehrun.
In that time, Madan could find nothing more to do than sit with his back against a stone and think about how strange the world had become. Not even two weeks ago, he’d been traveling alongside his best friend, laughing at the dhemon’s exasperation and enjoying the meals prepared with love. Now he waited for that same friend’s brother and murderer to return after fighting beside and likely saving Azriel.
“Give me a blade,” Ehrun had croaked when he stood, shaking with a tear-streaked and newly-tattooed face. The hate had vanished from his eyes, and the deep-seated anger at the world had his tense shoulders sagging as though a weight Madan couldn’t see had lifted after too long.
“Do you take me for an idiot?” Madan had snapped back, keeping his distance from the dhemon.
Ehrun’s lips had trembled, and he shook his head. “No. No…but I… Please let me help.”
It wasn’t until the dragon no one expected appeared, his curling silver horns glinting in the moonlight. With no way to communicate, Mhorn bent low for Ehrun. Madan handed him an ax, and the two old friends disappeared into the night.
When the first shadow swept overhead, Madan’s heart leapt. He shoved back to his feet and watched Brutis glide back into the clearing, almost collapsing from the air as he reached the ground. Molten eyes shuttered. From his back, the smaller opalescent hatchling tumbled to the grass, where she curled in against the grey-scaled dragon.
“They’re not far behind,” Almandine quipped through Madan’s vinculum with Brutis as her long mouth stretched in a yawn.
Sure enough, heartbeats later, another dark shape lowered in, blotting out the brilliant colors of the sunrise. Midnight blue shone with brilliance as Razer circled with far more grace than Brutis and landed, lowering himself so that his rider could dismount.
“We need Phulan,” Razer said, his words frantic and his wide, gold eyes searching. “Get Phulan.”
Madan’s breath hitched. Shrouded in a quilt to block out the sun, somehow Ariadne had managed to keep every inch of her sensitive skin covered. She kept her head ducked and features hidden. From the connection through their exhausted dragons, though, a flood of fear and panic burst through the dam of her own will.
