Rolling my shoulders, I let my shadows seep out, reddish-black scales building over me and wings unfurling without substance. I could turn them solid in a heartbeat and still hold on to my common form—my gift from Cealastra, along with my wounds healing when I shift.
Half-letting my dragon out relieves some of the tension snapping inside me, but gives free rein to another source of conflict. Dragons gather. We don’t relinquish. We don’t ignore. We don’t do nothing. The dragon seeping from me immediately wants to collect Idallia, Fyrestar, and Rimblaze and keep them next to me, where I can see, protect, smell. Know they’re here. Know they’re well. Know they’re mine.
My breath hisses through my teeth, and I force the thickening shadows back inside me.
I collected a very valuable girl a long time ago, and the dragon in me doesn’t understand the idea of letting her go—even if it’s to give her back to herself now that she’s a grown woman. The man in me wants to argue less and less now.
Wary of my own thoughts—and the increasing clarity of them—I move toward one of the deer tracks but remain off to one side. My back against a tree, I listen and watch, keeping my focus where it should be—on the lookout for night raiders. I stay fully in skin, not letting the shadow of my dragon back out to tempt me with primal instincts I barely want to deny anymore.
Kellan’s Featherspear suddenly caws above me. My head snaps up, my pulse accelerating. There’s only one phoenix. Grambolt must’ve gone to gather other team members.
“Mount up!” I call to Idallia, knowing she’ll hear. I shift and rise toward Featherspear. “What’s happening?” I demand just as Fyrestar and Idallia join us above the forest, Rimblaze on their wing.
“Alarm bells are ringing in Draywood. You can’t hear them from here.” I cock my head, listening. Even my dragon doesn’t hear. “Everyone else is already headed to Draywood. Wade and Danica warned us. They were closest and heard the bells. Kellan sent me to tell you,” Featherspear says.
Fire rolls between my fangs as I turn south and speed up. The information relay worked, but the attack happened leagues from here.
Catching up to us, Idallia calls out, “Wade and Danica might already be fighting? By themselves?”
“I don’t know.” Featherspear’s plumage burns with worry, fire trailing from his wings.
“Rim’s not supposed to go into battle yet,” Idallia shouts across the night sky to me.
I glance over, glad to see the torque Stuart made for her back around her neck. “Rimblaze will do what needs to be done. We’ll see what that is when we get there.”
She pales to starlight white and glares at me like she just might hate my royal guts. I don’t like it, but the condemnation in her cold stare isn’t enough to make me set aside an asset in a fight.
Rimblaze glows brighter, excitement sparking from him. I want him ready but cautious, and say, “Stay with Fyrestar and follow his lead. Don’t get in above your head.” I’d hoped my warning would appease Idallia, but she doesn’t look impressed.
Rim chirps his agreement. Fyrestar gives the younger bird a stern look, emphasizing the message.
Idallia’s jaw hardens. She turns away from me, looking straight ahead.
“If they raised the alarm in Draywood, the soldiers there must be fighting the vampires,” Fyrestar caws. “The local garrison didn’t know to alert us instead of engaging. We might not be able to take the prisoners we need.”
“We don’t even know if there are vampires,” I say. “It might be something else.”
“Like what?” Idallia’s acid-and-ice tone matches the cutting look she gives me, her golden eyes like chips of colored glass.
I let my inner fire heat mine—a warning. “We’ll know when we get there.”
“If it’s a raid, and it’s anything like usual,” Featherspear chirps over to us, “half the vampires will be dragging their catches straight for the border while the other half holds off the town’s soldiers.”
“If that’s the case, do we help the soldiers or try to cut off the traffickers?” Idallia asks.
I grind my fangs. Porthwood was an educated guess, and it angers me that I guessed wrong. “We cut off the traffickers. If they cross the border into Bloodwold, we lose them and the people they took.”
An enormous, bright glow illuminating the horizon comes into view before Draywood does.
“Great Cealastra.” Idallia stares in shock. “Half of Draywood is on fire.”
My heart seems to drop dead in my chest. Keen vision and our view from above allow me to see a large band of blood thieves racing toward the border, as well as the inferno engulfing my town.
“That’s a new tactic,” Fyrestar rattles angrily. Rimblaze squawks his shock.
“What do they hope to gain by that?” Idallia’s face scrunches up as the first hint of smoke bites our nostrils. “That’s not kidnapping. It’s destruction.”
“Maybe it wasn’t meant to happen,” Fyrestar says. “An accident.”
