Great. Just great. I’d rescued her from the ether only to thrust her into a situation as dangerous as the one she’d left behind. Some might argue that I’d put her in even more danger. Inside Ivenrail’s castle, she’d lived with a semblance of protection. Out here, she’d be hunted.
Are you and the other dragons alright?I asked Madrood, peering back at his wounds that appeared to have sealed over already.
We’ll recover when we rest tonight.
Can I do anything?
Nothing we can’t do for ourselves.
Good.I allowed my body to slump. My left thigh ached horribly, and I rubbed it, trying to massage away the pain.
Only when I spied Vexxion’s mother’s estate—his court—in the distance did I release a ragged breath.
I swore the ward coated my skin as we passed through it, like we flew through a membrane that allowed us to pass, then resealed behind us.
The three-story stone structure had been built in a big open meadow. The last dregs of sunlight slanted across the tiled roof, glinting like a beacon of dusk-filled hope. Vexxion had only lived here for a short time, but it was the home of his heart.
It had become the home of my heart because he was here with me.
There’s an aerie built into the cliffs beyond the estate,I told Madrood.You and the other dragons can stay there. I’ll make sure you have food and water, and I’ll check all your wounds.
I told you we can heal ourselves.
I want to help,I croaked.Is that alright?
His heavy sigh rang out.
You need grooming. Care and attention.
Give your mate that care and attention. We’ll be fine by ourselves.
You’re sure?
He just grumbled.
If he’d agreed to let me help him and the others, I’d find the strength to do it, but I was going to be busy enough as it is. With no staff at the estate, we’d have to do everything for ourselves. But we wouldn’t be here for long. One night’s rest, and we’d leave. I didn’t know how long it would take to reach Lydel, and we’d have to cross a watery channel after we left the main continent to get there. Even then, it was anyone’s guess if even a bit of security awaited us, since the island remained covered in a thick mesh of thorny vines.
I’ll collect you from the aerie in the morning,I said.
I will not be penned, not even by you, little one,Madrood said gruffly, as if he injected an apology into his words.
It had never occurred to me that our dragons saw themselves as captives, though I can’t imagine why it hadn’t. We caught them as they slipped from their eggs. We kept them close as we trained them. We encased them within tight mesh while we worked them harder than ourselves.
We never gave them the freedom they might crave.
I saw you lying in your stall, staring past the barrier to the valley beyond. I don’t want to pen you,I said.
Longing. Always longing. All of us.
To fly free?
To mate with who we choose, not one chosen for us. To foster our eggs and be there when they hatch. To raise them with pride.His snarl ripped out.To be able to say no. I’ve done things . . .
I saw what you did the day I arrived at the castle.Had he enjoyed burning the fae man?
Dragons have not always been beasts of burden for the fae. Longago, we lived only with each other, not subject to the will of whoever exerted harsh control over us.
You speak of Ivenrail.
