Remy’s jaw ticked. Zander’s expression was unreadable.
Talking about me, I assumed grimly, even as I tried not to let it settle in my gut like a stone.
Without a word, I turned my face to the sky and reached for Kaelith.
Her answer was immediate. An electric jolt of awareness snapping into place in my chest as her massive purple form broke through the clouds and swooped downward like falling thunder.
Temil, Koddos, and Kieren weren’t far behind, each descending in great sweeping arcs that scattered dust and set cloaks flapping across the field.
Hein came last, but not slowly. No, his descent was a possessive declaration, a streak of gleaming silver that knifed through the sunlit haze with Kaelith in his sights. He banked at the last moment, his wing brushing just inches from hers, and the rumble in his throat was unmistakable.
Stay away from her.
His eyes locked on Katama—Remy’s dragon—who had begun to glide closer.
Katama wisely turned his course.
Kaelith huffed, unimpressed.Hein has decided I need protecting,she said dryly, though her tone betrayed her amusement.
You don’t mind?I asked.
I didn’t say that. I said it’s amusing.
I smiled.
We saddled the dragons with mechanical precision, tightening leather straps, lashing our provisions to their sides, securing the harnesses. Riven tossed me an extra bundle of dried meat, and I caught it without a word.
Then, one by one, we mounted.
Kaelith’s scales shimmered violet in the dusky air, and the moment I settled into the saddle, she pushed off the earth like a cannon shot. I leaned forward and let her rise, let the wind strip away the weight of everything we were leaving behind.
Hein flew beside us. Not ahead. Not behind.
Just there—always there—his silver wings nearly touching Kaelith’s.
A warning to any other dragon foolish enough to think she was alone.
Especially Katama.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
The sun had set as we flew past the fractured remains of a charred outpost, the sky streaked in amber and smoke. From the air, the area looked like a ghost, its rooftops hollow, streets carved with scars, the stone perimeter cracked from something far stronger than siege weaponry.
We didn’t land inside, though. None of us wanted to. Instead, we set down just beyond the outpost’s edge near the hollow of a ravine, where the dragons could curl around us and keep a watchful eye on the skies. If they were staying close, we were not as safe as the still night suggested.
We set up camp quickly, provisions unpacked, rolls unstrapped and spread across the soft mossy ground. The air was cooler here, the wind whispering through the branches of brittle trees that bent and arched like skeletal fingers. I found a spot near the firepit and unrolled my bedding beside Kaelith, her enormous body already curled protectively around the space, her tail draped loosely across the ground like a lazy warning.
Hein returned from his scouting run not long after, his wings kicking up a gust as he landed. He circled once, then moved in beside Kaelith without a sound. Their scales brushed as they settled together, a silent bond forged in fire and something older.
But peace was short-lived.
“I said we didn’t need to unpack the hardtack,” Zander snapped, crouching over the rations.
“And I said we’re not eating that dried root sludge you brought,” Remy growled back, holding up the offensive bundle like it personally betrayed him.
Zander straightened. “It’s packed with nutrients.”
“It tastes like feet.”
