“You can head over to the others,” Remy whispers in my ear, his husky voice sending shivers down my spine. “I’ll get dressed and join you in a second.”
I nod, not trusting my voice to stay steady. I don’t know how something as simple as his raspy voice can cause heat to pool in my core, but here we are.
Shaking my head at myself, I make my way over to the rest of the guys. I pause briefly to stare into the gently glowing pond, feeling myself get lost in it for a moment. Something about the water calls to me, but I don’t have time to examine it too closely right now.
I have many more important questions to get answered.
Once I reach the rest of the guys, Remy is fully dressed and jogging over to us.
“So, what’s a mud dragon?” I ask when Remy comes to stand next to me.
Before he can answer, Azrael cuts in. “Let’s talk as we walk. I don’t want to spend any more time here than necessary.”
Not waiting for my response, Azrael starts making his way out of the cavern and back down the long hallway.
I hustle to catch up with him. “Why?”
Azrael doesn’t answer me, but Rook does. “Our dragons are used to shifting here. It’s one of the few places we can shift safely. The longer we’re here with you, the more eager our dragons are to come out. If we stay here too long, you’re going to be surrounded by an entire flight of enthusiastic dragons, which will be chaotic.”
“What’s a flight?” I feel like a toddler, askingwhyto everything. But there’s so much I don’t know about them and myself.
I’m apparently a dragon shifter, but I didn’t grow up around other dragons. So I’m super behind with understanding our kind compared to other people my age. It makes me feel insecure, and I want to learn everything I can to catch up.
“It’s a grouping of dragons. Valors are equivalent to packs or streaks or prides or whatever to regular shifters. Flights are usually three to seven dragons who will eventually form mate groups. Members of a flight fight together, live together, and do most things together.”
My heart squeezes painfully at the mention of their mate. “So you all share the same mate?”
I’ve been trying not to think too hard about the fact that all of us have a mate or mates out there somewhere. And I’m pretty sure I’m not theirs, so that means I’ll eventually lose them.
I know it’s a bad sign when my heart feels like it’s breaking at the mere thought of losing the five of them to another woman. I suck at this whole not-getting-attached thing.
Rook gets a weird look in his eyes and avoids meeting my gaze. “Yeah, we do.”
We exit the corridor into the original cavern as Rook and I talk. Azrael walks over to the wall and slices his palm before pressing it to the same place he did earlier. The doorway groans open once the rock is smeared in his blood.
I’m not sure why the cave demands blood for entrance and exit, but it definitely lends itself to the air of mystery surrounding it.
When we step out into the midday sunlight, I ask, “Do female dragons have flights?”
I know for most shifters, males outnumber females pretty significantly. Women tend to have more than one mate because of this imbalance, while men share a mate with others. Everything could be different with dragons, though.
Rook shakes his head. “Not until they find their mates.”
Well, I guess at least one thing is similar between what I know of shifters and dragons. That means I should still have multiple mates.
The part of me that lacks common sense is filled with hope that maybe the guys are my mates. I’m a dragon, just like they are, so it’d make sense if we’re mates. At least, more sense than a flight of dragons mating with a white tiger shifter.
But I’d already know if they were my mates if that were the case. Shifters find their mates by smell, and the guys don’t smell like anything in particular to me. Even with Azrael’s illusion to hide their scents, I think I’d still be able to tell if they were.
I shut down that naïve part of me that hopes something like that could happen. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that life always disappoints. There’s no point in hoping. All hope does is get me hurt.
Sighing at myself, I focus on the nature surrounding me as we trek back to their house. Or, at least, I assume we’re going back to their house.
I’m lost in my swirling thoughts about mates, the guys, and when they inevitably find their mate, no matter how hard I try not to think about it. I’m surprised when we walk through the iron gates to their house, having completely zoned out for the entire walk.
The guys are talking quietly among themselves while giving me space to process everything. I’m sure they assume I’m thinking about being a dragon, not managing the silly disappointment that we aren’t mates.
Annoyed at myself, I stomp down the walkway, through the garage, and into their house, my footfalls angrier and harder than they need to be.
