Zayn and I jolted in surprise as we then took in Lazriel Thaine there holding Winter.
He was a little smaller than his son, but he gave off a formidable physical presence nonetheless. The vibrant-green streaks in his dark hair matched with his forest-green hoodie that was rolled up to his elbows, revealing his many scars along his arms. There were some etched into his face too, calling to his dark and upsetting past, the abuse he’d endured decades ago. His black jeans were stuffed into a pair of well-worn boots.
“Pops,” Winter gasped. “What are you—”
An eruption of red light had his words catching in his throat a second later, when none other than Vorzyr Titanus materialized.
He was a musclebound goliath of a being, standing there in a white muscle tee that put all his black and crimson dragon tattoos on display. His thick legs were encased in a pair of maroon leather pants as he struck a wide stance, his long, black hair flowing behind him and halfway down his back.
He held his hand up, one palm glowing with his vibrant-red magic, as he shook his head at Torvek. “Little brother.”
“V, you don’t understand what—”
“I was meeting with Laz at Vyrn Hollow Shifter Habitat when I felt you blast your way onto the mortal plane with a whole lot of rage and intent to do damage.” He gestured at Winter with his free hand. “To somebody specific. Hence Laz coming along.”
I saw Lazriel stroke Winter’s hair, then step forward growling.
Vorzyr shook his head. “It’s all right, friend. This won’t go any further.” Then he snapped his fingers at Torvek. “Call your power back.”
They glared at one another for several moments.
Vorzyr snarled and took a single step forward.
Torvek snuffed out his power.
Dragon dominance laid bare.
Especially between brothers like them.
“Now explain this,” Vorzyr ordered him.
“Right the hell now,” Lazriel snarled, clutching Winter tightly.
Zayn slipped his hand into mine, and I realized it was because I was shaking.
It wasn’t like me at all in the face of battle.
But seeing people I cared about deeply embroiled in all this… it was a lot.
And worse… it was because of me.
Because of a choice I’d made—to sleep with Winter. To ask him to help me control my abilities in that situation with beings who weren’t just dragon like me.
Torvek took a moment, then explained what had happened.
It was clear to me that both Vorzyr and Lazriel already knew about the sex thing, because they barely reacted to that aspect.
Torvek left out what he’d heard about the issue with Winter’s powers, though.
It was him being his usual calculated self, coming back to the regular him, the one not hopped up on rage from the fear of me being in danger—and him being raw over the Fanor situation.
“How did the spell drop?” Lazriel asked Winter gently.
When Winter struggled to answer, I cut in, “He was working on his Necromancy, experimenting, and it shorted out that spell in the process, knocked his magic out.”
“What sort of experimenting?” Lazriel asked Winter. “If something is wrong, son, Dad needs to be looped in.”
“It was a brand-new thing I was trying… I mean… creating… through my own grimoire-writing for one of my classes. It backfired. I didn’t do the spellwork carefully enough.”
