Ash watched him for a second, as if she could see into his skull. Then she gave a small shrug. “I think it will be so for everyone.”
She turned away, grabbed her backpack from the step, and ran up the rest. The door shut with a soft click, yet the sound exploded in his head like a finality.
Every muscle in his body strained to follow.
He locked his knees and stayed put.
Need mate,his dragon snarled, pacing restlessly beneath his skin. Hell, he wanted to pace too. To fucking put his fist through the wall.
No,he snapped.You know damn well why!
“You okay?”
Race looked up to find Attor watching him as he moved another map into place.
“Yeah.” He shrugged off his cloak and draped it over the back of a chair, then faced the window again, the dark sky a mirror ofhis mood. Heat rippled through him again, coiling under his skin like wildfire. He ignored it.
“You know…” Attor began quietly. “The rut can get dangerous if ignored.”
Pointless denying it. “I’ll be fine. I’ve lived through it before.”
He pulled a crystal vial from his pocket, the little remaining elixir inside gleaming amber in the firelight, unscrewed the cap, and swallowed the potion. The bitter liquid burned a trail down his throat. Hell, that was the last bit. It wouldn’t hold off the rut for long.
Bregga’s shuffling footsteps echoed from the hallway, each drag against stone grating on Race’s nerves.
“Be a note for ye.” His gnarled fingers produced a folded piece of worn parchment, which he handed to Race.
He flipped it open.
Dragon’s Tooth.
K.
“From Koal.” He handed Attor the missive then picked up his cloak. “Keep her safe. I’ll be back soon.”
He dematerialized into a narrow, shadow-dense alley. The wind clawed at his cloak and whipped through his hair, carrying the reek of decaying garbage and stale ale that made his sensitive nose twitch. Hood on, he walked up the silent street.
Another wave of heat rolled through him, and he clenched his jaw, forcing down his dragon’s restless rumbles.
The Dragon’s Tooth Inn crouched at the edge of Duskscale like a waiting predator, its weathered sign creaking in the bitter wind. Unlike the brighter establishments near the town square, this place drew a rougher breed—guards between shifts, miners with coal-grimed hands, and wanderers who preferred shadows to lamplight.
Race slipped inside, the heavy door groaning shut behind him. The press of males and smoke made his head pound, hisrut-heightened senses overwhelmed by the stench of sweat and spilled spirits.
He kept his hood low and crossed to the back where Koal sat.
Through their bond, he knew Ash had finally drifted into sleep. Relief eased the tightness in his chest. The last thing he needed was her presence in his mind while fighting both his dragon’s territorial instincts and his brutal need.
Koal pushed the other tin mug to him, white foam frothing over its rim. He nursed his ale, head lowered as he listened to the conversations around him.
“They’ve been coming in during the last few days,” Koal murmured as he sipped his draft. “Something’s stirring.”
“Another round,” a ranked soldier—a lieutenant—called from the corner. The males lounged around him, their armor clattering as they raised their tankards. “To the king’s health and prosperous days ahead!”
“And his newest prizes,” one added with a laugh that made Race’s jaw clench until his teeth ached.
“Heard they found something special in the eastern peaks,” the lieutenant continued, his voice thick with drink. “Some halfling brat with true power. Made the forge stones sing, they say.”
Forge stones?What the fuck was that?
