Ash flung her backpack down and sprinted across the cave—damn, these shifters moved fast. She blocked his path. “What,” she panted, “wasthat?”
“Leave it alone, Ash.” His jaw clenched hard enough for her to see, a nerve pulsing hard under his skin. Their breath fogged the bare space between them as they glared at each other.
“No. You don’t get to growl and storm off after that caveman display.” She didn’t understand him or why he was so furious. As if the mere thought of harm touching her was unbearable?
And yet…it felt like more than that. Like something too deep. Too raw… Like memories he didn’t want?
“Are you okay?” she asked quietly, her gaze searching his hard, implacable features.
His jaw hardened further, if that was possible. “We’re leaving.”
She sighed. So much for worrying about him. “I thought you couldn’t access the portal until evening, when the guards change?”
“It is evening on that side.” He sidestepped her and stalked out of the cave.
Ugh,maddening man.Ash stomped after him.
“Are you all right, female?” Attor asked, seated on a flattened boulder near Skaldr. “Heard you call out.”
Bloody dragon ears.
“My fault.” She managed a rueful smile. “I finished up sooner than Koal expected and shouted for him. These bleed-cedars can be scary.” She glanced around for him.
“He’ll be back. He’s lucky he still breathes,” Attor replied, tone dry.
Right. Ash slipped past Race as the tension thickened between him and the other two shifters, neither side backing down. Hell, it felt like sandpaper scraping her skin.
God, stubbornness ran hard with this lot, and Race was probably the worst.
“Eracier.” Skaldr’s tight voice broke the heavy silence. “You haven’t seen the horrors of those mines. They cart off fledglingsfor weeks. When the wagons return, there’s always one less. The rest, crippled, hollow-eyed?—”
“Why would they do that?” Ash’s stomach lurched. “They’re children.”
“Because the fucking usurper made it law!” Skaldr jerked to his feet, shoving a blood-matted strand of red hair from his eyes. “Six winters and older? Into the pits. Because the bastard needs more riches.”
“Come with us, Eracier,” Attor said. “Just this once. See for yourself.”
“Maybe you should.” Her pulse drumming, her gaze darted to Race. “While we’re still here?”
“Stay out of this, Ash,” he growled.
Heat scorched her cheeks, but she refused to back down. “Iwouldhave stayed out of it if I hadn’t been dragged here, but I am.I’ve seen that village, felt the despair. You can’t look away when your own people thinkyoucan help. I admit I don’t know how you’ll do it, but they—” she nodded toward Attor and Skaldr, “seem certain you can.”
Anger swallowed his claret irises to nearly black.
Ash’s heartbeat stuttered, then steadied. She’d watched pack animals square their shoulders with their alpha. She did the same, her chin lifting in quiet challenge.
Race skewered Ash with a flat look, frustration strangling him that she’d dare challenge him in front of this lot. But her terror from the whelp leaving her alone gutted him, reminding him far too much of his own helplessness in Tartarus.
And his rage resurged like wildfire. His dragon prowled inside his skull, claws scraping against bone.
Both man and beast wanted Koal dead.
About to end this blasted conversation, his gaze caught on her kiss-swollen lips, her taste still ghosting his tongue, her scent tangled in his head, and his body tightened.
Ours, his dragon chuffed?—
“Eracier,” Attor’s voice cut through the storm in his head. Mid-morning light flittered through the treetops, carving sharp hollows under the older dragon’s eyes. “The land is failing. Badlands reignite, calderas boil. We’ve lost families and half of our flyers. Our numbers dwindle. We need you.”
