Minutes stretch. In the darkness, time loses meaning, with only the shallow breaths of an unconscious woman to keep me company. An hour has passed, I think. Or more.
Then the rush of wings and a burst of wind hit.
Feet scrape softly against stone, and Kelan and Ronyn appear, arms full. They carry a water barrel, clothes, blankets, furs, a large, rolled mattress, and plastic sheeting. They place everything down and return to the mouth of the cave to collect bags of food, some still warm and deliciously scented, and a copper basin and jug. Dragons can carry a lot when they need to.
They’ve brought everything we could need for tonight and maybe days beyond.
Kelan’s face is a mask of worry as he gazes at our mate. Ronyn too. She’s warmer now, and her lips have turned a pretty shade of pink. Her cheeks have a slight flush, and her breathing is a little deeper. Relief floods through our connection.
Whatever comes next, this woman is ours now.
And our goddess-given task to contain magic is suddenly not our top priority.
5
KELAN
Being alpha means bearing the cost of every failure, whether the fault is yours or not. I’m burdened by that weight now, crushing, and absolute, as Darial surrenders the woman in his arms to me. Our mate looks impossibly small cradled against my huge body, and flops limply with exhaustion. I know, deep in the marrow of my bones, that the world had been cruel to her—for a very long time. The dragon inside me coils tightly, furious, and barely restrained, a storm held behind my ribs by will alone.
This is my failure.
Our mate has been struggling in the world, fighting for her survival, and I didn’t know. How can this have happened? If I had known she was human and tried harder to look for her, she would never have been forced to survive like this. She would never have been hunted or starved or forced to push herself to the brink of death to remain free.
Darial kneels beside me, his movements uncharacteristically subdued. His golden hair is pulled backfrom his face, his expression stripped bare of charm and pretense. He reaches for her tangled mass of red hair with reverence.
“We should clean her,” he says softly. “She deserves dignity.”
I nod, easing her from my hold to allow him access, though every instinct screams to keep her pressed to my chest.
Ronyn fills the copper basin with water and sheds his human skin, the shift rolling through him in a rush of heat and muscle, scales blooming along his arms and shoulders, fire gathering beneath his breastbone. He breathes fire to heat the water, careful to remain controlled. Then he turns his fire to the corners of the cave, warming the air enough to protect our mate from any chill.
Darial works with a gentleness that I’ve never seen from him, using a washcloth, warm water, and slow hands to clean the filth from her feet and legs. He wipes the dirt from her skin, the blood from shallow scratches, carefully avoiding the scars at her throat that draw a snarl from Ronyn when he notices them. Her ragged clothes are removed, and towels are placed with deliberate care, concealing her breasts and between her thighs, preserving modesty even though we have all seen naked bodies countless times.
This is different, though.
This isour mate.
Darial murmurs to her as he works, his voice low and calm as he washes her hair coaxing knots loose with patient fingers, treating each filthy snarl like a puzzle that must be solved with tenderness.
“She’s beautiful,” he murmurs, as if afraid the wordmight startle her awake.
“She’s fragile,” Ronyn answers, his eyes still burning despite his shift almost back to his human form. “I don’t like it.”
I understand him completely.
The kind of magic that called to us should belong to someone more substantial, and our mate should be a dragon embodying the strength that can tame and handle three monstrous mates.
I touch her clean cheek and bend to inhale the scent of her skin. My head swims with her rightness, and powerful urges swell inside me.Protect. Mate. Breed.
But how can we breed with a human who is more bones than flesh? Reptiles and mammals can’t fuse. Where is the dragon mate we were promised?
Even as I think it, I cannot be disappointed. We haven't seen a female dragon since the last battle wiped out most of our kind. Even before that, no dragon children had been born for centuries. It is a curse we have learned to live with, in the same way we have lived without our mate.
Now, I sense the goddess's blessing through our mate’s closeness. She is human and yet… she wielded the powerful magic, even in this diminished form. She survived despite all the tribulations she’s faced. Maybe she’s stronger than we’re giving her credit for.
Maybe she has what it takes to be ours.
When Darial has completed her ablutions, Ronyn partially shifts again so he can exhale enough heat to dry her hair gently. Dragon’s breath is meant to encourage hatchlings, and unconscious, she seems as fragile as one.
