Behind him, Lucian is streaking across the air toward me while Anarchy and two of the panthers are running across the beach below him. They reach me within heartbeats and, even though five dragon shifters are on their tail, they all pull to a stop in the middle of the outcrop, their focus entirely on me.
My breathing is ragged, and my cheeks are burning.
My awful wings are on display and there’s a storm of humiliation within me. I try to retract them, but I can’t seem to make them do anything I want.
I wanted to choose when I revealed them.
I needed to control that moment.
Now that choice has been taken away from me.
With every passing second, the damned things grow heavier across my back, a weight on my soul.
“Darkness?” Anarchy asks, surging forward until she collides with the keeper’s suddenly outstretched arm, snarling at him when he holds her back.
Only Lucian doesn’t look surprised since he’s seen my wings before. His lips are pursed and he glances at Anarchy and the keeper as if he doesn’t quite understand their reactions. He probably thought they knew about my wings already.
Growls rise to my lips and my claws finally snap out.
“Keep the other dragons away from me,” I say, unable to meet their eyes. “Ryuji and I have some things to sort out. One alpha to another.”
Three of the dragon shifters from the beach have reached us, but both the keeper and Lucian shoot up into the air while Anarchy, Rumble, and Strife take up position like a wall, all of them blocking the way.
“Hold your positions!” Ryuji shouts to them and I don’t miss their raised eyebrows and pursed lips. “Do not approach.”
Despite their visible concern, they obey him without question, retreating to land on the rocks closer to the beach, where they watch us with angry eyes.
It isn’t lost on me that Ryuji could take flight at any time, gather up his fallen family members, and leave. He’d have to move fast, but that seems to be a particular skill he and his pack possess.
Yet he doesn’t show any signs of doing that. No spreading wings. No bent knees as if he’s about to take off.
The only question in my mind is whether or not I’ll attempt to take the choice of flight away from him.
“I could shred your wings,” I say.
“You could try,” he replies.
I haven’t forgotten the golden bands he used to subdue me, both of which are back on his wrists and once again masquerading as pieces of jewelry.
“I could pierce your heart,” I say.
Again, he replies, “You could try.”
“Why did you catch me when you said you’d kill me?”
“I changed my mind.”
I huff. “Youchanged your mind?” I pace back and forth, feeling like a caged animal. Every instinct in my dark soul is telling me to strike, but I’m sure he has something up his sleeve and I’m not reckless enough to abandon all caution. “Why?”
“Because I need answers.”
“Why did you suddenly need answers?” I ask, although I suspect I know the answer.
“Because a wolf with wings is unheard of. And trust me when I tell you, we’ve heard of everything.”
“So you’re still going to kill me. You just want to satisfy your curiosity first.”
He inclines his head. “It depends. Why are you here?”
