Before I can follow Ryuji, the keeper tucks his wings into his sides and drops to the rocks beside me, his firm hand wrapping around my arm.
His voice is incredibly hushed, barely audible. “You’re in pain.”
My shoulders hunch. “I didn’t want you to see these…thingson my back…”
He catches my chin in his hand, urging me to look up at him. “My Veda, I’ve known about your wings since you first gave me the power in your heart. They’re a part of you. As strong as your mind and your need for vengeance. If you have trouble embracing them, I will help you.”
His gaze passes from my face to my feathers, his lips parting, his eyes soft. “They are as beautifully dangerous as you are.”
My eyes are slowly widening. “But they’re useless.”
A smile lifts his lips and a gleam enters his eyes. “Far from it.”
His hands lower to the sides of my neck and then my shoulders, kneading the muscles, releasing the tense knots. His voice whispers in my ear as he leans in close. “But right now, you need to retract them?—”
“I can’t?—”
“Youcan.” His lips brush mine, a heated distraction as his fingertips curl around the back of my shoulders and a glimmer of dark light flickers at the edge of my vision.
My muscles relax under his power and my wings finally pull inward, folding back against my spine before fully retracting.
I smother my groan of relief against his lips.
Anarchy and the two panthers are waiting for us nearby while Lucian has dropped to the sand closer to the dragons. It’s clear he doesn’t trust them an inch, as he retains his battle stance.
In the distance, Ryuji is now speaking with the other dragons, none of whom look terribly happy.
I pick up Ryuji’s order for them to “tend to the wounded” before half of them lift into the air and head toward their fallen comrades. The other half fly toward the training hall and take up position around it, just like I expected.
Anarchy edges toward me at that moment and the keeper moves aside for her.
“We have a problem,” she whispers.
“My wings?—”
“No, nothing to do with you. Your wings are fucking beautiful.” She places her hand on my arm, a reassuring touch followed by a grimace. “It’s Riot.”
But of course… Only Rumble and Strife are here with us. The last time I saw Riot, he was tumbling across the beach with that teal-haired dragon.
The airwhooshesout of my chest. “Dark saints, what’s happened?”
My imagination is suddenly going wild. None of the other dragon shifters were killed in the fight, but if that woman is hurt or dead, I’m certain it will break our fragile truce.
“You need to come and see.”
I hurry after Anarchy, the keeper on our heels, and we collect the panthers and Lucian on our way.
Farther along the beach, Ryuji watches us carefully, becoming visibly tense when Anarchy veers toward the trees to our left—a good hundred paces before we would have reached the training hall.
The keeper, Lucian, and the panthers break off and stop like guards on the beach, which is good because they’ll be fully visible to Ryuji, so at least he won’t assume we’re all angling for some kind of surprise attack.
Anarchy pulls me along a narrow path into the trees and my throat is tight as we step into a little, circular clearing with stone benches around its edges.
In the middle of the mossy space, lying on her back with her wings spread out on either side of her, is the teal-haired dragon.
Stretched out on top of her as if she’s a comfortable lounge chair is Riot.
He’s licking one of his front paws and paying particular attention to his very sharp, silver claws.
