“Not today,” I whisper. “Not yet.”
“Perhaps in time.” He inclines his head. And then, “One month. Not a day longer. Your panthers will eat fish. You will not set foot on the mainland. Miku will visit you daily to ensure you’re honoring these terms.”
“Agreed.”
“What?” Miku’s soft protest sounds a second after my agreement.
Ryuji’s jaw clenches. He doesn’t reply to her and she quickly resumes her obedient kneeling pose, her expression closing off.
“You have promised me that only dark creatures will die,” Ryuji says to me, and for a moment, his dragon scales shimmer across his skin, as if to emphasize the importance of this part of my promise. “That is our agreement.”
I give him a firm nod. “That is our agreement.”
“Then it is settled.”
The tension releases from my body, and I finally reach for the cup of tea, grateful for how calming it is.
With a soft exhalation that carries the heat of the liquid off my tongue, I ask, “Would you mind if I ask you a question?”
“Go ahead.”
“How did you know we were here?” I keep my voice light, but it’s a loaded question. I need to know where our vulnerabilities are, especially since the keeper was adamant he’d cast a protection spell around the island and I would have thought it would conceal us completely.
Ryuji looks a little smug before his face falls blank again. “Our mermaid allies reported your presence.”
My forehead creases as I consider the possibility that we were being watched the whole time. I purse my lips at my tea, nursing the cup in my hands. “We didn’t see any mermaids.”
“No. And they didn’t see you. But they heard you.”
“They… what?” My cheeks flush.
How much noise did I make last night?
“Dark saints, they should mind their own business,” I snap.
I expect Ryuji to laugh at my discomfort, but his expression remains sober. “Pain can’t be ignored.”
Pain…?
Now I’m even more confused. Until I remember.
I screamed under the waves. I expelled all of my fury and betrayal into that scream. I guess the keeper’s protection spell hadn’t been cast so far as to suppress it.
Damn. It’s my fault these dragons attacked us.
I wipe the regret from my face and whisper, “Well, theyshouldhave ignored it.”
Clearing my throat, I quickly move on before he makes further uncomfortable observations—assuming he would. “I’m curious about how you fly so fast.”
And a little envious, given that I can’t fly at all.
“We’re air dragons.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Aren’t all dragons air dragons?”
“You mean because we have wings?”
“Well, yes.”
