“I’m trying to help you!” she shouted, but Astrylys swayed in the direction of the nest before toppling onto her side. The force of her fall sent Caelian careening backward so she landed hard on her bottom.
“Please,” she begged, struggling to her feet. She staggered toward the fallen dragon. “If you don’t let me help you, you’re going to die.”
She rushed to Astrylys then, grateful when the dragon didn’t thrash, but worried she was likely too weak to defend herself. Pressing the tightly folded bundle of fabric against the deep wound in her chest, Caelian met the torturous blue of the dragon’s eyes. Astrylys blinked, the rough silver skin around her intimidating gaze crinkling, and when her eyes opened, they were filled with maternal devastation. She glanced at the nest, then slowly found Caelian once more. Imploring.
Of course.
Of course.
Astrylys wanted Caelian to save her babies.
“Okay,” she whispered, nodding in understanding. “Okay.”
Caelian scrubbed her hands against the remains of her ruined gown. She rubbed her lips together, grabbed the first gnarled vine, and pulled.
Thorns splintered against the rope-like plant, slicing her palms and fingers, so pinpricks of scarlet bloomed from her skin. But she refused to let the stabbing pain deter her, not when the lives of three baby dragons and their mother were at stake. She snapped the violent vines in half, ripping them from the eggs, and tossed them aside. Whenever she managed to free one egg from the bramble, more erupted from the ground. Sweat beaded along her brow, and she swiped the back of her hand across her forehead, grimacing at the sight.
Blood coated her fingers, dirt collected beneath her nails, and her palms were littered with cuts and scrapes.
Caelian bit her lip to keep from sobbing, to keep from quitting. She continued to tear at the dangerous overgrowth, fighting her way further into the nest to reach the eggs. She grasped one with both hands and yanked hard, pitching herself backward. Thorns ravaged her, puncturing her waist, and a guttural scream pealed from some cavernous part of her soul.
I wish to free them, she pleaded with the stars.I wish to save them, please.
But the magic humming through her veins did not answer.
“I wish for this vile magic to cease!” she screamed, begging the heavens. Her body was trembling now, bleeding and broken. “Please! Please let me help them!”
She sucked in a gasping breath of pungent air.
“I beg of you!” Tears spilled down her cheeks, her chest rising and falling in agony. “Please return my magic to me so I can save them!”
The stars ignored her broken sobs.
Caelian stole a hasty glance over her shoulder and ice flooded her veins. Astrylys lay on the ground, her eyes closed, and thewad of fabric from the gown was completely soaked with blood. Wave after wave of panic slammed into Caelian, making it nearly impossible to focus. Dizzying nausea swept through her, and she staggered forward, throwing her body protectively over the silver egg, the only one she had managed to free.
She couldn’t save them all. Not the eggs and the dragon. Not by herself.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Caelian focused the dwindling remains of her energy into the singular bond she shared with one other soul.
Her twin.
Creslyn.
She repeated her sister’s name over and over again in her mind. Envisioned her. Imagined her. With every passing second, she hoped Creslyn would hear her call, prayed the stars would finally listen, would finally answer, and send someone to help her.
As the world around her began to fade into nothingness and her vision blurred into a sea of black, in the far-off distance, someone yelled Caelian’s name.
But it was not Creslyn who came to her rescue.
It was Kjeld.
CHAPTER EIGHT
When Caelian’s scream shattered the howling wind, Kjeld’s heart dropped.
Never in his life had he heard such a harrowing sound, and to know it came from Caelian gave him all the more reason to push himself beyond measure to reach her. He sprinted up the mountain, following that seemingly invisible thread of starlight that somehow always led him to her, cursing himself for not running after her sooner. Power pumped through his veins, heaving him up the mountainside. He leapt over fallen rocks, his boots pummeling the cold stone earth as the bitter wind smacked his face. The metallic tang of blood and the reek of something putrid clung to the air. In his soul, he knew the dragons would never harm her, yet why the tug of her aura led him into the nesting cave of Astrylys, he couldn’t be sure.
There would be time for that answer later, he thought, and raced through the maze-like cave within the mountain. But right now…
