Ronan’s glare narrowed between it and Ford, but his thoughts were on neither. Verena had kept her distance from him for the last twenty-four hours. And no matter how often he scanned the group, he never found her.
His only hope now was that this trip was quick, and at the end of it they would find the lost Nyctom heir hidden quietly away within its borders.
The Bale could be erased; the kingdoms could push forward united and Ronan, well, he could be free.
Though it was not going to be a happy ending for all, whether they found the heir or not.
Ford caught Ronan’s displeased look and wiggled the jerky between them. “Want some?”
Ronan waved a hand in dismissal.
“You don’t have jerky in Ryuu?” Ford asked.
“We are dragons.” Ronan huffed a breath, more smoke than patience, and looked to the woods. “Everything is jerky to us.”
Ford gave him agood pointnod as he handed Gus his inedible meat strip and gestured for a new one. Gus just rolled his eyes, pretending to grab a new piece of jerky, while laughably handing Ford the same strip back.
Ford didn’t notice.
“Are they even real?” Wells questioned, appearing from the back of the group. “The mimics? I’ve heard rumors...”
Two figures emerged from the forest, their black hair catching the rising sun as they led four horses into camp.
Ronan strode toward them as both gave him a tip of their chin. “For those of you who haven’t been introduced—” His voice drew every focus as his hand swept toward the woman first. “This is Inessa.”
She wore only slate leathered pants and a cropped top fashioned from dragon scales that gleamed iridescent in the light. Her glare was dark, holding each individual set of eyes before lingering too far behind the group of bodies.
Ronan’s hand shifted to the man at her side. “And Kanoa.” Her brother.
Scaled armor plated his chest and back, a darker sheen than his sister’s. He regarded the group with the kind of unwavering scrutiny that made you feel, down the immediate snap of your spine, that he was dangerous.
He didn’t blink, not once, not until Inessa’s hand found his. Then, just barely, the edges relaxed.
“They’re captivating,” Ronan said. “And they’ll rip your throat out with their teeth if you get too close. So, my advice—” He let the pause hang, be felt. “Don’t.” Turning, his palm grazed down the white, satin nose of a mare before glancing back to Wells. “Mimics are very real. But not on our radar.” A muscle jumped in his jaw, so subtle it was unnoticed. “You have nothing to fear.”
“Yeah, but—” Ford ripped the jerky forcefully with his teeth, finally gaining himself a small bite. “Couldn’t we still at least siftcloseto the border, save the miles? There must be an easier way.”
The mare snorted and Ronan shushed it, offering her an apple from his sack. “Again,” he grumbled. “We don’t know how far the wards extend. If we guess wrong, we end up dried to crips.” His finger pointed toward Ford’s mouth. “Like your jerky.”
Ford froze mid-bite, staring at the beef strip like it might, in fact, be his future.
Ronan moved to the black stallion beside the mare, running a hand over his strong flank, “Along with that, if Ryuu learns where we are, or what we’re doing, it could put my kingdom in danger.”
A chill, like the brush of death, kissed the back of his neck as her voice slid in. “Your kingdom, or yourself?”
Ronan lifted his head to where the Viper had finally emerged from her den, looking…better. Though, too composed for someone who had been broken days ago.
“Come again?” he asked.
She dropped her arm from Wells’ shoulder, stalking toward the tallest horse, fingers sinking into the stallion’s obsidian mane. “Are you worried about your kingdom finding out for the sake of their lives, or because you don’t want anyone knowing you’re aiding rebels?”
Ronan’s scowl was answer enough as he turned to the others.
A flash of gold breezed in the corner of his eye as Elva smoothed her hands down the front of her new attire.
He almost didn’t recognize the princess, no longer draped in a tattered gown, but clothed in a loose, mauve colored tunic tucked into chestnut leather pants. Her waist was cinched tight in a thick belt that was much too big for her.
“How long is this trip supposed to take?” she asked, eyes darting between him and Verena.
