"If you think I am abandoning my duty to protect her, you are sorely mistaken," he hisses at my cousin.
Thrane smirks, as if he's already won the war without lifting a finger. "Fine. I'll indulge your nonsensical thought process for a moment.Ifyou were permitted to accompany us and offer unnecessary protection for Aurelia, how exactly do you plan to keep up with dragon riders?"
Nyx, not to be outdone or outsmarted by Thrane, folds his hands over his chest and grins. "I will use one of those giant birds. Problem solved."
Thrane scoffs as my mother rests her hand atop Nyx's shoulder.
"As admirable as your commitment is, Nyx, theAviatascannot keep up with dragons. And they are not conditioned for the harsher conditions lying further north."
"Then I will ride with one of you." Nyx shoots Thrane a menacing smile. "Perhaps His Lordship would like a partner."
"As amusing as you are, Harland, dragons will only carry one rider. And you are not a rider."
A crashing commotion from Drexel's pen draws our attention. The dragon will not be ignored a moment longer. He uses his snout to smash against the wooden beams and snow seeps in through the cracks developing in the roof.
"He's going to destroy the entire building!" My focus darts down the hall to Seraxes' pen. A protectiveness floods me, but I know Seraxes would escape before I had a chance to make it to her pen if something did go wrong.
"I've never seen a dragon act this way before," my mother whispers. I'm not certain if she's in awe or riddled with horror upon seeing the demise of the dragon.
I grab her hand. "We have to do something, or we'll be buried beneath this building."
She nods before ordering the stableboys, "Get the other dragons out."
Immediately, everyone moves in different directions. It's simply chaos. Drexel slams his body against the wall and the structure groans. We have to get out of here before it's too late. When I turn to grab Nyx, he's no longer by my side.
"Nyx?" I whip around, twisting in each direction to find him. It's then I notice him approaching Drexels' pen. "Nyx!"
Nyx ignores my cries, determined to get closer to the distressed creature. Suddenly, the beast stills, his eyes fixed on Nyx. He bares his sharp teeth and an icy blast shoots from his nostrils, but it doesn't deter the Tronovian. Nyx lifts his hand, palm out, and reaches for Drexel's snout.
"Nyx, don't!" I shout, alerting Thrane and my mother of the situation, but it's too late. We're not close enough to help Nyx, even if we wanted to.
Nyx presses his hand to Drexel's scales and my heart lurches in my chest. I'm about to watch him die. How would I explain this to the others?
But to my surprise, the moment Nyx touches the dragon, the creature stills.
"You're all right, Drexel," Nyx soothes him. His voice is steady and low as he strokes Drexel's snout with assured hands. "You're all right."
The rest of us watch in awe, and dare I say, confusion, as Nyx pets the beast until he settles down and lays in his pen. His eyelids are heavy and once he lays down, he shuts his eyes and rests for the first time in a week.
Nyx's eyes widen when he turns to find us all gawking at him. "Why is everyone staring at me?"
"How did you do that?" My mother is the first to find her voice.
"Do what?" Nyx asks.
"Drexel permitted you to touch him." Thrane clasps his hands behind his back, narrowing his gaze at a now-slumbering Drexel before focusing on Nyx.
Nyx shrugs. "I have always had a way with animals."
"We are not comparing domesticated cats and dogs to Frost Dragons. By all accounts, Drexel should have – at the very least – bit your hand off for touching him." Thrane presses.
"I didn't see you doing anything to help," Nyx's shoulders tense.
"There's no need to get snippy, Nyx," I attempt to calm him down. He's got the appearance of a cornered animal and I'm afraid he's going to snap.
"What compelled you to approach him?" My mother asks, curiosity ripe in her tone. She's not angry, not disappointed.She's genuinely taken aback by what just happened, and quite frankly, so am I. Seraxes wouldn't let me near her and certainly gave me all the signs not to touch her. But Drexel, in his ornery state, permitted a non-Basilius to touch him.
"It's stupid," Nyx deflects, rubbing a hand against his jaw.
