“Then why the bleak eyes?”
I sigh, running both hands through my hair, fisting the strands. “Because I know of another Aeshlian,” I admit, voice low, afraid the wind will carry my words somewhere dangerous. “Afemale.”
He loosens a breath, and I feel his gaze bore into the side of my face. “She evaded the huntings?”
A chill nuzzles between my ribs, burrowing deep, and I catch his bulging stare. Take in his whitewash complexion.
“She spent most of her adolescence on the coast of Ocruth. She’s since traveled south aboard the ship that shot my drake.”
Zykanth flinches, coiling into a knot, and I give him a tender stroke.
“Bahari …”
I nod, and a grim mask of foreboding settles upon Anver’s face.
“Her true self is hidden by a force not of this world, but I’ve seen too much not to worry.” To picture her being strung from a tree. Hacked to pieces.
Burned at the stake.
I clear my throat and avert my stare, shivering.
“My drake is healed now. At some stage, perhaps soon, I may have to risk the waters. I can’t take Vicious with me. If the beast that guards these islands were to hurt her …” I shake my head, teeth gritted as Zykanth unravels, thrashing against my ribs, again, and again, andagain.
Can’t risk it.
Won’t.
“May I ask … how long has she been here?”
I notice Anver watching me closely, the faintest line drawn between his brows. “A while,” he finally says, as though picking the words with caution. “She came to us savage. Didn’t seem to understand right from wrong, or how to communicate. She was just—”
“Vicious,” I finish, and he nods, turning his gaze on the vegetable patch.
“Ailith and Siah are the first young born on this island since The Great Hunt, and your Vicious has grown a special bond with them. But it’s takenyearsof gentle coaxing and cautious gifts to pull her this far into our fold.”
Years …
The word plops into my guts like a rock, confirming my suspicions.
Years … without her tail.
Meaning my beautiful, wild Vicious has a tombstone in her chest in place of the churning, beating life force I couldn’t imagine living without.
Inside me, Zykanth releases a deep lament that rattles my bones and the strings of my heart, and I try to swallow the ball of emotion rising up my throat.
“Perhaps losing her drake hit so hard she let go of her humanity …”
Silence stretches for so long it becomes uncomfortable, and I catch Anver’s gaze. He’s watching me with precision, something roiling behind his crystalline eyes.
He lifts a brow. “You have been ashore too long, old friend.”
The words are heavy, like he’s passing me something sacred.
“What—”
A blur of motion has my attention snapping to the youngest child bounding toward us—giggle chiming, smile beaming, curls bouncing.
“Geil de neh veshta, nav Ashta!” she gushes, clapping her dirty hands, smelling like damp soil and flowers.
