She squared her shoulders and shook her head. “He told me to stay away from the female. He doesn’t want any of us drawing attention to her.”
My chest pinched, and I dragged a hand through my hair. “I don’t like this.”
“Neither do I.”
Elias didn’t rattle easily. Whatever had driven him to leave so suddenly was no small thing.
“Brenton?” Finley’s voice carried from the tent and through the night. Soft, but she pulled me like a tether.
“Go to your mate,” Everly urged. “I’ll take down Elias’s tent.”
“What of the human female?” I shot a glance at where Elias had vanished.
“We leave her alone,” Everly said. “We trust Elias to handle whatever is going on.”
I shook my head, not comfortable with the idea, but I trusted Elias. Quietly, I went back inside my tent.
Finley sat on the edge of our shared bed mat. My shirt hung loose on her while her hair fell over her shoulders.
Her eyes searched mine. “What’s wrong?”
I crouched beside her, keeping my voice quiet. “Elias left. He said Teddy and the younglings are safe, but he couldn’t tell me more. Just that this was a precaution.”
Her brows drew together. “Precaution against what?”
“I don’t know, but that’s not like him.”
A muscle along her jaw ticked. “Did he seem commanded? Or was it of his choosing?”
“He was choosing,” I said. “But he was rattled.”
Her hand reached for my neck but stilled. “What do we do?”
Heavy silence stretched between us. My gaze flicked toward the tent flap. Beyond it. Toward a realm we barely understood.
Instinct clawed at me. To stand watch. Check the perimeter. Post shifts.
We were in dragon territory, under the command of humans we didn’t know. Elias left without explanation.
And I was sitting here, distracted.
Finley shifted closer. “There is nothing we can do from here,” she said quietly. “If something is unfolding, our king will handle it.”
“And if he cannot?”
“Then he’ll call for us.”
With a jerky nod, I exhaled slowly.
She climbed onto my lap. Not to tempt or tease, but to comfort me. Her weight settled against me, her fingers drifting to the nape of my neck, combing slowly through the ends of my hair. With the steady rhythm of her presence, she dulled a bit of the storm in my head.
I forced myself to remain alert, listening past the canvas walls for any disturbance. Any shift in the wind.
My body stayed coiled.
“You’re still half gone,” she whispered.
“I should be outside. Look out for danger, guard the perimeter.” Something. Anything.
