Something tight twisted in my chest, something that had nothing to do with the cold. It was the same feeling I’d had watching the twins take their first breaths. Hope mixed with fear. Joy shadowed by responsibility.
Speaking of drakens,Varun said, turning toward me again,one of my scouts told me you had additions.
My breath puffed out in a cloud. “Yes, but not quite yet. Wren, Queen Wren, is due to give birth any day now.”
For a heartbeat, the frozen forest fell utterly still; even the wind seemed to pause.
Varun’s smile broke fully now, bright enough to rival firelight.
Good,Varun said warmly.Very good. You do not understand what this means for all of us. The drakens were not merely soldiers. They were balance. Pillars. Anchors in the ley lines.He shook his furry head.Send word once the child is born. We would like to honor the arrival.
I blinked. “Varun—you don’t have to?—”
Oh, I do,he said.Be prepared. There will be gifts. Offerings. Tributes. Every magickal race in these lands will want to bless the first new full-blooded draken born since the fall.His smile sharpened.
I swallowed. Hard.
“You honor us,” I whispered.
It is your birthright,Varun corrected.Do not forget that again.
His gaze drifted to Canavar and Nasi.
And you two,Varun said.If you are truly drakens of Lyoness, then know this: the lykoses owe your kind blood-debts and lifetimes of loyalty. If you stand with Lyoness, Lyoness will never fall.
Canavar dipped his head. “We stand.”
Nasi added quietly, “And we will bring the little one home.”
Varun nodded once, satisfied.Then go. I’ll alert the northern clans. May the winds guide you cleanly.
With that, he bounded off into the snow, massive, white-furred, and regal—vanishing like a ghost, leaving the three of us standing alone beneath the frozen pines, united only by cold breath, a missing child, and a promise that none of us intended to break.
“Let’s find her,” I whispered.
Canavar’s wings spread wide. “Lead the way, sun-dragon.”
I gave him a playful shove at the mock insult, and for a moment, it felt like Kieran and Benedict were next to me, flying and laughing.
Brotherhood was important. It was good.
We launched into the sky again toward Veskor, toward Perri, and toward whatever waited in the far northern mountains.
Chapter Eighteen
VESKOR
The farther north I traveled, the better I could breathe. I did not think the other drakens had followed. Drakens weren’t used to the cold.
The air here was honest: sharp, cold, unsoftened by salt or humidity or the stench of too many beating hearts. The world narrowed to snow, stone, and wind. It was simple, just like fighting in the pits had been simple.
Survive.
“SNOW! It’s cold!” she said.
I tried to ignore her chatter. It was hard, because it never stopped.
“Your toes are gone!” she trilled.
