Page 17 of Mad Dragon of Chaos

Tyche’s brow furrowed as he gazed at Caelan. “You had more dragons in Stormbreak than Drayce?”

Caelan grunted. “When Nori reached out to me about Haru, I told him that Drayce and I would come immediately. In response, he sent a pair of dragons to Stormbreak in the event that there was an emergency and someone needed to reach me. There must be a serious problem if they’re returning.”

“Scouts say there are two riders on one of them,” Shey stated.

Caelan nodded. “That’s Rayne and Eno. Rayne hates flying, and he won’t ride alone. Let’s go meet them.”

Tyche’s stomach sank into his shoes. Not only did he not know what his future held, but he was about to meet the man who seemed to own Shey’s heart.

Great.

Just fucking great.

SIX

SHEY THRUDESH-VO

Shey’s heart hammered as he waited with Caelan, Tyche, and several other dragons in the main courtyard for the approaching dragons and riders. Drayce even appeared from inside, but Haru and Adrian were absent. Shey assumed they were still in bed sleeping.

Shey’s growing nerves weren’t just about seeing Rayne for the first time since he’d missed his friend’s wedding. There was also the reason Rayne was coming to the Isle of Stone. Things must be dire if the king’s advisor had left his post at the Erya capital to come inform the king personally of some development.

It had to be Damardor. Something must have developed in Bellcairn after their departure more than two weeks ago. Buildings destroyed. A rampaging dragon. Numerous dead thanks to Cirina’s powers. The government—no matter how much it was in a state of disarray—had to do something about it. Issue a statement at least.

When they’d reached Sirelis, there’d been some rumblings and whispers about going to war, but nothing concrete. Yet, Shey hadn’t stopped. They’d had to reach Haru as quickly as possible.

The wind stirred, rustling tree branches, while the clear blue sky took on extra clouds as if a storm was approaching. Shey closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He held it while concentrating on tamping down his emotions. If there were a storm coming, it would have nothing to do with his uneasy emotional state and his hold on the powers from the God of Storms. It would just be a normal storm.

Upon opening his eyes, he spotted a couple of dark figures soaring across the sky. With each passing second, they grew larger until Shey could make out their massive wings and glittering scales against the blue sky. One dragon had two riders positioned on its back, while the other had none, acting as protection for the first dragon.

One corner of Shey’s mouth lifted as the dragons landed. Eno had his arms wrapped around Rayne while Rayne sat rigid with his eyes squeezed shut. He’d not seen it much himself, but he’d heard from several people that Rayne had discovered a fear of flying and heights when the dragons had come into his life. Unfortunately, communication between the Isle of Stone and the rest of the world was still developing, and the fastest way to travel from Stormbreak to the Omari Clan was by dragon.

With a broad sweep of wings, the dragons landed. The one without riders shifted into her human form. Warm red-and-gold scales glittered in the sunlight as the massive dragon lay flat on the ground. The woman hurried to assist the two riders as they scrambled to the ground. Caelan also jogged up and was lending a hand to help Rayne.

“Okay, yeah. I get it,” Tyche grumbled. Shey looked at the shorter redhead, who wore a very disgruntled expression. Tyche had crossed his arms over his chest and was frowning at Rayne and Eno. “He’s attractive in a slender, busybody kind of way, with fussy hair and a big nose.”

Shey choked on a laugh. Fussy hair? Big nose? He’d always thought Rayne had an elegant patrician nose, but yes, it was larger than Tyche’s more delicate nose.

“Ugh. And tall? Of course he’s tall.”

There was no denying that. Rayne was tall. He was the same height as Shey, which put him six inches taller than Tyche.

With a low chuckle, Shey tossed an arm across Tyche’s slumped shoulders as he was turning to leave and pulled him close enough to bump into Shey. “So, he’s tall and good-looking? He’s also bossy as hell and a total know-it-all.”

From the corner of his eye, he watched as Tyche stared up at him, a skeptical expression on his face. A lock of bright-red hair tumbled down to hang in front of his eyes. Shey couldn’t resist reaching out a hand to move it aside.

“I thought you were into the bossy types?”

As Shey gasped, Tyche cackled, tossing his head back so that all his red hair caught the sunlight and became a blaze of fire against his pale skin. Shey pinched Tyche’s arm, but that only made the God of Luck laugh harder.

“You!”

Shey’s head shot up at that single angry, ragged word. Rayne was glaring at him, seeming more than a little unsteady on his feet. He adjusted the glasses on his nose and pointed at Shey with a trembling finger. He pulled away from where Eno was steadying him and stomped across the courtyard while the dragon who had been carrying them shifted into his human form.

“You missed my wedding and didn’t even bother to send a note,” Rayne accused as he marched over. Shey winced. He was half tempted to thrust Tyche between them as a shield, but he couldn’t. Rayne had every right to be angry. Shey had claimed that they were friends, and he should have been there for his friend’s most important day. At the very least, he should have called or sent some kind of letter trying to explain. But he’d taken the coward’s way out.

Rayne straightened to his full height and tipped his head so he could stare down at Shey along the length of his nose, which almost made Shey giggle after Tyche’s comments. Despite his efforts to appear composed, Shey didn’t miss that Rayne’s pallor was still a mix of gray and green from his flight across the ocean on dragon back. His hair was windblown, and even his clothes were more than a little rumpled, but none of that mattered. Rayne still looked pulled together and in control. His training was too ingrained.

“I would punch you, but then I would have to move on and forgive you. I’m not ready to forgive you yet. We expect a gift. Crystal. Expensive. And get Fiona to pick it out. Your taste is atrocious.” Each word shot at Shey was crisp and sharp, as cutting as a dagger.