Page 27 of Ash and Burn

Arvid.

Her fear flooded his senses, followed immediately by a rage so fierce it made his dragon roar inside his chest. Something was wrong. Something was happening to her and the bond pulled him forward with magnetic intensity toward the market.

Then Calix ran. Citizens scattered from his path as he sprinted through Ashvorn's winding streets, following the invisible thread that connected him to his mate. Her scent hit him first—lilies and rain now laced with adrenaline and sweat. Then he heard the sounds of combat echoing from the shadows between buildings at the market's edge, away from the crowd.

But what he saw made his blood turn to molten fire.

Three male dragon shifters in human form surrounded Arvid and Tal in the narrow alley between buildings. Rogues. Calix didn't recognize any of them, which meant they weren't from Ashvorn. Arvid moved like liquid violence, her military training evident in every precise strike she landed. Her fist connected with one attacker's jaw with a crack that echoed off the stone walls. Tal fought beside her with warrior efficiency, but they were outnumbered.

Then the rogues began to shift. Bones cracked and reformed. Skin rippled as scales emerged. Wings unfurled with deadly grace as three dragons materialized where men had stood moments before. The alley suddenly felt impossibly small, filled with snarling beasts whose intentions were clearly lethal.

"Arvid, run!" Tal shouted, backing toward his own shift.

Calix didn't hesitate. His dragon surged to the surface with fifteen years of protective instinct and territorial fury. The transformation tore through him—bones elongating, muscles expanding, scales erupting across his skin as his massive red dragon emerged. Within seconds, his wingspan blocked the narrow space between buildings as he landed with earth-shaking force.

Tal's lean steel-grey dragon rose beside him, his copper eyes blazing with determination. Together they faced the three rogues who had dared threaten this territory. More importantly, who had dared threaten his mate.

The first rogue dragon—mottled brown scales and yellowed teeth—lunged at Calix with claws extended. Calix met the attack head-on, his superior size and royal bloodline evident as he drove the smaller dragon back with bone-crushing force. His black-cored fire erupted from his throat, the rare white-hot outer flames searing the air between them.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Arvid pressed against a building, her dark eyes tracking every movement of the aerial battle above her. She wasn't cowering. She was analyzing, watching for opportunities to help or threats to avoid. Even now, she refused to be merely rescued.

Fierce, brave woman.

Tal engaged the second rogue while Calix focused on his opponent and the third dragon circling above. The brown-scaled rogue was fast but undisciplined, all aggression without strategy. Calix used his experience and training to his advantage, forcing the rogue into position before striking with precision. His claws raked across the smaller dragon's flank, drawing blood and a shriek of pain.

The third rogue dove toward Tal, attempting to overwhelm the younger dragon through numbers. Calix wouldn't allow it. He intercepted the attack with a roar that shook dust from the surrounding buildings, his massive frame colliding with the diving dragon in mid-air.

Protect. Defend. Drive them away.

His dragon's instincts sang with purpose as he fought. Not just for Ashvorn or duty, but for the woman watching from below whose safety mattered more than his own life.

The rogues were skilled but not suicidal. After several minutes of brutal combat that left all participants bloodied and battered, they recognized they were outmatched. The brown-scaled dragon Calix had been fighting retreated first, wings beating frantically as it gained altitude. The other two followed, disappearing over Ashvorn's rooftops with vengeful cries echoing behind them.

Calix and Tal landed heavily in the alley, both immediately shifting back to human form, and soon standing there naked and battered. Blood streaked Calix's shoulder and chest from claw marks that stung but weren't serious. But Tal clutched his ribs where deeper gouges painted his skin crimson.

Arvid ran toward them without hesitation, her clinical gaze assessing their injuries with professional detachment that ignored their nudity entirely. Her hands moved over Calix's wounds first, checking for serious damage with gentle efficiency that made his chest tight with emotion.

"You're both lucky," Arvid said, her voice carrying relief. "Fighting three dragons in an enclosed space could've got you both killed."

Calix reached for his shredded clothes, pulling on what remained of his pants before helping Tal with his own tattered garments. The younger dragon's injury was clearly worse—the gashes along his ribs would need immediate medical attention.

A crowd had begun gathering at the alley's mouth, drawn by the sounds of dragon combat in their peaceful market district. Calix's authoritative voice cut through their murmurs.

"Return to your homes. Stay inside until further notice."

They dispersed quickly, trust in their king's judgment overriding curiosity.

"We need to get Tal to the medical building," Arvid said, supporting the wounded dragon's weight as they moved toward the street. "Those cuts are deep."

Calix moved to Tal's other side, helping bear his escort's weight. "What happened? Who were they?"

"No idea," Arvid replied, her tone clipped with residual adrenaline. "One minute we were walking toward the market, the next we were under attack. Three guys just came out of nowhere."

"We had it handled until they shifted," Tal added through gritted teeth.

Arvid shot Calix a look. "How did you know we were in trouble?" she asked as they navigated the streets toward the medical building.

The mate bond hummed between them, carrying echoes of her earlier terror and his protective fury. But she couldn't feel what he felt, couldn't understand the connection that had drawn him to her side like a magnetic pull.