Devoted to the Dragon (The Last Shifters #1)

40. Fennik

Chapter 40

Fennik

G unnar’s expression is pure terror, his eyes wild. Knox lies limp in his arms. The serpent is gaunt, his face a map of crawling lines that scream sickness.

Fuck. Maybe we’re too late. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with Knox, but our best bet is to get him across that line right now.

I join Gunnar, hand on his back, ushering him to the border. I already tried to get to her once. After she flew us here, she seemed calmer. She built her nest and finally seemed satisfied. I left the nest briefly because she asked me to find the bag of memory stones Knox gave her.

The moment I heard her fiery roar, I was scrambling, pleading for her to let me in. When I tried to cross, my arm got burned, but it isn’t a regular fire. It’s icy, filled with numbing magic.

“Cross together like she said,” I command, keeping Gunnar tucked against me. “All three of us.”

He nods, and we move on my count. The fire stings, splinters of ice digging into my skin. We crash into an invisible barrier, the magic exploding and sending us against the cavern wall. It takes me a moment to right myself. When I do, it feels as though the world is spinning.

Gunnar’s hair is full of ice crystals, and his arms are burned, but Knox remains cradled to his chest. “I don’t get it. All three mates are here.” He looks at me, eyes pleading to make it right. “Why can’t we cross? We have her marks.”

“It’s a magical boundary. Remember she told us her dragon would offer a challenge? This must be it.” I help Gunnar up on shaky feet, checking him over and offering to take Knox.

“I’ve got him.” He’s adamant, jaw tight, pushing past me into the outer chamber.

One last glance at our dragon tells me she wants me to follow. She nudges her snout toward the door, wings flapping insistently.

“We’ll take care of him,” I promise, following Gunnar. If it doesn’t simply take our three claw marks to get us inside, maybe it has something to do with the state of Knox. “You found him like that?”

How could he be so sick in less than twenty-four hours? Was he poisoned? Attacked? I think through options, trying to find my way around the obvious answer.

My pup nods, hands trembling as he lays the serpent on the wooden table. “He was in the nest.” He looks at me, eyes full of remorse and voice shaking. “I’m sorry… I should?—”

I grab his neck, digging my thumb to apply enough pressure to quiet some of his panic. “No. You did good, pup, and we’re not playing the blame game.”

His forehead falls to mine, and he takes a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. I’m getting my shit together.”

I squeeze his neck once more in reassurance before starting in on my questions. “Did you see anything? Any vials or?—”

“No. Just her nest. The lake was quiet—like, freaky quiet.”

“Get Vandera on the phone, put her on speaker. Tell her what you know,” I direct, looking over Knox and trying to find a bite mark or injury. The serpent is too cold.

Using my claw, I shred his shirt, wincing when I see the state of his rune. This is the source of the sickness. My gut sinks, following that thought to its end. I was hoping it was anything other than this.

I hear Gunnar explaining to Vandera, but I cut in. “It’s his mating rune. It’s diseased. That’s what is making him sick.”

Vandera curses. “It sounds like a rejection of the mating bond. Where is Randi? Is she sick?”

“She’s her dragon , and her nest is booby-trapped,” Gunnar says, peering back into the other room. “Currently, she’s not hissing or breathing fire at anyone.”

“Well, damn.”

“No shit,” Gunnar mumbles.

“What happens to him will affect her?” I ask, my eyes unable to leave the rune.

It should be glowing when he’s so near his mate. It’s faded, as though all the color has leaked out. The skin around the rune has turned purple and black. The deep bruising spreads down his chest. I don’t need Vandera to tell me this is a broken heart.

She takes a moment. “I’ve only read about bond sickness with rejected mates, but it’s not good. The closer you can get them physically, the better.” The sound of papers rustling lets me know she’s searching for answers. “Has her dragon said anything? Started to change colors? Has her scent deepened?”

“Yes, all of that,” Gunnar says, pacing behind me. He won’t look at the serpent. His eyes are anywhere but on Knox, and his scent reeks of guilt.

“What exactly did she say?” Vandera’s voice perks up.

“She said all three of us have to cross her super-freaky fire-ice wall before the full moon,” Gunnar blurts.

“That was exactly what she said?” Vandera asks, her tone insistent.

“More or less,” Gunnar mumbles under his breath.

“Randi’s exact words were something like, ‘Three contenders. One horde.’ I think it means all her mates,” I answer.

Vandera sighs, the sound heavy. “I think she means what she said .”

The witch’s voice is full of sharp double-speak. She knows something.

“What am I missing?” I beg, no shame or pride left.

She hesitates. “I only have guesses.”

“Did you not hear the part about a magical wall-blaster, Vandera? Your guesses are better than ours. Help us!” Gunnar growls.

“This must be the final part of bonding, and there’s no magic to help you but your own. She needs you to finish her awakening. Just remember that Randi is behind all the magic. You know her. Give her what she needs. I don’t think her dragon would offer a challenge you can’t pass.”

“Super cryptic,” Gunnar grumbles, hanging up on her and tossing the phone aside with too much force. He looks at me. “We can’t get across if he’s like this.”

I nod, gathering the serpent in my arms. He’s still too cold, so I bring him back into the nest and lie with him by the rug in the sitting area. I take off my shirt, signaling for Gunnar to join me. “He needs body heat, and maybe the contact with us will help. The last time I saw him, he needed to feed.”

Gunnar cuts his eyes at me. “What the hell?”

“Get over here,” I growl.

“What do you mean he fed? Like a bloodsucker?” Despite his unease, Gunnar shucks his shirt and lights a fire in the fireplace to combat the room's icy chill before awkwardly lying by the serpent’s side.

I sandwich the serpent between us. “It didn’t feel like anything. His shadows just swirled in the air.”

I cover the three of us with the only blanket not in the nest and prop my head on my arm so I can keep an eye on our dragon. She hovers at the line, agitated and whining, her eyes on the serpent.

I lie there guessing what we could do to get across as we warm up Knox. It feels like it could be anything. Do we offer a sacrifice? Maybe we each need to bring something to the fire? I’ve known her for decades, but I feel like an idiot because I have no fucking idea.

“I’m sorry my head wasn’t on right about Knox,” Gunnar murmurs, voice muffled into the serpent’s side. “I’m jealous, which is stupid, and I’m working on it.”

I kiss the top of Gunnar’s head and weave my fingers with his over the serpent’s chest. “Packs are made so that everyone balances one another. You don’t think of me as competition.”

“Because you’re not. You’re my alpha too,” he says gruffly. He’s quiet for a moment. “Knox makes my wolf nervous. I know I need to get over it, but it’s like he came and everything turned to shit. Randi is sad—like, really sad. I hate it.”

Since he showed up, she has been sad, her scent reeking of grief and loss. But she’s working through it, and even if it’s full of tears, I think it’s progress. “She’s been sad a long time, pup. Maybe that’s what he gives her.”

“Sadness? That’s what you’re going with?” He sits up, pulling away so he can eye me.

My lips quirk at his snark. “Yes, smartass. Maybe his presence is helping her grieve and hopefully find peace.”

Gunnar’s eyes soften. “Yeah, okay. I like your version.”

I purr, my wolf wanting to give us all comfort. Gunnar settles back down, twisting to look at the fire.

Growing up in a pack means I’ve seen how mate bonds work up close. My family pack was healthy; their triad was fated. I was the youngest of three large litters, and my parents were elders when they passed. But Gunnar didn’t have that. He’s only ever had to fight his way. It makes sense to me that he fears the unknown—and Knox—because he craves stability.Just the same way it makes sense to me why Randi is so leery to trust. Knox’s presence has just brought to the surface what was already there.

“Adding another mate to make a horde won’t change the foundations of how the three of us work, pup. He’s her mate, but so are you. We don’t stand a chance if all we do is blame Knox,” I explain gently, rubbing Gunnar’s back.

He doesn’t answer me, but he nods.

I let myself mull it over as I watch over my anxious dragon and brooding pup.

Eventually, warmth creeps back into the serpent, some of his color returning as Randi’s scent thickens in the room.Movement catches my eye, and Ithrow back the covers to see smoky shadows emerging, little wisps that seem to float on the surface of his skin.

“Look. It’s working.”

Gunnar scrambles away from Knox, but I place my hand on Knox’s chest where the shadows are thickest. It tickles at first as the little wisps lick my skin. The smoke becomes stronger, the band wrapping around my wrists and holding me to Knox. It doesn’t hurt, but I know he’s feeding because I can see the black veins nearest my touch lighten.

“Help me feed him. He needs our strength.”

A shaky hand claps Knox’s shoulder. Knox’s shadows wrap around Gunnar’s forearm.

“Now what?” Gunnar asks.

I gaze back at Randi, still in her dragon form, eyes on me, pleading. “We fix it.”