Serpents of the Night (The Darvel Exploratory Systems #5)

Chapter 26

Slengral set a bowl of water beside Daskh, his gaze drifting worried over the male before finally falling on his mate. She was still at his side, her head pillowed on her arm. A faint smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and his gavo fluttered as a soft crooning hum vibrated in his throat. She had refused to leave him for even a moment. In the end, he had been forced to bring not only a healer to see Daskh but also a mid-mother to check on his mate and unborn offspring. His worry had been enough to completely override his territorial drive when it came to his nest and mate—and all sense of propriety as he interrupted the celebrations of the healer and mid-mother shamelessly, though they had not faulted him for it. The mid-mother had crooned over his mate, drawing her reluctantly from Daskh so that both she and the healer had the space to adequately work.

The affirmation that both Lori and their nestling were safe had been enough to send a sudden weakness through Slengral. Unfortunately, Daskh’s case was less certain as the healer could not predict when or if the male would wake up. Head injuries were unpredictable and the healers of the shinara did not have the technology of the colony. A full day cycle and Daskh had not wakened except once and the male had been incoherent. It had been painful to see. Lori did not place any blame on him, but he blamed himself. Although Slengral had attempted to slow his nest brother’s fall and absorb as much of the impact as he could, he had been unable to keep Daskh’s head from connecting with the hard stonework of the shinara. The male’s bodily injuries were not severe, but if his head wound was severe enough... he could not think of it.

He hissed between his teeth with frustration. Daskh would be fine. There was no other option. Not for him and Kehtal, and most certainly not for their mate. Lori would accept nothing else.

His gaze drifted over her face, the tension of the day relaxed and peaceful in her slumber. She had been tirelessly watching over him until finally falling into an exhausted sleep. Leaning over his nest brother, he gently tucked a cushion beneath her head and drew her blanket over her. The lower caverns were cold. She could not get sick. Daskh would never let him hear the end of it when he woke up if she fell ill because of him.

He shook his head and chuffed quietly to himself, imagining the lecture he would receive. Of all of them, Daskh could be the most verbose when riled up. He could not slip in their mate’s care even a little—not that he ever would, but Daskh was attentive about the little things that Slengral would not even think about. He was certain to find something to blame him for regardless—some little thing that the male would consider essential that he had failed to see to adequately while the male was unconscious.

“You can scold me when you waken, brother,” he murmured. “Do not wait too long. I am certain that your list of things to chastise me about will be annoyingly long if you continue to sleep.”

Sighing heavily, he wetted his nest brother’s mouth with the water. He was disappointed but he had not truly expected the male to rise and rebuke him on the spot. He had wished for it, but he had not expected it.

His ear twitched at the soft sound of scales sliding against stone from the heavier shadows at the far end of the room. There were no galthie flowers in their sleeping chamber, just a singular crystal near the bed to provide some light for comfort while leaving much of the remaining room in darkness.

“Do not linger in shadows, Kehtal. It is not necessary.”

Another longer, soft scrape followed as the male made his way to the edge of the bed. “I was not certain if my presence was welcome given my sharp words upon our return to the nest.”

“Your reaction was understandable.” Slengral’s gaze drifted back to the sleeping pair. “I do not blame you for your anger when some part of your worries were realized. You had objected to going but we insisted.”

“It was for our mate’s happiness,” Kehtal replied gloomily. “Daskh would be disappointed in my anger when he loved every moment of her pleasure.” He laughed quietly. “He would say being dropped from the air was worth it.”

The corner of Slengral’s mouth twitched humorously. “He would. What happened though... it was unpredictable, Kehtal. We took every precaution with our mate. We could not have foreseen this accident.”

Kehtal’s eyes narrowed on him. “Are you so certain it was an accident?”

“Are you certain that it was not?” Slengral countered quietly. He did not wish to wake his mate by arguing with his nest brother. She needed her rest. “Lori believes that it was, and her reasoning is logical.”

The male expelled a long breath and snapped his gavo. “You are right. I struggle to trust any of them,” he admitted. “Perhaps my reaction is unjust toward the female.”

Slengral stared down at his mate thoughtfully. “No. It is wise to maintain our guard. We can accept that it was an accident, but we will remain vigilant in case this is a trick to get free access to our mate or nest.”

“I fear that is not the only problem we have to deal with,” Kehtal murmured.

Slengral’s eyes shot up to the male. “Explain?”

“Jathella approached me as I was venting some of my frustration while flying just outside the nest. It seems that news of Daskh’s injury has spread and Vekatha is taking advantage of it. She presented herself to the queen matriarch and so we have been summoned.”

“Understood.” Slengral’s jaw clenched. Of course she would attack the moment they were vulnerable. “We have no choice. Lori and I must answer.” His gaze hardened. “It will fall on you to guard our nest brother and care for him in our absence.”

Kehtal’s gavo snapped again, his head inclining in acknowledgement. “I will but I do not like this,” he grumbled.

“I do not either. Remain vigilant.”

“You as well, brother.”