Chapter 31 #2
The high of success faltered under a dart of panic. A fluke was one thing. Doing it twice, with more force, was another.
“You can, Ash,” Race said, that low rumble of certainty in his voice wrapping around her like armor. “I believe in you.”
Those four words steadied her nerves.
Power prickled through her veins as she lifted her hands again, to bend the weather to her will.
Two days to master the storm and call a gale.
Two days before the mountain fell.
Hours later, they reformed in front of the cave, exhaustion sweeping through Ash. Late-afternoon sunlight bled russet-gold through the enormous trees outside, their long shadows stretching over the clearing like watchful sentinels.
Hell. It had been a long, trying day.
Her stomach growled, low and insistent. She groaned. “Hold your horses, I have some breakfast bars.”
Race’s mouth thinned, as if her hunger were a personal insult, that he hadn’t cared properly for his mate. “Stay here. I’ll get you something.”
He dematerialized before she could say a word.
Sighing, Ash settled on a rocky outcrop near the cave’s entrance. She leaned back on her palms, still feeling flushed from her earlier victory. Through their bond, Race’s presence brushed against her mind—focused, intent—likely tracking something that had clearly given him quite a run.
Caught you, you ornery pest.
His triumphant thought sparked through her, and a grin tugged at her mouth. She could feel her mate’s satisfaction—even hunting a six-legged hare the size of a Labrador required effort here.
For god’s sake, please skin and gut it before you bring it back, she shot through their mind-link.
Rich, warm laughter rolled through her mind, his voice curling inside her head. Already done, heart-fire.
Smiling, Ash summoned her dagger from where it had fallen near the trunk she’d used for target practice earlier and flipped it experimentally. The hilt slipped through her fingers, clattering to the ground.
Eh, so she wasn’t going to make her living as a juggler. As long as she could aim and strike, she didn’t care.
She sensed Race drawing closer, warmth blooming bright within her.
I’m inside the cave, he telepathed. Thought you might not want to see the skinned hare.
Her heart expanded, affection and gratitude swarming her. She leaped to her feet and hurried into the cave. The scent of smoke and roasting meat greeted her. Race crouched near the firepit, the flames casting a flickering glow across the hard planes of his beautiful face.
She sat next to him, nearly drooling from hunger—
“Sire?” Attor stood at the entrance, his big frame backlit by the lowering sun. “We’re moving into Duskscale. Talonhold House is secured for the indefinite future.”
Ash slipped off her parka and dropped it on a rock near the pit. “So, who’s going?”
“You and the sire,” he said, ambling over. “Koal and me. Skaldr’s busy currently. He, Varkyn, and Rhaedra will join us tomorrow night.”
Ash suppressed the faint curl of relief that she wouldn’t have to watch the she-dragon eyeballing her mate. It didn’t matter that Race didn’t notice, because she bloody well did.
“Any problems?” Race asked, arms braced on his thighs, his voice terse.
Attor crouched opposite the fire. “None…except keeping it quiet that you’ve returned.
For now, only our current team knows you’re here.
They’ve all been sworn to silence. We can’t risk word leaking and ruining the narrow margin of advantage we finally have.
Those who join as needed will be notified of your return then. ”
“Good,” Race said, his tone flat. “I don’t want to raise anyone’s hopes until this is over.”
Ash laid her palm on the tense line of his back, hoping to ease some of the rigidity there.
“If anything, I’m going to trust old Vargol,” Attor said. “We’ve been locked in this stalemate for far too long.”
Ash recalled the half-blind ridge-hermit Attor had mentioned, and the prophecy about Race. But her mate’s tense body seemed carved from stone as he turned the spit.
You are one of the strongest males I’ve ever known, she mind-linked with him. My knight.
A pause. Then, dryly, Really? I’m supposed to believe the bullshit knight part when you insisted you saved yourself from those hoodlums chasing you?
Well, she teased, you are my knight in all things that matter.
His laughter, soft and warm, curled through her mind. Nice save, my mate.
Aloud, she said brightly, “Oh, this looks fantastic. The hare’s browned exactly how I like it—burnt crisp at the edges.”
Race cast her a dry look. “Is that a dig at me?”
She tapped her lips, hiding her smile. “Hmm…yeah.”
His huff held amusement and tender exasperation—
Something dark and hot flickered through their bond, gone before she could reach for it.
He went utterly still.
What was that? she asked, tensing.
Nothing. He rubbed her back and stood. “Attor, stay with Ash until my return.”
“Wait, wait, where are you going?” She shot to her feet.
“I must hunt.”
Unease coiled in her gut. “But we have food…”
“Not enough for me.” A faint smile. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He was already moving toward the entrance, his strides too quick, too tense. Something was wrong—she felt it in the tight cord of their bond, in the way he wouldn’t quite meet her eyes.
What just happened?
“Are you all right?” Attor asked her, checking the roast.
Ash forced a smile and sat on the stone seat. “I am. Just thinking about what’s coming.”
“Indeed,” he murmured. “No one knows how this will turn out. All our previous attempts failed, the lives lost, but now…”
Now, Race is here. All hope rested on one person. The pressure he must feel.
No matter, she would be there alongside him. Needing to hear his voice, she mind-linked with him again. Race?
I am well, heart-fire. Eat and rest. I’ll be back once I’ve hunted.
He sounded fine, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.
Ash lay on her parka, staring at the cave’s ceiling, unable to sleep. Race had been gone far longer than the usual hour-long hunts she’d come to expect.
Her meal over, the fire crackled softly after Attor had attended to it. Now he waited outside, keeping watch. Race’s warmth within her remained steady, but anxiety gathered momentum and tightened her chest like a bloody garrote.
Race? She reached out again—
The cave air stirred, and he took form.
Relief flooded her so fast, she shot upright. “I was worried. You’ve been gone a while.”
“My pardon, heart-fire.” He strolled over, looking so calm, maybe she’d imagined that punch of darkness. “I flew a wide circle, making sure all was clear before hunting. A Guardian’s duty remains ingrained no matter where I am.” He sat next to her, his scent of burnt embers and ice soothing her.
She bit back a sigh and rubbed her temples.
“Why are you awake and fretting, hmm?”
“Maybe because I like my mate next to me when I fall off to sleep,” she muttered.
A smile tugged at the corner of his tempting mouth, then his eyebrows collided. “I don’t like you sleeping on the cold ground. Do you want to go to Talonhold? We can leave now.”
She almost said no, then hesitated. “Will that be better for everyone?”
“I’m not interested in everyone, just you.”
Her gaze flickered over his tight features, and her worry resurfaced. “Are you all right?”
He smiled, his eyes deepening to burgundy. “I’m fine, my heart. There’s much at stake with what’s ahead.”
With him being the last of his bloodline, everything hung on him, putting his very life at risk.
Her stomach churned at the cold truth.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you.” She wrapped her arms around him, holding on tight. “Once we’re back in Duskscale, everything begins. Here, it still feels like we have time.”
“Nothing is going to happen to me,” he murmured, gently rubbing her back. “The night’s turning colder. Let me shift, I’ll keep you warm that way.”
Race stood, kicked off his boots, and undressed. Ash automatically took his clothes and set them on her backpack, her heartbeat quickening.
Tall, naked, and so darn tempting, he moved away from her, the firelight brushing his lightly tanned skin to a deeper gold. His entire being shifted and sort of folded into itself, and an enormous dragon unfurled, the firelight sliding off scales like obsidian glass.
Her heart pounded as if it might bolt from her chest as she craned her neck, staring at the black dragon. His head was the size of a small car, his talons larger than her forearms. Her gaze followed the spines crowning his brow, running down his back in a dark, lethal line.
It’s still me, heart-fire. Come.
When she didn’t move, he lowered his massive head and chuffed softly, the warm rush of his breath stirring her hair. That familiar scent—burnt ember, ice, and Race—wrapped around her, grounding her even as awe stole her breath.
With trembling fingers, she reached out.
“Hullo, Kaelthar,” she greeted softly.
The great dragon dipped his head, his crimson eyes—so like Race’s, except with the slitted pupils—met hers, and she gently caressed his scaled muzzle.
His snout brushed against her hair, a surprisingly tender gesture from something so powerful.
Ash smiled at the tender acknowledgment, her heart stuttering.
Kaelthar and Race…both were him, both had chosen her.
Come, my mate, his voice was a rough purr in her head as he stretched out against the wall like an enormous, overgrown house cat and chuffed again.
Ash curled against her dragon’s scaly and incredibly warm chest.
Her gaze roamed over him in the flicker of the firelight—those utterly lethal ridged spines, the sheen of obsidian scales—when something else pinged her mind. Curious, she sat up and studied him again. Her dragon was spiked and scaled everywhere, but—
His tail swept the ground, stirring dust. What?
“Your dragon’s beautiful…”
A low purr rumbled through his throat. But?
I don’t see your dick.
Soft laughter drifted through their mate bond. It’s concealed in this form. Can you imagine if it were all hanging out?
Ash grinned and snuggled against him again. “No, I don’t want anyone else seeing that.”
A tired sigh escaped her. He was so incredibly warm, like a massive quilt. Her palm traced the rough, scaled forelimb. “I do like your obsidian scales…”
I’m the last of the blacks. We males all took after Pyr’xian—his silver hair, his eyes in varying shades of red.
Ash twisted, staring up into those deep claret eyes glowing like banked embers. “What about females?”
Pyr’xian’s line rarely birthed daughters. When they did, they often favored their dams. My mother was silver.
“She must have been beautiful.”
Aye.
The word thrummed with quiet reverence.
From outside, faint voices drifted through the tunnel entrance. She froze.
Just Skaldr, Race soothed. Reporting to Attor.
Right. Her stomach remained tense as she shut her eyes, pressing closer into him. What the hell did she know about war—about fighting terrifying dragon shifters?
Calm down, he murmured. You can do this.
Right. Go to the mountain and work my weather magic. Simple.
She was going to mess up.
Ash.
She grimaced. Okay, okay, I won’t think about anything, just you.
A soft chuff rumbled through him, quiet, rough, full of something she couldn’t name.
Ash shut her eyes, praying she wouldn’t blow this.