Chapter 4
DARIAL
She looks like she’s already gone.
That’s the first, terrible thought that cuts through me as I cross the threshold of the cave. My dragonfire casts gold light across stone, chasing away the shadows and revealing a small, crumpled woman who lies motionless on the ground, her limbs askew. For a heartbeat, I don’t breathe.
Then I feel her.
The timid, barely-there heartbeat that’s so diminished and nothing like the scream of power that dragged us halfway across the territory.
Mate.
Her connection to me snaps into place so fast it makes me stumble. My heartbeat becomes a rapid drum pounding against my chest. I don’t have time to take in the wonder of it before a fresh realization hits.
“She’s burning out.”
Kelan is already moving, his obsidian scales retreating beneath his skin as he shifts closer to human form, command radiating off him. “How bad?”
“Bad enough,” Ronyn answers before I can, his voice rough, as though it has been stripped bare by emotion. He crouches on her other side, his massive frame carefully restrained, as though he’s afraid even his nearby weight might shatter her. “She pushed herself past collapse. Past survival.”
My dragon recoils at the sight of our mate like this. The instinct to gather, to shield, to claim rises so hard it nearly brings me to my knees.
Mine.
The bond snaps into place with overwhelming clarity. I drop to my knees beside her and slide one arm beneath her shoulders, the other under her knees, lifting her into my lap with care. She weighs almost nothing, and the realization is a knife to the ribs.
She is too light and so cold.
Her head lolls against my chest, and as I gaze at her ravaged but still beautiful face, my heart, dormant for centuries, awakens.
Her magic stirs weakly at the contact, brushing against my own like a question asked too softly to hear.
“She needs warmth,” I say, as I let my dragon fire rise through my skin despite the riot inside me. “Water. Food. Clean clothes. Comforts. Now.”
Kelan’s jaw tightens. He’s the alpha of our group, but positions and status don’t matter when our mate’s life is at stake. His eyes flick to my hands, where they cradle our woman. “What about her magic?”
Does he doubt I can control it on my own when she is in this bedraggled state? I'm insulted. “She’s fading,” I whisper, stroking strands of fire-colored hair from her forehead, willing her eyes to open so I no longer have to wonder what color they are.
Ronyn growls, the sound vibrating through the cave.
“He’s right. Look at her.” His gaze never leaves her face, and something fundamental shifts in him as he studies this fragile, half-starved thing who unleashed staggering power and then collapsed beneath its weight.
“That kind of magic should have torn her apart.”
“But it didn’t,” Kelan says quietly. “Which means we will have a task to contain it.”
“If we cage it now, she’ll die.”
Kelan nods, as our mates' lashes flutter faintly. A whisper of breath escapes her lips.
I tighten my hold instinctively, curling her closer, letting another controlled wash of dragon heat seep into her without overwhelming her fragile human body. My wings that are still half-formed wrap around us both like a golden shield, keeping the warmth close.
Ronyn’s hands clench at his sides. “She’s our mate,” he says, voice gravelly with wonder and confusion. “I feel it. In my bones.”
“So do I,” I admit, pressing my forehead briefly to her tangled hair. She smells like frost and smoke, and so deeply right that I sigh with contentment.
Kelan straightens. “Our mate… but she’s also our mission, which means we act fast. Darial, stay with her. Keep her stable.”
How can he be so focused when we’ve found the missing part of ourselves, the craving that’s ached like a shard of glass beneath our skin? How is he not reaching out to touch her?
“And tether her magic?” I ask quietly.
“Only if you must,” Kelan says.
“She’s too powerful,” Ronyn says.
I gaze at the woman in my arms, at the scars visible even through the grime, at the hollow beneath her cheekbones and the blood leaking from wounds, and I marvel at the strength it must have taken her to survive alone under such conditions.
“Go,” I tell them both, taking Kelan’s usual tone. “Get what she needs. I’ll keep her safe.”
For a moment, neither moves, and I understand why. The instinct to hoard her, keeping her hidden and safe between us, pulls hard.
Then Kelan nods decisively. “We can’t take her into the human world. Her magic’s too volatile.”
Ronyn nods in agreement. “This cave will do. For now.”
They move as one to the mouth of the cave, shifting fluidly, dragon and man blurring as they vanish back into the sky to provide for our mate.
And I'm left alone with her to marvel at this strange turn of events.
Our existence has been long, and our promised mate has remained elusive. And now, unexpectedly, the first powerful release of magic in decades brings her to us. It’s a strange twist of fate that the female we seek to adore will be the one we have to leash.
She is human, so there will be no hatchlings in our future. What purpose will this connection serve in a world where no future dragon generations can be born?
The questions sit uncomfortably in my gut.
I adjust her position carefully, wishing I knew her name, drawing her fully against me. Her head fits perfectly beneath my chin, and my dragon hums, satisfied despite the awkward and precarious situation.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” I whisper, remembering the human fairytale of the girl cursed to sleep. I brush a knuckle across her cold cheek. “You’re not alone anymore.”
Minutes stretch. In the darkness, time loses meaning, with only the shallow breaths of an unconscious woman to keep me company. An hour has passed, I think. Or more.
Then the rush of wings and a burst of wind hit.
Feet scrape softly against stone, and Kelan and Ronyn appear, arms full.
They carry a water barrel, clothes, blankets, furs, a large, rolled mattress, and plastic sheeting.
They place everything down and return to the mouth of the cave to collect bags of food, some still warm and deliciously scented, and a copper basin and jug.
Dragons can carry a lot when they need to.
They’ve brought everything we could need for tonight and maybe days beyond.
Kelan’s face is a mask of worry as he gazes at our mate. Ronyn too. She’s warmer now, and her lips have turned a pretty shade of pink. Her cheeks have a slight flush, and her breathing is a little deeper. Relief floods through our connection.
Whatever comes next, this woman is ours now.
And our goddess-given task to contain magic is suddenly not our top priority.