Deus
I look down at the last warrior. He sleeps peacefully.
I know a thing or two about fighting, and where my mate is concerned, there is not a chance any of these nevvers will touch a hair on her pretty head.
I give his prone form a kick, and he rolls down the slope into the tunnel which will deposit him back where he started.
The breach Dante made in my sector will need to be fixed and made stronger. The rage inside me which rises at his betrayal of our bond in allowing him access where no one else was given it before my mind went completely is tempered by what I did and my own traitorous behavior.
Not that it means Dante can do what he likes. And the way I dealt with Dante and Darax’s warriors is going to be proof enough they can’t cross me, especially in my own sector.
I stare down the tunnel contemplating my next move, when a scream penetrates the darkness.
Before I know it, I’m in the air above the canopy, scanning for any sign of my female as I curse at the stars I did not lock down the dwelling when I went after the warriors sent by my enemies.
She ran because that’s what she said she would do.
There’s another, smaller cry, and I pinpoint it within the trees. They are doing their best to obscure what I am looking for, but I can already scent her. A sweetness tinged with the bitterness of fear I loathe.
Whatever has her, if it is another warrior, they will pay dearly for touching her.
No one touches my little ember.
No one makes her cry out in pain.
I slam into the waving leaves hard, my claws reaching out for whatever needs rending into its component parts. Something wraps around my wings, something wraps around my legs.
I look back and release a burst of flame. My legs are free, and there is a damp groan as what holds my wings to my body slackens for a moment.
Konyov!
These plants are the most deadly in the forest, and I had no idea there was one so close to the dwelling. I’ve always been careful to burn them out, keeping them at a safe distance.
But this one has made its way far too close.
“Deus!” Her voice fills my ears. “Help!”
I use the slack I have for this moment to buck myself free, claws at the ready as I grasp a nearby branch and shift my wings away.
A pair of terrified eyes stare up at me.
I can hardly see my little mate for the vines wrapped around her, and she is in imminent danger of being swallowed whole by the plant.
“I am here,” I growl and spit several fire balls at the base of the konyov. It’s enough to burst the belly of the thing, the enzyme juices spilling out everywhere.
Instantly the vines unwrap from my female. I reach out and grab at her, catching her arm in my hand.
“Hold on,” I growl, swinging her upwards onto the branch above me.
Her eyes are wide, her teeth chattering. She doesn’t take hold of it, instead swaying as if she’s about to fall. I take her hand and place it on the rough surface. Finally, she grips it.
“I need to burn it out,” I tell her. “If not, it will send out tendrils and more will grow.”
She nods briefly, her face a stark pale mask in the dark vegetation.
I release my grip on the tree and slide down it, allowing my claws to slow me before I reach the ground.
Already the tendrils are moving, and I let several short bursts of flame out in order to stop them getting any further before sucking down as much accelerant as I can into my sacs and then letting out a sheet of flame as hot as I can make it.
The konyov’s sap boils, and it makes a screaming sound as if the thing is in pain, only it is not.
It is a predator, but it feels nothing. For a time, when I was here in my sector, before Darax took me away, I felt a kinship with the plant.
Today there is nothing of the sort. Today it tried to hurt my mate. Today it has been ended.
In the next nova days, I will seek out every specimen, and they will suffer the same fate. No matter I thought they would be useful once. Now they are simply a danger to my female.
I climb back up the tree to where she sits, staring down at the fire below us which is slowly waning as the fuel burns out. The light flickers in her eyes.
“I am sorry, little mate,” I say, reaching out to her, gathering her in my arms, and unfurling my wings. “I should have never left you.”
“It’s Lydia,” she says, her voice only a whisper.
“What is?”
“My name.” She looks up at me. “My name is Lydia.”