Chapter 45 Mina
Mina
They’re both still alive and so very far away, their presence through our bond a faint warmth in the back of my mind, like distant candlelight flickering in a vast darkness.
I understand why Abraxis is scared. I’m scared too.
The fear is like a cold serpent coiled in my stomach, its grip tightening with each passing hour.
Anyone at any time can come and challenge him for control of the nest and me, the thought making my scales threaten to erupt beneath my human skin.
If they fight as humans, he stands a chance, but most of the dominance challenges are dragon versus dragon, and his damaged wing makes him vulnerable in ways that could prove fatal.
A bird catches my attention as I ponder what’s happening, its cry sharp and mournful as it circles overhead, perhaps sensing the violence that has stained this place.
The sound pierces through my exhausted thoughts, momentarily grounding me to the present.
For all our sakes, I hope the ancients return sooner than later.
It’s only a matter of time before someone figures out that Abraxis is the only male dragon in the nest and he’s injured, the knowledge spreading like poison through the dragon community.
Walking to the edge of the cliff, I look down at the crew cleaning the courtyard, their movements methodical as they scrub away the charred remains and bloodstains, the acrid smell of cleaning chemicals mingling with the lingering scent of burned flesh.
We’ve torched three waves of mages, and I’m not sure how many died in the woods that my cousins killed, their bodies lost among the trees where shadows and silence now reign.
Either way, the numbers are staggering, a testament to the violence that has touched our sanctuary.
I can only hope that with their forces divided, Klauth and Thauglor come home in one piece, the possibility of losing them making my chest tight with barely suppressed panic.
“Mina, I have food for you,” Ziggy’s voice rings out, carrying across the courtyard with its familiar warmth and concern.
I turn my head to look down at him, and the rich aroma of barbecue sauce and perfectly smoked meat reaches my nostrils, making my stomach clench with sudden hunger.
I smell wings and ribs—my favorite, the scent triggering a Pavlovian response despite my emotional turmoil.
I shift back slowly, my dragoness reluctantly releasing my human form, the transformation accompanied by the now-familiar sensation of bones reshaping and scales receding into skin.
The cool mountain air hits my suddenly exposed flesh, raising goosebumps along my arms and making me shiver slightly.
“Thanks,” I say, my voice hoarse from exhaustion and the emotional strain of the past two days.
We walk over to the bench, and he sets up the food, the plastic containers making soft snapping sounds as he opens them. The steam that rises carries the rich, smoky aroma that normally would have me salivating, but now only serves as a reminder of normalcy in a world gone mad.
“Are you okay?” Ziggy glances around the courtyard, his eyes taking in the scorch marks and gouges in the stone, then allows the glow to fade from his eyes, the otherworldly luminescence dimming until they appear completely feline.
I finish chewing the bite of rib, the meat tender and falling off the bone, flavored with the perfect balance of spice and smoke that should be comforting but tastes like ash in my mouth.
“If I say yes, I’m lying,” I admit, the words heavy with exhaustion and fear.
I take another bite, chewing it slowly, trying to parse what I want to say, the act of eating more mechanical than pleasurable.
“They’re alive, uninjured, and fighting.
” I stare down at my food, watching the barbecue sauce glisten under the morning sunlight.
“Klauth is willing to die to protect the nest and the continent. He doesn’t want future generations to fear mages hunting them.
” I feel a single tear run down my cheek, warm and salty, tracing a path over skin that feels too sensitive, too raw.
“Are they almost done?” Ziggy asks as he hands me a cup of juice, the glass cool against my palms, condensation already forming on the outside in the warming air.
Vaughn and Leander slowly approach, joining us, their footsteps careful and measured, as if they’re afraid sudden movements might shatter what little composure I have left.
I stare down at the ground in front of me, focusing on a small crack in the stone that runs between my feet like a lightning bolt frozen in time.
I search what I’m feeling through the bond, reaching across the miles to touch the edges of my mates’ consciousness.
Klauth isn’t as angry as he was; his rage has dulled to simmering anger, like coals that have burned down but still glow with dangerous heat.
Thauglor is making tactical strikes while Klauth draws all the attention to him, his presence in my mind cool and calculating, a sharp contrast to Klauth’s burning fury.
“It feels like it. But I can’t tell if it’s more exhaustion or if they are almost done,” I say, accepting the fork that Ziggy holds up with a piece of sausage on the end.
The meat is perfectly seasoned, with a slight snap to the casing that releases a burst of flavor across my tongue, but even this small pleasure feels muted by my worry.
“Have they said anything to you?” Leander asks as he sits beside me, the bench creaking slightly under his weight, the sound oddly comforting in its normalcy.
“Thauglor warned me about the mages before they struck,” I say, sipping at my juice, the citrus tang sharp and refreshing against my dry throat.
“He saw half the troops split off to come here,” I add, accepting another bite from Ziggy, this one a piece of perfectly cooked rib meat that practically melts in my mouth.
“How did they know to come here?” Vaughn asks, and I sigh before reaching up to touch my hair, the emerald and silver strands catching the sunlight like spun metal, beautiful and damning in equal measure.
“Me, my coloring. Risedale was the last green dragon nest on this continent,” I say, the admission bitter as gall in my throat.
Closing my eyes, I try to see through Klauth’s eyes, the mental effort making my head throb with the strain.
The battlefield is on fire, a hellscape of flame and smoke that stretches as far as the eye can see.
It’s like the world is burning, the very air shimmering with heat that I can feel even through our distant connection.
The building from my vision is going up in flames before my very eyes, its stone walls cracking and crumbling as the intense heat overwhelms even the ancient masonry.
I pull back and blink my eyes several times, the transition from his sight to mine disorienting, leaving me with spots of light dancing across my vision.
“I think it’s almost over,” I say, my gaze locking on the juice in my hands, the surface trembling slightly with the fine tremor in my fingers.
Ty and Njall walk over and look out over the horizon, their postures alert and protective, scanning for any sign of approaching danger.
“We sent the single males out to scout the territory. Abraxis issued a kill-on-sight order for any mages found,” Njall says as he accepts a cup of juice, the liquid sloshing slightly as his hand shakes with barely contained adrenaline.
I take the fork from Ziggy and start feeding myself, the simple act of self-care feeling strange after having been fed like an invalid.
“We need to keep random males from landing up here. I am not accepting any additional mates,” I say, looking up at my cousins, meeting their eyes with a determination that surprises even me.
They nod slowly, understanding passing between us without words.
“There was talk in town about males petitioning to be a mate,” Ty mentions as he takes a bite of breakfast sausage, the grease glistening on his lips before he wipes it away with the back of his hand.
“There were several at school that made their intentions known. I refused them,” I say, shoveling several small pieces of sausage in my mouth, chewing them slowly, the familiar flavors a small anchor to normalcy in a world that has gone completely insane.
The act of eating becomes meditative, each bite a moment of peace in the storm of my thoughts.
“One male wants to challenge Abraxis for his place; someone noticed his injury at the meeting,” Njall says, and my blood runs cold. The temperature drop so sudden and complete that I feel like ice water has been poured directly into my veins.
“Shit...” The word escapes my lips as a whisper, my eyes finding Balor across the courtyard. He nods, his expression grim, sunglasses hiding his eyes but not the tension in his jaw.
“One of your cousins can fight in his stead,” Balor mentions, and Ty and Njall look at each other, a silent conversation passing between them.
I can see the conflict in their eyes, the way Abraxis acted when I was watching the horizon didn’t win him any points with them, his jealousy and petty behavior leaving a sour taste in everyone’s mouth.
“Let’s see if anything comes of it. Everyone knows I am free to choose for myself what I want,” I say, my eyes following the sausage I’m pushing around on my plate, the movement giving my hands something to do while my mind races with possibilities, none of them good.
“And what do you want?” Abraxis asks as he crosses his arms over his chest, the gesture defensive and aggressive, his stance wide as if preparing for a fight.