Epilogue 2
I WILL WASH THE BOWLS. THEN I WILL HUNT THE ENEMY.
SARVEN
Mih-kay-lah is asleep.
She is buried so deep in the furs I gathered that I can only see the top of her dark hair. Her mind is quiet, a soft, dreaming hum against my own. She is safe.
But the mountain is not.
I slide carefully from the warmth of the nest. Mih-kay-lah shifts, making a small sound of protest, but I send a wave of warm-safe-sleep through the mindspace, and she settles again.
I rise, foregoing the loincloth, and step out of the alcove into the cool tunnel air.
I am not the only one awake.
Down the corridor, near the junction that leads back to the main cavern, a shadow detaches itself from the wall.
It is Kol.
The dra-dam leans against the stone, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are unblinking, fixed on the darkness leading back down toward the heart-cavern.
“You felt the eyes upon us,” Kol’s projection rumbles in the mindspace.
“Mih-kay-lah felt him,” I correct, stopping beside him. “In the light shaft. A face. I caught only the scent of wrongness. Dismissed it when we found the poison. I was wrong. She saw the intruder clearly.”
Kol tilts his head slowly. He holds out his claw. In his palm sits a small, jagged object. It looks like stone, but as I lean closer, I catch the scent.
Old blood. Stale. Enemy.
“She was right,” Kol says. “Haroth found this near the upper ventilation shaft while you were deep in the stone. It is a totem. Lucek’s clan.”
My lip curls back from my fangs as a growl vibrates in my chest. “They were watching us. While we worked. While she fell.”
“They were scouting,” Kol corrects. “Checking our strength. Checking our water.”
He closes his fist over the totem, grinding it to dust.
“The water is flowing now,” I say. “Mih-kay-lah fixed it. But the filter is fragile. And something sleeps within the mountain. If they come back… if they break the stones…”
“Then we die,” Kol finishes. “Or we fight.”
He turns his gaze to me. His glow is dim, controlled, but beneath it lies the same violence that lives in all of us.
“You are mated now, Sarven. Your duty is to her.”
“My duty is to keep her alive.” I stand taller. “That means keeping the water safe.”
“Yes.” Kol looks back toward the tunnel leading down to the deep dark. “We cannot leave the filter unguarded. Not with Lucek’s eyes on us.”
“I will stand guard,” I offer, though the thought of leaving the warm nest pulls at my gut.
“No,” Kol says. “You have done your part. Tonight, Zan watches the lower tunnel. Haroth watches the upper vents.”
Kol straightens, his massive frame filling the hallway.
“But this is not over. The sickness in the water… the scout she saw in the ceiling… they are connected. Lucek is not just watching. He is waiting.”
Kol’s eyes shift to the side tunnel where the humans sleep—where Eh-ree-kah sleeps. His jaw tightens.
“We need to know what they are planning,” he continues. “We need to hunt.”
He looks at me.
“Rest tonight, dust-son. Be with your mate. But sharpen your blade tomorrow. We are not just surviving anymore.”
“No,” I agree, the image of Mih-kay-lah falling into the dark water flashing through my mind. The fear turns into cold, hard resolve. “We are protecting.”
“Go,” Kol says.
I turn back to the alcove.
When I slide back into the furs, Mih-kay-lah immediately rolls toward me, seeking my heat. She mumbles something about “koh-fee” in her sleep and throws a leg over my waist.
I wrap my arms around her, pulling her so tight there is no space for air between us.
I am better than a husband. I am a Drakav.
And if Lucek’s clan comes for my mate, or her water, or her peace?
I will not just filter the poison.
I will slaughter it.