Chapter 44 A Dragon’s Cry
~ DONAVYN ~
I found myself awake before Bren. Dawn light bled through the thin line between curtains as the sun rose.
We’d fallen into bed the night before, clinging, the moment we returned to the apartment.
I’d intended to talk with her, to make certain she was at peace, but she’d fallen asleep almost the moment her head hit the pillow. She hadn’t moved since.
Her hair fanned out on the pillow, hands curled under it and her knees drawn up almost to her chest. She curled up, as if even in sleep, she protected her heart.
She hadn’t stirred. I prayed this deep sleep was the rest of a heart as peaceful as her expression right now.
She’d been wrung out by the confrontation with her father. And no wonder.
I’d wanted to kill the man.
Kgosi had remained in my head throughout, warning me, reassuring me—reminding me of my purpose and responsibility to be an example to the younger men.
I would have to thank Ronen today for stepping in.
There had been a moment there when I’d almost taken him.
God, this day would have looked very different if they hadn’t been ready to catch me.
I sighed, but didn’t move, watching the light in the room slowly rise, turning her pale cheeks peach and gold.
The greater part of me was so fucking proud of her for standing in the face of that onslaught.
I knew she’d been terrified to walk into that room—I’d felt her shrinking in the bond.
But she overcame it. The timid girl who’d arrived in the Keep in Akhane’s shadow had disappeared.
She’d truly become a new Creation. And I loved being there to witness it.
I’d seen that change in so many men. But there was something unique about seeing it in a woman. Any woman. But my mate?
That was a treasure.
And yet…
Once again, I was left with the unsettling truth of the world that she faced, and how differently it would treat her than it treated me, or any of her brothers.
Here we were, preparing to throw her into that fray on purpose. And she lifted her chin and beckoned us forward. But was it truly the best for her?
I wavered on that point.
If she met it and succeeded, I could see the battles we were about to fight becoming milestones of growth in her life. But if one of them defeated her?
‘We cannot choose the stepping stones the Creator has planned for us, Donavyn. Only how we will meet them,’ Kgosi sighed wearily in my head. So wearily, it alarmed me.
‘What’s happened? You sound—’
‘Donavyn, you did right by your mate last night—and her heart was bolstered. Akhane crowed victory. Bren will be well. You must give her room to spread her wings.’
‘I know. I saw it. I did. Only that bastard would have stripped her right back to the beginning if he could. He would have torn down everything she’s built here—and she had to fight to keep it.’
‘And she did. With your support, and her brothers’. And that will remain.’
Alarm fluttered in my chest at Kgosi’s weariness. My dragon rarely sounded tired, though I knew his burdens were heavy.
‘Keg… what’s happened? You sound exhausted.’
It took a moment for him to respond, as if he resisted the words. ‘Ciar is fading. I stand with him. But he has given up.’
Shit. ‘Has he shown you anything new?’
‘Not yet. But I press. His time is short. And he’s losing his grip. I’m asking him to cleanse himself—I believe his pain comes, in part, by not sharing his burden. But he continues to resist.’
‘Should I come?’
‘It cannot hurt. And bring Barak. Perhaps he feels his curse has removed my authority? I do not see it, he remains submissive. But I’ve never met this before. As if he would live, but his heart is being eaten alive, and he will not tell me why.’
That didn’t sound good at all. ‘Is it possible the men did something to him? We know those bastards were dark. Could they have hurt him? Poisoned him in some way?’
‘I do not know. It seems unlikely if he brought judgment, but I do not know, Donavyn. And the Creator has not seen fit to reveal it to me. Yet.’
It was, perhaps, the first time I’d sensed a hint of uncertainty in Kgosi’s tone. My dragon was the most faithful and unwavering heart I had ever known. To hear him question himself was alarming.
‘I’ll be there as soon as I find Barak,’ I assured him.
‘Thank you, Donavyn. Watching Ciar grieve his rider… it sears my heart and makes me want you close.’
I was touched. ‘I’ll come now.’
I didn’t hesitate, though I moved as slowly and quietly as I could to roll out of bed.
I ached to stroke Bren’s face, to wake her and kiss her and tell her I loved her, make certain she still felt strong this morning.
But I also knew she needed the rest, and unless the queen called her, she had nothing in her schedule until after breakfast, which was rare.
I prayed Diaan was consumed with other tasks today.
After dressing silently, I scribbled a note for Bren and left it on my pillow, then left in search of the Furymaster, suddenly anxious to get to my dragon who so rarely needed me.
Barak sighed and shook his head, his face lined with grief. “I knew he was failing,” he said quietly. “But I hoped…”
I nodded. Kgosi crooned, and nudged Ciar’s shoulder, but the dragon didn’t even acknowledge him.
On a rise in the woods a mile from the Keep, he’d collapsed under one of the massive trees we called the guardians of the forest. All color was gone from his scales, and that glowing, living light that pulsed under the dragons’ skins, did little more than flicker in tiny spaces between scales, like embers about to die.
His skin hung from his bones like a too-large garment, and his scales continued to slough off so that long, ragged pieces dragged to the ground in places he hadn’t scratched.
His neck was outstretched, and he hadn’t even curled his tail around his legs. His wings slumped to the ground as if he didn’t possess the strength to keep them at his sides.
He was a deflated sack, left out in the rain. It was horrifying to see a dragon in such a state.
Kgosi rumbled and crooned, breathing over the pained male—but his vocalizations were becoming more urgent. There wasn’t much time.
Through the bond we shared, I reached for my dragon, acknowledging his grief and regret—he blamed himself for not getting through to the male in time.
But I was certain it wasn’t Kgosi’s failing.
Something had caused this dragon to close his heart—an attitude so unlike the dragons—that even his Primarch couldn’t get through to him.
If anyone could, it would have been Kgosi. I’d wanted to press, wanted to urge Kgosi to work harder, to do something, to get us anything he might know. But now, seeing the poor creature, I prayed for mercy.
Let him stop suffering.
Because it was very, very clear that suffer, he did.
“He’s so sad.”
The small, uncertain voice rose behind me, and I blinked.
That had been the surprise this morning—when Barak brought Benji with him for this moment that seemed so sacred.
But Barak had assured me, the boy was gifted, and that if he was to be effective in this work, he had to be willing to walk through anything the dragons shared in the herd.
The death of Ciar would be a blow to all of them that were linked under Kgosi. They’d feel it like a piece of their herd bond had been removed.
Barak put his hand to Benji’s shoulder and gripped him like a brother.
“We must share their pains, as well as their strength,” he said solemnly.
“They are unashamed of grief. They will mourn him openly. And we can share that. Don’t do as humans do and tell them to stop or stifle their hearts.
Feel it with them, Benji. It is their strength that they do not deny their pains. They grieve their losses deeply.”
I nodded, though I hadn’t thought about how it would be to have access to multiple dragon minds and hearts in that state.
I’d always admired Kgosi’s ability to feel deeply yet be unwavering in his purpose. Tried to emulate it. But would I have the strength to continue if I could connect with multiple dragons and feel all their pains?
I was suddenly in the possession of a newfound respect for the Furymaster—and for Benji, if this was the burden they carried.
And it was clear, the boy was deeply affected. His dirty cheeks were tracked in tears he’d already shed. He never took his eyes off the dragon and continued to comment on his state.
‘He carries a burden too heavy for any of us,’ Kgosi rumbled to me. ‘His mind is breaking, and his heart with it.’
‘He’s going insane?’
Kgosi grunted and shuffled to the dragon’s side to rub Ciar’s shoulder with his snout, but the male didn’t even blink.
‘He is growing foggy. Blending dreams with reality. I’ve never seen a dragon die in this way—I’m convinced it’s because he’s holding dark truth without speaking.
It poisons him from the inside out. But he has closed to me.
I don’t understand. He did no wrong that I can see.
Instead, he carries the darkness of others.
I have not seen the like of it in all my years, Donavyn. ’
There was a piercing scream overhead and I looked up.
The dragons of the herd had been standing watch over Ciar—making certain he wasn’t harmed by the predators of the forest in his weakened state.
Offering support and encouragement. They took shifts, always two or three circling overhead, while others would lay with him for hours at a time.
They weren’t embarrassed by his weakness.
They gave him dignity. But he spoke to none of them, apparently.
“Do you have any idea how we can help?” I asked Barak. But the Furymaster shook his head sadly, blinking away what I suspected were tears of his own.
“He’s given up. It’s only a matter of time now. Frankly, I’m surprised he lasted this long. I don’t know what’s kept him clinging, but whatever it was, I think he gave it away.”