Chapter 6 #5
The girl was lingering at the back and lost in a daydream, but now she jumps and turns as white as snow. “I-I— Me, dragonmaster?”
“Yes. That’s an order, dragonrider.”
“But I…”
Her voice fades as I narrow my eyes.
The princess takes a deep breath and steps toward the cave, her dragon following timidly at her side. Dianthe never used to jump at her own shadow, but she’s learning fearfulness from her dragonrider. I hate to see dragons absorbing bad behaviors from their riders.
I want to snap at Mirelle that she’ll be safer inside the cave than the rest of us who are exposed on this mountainside, but it’s her first mission, and so I rein in my temper. “Mirelle, move.”
Onderz tries to go with her, but I hold him back. Zabriel looks like he has misgivings about seeing his little sister in peril.
“The sooner you get this over with, the sooner we will all be safely home,” I remind her.
“Yes, dragonmaster,” she squeaks.
We watch as she and Dianthe disappear inside the cave. Onderz paces up and down, sweat on his brow despite the frigid air. A short time later, Mirelle reappears, flushed with success, and Dianthe is carrying a small metal cage in her teeth with greenish flames flickering within.
The yellow Omega dragon places it on the snow and deluges it with dragonfire, melting the metal into silvery rivers and sending up clouds of steam. The phylactery screams in anger and pain and gives off an awful stench.
When the flames die down, I stare at what remains of the blackened vessel in disgust, an acrid taste in my mouth. I think we just encountered something that is truly evil. At least now it’s dead.
I glance up at Mirelle and nod sharply. “Good.”
The princess is so overwhelmed by her success that she hugs her dragon and bursts into tears.
Emmeric is about to say something nasty until Onderz elbows him in the stomach on his way to scoop Mirelle up into his arms. A moment later, the young Alpha’s pungent scent fills the air in his efforts to comfort his Omega, and probably himself as well.
I wouldn’t have been able to stand by while another Alpha put my Omega in danger and made her cry, but I’m not a trainee.
They both have to learn to respect each other’s talents.
Turning away to Nilak, I call over my shoulder, “Trainees, let’s move out.”
A few feet away, Zenevieve is stroking her dragon’s snout and watching me. “I know what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing?”
“You’re building up Mirelle’s confidence. She’s always been told she’s useless, and you’re showing her she’s not.”
“This is dragonrider training. No one gets special treatment.”
“Stesha, I know you put more thought into it than that. Do you remember when I was overwhelmed by all the attention I was getting? You suggested I get a sword and showed me how to feel powerful. I think you know how it feels…” She bites her lip and checks that we’re out of hearing distance of the others, which we are.
“I know how it feels…?” I prompt her.
“I don’t want to make you angry with me.”
I’ve never been angry with Zenevieve in my life. I don’t even know what that would feel like. I brush snow from Minta’s scales and wait.
“I don’t know if you’re allowed to say this to an Alpha,” Zenevieve says. “You all seem to strive so hard for perfection at all times. But I think you remember feeling unimportant and afraid.”
I smile to myself. Leaning down, I cup the back of her neck and press my forehead against hers, the bridges of our noses touching.
I do this all the time with Nilak, and it feels natural with Zenevieve as well.
“You do remember me, don’t you? From when I was a boy, before you left Lenhale to live in the countryside. ”
“Of course I do,” she whispers, her green eyes filling my vision. “You were Grandfather’s apprentice.”
“I remember you, too.”
“I wish I could have given you a hug back then. I think you haven’t forgotten that it was a painful time for you, and you don’t like to see anyone fearful.”
Anyone? I don’t care about just anyone. “I like to know the ones I care about can protect themselves until I’m able to reach them.”
“You care for Princess Mirelle?” she asks, and there’s a flicker of misgiving in her eyes.
“No, Zen. But Queen Magritte has shown me kindness, and so I honor her whenever I can.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “We have to go.”
I walk back through the snow toward Nilak, every footstep I take sinking half a foot deep into powder. Soon we’re airborne, but we’ve lingered too long on the mountainside.
The lich catches up to us.
Nilak sees it first, a dark figure against the snow, and it hurls a ball of green flames at Scourge and Zabriel as I shout a warning.
Nilak dives, unleashing a torrent of dragonfire on a dark speck on the snow.
Instantly I’m joined by Zenevieve on Minta and Onderz on Zeith, and they add to Nilak’s flames, but it’s Zabriel who finishes the sorcerer off.
The crown prince is so exultant that once he’s on the ground, he raises his sword in victory, only to be burned by his own dragon’s final breath of flames.
Zabriel screams in pain. The trainees hurry to heap snow on the crown prince’s burned hand while I stand over him, a vein throbbing in my temple.
To execute a mission and then be injured by your own dragon.
I have never seen anything so monumentally stupid in all my life.
The rider of the flare’s Alpha won’t be able to hold a sword for weeks.
What if war breaks out? What if he needs to protect his family?
The boy is foolish and reckless. Maledin is doomed if Zabriel is still this idiotic when he sits upon the throne.
“Blood and wyvern piss, Zabriel. I will have to waste your father’s time with this.”
I leave him lying on the snow gasping and flopping about like a dying fish. He can’t endure an injury with any self-respect.
I’m climbing up Nilak’s flank when I hear Zenevieve’s cry of pain. I let go of the strap, hit the ground, and run to her.
“What is it? What has happened?” I ask, slightly out of breath.
Zenevieve has her hand behind her back. “Nothing.”
“Show me.”
“I’m fine.”
There’s a stubborn expression in her eyes, and I know she’s trying to be brave. She doesn’t need to be. I’m here now, so I can be brave for her. I step closer, looming over her. “I said, show me.”
She draws her hand out from behind her back, and I see there’s a two-inch gash on her palm, oozing blood. “I forgot to put my gloves on, and I cut myself on one of Minta’s loose scales.”
The sight of her injury stabs me through my heart. Zenevieve’s bleeding. She’s in pain. I told her father she would be safe with me, I swore it on my life, and she’s been injured on her first mission.
I pull my glove off with my teeth, lick the pad of my thumb, and draw it over the wound.
It’s something Alpha dragons do for their hatchlings and their mates, and Maledinni Alphas do the same for their young and their mates.
I have seen it a hundred times among the flare, but I have never had the chance to try it myself.
Instantly, her wound becomes less red and swollen, and a moment later, the bleeding ceases. Satisfaction and pleasure bursts through me as I realize it worked.
I lick her blood off my thumb so that it doesn’t stain my riding clothes.
Gods, that’s sweet. How is it that her blood tastes so sweet?
For a moment I can’t think. I can’t breathe.
I’ve only ever tasted my own blood when someone has split my lip in a fight, and it was salty and metallic.
Nothing like Zenevieve’s heady sweetness.
My dragines throb in my mouth.
I breathe hard, gripping Zenevieve’s hand tightly. The urge to pull her into my arms and fly away with her on Nilak is almost overwhelming.
Alarm bells are ringing in the back of my mind. There’s something strange here. Something I’m missing. It’s hovering at the edges of my awareness, fluttering just out of my reach.
“Stesha?” my ward asks hesitantly, and I realize I’m gripping her hand too tightly.
The strange feeling ebbs away, leaving me hollow with confusion and a painful sense of loss.
I blink and look around. The mountainside.
The destroyed phylactery. All the trainees who I must protect.
We have to get out of here before the lich returns.
I wonder if I have a rut coming on and that’s why I feel so odd.
“Are you all right to fly home on Minta?”
“I’ll be fine. Look, I’m all better already.” She smiles up at me. After a moment, she adds, “You look so handsome up here in the snow. All this white makes your eyes look so blue.”
I’m still holding her hand, and my thumb is drawing circles on her palm by the healing cut. All this white makes her black hair look as dark as night, and her green eyes sparkle.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Emmeric watching us with a nasty expression, and I’m filled with an ominous feeling. Turning my head, I stare at him until he looks away.
The second prince is biding his time. Waiting for a sign of weakness. To do what?
I squeeze Zenevieve’s hand. “Fly safe. Don’t get left behind.”