Chapter Eleven
VESKOR
The island glowed like a nest of stars above me. I circled higher around its edges, not wanting to be spotted. Luckily, the air witches were on the ground, celebrating with the rest of them.
Lanternlight shimmered along the branches, flickering off wings and scales and woven magick. Drakens—my kin, my blood—danced and sang beneath the trees. Children screeched with laughter. Witches of every kind gathered, filling the air with music and beauty.
I landed roughly on the edge of the volcano, cold ashes clutched in my claws. The wards were thin and brittle here—like a wraith everyone had forgotten about.
You are forgotten as well. You do not have a home. You don’t get nice things and nice people.
A low growl scraped out of my chest, stubbornly resisting the voice in my head. “This should be mine.”
The wards shimmered faintly in the air, an invisible wall drawn tight around Lyoness.
They hummed like a threat, but it hung hollow.
I sensed weakness. They were originally meant to protect drakens.
There were too many witches—even bloodwitches—on the island.
It was upsetting the balance. Plus, they wouldn’t protect against me, another draken.
The wards didn’t like that I was there, but were confused about what to do about it.
I dug my claws into the rock, relishing the scrape.
I was older than any of the drakens below.
Perhaps stronger, as well. My bloodline stretched back before they were even conceived.
It had to be thus. Why else would I have lived so long and survived everything if I was not the strongest among them?
I’d survived countless death matches, the gladiator ring in the fighting pits.
Yet now I hovered above and outside like a mangy stray, watching them build lives within walls not meant for me.
I remembered this island before. I was very sure I’d been born here. It had been different, then. Something terrible had happened that I barely remembered—heat, fire, and brimstone. Then water, and afterwards nothing but darkness and pain and men with whips and chains.
It had to have been a dream. There was no volcano here, just empty rock.
I’d shown them in the end.
I’d tried finding my way home for centuries, only to constantly chase my own wings. I’d found the southern enclave, but their wards were too strong. I’d followed the male draken out here, hoping he’d lead me to more drakens.
He had.
Or rather, the witch’s ship had.
And still, I was stuck on the outside. The sounds within enraged me.
Celebration.
Family.
Warmth.
All stolen from me.
A shape caught my eye, ascending quickly toward me. It was small, swift, and reckless. A ... drakling?
No, not quite. A little female humanoid, maybe two or three years old, climbing the black rock of the dormant volcano with delighted shrieks, her tiny witch claws scraping through sand and stone. Her skin shimmered oddly.
Filthy half-breed.
She laughed as she slipped. The sound stabbed somewhere inside my ribs, unexpected and sharp.
“So. They breed freely here. Too freely,” I grumbled. What would happen to the mighty drakens if they all took witches to bed?
The jealousy burned. I didn’t bother to hide it, even from myself. All I wanted was that for myself—a mate.
The drakling scrambled higher. Too high. The wards shimmered around me, sensing danger. They were weak this far up, stretched thin like worn cloth. I could feel the weak spot from where I crouched. The tear I’d made was waiting to become a fully-fledged hole.
The child reached the jutting ridge of stone stepped too far—
And slipped.
She flailed, a startled cry tearing through the air. She didn’t have wings to catch herself, and even if she did, they would have been too small for her body. She tumbled hard.
Something came over me at that moment.
The world narrowed.
My muscles moved before thought. Wings snapped open, catching the wind as I lunged upward. The wards crackled when I pierced the weak seam, burning against my scales, but I pushed through.
Her tiny body plummeted.
I caught her against my chest and scooped her up, claws careful—so careful—cradling her as if she were made of smoke. The wards didn’t even sizzle as I crossed them again.
BAM.
She hit my chest, blinking up at me with big eyes, blue as lightning. They filled with tears as she trembled, clutching onto me like I was her father.
Like she saw me.
“Hi,” she whispered.
My breath hitched.
She reached up and touched my cheek with a tiny claw. Her hand was soft and warm, and something I hadn’t felt in centuries. Or … ever?
“Hello,” I said softly, voice breaking in a way I despised.
She giggled—actually giggled—and wrapped her little arms around my neck.
There was only one answer my instincts offered: I had found her. She was mine, now.
A darker voice followed: They don’t deserve her. Only you do. They do not even notice her absence.
I looked down at the island and at the celebration. These drakens had barred me from my home and a mate. They had forgotten the old ways, the sacred ways, and allowed a precious child to wander away into danger.
They didn’t need her.
They didn’t deserve her.
But a child—this child—could be raised into strength. Into truth. Into a lineage worthy of the old blood. She was mine.
“I could kill you,” I murmured, not to her, but to the part of myself that still understood cruelty.
I lifted her chin, studied her features, and her upturned nose. Her hair was a pale red, almost strawberry color.
“I could,” I said again.
She smiled at me, as if it were all a big joke. And the idea died.
“Hmph,” I grumbled to no one.
She leaned into my chest with trust so pure it nearly shattered me.
“I will take you,” I whispered. “You will come with me. You will be mine.”
A shadow swept across the sky, nearing us. I snarled and curled her into my chest as bronze wings bore down on us.
Another male draken, but not her father. I could tell from the scent.
For the first time in my life, I had something someone else wanted. It was exhilarating, and I would not give her up so easily.
“Time to leave,” I murmured.
She cooed and nuzzled my chest, happy at the prospect of an adventure.
The draken landed on the rock below us with a skidding spray of volcanic dust, eyes wide with relief first at seeing the child, then shifting to horror as he took me in.
“NO!” he screamed.
Too late.
I stepped back toward the crack in the wards, the child pressed to my chest, with power humming under my skin as I prepared to vanish with her into the night. He was smaller than me. He would not be a challenge.
Smiling, I flashed my fangs at him.
“Come take her back then … if you can.”