Chapter Twenty
VESKOR
The storm should not have come this early, or as hard. Or maybe I was simply reaching my limits. Drakens were not for cold climates, but I had thought myself tougher than most because of what I had endured in my life.
Perhaps not.
I hadn’t thought that I’d travelled north enough for such wind and snow.
Apparently, I had.
Wind howled against the cliffs like a wounded wyrm, snow slashing sideways so violently it stung even my scales. The world outside the cave was a shifting sheet of white: featureless, directionless. I couldn’t smell where the north ended and the sky began.
Perri huddled near the crude fire I’d built in our small cave, wrapped against my chest. Her skin shimmered slightly—pale white with just a hint of rose gold—reflecting the orange light of the flames. She was so small I swallowed her whole.
“I don’t like it,” she whispered, shivering. “It sounds angry.”
“It is,” I said.
Storms always were. But, the storm also protected us. It meant the red and bronze draken and whoever was trailing him would lose our tracks. It meant no draken scent could carry on the wind.
It meant we were invisible.
Except …
It also meant we were trapped.
The fire crackled weakly as it fought a battle it was destined to lose. My woodpile was shrinking too fast. Perri stuck her hands toward the flame, her small body trembling.
She’d held up better than most would in their first experience of the cold. I was proud of her. She was dead useful in starting the fire as well, sucking the moisture out of all the wood and helping create a spark to get it going. Firewitches were useful things.
But as I knew it would come to pass, her magick wouldn’t last forever. Not a child her size. She was cold again and hungry.
“Veskor?” she asked cautiously. “Why are storms loud?”
I blinked.
No one had ever asked me a question just to understand something. Most people only asked me what I wanted, or what I planned to kill or how.
“It’s the wind hitting the mountains,” I said. “It howls when it’s angry.”
“Is it angry at us?”
For reasons I couldn’t explain, the question stung.
“No,” I rasped. “It’s angry at everything.”
She nodded solemnly as if this made perfect sense.
Two days passed, and the blizzard didn’t let up.
The cold crept in through the cave mouth, through cracks in the stone, through my scales. I’d held Perri while she slept when the fire died down. She burrowed into my chest like a hatchling, and that warmth—tiny, undeserved—kept me awake through the worst of it. Her stomach was growling loudly.
She looked at me, wide eyes brimming with apology as if hunger was a sin.
“My tummy hurts,” she whispered, curling tighter under the cloak.
This could not continue. We would have to brave the storm and leave the cave.
I stood and her head snapped up. “Where are you going?”
I knelt so we were eye level. “We must leave.”
She shook her head immediately, her fear blooming fast. “No, Veskor. The storm is too scary. Stay here. I’m OK. I don’t need food.”
Her small voice cracked on the lie. My resolve tightened.
“You do need it,” I said gruffly. “And warmth. We must go out and find both.”
My claws dug into my palms.
She swallowed, nodding slowly. “OK.”
She held her arms out and I picked her up. I wished I had something to cover her up with, but there would be nothing to shield either of us from the storm.
A tiny hand grabbed my claw. “Veskor?”
I looked down.
Her voice was barely a whisper. “We’ll be OK, right?”
“I will try,” I said and stepped into the storm.
The blizzard hit us like a living wall. Snow ripped sideways, cutting visibility to arm’s length. The wind roared in my ears, drowning out my own breath. I wrapped my wings tight to the sides to shield us the best I could, forging forward into the blinding white.
Every few steps I lost orientation.
East felt like west, and up felt like down.
If the other drakens were chasing us, they could be feet away and we wouldn’t see each other.
My claws sank deep into drifts and my scales stiffened with ice. The cold gnawed at the joints in my wings until movement hurt. Hours passed—or minutes. The storm made time meaningless. I focused on feeling Perri’s breathing and shaking against me. It at least meant she was still alive.
Keep going. One foot in front of the other.
I tried so hard. My eyes drifted shut, just for a moment as the blizzard howled louder around me.
My heartbeat slowed …
Slowed …
“VESKOR!” A blast of heat burned against my chest, jolting me.
Perri burned against me, her strawberry hair alight with tendrils of flames.
“No!” I told her. “Keep yourself warm. Do not waste your magick on me, I–”
She only burned brighter, stubbornly refusing to rein in anything.
My feet burned, but it wasn’t from heat. It was the bad kind of burn that came from too much cold. But Perri’s heat against me pushed me forward. I had to get somewhere—anywhere, before she burned herself out.
Two shadows moved through the snow.
No—three. Were those wings?
Ha, now I was seeing things.
Perri squeaked and burned so hot I nearly dropped her, but I held on tighter, refusing to drop her into a snow drift.
“Veskor?”
A voice cut through the storm—raw, unfamiliar, and incomprehensible.
Now I was hearing things as well.
“RONAN! RONAN!”
Perri screeched against me, burning hot.
My scales blistered as she slipped from my grasp, the snow around her melting before she even fell.
Flames swirled around her body, heating until they were blinding white.
Something hard hit me and I realized with a jolt what was happening—somehow, the tracking drakens had found us.
NO.
I scooped up Perri, ignoring the flames and gritting my teeth against the pain. I’d had worse.
The red draken appeared from the squall, barreling straight toward me. I dodged at the last moment with Perri in my arms, falling face first into a snowdrift.
I fought like hell to get out of it, even as Perri’s heat melted the snow around us.
“Have to fly,” I muttered wildly to no one. “Need to—”
Something hit me from behind, and my fingers and arms were too stiff to hold onto Perri, who tumbled from my arms and disappeared under a layer of white.
WHUMPF.
I went down, and, to my horror, I couldn’t get back up. My lips barely moved, words impossible. Everything hurt, and I was strangely hot in a way that had nothing to do with Perri.
“Perri! Are you all right?”
They’d found her. They would take her.
I forced myself up, diving straight toward the scent and sound of the red draken. My claws wrapped around his ankles and pulled. With an “oomph” he went down hard, and both of us scrabbled in the snow like two wild animals.
“Veskor! Ronan! NO!” Perri cried out.
She didn’t understand. If they took her away …
She was all I had. Like a possessed animal, I bit and scratched, and tried to take out his wings. If I could just get ahold of one and give it a good tear, he’d crumble screaming and—
BAM. BAM.
The world exploded as a fist caught my temple, and another one my face. My nose crumpled, hot blood pouring down my mouth.
Still I fought.
“Spitty little thing, isn’t he?” gruffed a voice, with grudging respect and annoyance.
Darkness tugged at the edge of my vision, but that only fueled the spite in me. I’d lost half the blood in my body before and still won fights. How could two punches to the face take me out?
I lashed out with my legs, catching the biggest shape in the crotch with my foot claws, and spraying everyone else in the face with snow and ice.
“SHIT!”
“Son of a—”
I flung my body away from them as hard as I could, landing at the base of a large pine tree. I dragged my body under it, trying to control my ragged breathing and praying the storm hid me.
“Where’d he go?”
“Can’t see shit in this—”
“Are you all right, sweetheart?”
My heart tore, not wanting to abandon Perri to the drakens. She was the only thing I’d ever had in this world I was proud of.
“Veskor,” Ronan called, voice carrying despite the wind. “It’s over. Give in.”
I growled from my hiding place under the tree, the very thought filling me with rage. Unfortunately, they heard me. The largest draken didn’t waste time with words. He lunged.
I moved before he reached me, rolling out from under the tree, pine needles sticking in my scales. He snorted, frustrated.
Smaller meant faster.
I twisted and ducked under his reach, using the shifting snow to my advantage. He sank where I stepped lightly. I pivoted hard and he tripped. I drove my shoulder into his side, forcing him off balance as he was unable to quickly turn under the thick tree boughs.
Another draken with gold scales came next, quicker than Canavar, and a little more precise. I saw the angle of his approach and adjusted, dropping low, letting him overshoot me. Snow sprayed as he turned sharply.
Ronan didn’t join in immediately. He watched.
“Stop this,” he said, voice harder now. “You can’t win.”
“I don’t need to win.” My breath came in harsh bursts, my arms burning as adrenaline poured through my system. “I just need to keep Perri—”
The largest draken came for me again, this time slower, and more deliberate.
I shifted my footing, letting him commit before I moved. He swung wide, expecting me to dodge the same way.
Instead, I stepped into him.
My shoulder slammed into his stomach, using his own momentum against him. He staggered back a step, just one, but it was enough.
“Oomph!”
The gold one circled behind me, cutting off retreat. Ronan stepped forward, snarling and flashing his fangs.
“Give up,” he said. “Now.”
How fucking dare he?
“No.”
His jaw tightened. “Why?”
The word cracked through the storm.
“Because she’s the only thing I’ve ever had!”
They stopped.
I scrambled back, nearly slipping into another snow bank. In the silence that followed, one sound cut through the snow.
Soft, muffled sniffing from the side. I followed their gaze to see Perri sitting in the snow, small and hunched.
She was completely covered in a layer of white, snow clinging to her lashes, her lips and her shoulders, her heat completely burned out.
Her eyes were round and red, tears streaming down her face.
She wasn’t shivering anymore as her shoulders silently shook.
Something in my chest twisted—sharp and unfamiliar.
“Perri,” Ronan said quietly.
She didn’t look up. He crouched in front of her, brushing snow from her face with a gentleness I didn’t understand. When he lifted her, she didn’t fight, but she also didn’t reach for me. She didn’t do anything at all. That twisted feeling turned into something uglier.
Hands grabbed me from behind.
The two larger drakens pinned my wings painfully between my arms and my back. I fought them automatically, twisting, trying to break free, but they locked me down hard this time—no wasted movement, no openings.
“You’re done,” the large, black one growled.
“No,” I snarled back, straining against their hold. “She’s mine.” But even that didn’t feel quite true anymore. The wind howled louder, like it wanted to swallow the moment whole.
Ah, I see you’ve found them.
My head whipped around as a newcomer entered the storm, a large lykos covered in white fur with glowing gold eyes. He came with others, his pack moving fast, efficient. They didn’t waste time. They dropped to the snow immediately, digging, carving through it with practiced coordination.
Come, we will lead you to Hoveria. She needs warmth, the large lykos said. Or didn’t say. His mouth didn’t move, but the voice was clear in my head. His furry head nodded at the two new drakens.
Ronan straightened, looking almost embarrassed toward the other drakens.
“Er, sorry, I—”
“Canavar,” grumbled the large, black one on my left.
The gold draken on my right nodded his head at the lykos. “Nasi.”
The lykos bowed his head, and his pack went to work, digging out a tunnel through the snow. I stilled, watching and calculating. If I broke free now—
“Don’t,” Nasi murmured near my ear, quieter than the others. “You won’t make it.”
He squeezed my wing and I grit my teeth, trying to ignore the fiery pain lancing through my body.
“I don’t need to make it,” I shot back. “I just need to get to her.”
Canavar snorted. “You’re not going anywhere.”
The tunnel opened before us as the lykoses disappeared through it, dark and narrow, a gaping abyss cut into the white.
“I will not come with you,” I said flatly.
Canavar snorted, shooting a look at Nasi. “Fine by me. We can leave him here.”
They both dropped me face first into the snow. For a moment, I let myself lay there, bleeding and in pain, barely feeling the cold anymore.
Ronan moved toward the tunnel with Perri. She stirred then, blue fingers curling around his bicep as her tired, hungry eyes lifted to mine.
“Veskor …” Her voice was raw, almost lost to the storm. “Please,” she whispered, tears cutting tracks through the snow on her face.
Ronan hesitated.
Canavar didn’t. “We leave him.”
He stepped over me. I lifted my head out of the snow just in time to see indecision warring on Nasi’s face.
“He won’t survive if we leave him.”
Hot denial and spite exploded in my chest.
“Yes, I would!” I grit out.
“I don’t care,” Perri cried, stronger now, struggling weakly in Ronan’s arms. “He needs to come with us! He needs help—”
“No,” I cut in, not meeting her eyes.
Whatever she was looking for—gratitude, attachment, anything—I couldn’t give it. I’d had my chance to take care of her, and I’d failed. I’d led her right into a blizzard.
“I don’t need you,” I said.
The words tasted like ash, and she flinched in Ronan’s arms like I’d struck her. Her little mouth popped open, indignation etched in every tiny feature, brows furrowed with hurt.
Good. It was better that way.
Canavar shifted on his feet. “Enough of this.”
He reached for me. I twisted again, harder this time, trying to break free, but I was too cold and my limbs too sluggish to move.
Pain exploded at the back of my skull as the world snapped sideways. The storm dimmed and Perri’s figure disappeared into black, her mouth open in a silent scream as everything went black.