Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
“I AM brEATHING,” she snapped.
“No,” he corrected gently. “You are wheezing rage.”
I tried to step back. Ten warriors stepped forward. I was going to die. Again.
Always. My gaze found Queen Wren, who looked at me and burned with rage.
“Down,” she said quietly, but every male draken—including myself—was slammed to the ground, unable to move. Even Benedict. The breath was knocked out of my lungs.
The females hovered uncertainly.
Kaida landed behind her, wings rattling the stalactites. “Someone explain before she faints again.”
“I DO NOT FAINT,” Wren growled.
Benedict raised his hand from his spot on the ground. “She faints sometimes.”
“BENEDICT!” Wren yelled.
“M’just saying—”
“BENEDICT!”
He shut up, whether by choice or force, it was unclear.
Kaida strolled right up to me, sniffed my face like an irritated aunt checking if I’d rolled in something dead, then announced, “He smells like rope and panic, not mating. Calm down.”
Wren winced, holding her stomach. “I am not in the mood for bullshit.”
Enya scuffed her claws in the dirt. The reclusive females radiated irritation. “We’ve been trying to tell them.”
Nerissa blinked. “Tell them what—?”
“We sparred,” Mara said.
“And he didn’t try to mate us,” Yazmine added.
“Not even a little,” Mara said cheerfully. “He’s practically a monk.”
I sputtered through the blood dripping down my nose. “I am NOT!”
The entire island turned to stare at me.
I reconsidered. “… I don’t THINK I am.”
Wren sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of her nose with the weariness of a mother who had birthed twins and was now dealing with a full-grown island of idiots. “OK. Everyone calm down. If Veskor wanted to mate someone, we would know. He’s loud.”
My entire face burst into flames. “I’m not—!”
“LOUD,” Kieran emphasized helpfully. “Very loud. Like when he swallowed that crab wrong—”
“You promised never to speak of that,” I growled.
Kaida slapped my shoulder so hard I stumbled. “Relax. You’re fine.”
Wren took a deep breath. “You all may rise. If you promise to act like adults, and not restless draklings. And fucking apologize to Veskor for beating the shit out of him.”
I twitched, uncomfortable with the very notion of an apology. Canavar stepped forward, exhaling a long, pained breath.
“I told him he could get rope alone. I didn’t know the unmated females lived here. This is my fault.” His eyes met mine. “I am sorry.”
Nerissa glared. “You moron.”
“Yes,” Canavar agreed without hesitation.
Nerissa threw her hands up. “I’ve mated an idiot.”
“Yes,” he repeated, smiling.
She groaned. The tension drained from the air—slowly, reluctantly—but it drained. The fighters backed off. The fire dimmed. The claws lowered.
“Benedict. We’re waiting,” Wren snarled.
He only hesitated a moment before moving toward me. I flinched on instinct, but he only held out his claws.
“I am sorry. Though if the females are right, I would like to spar with you. For fun,” he hurriedly added, shooting Wren a look.
Wren shook her head and muttered, “Drakens. I swear I need hazard pay.” Then she burst out laughing.
And just like that the danger passed.
But the strangest part? The reclusive females stepped closer. Not defensively, or even curiously. But approvingly.
“You’re strong,” Enya said simply.
“And fast,” Yazmine added.
“And adorable when startled,” Mara concluded.
I blinked. I had fought lions and dragons and men with spears. I had survived starvation and storms and blood sports. But nothing had ever confused me more than three females smiling at me like that.
I swallowed hard, rubbing the back of my neck.
“I—liked—sparring,” I admitted slowly. “With you.”
The three of them smiled wider, satisfied.
Kaida elbowed me. “See? You don’t want mates. You want equals. A draken male ahead of his time.” She glared at a few of the unmated males, who squirmed under her judgement. “SOME MALES could learn from that.”
I froze.
Something inside me shifted like a blade realigning.
She was right.
I wasn’t drawn to them the way males should be. I wasn’t trying to breed. I wasn’t chasing heat or scent or instinct. I liked that they were strong, skilled, and fearless. That terrifying need inside of me, that clawed at my sanity and drove me crazy, loosened a bit.
For once in my life, I wasn’t the only weapon in the room. And it felt good. Freeing.
Nerissa clapped her hands abruptly, scaring half the cave.
“OK! Misunderstanding cleared. Veskor didn’t try to mate the recluses or anyone. But next time—” She stabbed a finger at me. “Send a message. Or a scream. Or throw a rock. Something.”
I nodded fervently. “Yes. I will throw rocks.”
Canavar groaned. “Not literally.”
“Yes literally,” Nerissa corrected. “Hit whoever you need to.”
Nerissa whirled around to her younger daughter Nava, who cowered under her much shorter mother. “You animal! I know back on our island we give out distress calls like candy, but not here! Not after what these drakens have been through!”
The two of them started arguing instantly.
Wren rubbed her temples. “I’m going back to bed.”
Kaida followed her. “I’ll help you. Those little ones will be coming any day now!”
Benedict hovered anxiously after them. Under my feet, the ground rumbled again. Hadn’t they said the volcano was dormant?
I glanced around, but if anyone else had noticed it, they weren’t saying anything.
Kieran sighed. “I need a drink.”
When everyone finally began to disperse, Enya gave me one last long look.
“You did well,” she said.
I didn’t know what to do with the warmth that flooded my chest. So I bowed my head.
And for the first time since the fighting pits, I felt like maybe—maybe—I wasn’t so alone.