I step forward as they begin to file around the corner, intent on shifting quietly past when the tall folk shoves out his arm, widening his stance.
Blocking my way like a fucking tree trunk.
It takes him a moment to register my dragonscale blade nudged against his abdomen, but when he does, he frowns—thick brows shadowing flat brown eyes.
“You going into that Moonplume’s burrow?” he grumbles, standing staunch despite his obvious exhaustion and the fact that he smells like he hasn’t bathed in daes.
I nod.
“Aren’t you the one she came at the moment we got her through the clouds?”
“In the living, breathing flesh,” I mutter, flashing a joyless smile as my stomach releases a hungry, rather embarrassing growl.
Poor timing.
“Well, given she charged you with more ferocity than she chargedanythingshe hunted on our way here …”—he pauses, raising both brows—“should you make it into the burrow, you’ll most likely not come out alive.”
As far as pep talks go, this falls flat.
“That dragon’s more wild than tame,” he continues. “We tried to remove her saddle so she’s not stuck with the thing when she no doubt takes off for Netheryn, but she’s having none of it. Rigg almost lost a limb. You’ll lose your life.”
He moves past me without another word, the other two following—Rigg’s arm bleeding all over the snow. They’re not even out of earshot before they start muttering between themselves aboutsome folk being too stupid to live.
Bit harsh, but given the current circumstances, not entirely unfair.
I tuck my blade away, then stuff my mouth full of snow. Zero sustenance, but it stops my gut from rumbling loud enough to wake a sleeping dragon. Or in my case,startleone with pristine hearing and a sudden appetite for blasting me to death.
I creep toward the burrow’s jagged mouth that’s emitting a soft luminosity, stepping over trampled twigs and feathers frosted white. Edging forward, I peer down the tunnel’s long throat, my heart hitching at the sight of Líri tucked against a litter of old uprooted trees.
She’s bound in a defensive knot, teeth bared as she saws through labored breaths, eyes homed on me withscathingintensity.
I see exhaustion in the droop of her trembling wings, barely holding against her body. See it in the tendrils about her jowls and down the line of her neck, limp and lacking their usual luster. Like a fading star.
Oh, Líri …
Lifting my hands, I edge forward a step—
She snarls, the rough sound echoing off the walls. So tangible the ligaments in my chest tighten.
Definitely pissed at me.
“Hais te nel, Líri.”I slide another foot forward.“Shuin oot an pleur, leonari-eh. Ze lui, ze lui …”
Her hackles rise, wings lift. The only warning I get before she charges forward, so much chagrin in her eyes, I’m momentarily frozen.
I open my mouth to speak—
Someone grabs me from behind. Rips me back.
I’m swathed in Kaan’s scent, crushed against his chest—his arm binding around me as Líri gallops past, releasing an icy screech. She leaps off the ledge and slashes her luminous wings through the dumping snow, nipping glances at me.
At Kaan.
She doesn’t resume her lethal attacks. Likely because of the male behind me, radiating a knee-buckling amount of primal dominance.
“I think she’s angry at me …”
Kaan’s hand flattens over my rapidly beating heart. “Yes,” he says, smooth. Matter of fact.
