I frown, turning in his arms to look up into his eyes—dark in the low light. Líri’s bright silhouette reflects off them as he watches her.
His gaze flicks down, meeting mine with crushing intensity. “You left her, Raeve.”
My blood turns to ice. “I—”
“In your mind, the reasoning might’ve been sound, but dragons understand things in very simple tones. To her, you were there one dae, caring for her … a safe space for her to rest her head. The next, you were gone, and she was back to being just as lonely as she’s ever been.”
Something in my chest gives way, a sudden coldness seeping through. Like I just got stomped.
Another screeched roar as Líri tears through the clouds with impressive gusto for one so tired and worn.
“That dragon was so close to death when Rekk flew her into Dhomm, I was almost certain she was going to die. I believe she only clung to life because of the kindness you showed her. In fact, she released such a deep lament not long after you left that we thought she’d reopened her wounds before the runes had a chance to settle.”
The words land like a volley of kicks, making it hard to breathe.
His hold on me softens, one hand coming up to tuck my hair back off my face. Such a gentle contrast to his firm words. “Though some dragons lust for vengeance in the same way as a bloodlusting fae, others simply yearn to beloved.”
Creators.
Líri tosses her head to the sky and loosens a serrated roar unlike anything I’ve heard before—like a call to the moons. She tucks her wings and dives, swooping into the gorge.
Kaan loosens his hold, and I move forward.
Sensing the presence of something above, I glance up, seeing Rygun’s head arched over the ledge, his ember eyes pinned on the commotion below like a mighty sentinel scouring his lands.
I shiver despite my swelling love for the beast, pausing near the edge. Clode whips my hair about as I look down on the village far below.
Smoke chugs from the pointed, snow-dusted roofs, swirling around Líri while she hovers above the island I took refuge on, looking like a sowmoth fluttering above a boulder from all the way up here. She fills her chestwith breath, expelling it with a plume of pale-blue flame that blasts me full of panic—villagers screaming.
Creators, she’s going to destroy the place …
The plume mushrooms, smashing into the body of land with such roaring force I expect it to explode like the bridge did. Except I hear no sounds of shattering stone. See no chunks of it tossed into the river through the billow of mist gusting from the impact, clouding the quaint, colorful buildings in waves of white.
The flame loses any remaining color, turning a stark white that coalesces into a …a—
“She’s building a nesting perch.”
A hexagonal structure begins to take shape, much like the many I have …within.
Deep in my Other’s den.
A thought I’m quick to dash away, watching Líri pause to circle her sprouting pillar, taking big bouts of breath before she hovers directly above and reconvenes her efforts—blowing another burst of white flame.
Adding another layer.
“Surely she’s not broody. She’s barely beyond adolescence.”
“No,” Kaan murmurs from right behind me. “She just wants to be high.”
My heart drops as I hear every word he’snotsaying.
She wants to be somewhere I can’t reach her …
“She’s likely tired from her flight across the plains and needs to rest before her journey south,” he says, gripping my chin and turning my head so I’m looking right into his earnest eyes. “If you want her, Raeve, it won’t be easy.”
I search his gaze for a long while. Look forward again, watching Líri add layer upon layer to her swiftly growing perch.
If I want her …
