But it was the figure at the dragon’s feet that held me.
Nienna.
She sat wrapped in a dark blue shawl, a thin laced nightdress beneath. Her expression froze when she saw me. She scrambled to stand as the beast above her lowered its head, sparks shedding from its jaws.
I flexed my fingers. No sword. No shield. Not even a stick.
Nienna whispered to it, one hand stroking its rigid jaw. The dragon snorted, baring her fangs, then tucked them away. She turned, coiling around a cluster of eggs—massive, rough-shelled, and still.
What monsters would claw out of those?
Nienna grinned and tip-toed through the cracked bones, her pale feet bare. I scoffed at her recklessness, scanning the sharp debris. The floor was jagged, scattered with broken remains—femurs thicker than my arm, splintered in two. Shells as wide as shields littered the black rock.
“Why—how are you here?” she asked, breathless, voice low. She clutched her shawl tight across her chest.
Gods, that dragon studied me as if I were a snack. “Your father dropped me off and wished for the best.”
She beamed, all affection and relief. “He brought you to me.” Her posture eased as she stepped beside me, leaning into my side. “They’re close to hatching. She won’t let anyone else in.”
“Not even your father?” I asked, flicking a glance toward Argos still crouched at the ledge, keeping his distance.
“Not even the king.”
“Yet she allows you to sit at her feet?”
“She sees me as her wingless babe,” she said, resting her head on my shoulder. “I’m always welcome.”
“And I am… tonight’s appetizer?”
She laughed, fingers curling around my arm. “She’ll tolerate you because I ask. But this is as far as I’ll risk you.” Her voice softened. “Dragons are volatilewhen their young hatch. Vulnerable. And dangerous. Kalepsi doesn’t have a rider, so she’s bound to kill anything that moves. Man or dragon.”
“Hence the distance from her mate?”
“She only tolerates him because of his size,” she said, grinning. “Otherwise, she’d chase him off, too.”
“Compassionate creatures,” I muttered.
For sentient beings, Nienna was right. Without riders, they acted on instinct. Brilliant minds, no temperance. No mercy.
I frowned, pulling her closer. “And the Wild Shores? No riders there.”
She nodded, gaze fixed on Kalepsi as the dragon released a croon—low, guttural, and deep enough to vibrate the floor beneath our feet. Loose pebbles rattled.
Perhaps that was why the dragons didn’t stay. They would have to fight for territory there. Those dragons—feral, cunning, without empathy—wouldn’t reason or listen. Not like the ones here.
We waited, lost in our thoughts, as the sun began to rise.
In Radaan, the sunsets were a thing of beauty. Watching the sun dip below the golden fields after a long day of work—it was beautiful and inspiring. But here, in Draconia, it was the sunrises that brought the world to its knees.
We stayed curled together, my back against cold stone, Nienna tucked in my lap. Her cheek pressed to my chest, my chin on her golden hair. The scent of waterlilies clung to her skin. Lace brushed my thumb as I held her waist.
Our words were soft. Fragments of a conversation between lovers, drifting like smoke. No titles. No weight. Just her. Just me.
Then–
A crack.
Nienna bolted upright with a gasp, her elbow digging into my ribs. Her shawl slipped, falling from her shoulders and baring her back.
