My palm struck his arm. The sound cracked in the quiet, and he laughed, pulling me closer until my head rested against his shoulder.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you today,” he said, softer now. “They move so storming fast—I’m not used to fighting them.”
A chill traced my spine despite Gyrak’s heat. “I don’t know how Kallias does it.” He fought them with ease, movements clean and efficient, as if he were sparring another man insteadof something borne from nightmare. He made it look effortless, like child’s play.
“Years of practice, I’d say. He was probably fighting them before you were born.”
“Ronan!” I kicked his foot.
Gyrak released a low, displeased moan, eyes closed, tail twitching once against the stone.
“Hush,” Ronan murmured, patting the dragon’s foreleg. “My hard-working dragon is sleeping.”
Darkness hid my smile. Annoyance and affection lived side by side when it came to my brother. His insolence grated on me as often as it comforted. Yet moments like this were rare and fragile. One day he would be gone, swallowed by duty or distance, and I would ache for this simple understanding.
Between two dragons and beneath a sky full of stars, with Ronan’s arm heavy around my shoulders and Gyrak’s warmth at my back, the tightness in my chest eased.
At last, I let sleep claim me.
Chapter Forty-Five
Nienna
“This is Nanny!” The girl squealed, lifting a small puff of a goat. Long white hair stood on its end, static and wild, two narrow ears jutting through the fluff at crooked angles that made the poor thing look perpetually startled.
“Bred for the hair, no doubt.” I laughed and reached down to pet the creature. The wool was dense beneath my palm, lanolin and hay clinging to my skin. Its mouth split open in a piercing bleat, sharp as a kettle’s shriek, and I jerked back with a cringe.
“That means she likes you!” The girl hugged the fluff to her chest, rocking on her heels, pride glowing across her face.
“And this is Llewellyn!” Another goat was thrust toward me, a spotted brown and white kid with delicate legs and a twitching pink nose.
“Lewelin?” I repeated, rolling the name around my mouth.
“No, Llewellyn!” The child shrieked, laughter bursting from her like birds scattering. “She’s going to be our herd matriarch. Our main doe!”
“She’s beautiful.” I studied the creature while I spoke. One eye glimmered blue as glacier ice. The other burned yellow—late harvest wheat. Horizontal pupils tracked my every shift, calm yet alert, a quiet calculation behind them.
I wasn’t about to try that name again.
A few steps away, a little black kid pawed at the stone. I crouched and tilted my head, examining the blue sheen in his eyes. He snorted, sharp and indignant, reminding me of a sassy dragonling in the Nest.
“And who’s this?”
“He doesn’t have a name.” The girl dropped beside me, wrapping her arms around the black buckling’s sturdy middle. “He was a stray we took in when the siege started.” She turned saucer-wide eyes on me, teeth flashing in a grin that showed a missing incisor. “You name him!”
I frowned at the kid, pressing my lips together. His coat was sleek—and far warmer than the wind that skimmed the mountain paths. “But what if he already has one?”
“Then you’ll come up with something better. Anyone would be honored to have a goat named by Queen Nienna.”
Off to the side, Fallione stood with his lips pressed tight, a smirk fighting to break free. Amusement lingered in the set of his shoulders. He enjoyed this far too much.
I had expected resistance when I proposed walking the secured levels, mingling with the outer rings of Sol. Instead, he agreed. With guards stationed and my brother nearby, it was safe enough. As long as I remained within reach of dragon shadow and flame, my presence could serve its purpose.
Bring hope to the people.
Pebbles skittered across our path. Above us, Tsunami crouched along the marble edge, claws biting into pale rock, tail spearing toward the Andeluith’s peak. A low snort drifted down,warm and sulfur-tinged. Her eyes narrowed at the goats before flaring wide with intrigue.
“Dragonbait,” I said, laughter slipping through.
