BAM.
She hit my chest, blinking up at me with big eyes, blue as lightning. They filled with tears as she trembled, clutching onto me like I was her father.
Like she saw me.
“Hi,” she whispered.
My breath hitched.
She reached up and touched my cheek with a tiny claw. Her hand was soft and warm, and something I hadn’t felt in centuries. Or … ever?
“Hello,” I said softly, voice breaking in a way I despised.
She giggled—actually giggled—and wrapped her little arms around my neck.
There was only one answer my instincts offered: I had found her. She was mine, now.
A darker voice followed:They don’t deserve her.Only you do. They do not even notice her absence.
I looked down at the island and at the celebration. These drakens had barred me from my home and a mate. They had forgotten the old ways, the sacred ways, and allowed a precious child to wander away into danger.
They didn’t need her.
They didn’t deserve her.
But a child—this child—could be raised into strength. Into truth. Into a lineage worthy of the old blood. She wasmine.
“I could kill you,” I murmured, not to her, but to the part of myself that still understood cruelty.
I lifted her chin, studied her features, and her upturned nose. Her hair was a pale red, almost strawberry color.
“I could,” I said again.
She smiled at me, as if it were all a big joke. And the idea died.
“Hmph,” I grumbled to no one.
She leaned into my chest with trust so pure it nearly shattered me.
“I will take you,” I whispered. “You will come with me. You will be mine.”
A shadow swept across the sky, nearing us. I snarled and curled her into my chest as bronze wings bore down on us.
Another male draken, but not her father. I could tell from the scent.
For the first time in my life, I had something someone else wanted. It was exhilarating, and I would not give her up so easily.
“Time to leave,” I murmured.
She cooed and nuzzled my chest, happy at the prospect of an adventure.
The draken landed on the rock below us with a skidding spray of volcanic dust, eyes wide with relief first at seeing the child, then shifting to horror as he took me in.
“NO!” he screamed.
Too late.
I stepped back toward the crack in the wards, the child pressed to my chest, with power humming under my skin as I prepared to vanish with her into the night. He was smaller than me. He would not be a challenge.
