Page 13 of The Dragons’ Eternal Mate

“I wanted to—but things here were… not great. I knew Bastian would get you home.”

“In a weird way, it’s good that I went there because it meant I could bring back the stuff Kiki used on my burns.”

He raised his brows. “That is good. You don’t have that stuff here?”

“Some of it, but Kiki spent years building her healing stash. One of the roots she uses only grows in the desert and is best used fresh. Cormack, the new healer there, let me raid the place before we flew back.”

“That’s nice of him. We’ll have to send a thank you or something.”

“How are you? The guys mentioned you’ve been holding things down.”

Griffin let out a low whistle. “It’s been brutal. Some of the older dragons have fucked-up opinions, blaming—” He quickly stopped talking.

“Let me guess”—I rolled my eyes, a headache beginning its steady trek upward again—“blaming me for everything?”

Griffin grimaced. “They are the vocal minority, I promise you. Half the horde is at the den, waiting for news.”

My brows shot up. “That’s a tight squeeze. Well, I’ll sleep here at the clinic. There’s no point in me going back to the den.”

“That may be for the best. Once Ma is on the mend, everything will get better—your guys won’t allow anyone to talk shit about you⁠—”

“Damn straight, we won’t,” Orsen cut in, and I smiled at him. Of anyone, he had the most right to hate me, but he didn’t. It was undeniably comforting.

“I should get back.”

“I’ll bring you some snacks and drinks. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask…” Griffin nodded, but he paused a few steps away. “I imagine this is bringing up a lot of the past, so just remember, we’re all here for you.”

Resounding agreement rumbled through the dragons around me.

I grimaced, still feeling like I’d let everyone down. “I really hoped to never smell dragon-fire-burned flesh again, but I can’t change what’s happened. Ma will get better, though.”

Turning to Orsen, I met his stare hard, unwavering.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure it.”

Orsen

Three days.

I had been sitting at my mother’s bedside for three days while Rowan worked tirelessly to heal her, that salve so much more valuable than I could ever have imagined.

Ma was finally starting to stabilize, but I refused to sleep anywhere other than next to her. I still didn’t know what Cyrus was up to. I wasn’t risking her life again.

“Orsen, I know this isn’t a good time… but we need to talk,” Griffin said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder as he found me in the clinic.

My mother had been in and out of consciousness. It was obvious she was in a lot of pain, so Rowan had been giving her some strong herbal painkillers, which kept her pretty out of it.

“What?” I shot a look at Griff, silently agreeing that this was not the fucking time.

He grimaced. “There is a scout from Birch Creek here. They are insisting on a meeting.”

“Why the fuck would I want to talk to any of them?” I growled, too tired and stressed to be dealing with some other dragons’ problems.

“Trust me, I don’t want to talk to them, either. But I get the feeling they’re not going away, and I refuse to admit why you’d rather be here at the moment. I don’t want them to know we are weak.”

I nodded with a prolonged sigh. He was right. Even while we’d been falling apart, dealing with Rowan leaving and Ma being injured, Griffin had been holding the horde together. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be good enough for a snob like Byron, not that I wanted to give that idiot anything.

“Good thinking.” I looked at Ma, squeezing her hand. “I need someone here with her, though, if I’m going to go.”