Page 118 of Why Broken Wings Fray

“The Bringer of Evil must die at long last before she fouls the heart of our King!”

Beautiful words. True poetry. If I wasn’t so busy fighting to find purchase with my own two feet, I might have clapped for him.

Urram didn’t think so highly of his words, though. He launched himself forward, his maw ripped wide, and released a roar meant to warn but likely killed a few people from the power at which it pulsed through skulls.

“Red Fury!” Urram bellowed. “You will have your caraid control his subjects or I shall set fire to every last one of them. Beginning with the King himself.”

Gliocas let out an equally as disturbing noise before leaping forward, a mass of red in the sky that prefaced the thundering vibration of the ground beneath me. “Silver Wrath! Old friends, we might be, but none shall threaten my caraid and live to tell the tale.”

If I was learning anything about the dragons, it was that the minute they turned to calling one another by strange, tortured titles instead of their mere names, nothing good was going to come of it.

“Urram!” I squealed, managing to kick one Rachainn in the face – somewhat by accident. “Do not fight, Urram! It is not worth it!”

My dragon was one stubborn asshole because he did not listen to me.

Urram and Gliocas moved towards one another, powering themselves into the charge with their hind legs, both wings splayed out to the sides just as their maws ripped wide and embers glowed deep within their throats.

Cluaineach was going to burn, because a dragon fight kicked off before my very eyes.

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Urram was bigger in that he was wider, his wings were longer, his body contained more muscle. Everything about him was powerful, twice as powerful as Gliocas who was slimmer and more serpent like in his movements. The problem with being larger and heavier, though, was that it gave the smaller dragon the advantage.

The two of them ascended. A powerful launch from the ground, two matching craters where they had begun their fight, and the beating of their wings were all signs of the climb that they made into the air. For a moment, every single pixie stopped what they were doing, just to watch.

What a horrific sight it was. I was sure that to the others, it was a mesmerizing sight. The dance-like way that they moved through the air, the quick and tense ways that they snapped away from outstretched talons or approaching fangs, it was nothing more than a beautiful display of true agility and athleticism. But to me, it was none of those things. It was simply horrible, because, as Killian had once warned me, there was no good outcome with a dragon fight. Only blood, shattered bone, and torn flesh would bring an end to what we were watching.

Killing Gliocas would destroy Raegan.

Killing Urram would destroy me.

There was no side of this that would leave anyone victorious.

So I wailed, thrashing against unfriendly hands that held me back, and cried my begs to the gods above for them to interject and stop the fight.

Red circled grey, grey blurred around red. Urram’s attacks were tremendous, the skies booming every time his jaw slammed shut and he managed only air. Gliocas’ attacks were swift, the wind whistling each time his talons sliced through cloud and came away empty.

“Raegan,” I pleaded, daring to tear my eyes off of them for only a second to see him staring up with just as much horror in his eyes. “You must stop them!”

His head shook slowly, a ghostly hue to his skin as his eyes refused to blink. “There will be no stopping them, now.”

A snap echoed across the world and I braced myself as I looked up. There was no deciding whether I was relieved or terrified when I saw that it was Urram, his mouth wrapped tightly around one of the boney limbs that spread down Gliocas’ leathered wing. The red beast roared in agony as he swung around, snapping his teeth over and over at Urram who locked his jaw and refused to give an inch.

Gliocas, desperate and still screaming in pain, tucked his back legs close to his body and kicked them out, catching Urram’s chest and sending them away from one another. One of his hooked talons much have caught Urram’s hide, because a small wound tore open and blood started to drip from the sky.

“No! No, please! Stop!”

Gliocas took chase, his wings beating rapidly, his body slithering to increase his speed, and then he locked onto Urram’s tail and bit into the end of it. My powerful caraid let out a heart-shattering cry as the bone along his tail could be heard through the crunch that almost sounded like the sky cracking open before rain poured down.

Brian used the dragon fight to his advantage, rising to his feet finally and finding me amongst the masses. He grabbed the back of my neck, freeing me from the rest of the Rachainn, only to slide me along the ground and stop before Raegan.

There, he put a knife to my throat.

“Pick now, King Raegan,” Brian hissed just as the skies above turned grey. Grey like approaching death, like the smoke that rose from the aftermath of a battle we had not yet started.

Raegan bristled as he looked down from what was occurring above and saw that knife to my throat. Everything about him changed. Everything about him erupted.