Page 12 of Wings of Destruction

My father sits straight on the beast’s back without a helmet, his dark hair waving behind him and his gaze trained on the battle below. The wind steals away any words he might have said.

Lucky for both of us, there’s no need to speak, because my gut tells me it will stage a full-scale revolt if Roman so much as opens his lips. One word out of him, and I’ll lose it entirely.

Then he’ll toss me in the same mass grave as the rest.

Omram peels his lizard lips further back from impossibly sharp fangs, growling low in his throat at Mozi. A quick snap of those teeth and Mozi flares his wings to take us a few feet away and out of reach.

The general is a good match for his mount. They both have incredible anger issues and an ego the size of the continent.

Roman jerks his head toward the field. He lifts a single arm to point in the direction and shoots me off like an arrow. In the next beat, I swoop down into the heart of his ground soldiers.

Remember to keep your head. Do not let yourself get swayed by sympathy, Mozi reminds me. Try not to see them as people. They are each a step, a forward movement, and when we finish today, we execute the next phase of our plan.

Through the connection, it’s impossible for Mozi to hide his own slightly rattled nerves. Omram does that to everyone, including other dragons.

Every bit of sweat has cooled on my skin like a second layer of armor.

Flimsy armor, Mozi hisses.

I nod. My narrowed eyes dart across the field and spot an opening where our troops meet the villagers. Until now, it appears the unicorns have held their ground and kept our people from reaching the boundary of the village proper.

Fallkirk Field has become a killing zone.

I reach behind me for the holster across my spine and the two swords crossed there. They release smoothly from the leather and swing free as Mozi swoops into a steep dive. I squeeze my legs tighter.

I know what I’m doing. Your warnings are annoying, I retort. Why don’t you have anything productive to say?

Don’t die, comes his answer. Productive enough for you?

Sarcastic lizard.

The grasslands are painted in crimson. Taking it in steals the life out of me.

The basilisk and hydras have done their duty and cut a wedge-shaped advance into the unicorn herd. Several fallen steeds lie in the clover with their eyes open, their limbs bent at unnatural broken angles. Others are frozen in place with their coats the same matching stone gray. From life to garden ornaments in a blink.

Their riders are shattered dolls with their pieces strewn around awkwardly.

Before my heart breaks any more, Mozi lets out a roar, ducking low enough for the bony tips of his leathery wings to skim the grass. The other dragons remain in the air, suspended, watching. We’re the only ones at ground level.

I join him in a yell until my throat burns and meet the oncoming slice of a horn with a thrust of sword. Steel meets horn with a clang. The unicorn’s rider is decked in gold-plated armor.

I should be riding high with my father. Instead⁠—

Punishment.

A flexing of muscle simply because he can, because he thinks I’m not living up to his exacting standards. I grit my teeth, straining despite the way my muscles warm with the well-practiced defensive maneuvers.

Instead, I’m down in the battle, fighting people who are just trying to defend their homes and livelihoods.

Mozi pulls up and draws me away from the rider before slapping his tail into the unicorn’s hock. The steed goes down and a nearby basilisk swoops in, sinking curved fangs into flesh.

Don’t act like you’re not impacted by this, I tell Mozi. It’s wrong. There is no other way to paint this picture.

Mozi cranes his head around, his amber eyes boring holes through me. Black smoke curls toward the spines along his neck and the slight crest of horns at his skull. He’s small, young, but steadfast in his determination.

I chose you because of your fierce morality and strategic mind, Kieran. Not because I enjoy the way you focus on emotion, he replies. Emotions are a liability at this point. There will be time for them later.

You’re mad because I’m observing you and you want to be all Powerful Dragon and pretend your heart is unfeeling.