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I couldn’t think. I couldn’t move, I could only feel my insides twisting excruciatingly without knowing if he was still alive. The need to get back to him, was as fierce as my need to make sure he was safe.
Luna’s wings moved so swiftly they almost blurred from my vision, veering through valleys, and rising over mountains… taking me to him. My hand stroked her neck softly, willing her to know that I loved her more than anything in this world, and I was sorry for what transpired between us.
The majestic creature had been with my mother since the uprising, and after I lost her, Luna chose me as her new companion, making our relationship mean so much more. She wasn’t just a Dragon, or a ride for me, she was my last connection to my mom, and I appreciated her more than I was able to express.
A soft rumbling cursed through her chest, vibrating under me in response, and I knew it was her way of saying she loved me too. Taking a settling breath, I forced my pulse to calm, searching the land for any sight of the Elevated Warriors, and Braxton. I wasn’t anywhere near the green lands so I dared to hope that somehow, they would be okay, and on their way back.
Nevertheless, if they were camouflaged, I wouldn’t be able to spot them until we were close enough for the magic linking all riders to interact, allowing me to see them again.
Wild wings tussled my long hair every which way while I glanced all around us, it had fallen loose from the long braid when the warriors and I were doing our aerial drills, but fortunately, the smaller side braids remained in place, keeping the hair out of my eyes.
The horizon before me suddenly shimmered, and six large forms came into view. Before I could sigh in relief, my heart lurched in my chest, noticing that Ember and Alkor—Penelope and Elijah’s Dragons—flew side by side while nestling Fulgur, Arlo’s ride, between them. Her blue companion was wounded and bleeding, but seemed well enough to fly while Arlo sat safely in front of Elijah.
My frantic eyes shifted to find Athina and Spyke—Asher’s and Harper’s Dragons—carrying a half-conscious Spartan, and my stomach dropped.
“Braxton!” I shouted anxiously, urging Luna to fly faster to meet them. She veered left when she reached the others, going around the group for us to get a better look. Only then did I notice that Braxton was still straddling Kingston’s Dragon. He seemed fine.
Sweet air returned to my lungs, yet as I got closer, I noticed him holding his right arm to his chest. His coat was ripped, and half the arm shield gone. When Luna slowed her pace, hovering next to Athina, I jumped, landing on the red Dragon’s back.
“What happened?” I yelled over the breeze, running towards Asher.
“I take full responsibility,” he uttered first, standing to face me. “Azazel was alone, and without the Warlock King in sight, I made the decision to try to take him down.”
Processing his statement, I nodded, my gaze more carefully assessing our warriors. “Is everyone okay?”
“Azazel’s claws slashed Fulgur’s side, but the wounds were not deep enough to permanently hinder him. He should be fine within a few days, he just needs rest. Arlo is unharmed.”
“What happened to Spartan?” I asked, careful not to give away the anxiousness growing in me with the sight of Braxton. Being this close to him, I could see his head hung low, and he was slightly swaying on Spartan’s back.
“Braxton and I took on distracting the beast so the warriors could attack from the other sides, but the plan wasn’t as successful as we hoped. We split afterwards, and Azazel began to pursue Braxton while I dove for his heart. I thought that maybe Athina’s horns could get under his scales and pierce it.” He shook his head, regret filtering into his expression. “I slashed part of his chest but wasn’t able to kill him. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“The same thing I would have thought,” I assured. “You saw an opportunity to destroy Raithian’s greatest weapon against us, and took a chance. I would have done the same.”
He nodded appreciatively and focused on Braxton, a grave and confused gleam entering his eyes. “Azazel struck Spartan with such rage that the blow instantly made him lose consciousness and he began to fall. They tumbled down the sky so hard and fast that the rider’s shield couldn’t withstand it. It burst into pieces. Braxton held on fiercely, but his arm dislocated. Thankfully, Athina and Spyke dove to catch them just in time, but he might have torn a few muscles.”
My stomach trembled with inconceivable worry and the strength it took to remain calm as the image formed in my mind. I forced myself to keep my emotions in check in front of the others. I had no idea why I was so irrational, but all I wanted was to rush to Braxton, weeping like a mad woman, and get him out of there.
“Why did Azazel stop his attack on Spartan?” I asked instead. “How were you able to escape?”
A perplexing emotion expanded over Asher’s expression. “I would rather wait to answer that question once the Chief is with us, if that is okay with you, Princess. That is something he needs to hear.”
His voice rang with the gravity of the situation so I nodded. “That is fine with me.” Glancing at Braxton, my gut tightened. “I’ll check on him now.”
“Of course.”
Giving my back to the commander, I carefully made my way onto Spartan, not wanting to upset his state any further, and walked towards his neck. “Braxton?” I called, seeing his head fallen over his chest, eyes closed.
“Evie?” he replied in a strained voice, his gaze lifting to search for me. “Are you okay?”
Seriously? He was askingmeif I was okay? “I’m fine. How much does it hurt?”
“It’s numb right now,” he replied, his eyes finally settling on me, but the strain on his features spoke differently. He wasn’t fooling anyone, he was in agony.
“Okay, come with me. Luna is right there.”
Lifting his other arm, I wrapped it around my shoulders and helped him stand, taking part of his weight on me. A few grunts escaped him while we made our way to Athina, then crossed Luna’s wing like a bridge until he could sit on her back.
“Is Spartan well?” he asked when I sat next to him, holding his hand. “Kingston is going to kill me.”
