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“He said she was going back to the island to ask the queen for permission to return with us. And that she was going to ask the queen to initiate me. I was of age.” He drew a deep breath. “And then she called him, told him to keep me safe and that it was important they never find out about me.”
“Never?”
He shook his head.
Usually they were frantic to find the male dragonlings as children, to do the initiation themselves to establish dominance and loyalty. They lost some interest once that time passed. There was less value, less effort, put into finding the offspring. Unless they were important. Very important.
“Jori, did your mother tell your father who your sire was?” Kymri’s heart began to hammer in her chest as her stomach dropped.
“No, but Dad said she was terrified they’d find me.”
It couldn’t be what she was thinking. It just couldn’t.
And yet, Elora was going to ask the queen to initiate him, rather than just do it herself, or ask Odson to do it.
The queen might have decided to have him executed instead.
Kymri’s breath stalled. She still might.
“Jori, you can’t go home with me.”
“I know, you said I wouldn’t be welcome.”
“They’d very likely kill you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re their enemy,” a voice said.
Kymri whirled around. They were so focused on their discussion; she hadn’t heard anything else. She hadn’t heard the approach of the two men blocking the mouth of the alley. One looked like a boxer who lost a lot of fights, the other was so average her eyes nearly slid right past him.
“Who the hell are you?” Jori demanded.
“Friends, lad. Just friends come to take you home.”
“Fuck.” Kymri said, gaining a startled glance from Jori. One of the men took a step forward and she darted between him and Jori with a snarl. “Get back.”
She called on her magic, preparing to shift.
“Oh no, you don’t,” the other male said, running forward faster than she could gather her magic. An iron circlet closed over her left wrist as the other male enclosed her right with its match.
She groaned with strain as her magic dissipated. “Jori, run,” she panted.
“Too late for that, lass.”
The last thing she saw was the heel of a heavy boot before her world went dark.
“Kymri!” Jori roared, “Don’t you fucking touch her.”
“Come on now, lad, just stay calm, it’s best for all of us if you just come along.”
“Fuck you,” he spat, bringing his fists up as he stepped closer to Kymri’s inert form on the damp ground.
“How sweet, he’s defending his little dragoness,” the other said, “She must be a good rut.”
“Be careful, lad, you’re going to get yourself hurt.”
Jori’s fist swung, connecting with the jaw of the man reaching for Kymri. “I told you not to fucking touch her.”
