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“Kai…” the Master repeated, tentatively testing the name on his tongue, his disturbing, swirling eyes lighting upon Kai again.
“So that is what you are called.”
“You don’t even know his name?” Ere seemed to take affront on Kai’s behalf at this.
Kai didn’t know why he should care, when Kai himself didn’t. So the Master treated him like a disposable weapon. So what?
It was no more or less than what he was. It was why he was created in the first place.
The Master shrugged.
“He is simplylong-erto me, one of the many dragonlings under my care.”
“Care” was quite the euphemism, in Kai’s view.
“But how did he get here?” Ere persisted while Kai stood by and watched them lob verbal volleys back and forth like the human sport of tennis Miss Seventh told him about.
“How didyouget here?” the Master answered with another question. “Fate has its ways.”
Ere rounded on Kai next, stepping into his personal space. They were nearly eye to eye in human form, but Kai was an inch or two taller, the same height as the golden warrior who remained at Ere’s side. Always within reach.
They looked like a packaged deal.
“Why don’t you say something? Don’t you care when you’re the subject of conversation? Aren’t you curious how you got here?”
Kai regarded the man who claimed to know him impassively.
What did it matter how, why, when or where? He was existing and breathing at the moment. He would set out on a mission during which he’d take his pleasures where he could. Then pit his strength and prowess in a glorious battle (or battles, if fortune smiled upon him), and die a magnificent death.
That’s all he needed to know.
His stomach chose that moment to rumble like an earthquake.
“Hungry,” was all he said.
Both Ere and the Master simultaneously rolled their eyes heavenward at that.
Kai smirked, unconcerned.
He seemed to have that effect on people.
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“For fuck’s sake, give the male some food.”
Before he started gnawing on one of them, or pulled a Mike Tyson and tore off an ear.
The Master’s eyes narrowed with displeasure at Ere’s language, but must have realized the truth of his comment.
For, a large roasted leg of…something…appeared in Kai’s meaty fist. It was ten times the size of an average drumstick of the poultry variety, but it still looked small in the big man’s hand.
Kai immediately tore into the food with chomping, smacking noises and rumbles of satisfaction, leaning back against one of the marble pillars, legs slightly spread.
What an uncouth barbarian.
And yet, a surge of fondness warmed Ere’s chest.
Kai had always been the most primitive of the three dragons the Twin Goddesses created to lead their armies in the War of the Gods.
