Page 17 of Oath of Revenge

Leopol grew quiet as he thought of his previous life. Hundreds of years has passed, but Knox could only imagine how lonely and sad his friend was now.

He was more of an uncle, his father’s cousin, but he’d become so much more. He was a fount of knowledge, knew every inch of the library and castle, and taught Knox new things every day. Leopol had helped him learn how to lead the new Feral Forest kingdom in a way that would’ve made his father proud.

Leopol was his one link to the dragons of the past, to his heritage. Knox poured a hefty drink of liquor and downed it in one gulp. The smooth burn of fire down his throat brought him back to the conversation. He burped a green puff of smoke and wiped the back of his mouth with a hand.

“What happened then?” Knox asked.

Leopol turned, his eyes focusing once more as he smiled. “Oh, the druids threw him from the castle. Told him to come back when he saw the light in your mother’s window.”

Knox put down the decanter. His stomach twisted. “That’s it. The druid. Grandma should be here.”

Leopol stroked his chin. “You could fly and get her. You’re fast, so you can return before the delivery progresses too much. She’s hours to go yet.”

Tingles raced along his arms, and he strode to the door. “I hate not being able to know instantly if there’s an emergency. Someday, there will be a way to communicate right away if she needs me.”

Leopol’s hand slapped his back. “But not today, my friend. Today you must trust nature and us to keep her safe.”

”Your highness,” Hobbs called from the stairs. Knox turned, his brows rising as Hobbs moved faster than he had in the past six months living here. He reached the bottom of the stairs and held out a small hand-sized pouch. “Lailant says you need to deliver this to Scarlet.”

Knox slid it into his pants pocket, not bothering to see what it was. “How is she? Eirwyn? The babe?”

Hobbs smiled, but it was strained and tight. “Just fine, your highness. Lailant said all is going as she expected.”

Knox ran a hand over the back of his neck. “That could be good or bad. Alright, if she asks for me, tell her where I’ve gone?” Knox asked, glancing up the stairs as a moan echoed through the halls.

Leopol and Hobbs both nodded as Knox threw open the front door. “Watch out for the eagles on your way out,” Leopol said.

Knox scoffed as he strode into the bright but weak winter sunshine. “I rather hope they give me an excuse to tear them apart. I feel savage.”

Leopol followed him down the stairs, his eyes sad as Knox shifted into dragon form. “It’s the helplessness. I know exactly how you feel, Knox, but fetch the druid and be safe.”

Knox nodded his big green head and spread his wings. His legs tensed as he launched into the air. A few tense moments always sent adrenaline through him. It was a struggle to make it over the helrose hedge.

He circled the castle, spying the small cluster of cottages about a half-mile south. Well outside the eagle’s breeding grounds to the north, it was their third settlement in six months. Their numbers were growing steadily as more and more Buspartans sought refuge in the Feral Forest.

He shook his head at the irony of it and turned south-west toward Grandma’s cottage.

Chapter 5

Wulfric floated in the water, struggling to keep his head up so he could breathe. No, it wasn’t water. Clouds? He floated but with every tight breath, he sank lower and lower to earth. His mind fought to stay in the air, but he couldn’t breathe.

He sucked in a shallow breath at the pain in his side. A weight pressed on his chest. A noise like an anchor dropping brought him back to the ground, and he pried his eyes open. Caked and dry, it took longer than normal for the world to come into focus.

A fire crackled in the hearth beside him. The hearth... it reminded him of a long-forgotten past. The grinding sound came again, and he turned his head to the side, groaning at the pain in his neck.

A goddess stood at the table, grinding lavender into a mortar. The stench of crushed ginger, turmeric, cloves, and oregano filled the air. On the table in front of her, oil jars and soaking salt were spread out. As he watched, she picked up the oil and added a few drops into the bowl.

Efficient, confident, capable, yes, but a goddess wouldn’t be doing such work. His eyes flitted around the room, taking in the table, the kitchen, the comfortable chairs. He’d made it to the dreaded druid’s cottage. She must be the one they’d all been warned away from.

Muscles rippled under her green shirt, sleeves rolled up as she worked. She was lithe, a small woman, but dressed unlike anything the female Growlers wore. The black leather vest was laced tight on the sides like some sort of armor, matching her black pants and mud-caked black boots. A green shirt under the vest had sleeves rolled up to her elbows.

But it was her face that captivated him. Pale with white freckles sprinkled across her nose like a newborn fawn.

He blinked, his mind too slow for his liking. Was her nose that of a rabbit? Or was it a deer? He frowned, not seeing any whiskers.

She wasn’t human, but she wasn’t quite like him, either. A wide rack of antlers stuck up from either side of her head, and long ears hung down to her shoulders like a rabbit.

A riot of red, curly hair was piled between her antlers like a crown. It was silky, wild, and unlike anything he’d seen before. Well, in the ten years he’d been a Growler. She picked up the mortar bowl and sniffed, her cute little pink nose twitching just like a little rabbit.

---