Page 151 of The Dryad Storm

My sweet love, Tierney sends out to her River and every plant and animal that lives in it. She rolls her head to the side, protectively leaning her cheek against the Vo’s bed as she’s struck by a fleeting sense of Viger’s thrall lashing through their bond like the sting of a whip, there and gone again in a flash of Darkness.

Tierney’s pulse amps up because there’s somethingoffabout Viger’s power, a brutal edge to its energy that’s deeply alarming. Tierney casts about for an explanation, the most obvious triggering a hot rush of chagrin.

Might Viger have sensed her dreams?

No, she assures herself, her flush growing uncomfortably hot. They were all hers, her own private imaginings, played out in her own mind.

Tierney stills, hunting for her central binding to Viger to get a sense of his location, and a brighter spark of concern lights. Her Deathkin bond to him has solidified, tendrils of his Darkness wrapping tight around her power’s core.

Covetously tight.

Tierney’s disquiet intensifies.

I need to find him, she realizes, beating back the reflexive dart of mortification over the scandalous dream-couplings.

Pushing off the riverbed, she swims to its bank and breaks through the Vo’s predawn surface... and the scene she’s met with whisks her breath away.

The Vo Forest’s foliage has transformed into a stunningly vibrant show of colors overnight. The riot of hues edging the leaves are reflected by the Vo’s slow-flowing surface, an early autumn chill in the air. The sky has lightened to a deep sapphire, the color glinting off the bond-Darkened runes dotting their dome-shield’s entire surface.

Tierney draws in a bolstering breath and steps onto the rocky riverbank, then whisks the water off her body, reassuring herself that, as mortifying as the dream effects of the strengthened bond between herself, Viger, Or’myr, and Fyordin might be, her beloved Vo is more powerfully protected now that it’s linked to that bond.

And she can’t deny it—a part of her feels decadently lit up by her new dream-knowledge of this thing most everyone at the Wyvernguard seemed to have full knowledge of already, with their Xishlon festival and shockingly open ways. Even though she’s never been with anyone outside of dreams, she now owns part of that knowledge, too, and feels powerful in the knowing, both desirable and full of her own potent desire, the feel of her River’s power of creation coursing straight through it...

“Unbond her,right now!” Or’myr’s angry voice booms from just past the rocky embankment, and Tierney freezes.

She’s stunned by the level of vitriol in Or’myr’s tone, a blast of his Geo-Mage aura flashing through their bond in a crackling, purple rush. Alarmed, she rounds the stony bend... and emerges into utter chaos.

Viger, Or’myr, and Fyordin are facing off, all of them glaring murderously at each other, fists balled, muscles tensed, seeming ready to tear out each other’s throats.

Tierney’s concern surges as she takes in Viger’s sharpened horns and how his form is shirtless like the others, the snakes tattooed all over his chest writhing to life. His dark claws are out, body coiled for attack as he stares Fyordin and Or’myr down.

Wait,a part of her mind blares,Viger truly has snake tattoos?

Viger turns, his solidly black eyes arresting hers.

Before she can react, Viger’s snake tattoos elongate and slither toward her, the serpents encircling her and enveloping her in a tight, black spiral. Viger bares his teeth and hisses.

Her feet skid across rocky sand as she’s pulled clear to him in a blur, her outrage storming to life.

“What in the name of all the gods are youdoing!” Tierney snarls.

Viger’s hand clenches down around her arm, nails biting. “You’remine,” he growls.

Wait...what?

Or’myr draws his wand and levels it at Viger. “Get your hands and your bondoffher.”

Tierney’s full storm bursts to life inside her as she levels a furious glare at Viger. “I asked you what you’redoing?”

Viger bares his teeth at her.Claiming you, he snarls through the bond.

Tierney’s storm surges, rapids-fast, and breaks free. Dark clouds roil into being overhead, a fierce wind picking up around them all as she narrows her gaze at Viger.“Do. Not. PROVOKE me.”

An aggressive smile rises on Viger’s dark lips.You imagine your power a trace of mine?

“Unhand her, Deathling,” Fyordin growls, his stance confrontational, his invisible water aura bursting forth to rush around her. He raises both palms, roiling spheres of river water blasting into existence to hover above them. “She belongs to me and the Vo.”

Tierney’s eyes widen over Fyordin’s outrageous declaration as well as the staggeringly potent amount of Vo might he’s drawing up and readying to unleash straight at Viger.

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