Page 180 of The Dryad Storm

In the way itburns.

Jarod and Aislinn, Rafe and Diana, Raz’zor and the other shifters, they’re all silent as I sit down and Yvan pours me mint tea and hands the stone cup to me, pausing to kiss my hair, tears glassing Soleiya’s fiery eyes as she gives me a heartfelt smile that I return.

I glance past the bonfire toward Diana, who, incredibly, is sitting next to the huge Amaz Alcippe, Diana’s blond brow arched all the way up as she scents Yvanand me. Jules Kristian sends me a warm smile from where he sits beside Lucretia, his arm wrapped around her, his silver kestrel perched on his shoulder.

Yvan takes a seat next to me, our joint fire aura burning hot around us as Diana’s eyes narrow with an all too knowing light. But her expression holds no amusement. It’s dead serious as she remains uncharacteristically silent, understanding in her amber stare. I realize that a Lupine, more than almost anyone, would comprehend the solemnity of this. What it is to lose a mate with no time to grieve, and what it feels like to be ready to fully bond to a new one.

Yvan’s arm snakes around my waist, our fire power leaping so intensely toward each other that Rafe shoots me a surprised look before averting his gaze.

I’m not embarrassed by Yvan’s and my blaring love and desire for each other. This thing between us is too profound. Too deep. We’ve turned a corner. And I realize later, during a break in battle training when Yvan pulls me aside and draws me into a kiss, keeping his feral, hungry fire firmly in check—barely—that it’s only a matter of time until we take each other fully as our own.

Blue increasingly lights the eastern sky as growing numbers of Dryad’khin gather around the ledge’s central bonfire for some food and drink, Yvan pausing to converse with his mother.

Spotting Ariel in an isolated corner, I approach her and take a seat beside her, a small, conjured bonfire before her, the remaining stars above our shielding and Vogel’s Shadow net rapidly fading, Ariel’s raven kindred perched on her shoulder.

Like Yvan and me, Ariel seems to have turned a corner.

I can sense the triumph simmering through her, sense her drawing more strongly on our horde’s combined fire.

“What happened when Naga left Amazakaraan with you?” I cautiously ask.

She’s quiet for a long moment, a thread of tension simmering to life on the air between us. “Naga found our Wyvern horde in the East,” she finally says, succinctly, even as I sense her core of fire churning hotter. “They burned the nilantyr poison out of me.” She grows silent for a moment, a lashing edge to her flame. “I fought them at first,” she admits, eyes tight on the small bonfire before us. “Bit them. Cursed them up and down. But they stayed with me. And eventually horded to me.” She sets her gaze on me. “I want no part of the Mage in me. I’m a dragon now.”

I take in her newly slitted pupils and the obsidian horns rising from her head, aswell as the dark claws she makes no move to retract.

“You always were,” I agree, both respect and apology in my words.

Because, truly, she always was this fierce, beautiful being. We were just too ignorant to see it.Iwas too ignorant to see it.

Ariel smirks, narrowing her fiery eyes at me. “I can scent what you and your dragon-boy want from each other from about ten leagues away.”

I flush at this and give her a sheepish look.

Ariel laughs. A full-throated laugh, and it bolsters me, prompting my own irrepressible smile. It’s a laugh I would never have imagined hearing from her back in Verpacia. Back in the North Tower.

I peer at her closely, affection for her coursing through my fire and out to her through our horde bond. “Wynter will love seeing you like this,” I say, the words catching with emotion. “When Naga took you away, Alder said Wynter cried for days.”

Ariel tenses, and chagrin sears through me as I realize I’ve overstepped. Because Wynter isn’t here. Wynter is likely still trapped in the Sublands of the West and in grave danger, along with her brother and Rhys and so many others.

Passion rises in Ariel’s fire. “When we all deploy West,” she vows in a low growl, “I’m going after her.”

“You’ll go with the full strength of the horde,” I vow in turn.

Ariel glances toward the Forest and winces, growing quiet again for a long moment. “Resisting nilantyr is a daily fight,” she murmurs, the flow of her fire strained. “I... struggle.”

“But not alone,” I promise.

I send more fire to her, and Ariel’s lips slant up. She catches hold of my power and sends a searing rush of flame into me through it, strong enough to almost shudder me off my seat. But then our flames link and join, our fire power twining tight, and we grin at each other, the two of us joined in powerful Wyvern alliance.

A spark of peace burning in my center, I glance up... the spark instantly singed to char, shock igniting, as the Shadow net Vogel cast over our shield explodes in a flash of gray.

Chapter Sixteen

Peak Foliage Rising

Elloren Guryev

Northern Dyoi Mountain Range

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