Page 19 of Tethered Thrones

“Signed language?” I asked Jia, and she nodded with a smile.

She walked toward me and muttered, “He cannot speak, probably. His throat is slashed under the fur. But Zihan understands us and awakened near Ri, so Atlan has been trying to teach him some.”

I vaguely remembered about Atlan being adopted by a very elderly couple, an orphan of the war. He’d shown us those hand movements that had proved helpful in war when we had to be silent. He taught our squadron, for his adopted father was deaf, and he was good at that universal silent tongue. Atlan’s hands resembled modified military signals more than language this go around, other than the movement for friends, but I got the gist.

Friend.

No attack.

Heel.

Zihan was like a tamed tiger wrapped around its master’s feet. Or, more accurately, a leopard, as it pawed at Atlan’s hip and sat in the snow, large tail curling around. He shook his blood-stained white locks and peered up at him expectantly.

Jia had to hold me up because I did falter, almost slipping and sliding in shock as Atlan kneeled and ruffled his hair like a child. He pressed his cheek to Zihan’s with an affectionate smile, and the panthera purred in return.

Zihan’s eyes found mine, and they softened, the grunts turning into scratching of his large, clawed paws in the snow. When Hadi stepped forward to shield me, Zihan growled low—asking forgiveness while giving me a clear warning for Hadi to stay away from Atlan. At least, that’s what I thought he was doing.

“Well, things are getting interesting. Those bastards weren’t lying when they claimed to be our allies. Useless as they were in the fight.”

We all glanced upward in unison, adrenaline pumping, as Bracken reached us, his large black wings spreading out like adark halo as he landed not far behind Hadi, Jia, and I. Clem was riding tucked in Kiar’s arm, holding something, as they were dropped to the ground in a heap of wings and scales rolling on the ground.

When they righted themselves, Clem clutched the bundle in his arms tighter, cloaked and covered from the frost with wonder in his eyes. And Kiar looked like he would hurl, injured but shockingly unscathed to have dealt with such an onslaught of attackers.

They were all shockingly unscathed, given the number of nightwings, and it was thanks to Zihan and, wait…

“What do you mean, they said they were allies?” I asked Bracken, looking to Atlan and Jia, who wore tight smiles. Something like anger was sparked in their dark gazes.

“I still cannot stand flying,” Kiar murmured, dry heaving, his jaw unhinging, until he hacked up what looked like a partially digested shoulder blade, feathers still poking out. I turned so I wouldn’t spill my guts and add to the putrid smell.

Suddenly, the incessant, rhythmic grunting from Zihan grew louder, his green-blue eyes flashing with dismay. Jia came to his side, abandoning me, and we stood separated, my friends and their pet leopard on one end, me and my men on the other.

“It’s okay. They’re all friends,” Jia said, stroking his head. It was unimaginable. The only one who I knew matched the ferocity of my hatred of nocs was Jia, and yet she was all but babying one. An apex predator!

The panthera stood, towering over even Atlan, and unlocked the heaps of flesh and the head from his belt, tossing them in Bracken’s general direction like an offering. We all stared, mouth gaped, but Bracken whistled low with delight.

“It’s a friendly gesture, you know. You pampered princes wouldn’t know what it’s like outside Yewan. You were always attached to Hadi’s ass even then, Kiar,”Bracken said, reachingfor the bloody mass of flesh without a second thought. “Power submitting to power. Alliances formed with bloodshed. He wants to share a meal and become friends. Rare for his kind. It’s rare for any noc. I like him already.”

Before he could chomp it down, Clem stopped Bracken, kicking his leg fiercely as Kiar’s face twisted up like he’d hurl again. Zihan grunted his approval, crouching beside Atlan’s leg again, waiting, expectantly.

But even Hadi shot Bracken a disapproving glare, and he rolled his eyes, tossing the meat as he whispered, “Apologies. They don’t share our exquisite taste.”

I wondered if it was poisoned until my stomach flipped, meeting Jia and Atlan’s uneasy gazes. Of course. It was noc meat. Pantheras were known to eat it for substance, natural born cannibals, and batbeast…?

Well, now I was beginning to understand why they were both known as the most sadistic and cruel among their kind.

I could’ve sworn Zihan’s ears folded, his body slouching in defeat, and Atlan patted him gently, saying, “I-It was a good present. Don’t worry. We’re all friends now.”

“Come, let us sit and wait for the others,” Jia offered, shrugging off a heavy bag I had just noticed on her small back. I noticed that she was shockingly thin as if she hadn’t put on a pound since escaping captivity.

Everything felt so surreal as we sat around, soldiers and monsters making a truce like it was nothing. Atlan sat beside me, pressing his thigh against mine, and grinned, tears stinging the corners and finally falling down his face with transparent waves.

“Master, I’m so grateful you’re alive,” he finally gushed.

His boyish features seemed thinner, harder. I reached up and traced the long scar down Atlan’s right eye and shuddered with rage. It had not been there before, just like all the other scarsand wounds and burns from the lightning rods now littering his backside.

Jia was worse for wear, what looked like a burn peeking through her collar. Both were dressed in fur-lined tunics I’d only seen on mountain villagers, white as snow, to help blend in with the elements.

Jia and Atlan were no longer the doe-eyed new recruits permanently etched into my mind, until now.

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