Page 51 of Devoted to the Dragon

She was bitten. The mark isn’t from a wolf. It’s the puncture wound of a snake.

Someone brought us to the serpents’ territory and treated us.

The answer is clear, though I fight it. Randi has found her third mate.The truth is dizzying, making my heart pound and my vision blur. As she flies, I puzzle it over, trying to untanglefate’s complicated web. The gods chose Gunnar to bring her laughter, maybe even hope. What would an enemy bring?

Mating the enemy ends two ways.

Randi dives, and my stomach swoops at the velocity of the drop.

Peace or death.We hover on the knife’s edge between them.

My hand tightens around her spike, the other curling around Gunnar’s shoulder. He whimpers in pain, and my wolf purrs as I whisper in his ear, “Hang on a little longer, pup. Hang on.”

Randi landson a wide deck outside her personal rooms, where Vandera is already waiting. Her tail curls around me, lifting the two of us and setting us down gently. Vandera shoots off questions rapidly, but I stand in shock as Randi leaps from the deck and takes flight.

A surge of desperation fills me, but I force myself to turn away and bring Gunnar inside, placing him gently on her bed. Vandera hovers over him as soon as I step back. Her hands rake down his body, and silent words twist her lips. I watch, frozen in helplessness for long minutes, until she jumps back and her eyes open.

“He’s been treated with healing magic. It’s potent but like nothing I’ve ever encountered. Who did this?”

Words don’t come. I stare at my mangled pup, my chest so tight I can barely breathe.

Randi’s flat voice calls from behind us. “He was bit fighting off ferals in the woods, and at some point, he escaped a snare, but his leg was caught in it.” She comes in from the landing and turns over a large bag of crystals, books, and jars, spilling them onto the bed. She riffles through them as she speaks. “Therewas another serpent with the woman the king brought to the Council. I believe he is the one who took us to their territory and treated us.”

Vandera’s eyes widen and drop to the mark on her shoulder. The bite is blaringly loud. The witch’s lips part, but no sound comes out.

“I’ll explain what I know. After.” Randi tosses Vandera a few jars. “Make a drawing salve and lace it with a healing spell. I’ll make a protection circle.”

The two women work quickly. Vandera scurries off and returns with bowls. She mixes a concoction on the bed, checks over Gunnar’s wounds, unwraps his bandages, and applies the thick salve. Randi hurries aroundthe room, muttering as she places crystals in each corner.

I crawl closer to Gunnar, lying on my side as I run my fingers through his soft fur. My body wants to fight, to protect us from the unseen threats looming outside this room. That’s not what we need right now, and I feel useless.

“He’ll be all right?” I choke out the question, every one of my nerves frayed.

Randi sits on her knees behind me, her fingers weaving with mine. Her face is streaked with tears, her voice almost a whisper. “He has to be.”

Vandera works on his leg next, and our pup whimpers. When she’s finally finished, she sits back on her heels, her face drained of color from the strain. “The leg was still a mess, but whoever did his initial healing has done most of the work. He needs rest. I’ll make a sleeping potion, but what I need is in my workshop.”

“Thank you, Vandi.” Randi gets up and hugs Vandera on her way out. The two part with tear-streaked cheeks. When Vandera has left, Randi sighs and leans over me to gently kiss Gunnar’s snout, whispering something I don’t catch. She holds out a hand for me. “Let’s shower, then we can talk to the others.”

I follow her blindly into the bathroom, stripping in a daze and joining her under the spray. The water stings in harsh pellets against the cold that’s settled in my limbs until I eventually thaw. I reach for Randi, taking the soapy sponge from her hands.

“Little dove, talk to me.”

I wash her bruised body in small soothing circles, cataloging each healing wound. Her side is purple and yellow but mostly healed. The water is diluted with the sharp tang of her blood, but it’s old. When I get to the mark on her shoulder, she flinches.

I tug her chin. “Tell me. Whatever it is, we can fight it together.”

Her throat bobs, and tears pool in her eyes. She looks like a sad little mouse, her white hair matted to her head and her eyes more red than gold.

She takes a shuddering breath. “Gunnar and I got us out, but it was a close call. I shifted, and we fled, but they got me. Whatever they gave me was powerful enough to put my dragon to sleep. We crashed.” She looks away, but I pinch her chin, tugging her gaze back to me.

“You’re not to blame. You went in good faith.”

“But you wanted to leave. Gunnar too. I was arrogant and?—”

“No,” I say, voice low. “We’re alive because of you. In battle, it never goes to plan. Now tell me.”

She nods as the tears continue to fall. “When I woke, I was alone. I searched for you and ended up in a trap. That’s when the serpent found me. My dragon tried to protect me, but she was too weak. I managed to escape, but he chased me down. The rune appeared. He bit me, then let me go. I found the two of you on the riverbank and got us across. That’s the last I remember until you woke me.”

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