Page 34 of Daghel

The corners of her mouth draw up in a sly smile. “Do tell.”

Her smile broadens as I whisper it into her ear, though I am more than a little alarmed at how quickly my strength is fading as I am talking. Finally, I settle back on the bed with a yawn, and she pats my hand reassuringly. “Not a problem. I know exactly where to take this project.”

I return her smile tiredly. “Thank you.” My eyes flutter closed and I yawn again as the chill continues to seep deeper into me, making me sleepy. “Apologies. I really feel quite odd.”

“It will be okay. I didn’t think that this would stabilize your temperature, but I hoped that it would at least prolong things for a bit before you fell unconscious.” I hear her sigh and the rustle of furs as she wraps another one around me. “It is only nature that a cold body would shut down to conserve strength.But never fear. You are in no immediate mortal danger. You may sleep without fear. Gwen is coming. You will wake up, and when you do, you will be right as rain,” she murmurs, her voice fading to a distant purr as the cold blackness encompasses me.

Chapter

Twenty-Three

DAGHEL

“Are you sure about this, Daghel?” Linahna asks, her eyes following Gwen as the healer ducks out of the room, taking her leave now that Anya is resting comfortably. Her gaze turns to me and regards me far more calmly after hearing my request than I calculated. “So long as you are left in peace, you are not usually one to make waves. This would definitely get Vorn’s attention, and not in a good way.”

“It cannot be helped,” I grumble as my eyes drift over my female’s sleeping face. The tension within the small muscles is now completely relaxed following the healer’s work, but seeing her resting peacefully does nothing to settle my heart. “I will not dance attendance on his whims when my mate is healing. I will meet with him afterward.”

“And you want me to tell him that?” She expels a slow breath when I nod. “He is not going to be pleased.”

“Vorn can stand some lessons in disappointment,” I point out. “And patience.”

“I’m not arguing with you there,” she replies. Sighing, she rises to her feet and glances toward Anya worriedly before turning her gaze back to me. “I will try to frame it a little more diplomatically. Maybe he will refrain from sending guards to imprison you.”

I snort quietly in response. My request is too small of an infraction for him to lose what he considers to be an advantage. He will not throw me into the cells until he has wrung every bit of usefulness out of me. All the same, that does not stop me from inclining my head toward my longtime friend in thanks. “You have my thanks.”

“I simply do not want your mate to wake up and discover you are dead,” she retorts crossly, and I lower my head to hide my amusement. “Just do not do anything else to infuriate him while she is recovering. I do not want to be the one to explain to her,” she mutters in parting.

I stare at the empty doorway for a long moment. My emotions are in a tumult, despite my unflinching silence. It is only after several minutes that I stand, unable to sit there at Anya’s side for a moment longer as everything within me rages in silent protest. I want to howl and scream. I want to tear something apart with my own hands and claws. But I am helpless against the storm within me while also being so unfortunate as I cannot risk giving release to all my rage.

In truth, this is all my fault. I should not have allowed this to happen and I am sick with grief over it. It is as if it is shattering from within, pulling me apart in a way no enemy ever has. I can barely breathe because of its terrible force, and I feel my heart beating frantically within my chest like a trapped bird trying to break free from its cage.

Even Drisk’s concern weighs heavily in the atmosphere of our chambers as the male clings tightly to her, his big body wrapped around our fragile little mate. His low, crooning humechoes through the rookery in a resonant song, touches a vulnerable spot deep inside of me even as it makes me desire to bellow my frustration. I am struggling with a helpless rage as I pace back and forth across the room, my claws threading through my hair as I swipe my hand through it.

Gwen has put her in a healing sleep and has warned us that she may not wake for two or three days. The thought is agonizing. Linahna is right—I should not have risked it. No matter how much Anya resented me for my decision, no matter how strongly her needs affected me, I never should have flown with her through that storm. Never mind that I subjected her to the darkness… I keep that knowledge tightly contained within myself, though I am practically shaking with my rage.

“Be calm, Daghel,”Drisk rumbles as the faint echo of his hum subsides. He lifts his head and peers at me, his eyes glowing in the dimly lit room.“She has not been harmed. She will rest and then she will awaken and all will be fine.”

“What if she had not made it? What if?—”

“But she did,”the wyvern interrupts, his voice mild and almost disinterested in my mental plight as his wing stretches slightly and he draws her closer to his side with his claws.“She would not thank you for all of… this. Our Anya has her own mind and spirit, and she understands and knows herself well. It was a dangerous risk, and I did not agree with it, but it is over now. When we mate, I will give her my fire, just as I gave it once to you, and she will never suffer this way again.”

I growl in frustration. What he says makes sense, but his chilling logic matters little to me, not when the fear of losing her makes my heart ache. I pin with him with an angry glare. “Do you care so little about her? She nearly died!”

The low growl is the only warning I get. The wyvern is a blur of movement as he surges up from the bed before his heavy frame throws me to the ground. I grunt in surprise, though Iwelcome the pain as I hit the unforgivingly hard floor. I lie there in shock for only a heartbeat and a single breath before Drisk drops over me, his jaw vibrating as he clatters with menace.

“Do not speak in such a way to me,”he snarls.“There is only death for a wyvern who loses their mate. There is no fire, no passion, no love like that of a wyvern. It is what makes us. It is the lifeblood within our veins. I serve and protect you because of this great devotion and love—you and our Anya. If anything happened to either of you, my fires would be swallowed by the void and my scales cool with instantaneous death,”he rasps lowly as he withdraws, allowing me to push myself up to a seated position.

Resting my arms on my knees, I’m hunched over as I stare up at him grimly. “If that is the case, then why does this not disturb you and enrage you as it does me? How are you not prepared to tear the walls down over whatitdid to us?”

“What it did?”He cocks his head at me as he draws back further, wings trembling.“What exactly did it do? Did it not give you both the strength necessary to preserve her life?”

My brow furrows with annoyance. “The darkness is not to be trusted,” I growl.

“I did not say it was,”Drisk replies as he turns and climbs back onto the bed.“I am saying do not make more of it than it is or use it as an excuse to inflict punishment on yourself. You cannot evade the fact that this was her choice. By trying to reassign blame, you are disrespecting her as a female capable of making her own decisions and bearing the consequences.”

I glower up at him. “I dislike it when you are reasonable—it is strange. Where is the male who advocates for murder whenever someone even looks at her sideways?”

Drisk snorts with amusement as he gathers Anya’s sleeping form against him once more.“Do you plan on murdering the darkness? How? To do such is beyond my capabilities.Besides,”he huffs,“I only want to eat those who actively try to harm her. It is different. I hold the highest respect for her ability to choose, even when she is being remarkably suicidal. Her reasoning for it was… touching,”he admits quietly, his muzzle dipping to nuzzle her.“She is typically very pragmatic, our mate. For Anya to be willing to sacrifice her own safety, something that she holds at such a high value that she was willing to contemplate mating with us from the start, it is the highest declaration of love. I will respect it. And she will learn from this, as she must—as all must. The Cold Mountains are a beautiful but deadly place. Only the strong survive… and she did. Now she will live and be even stronger.”

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