Page 12 of Fated to the Drakarn Commander (Drakarn Mates 4)

"All the more reason to stay with my people," I argued, gesturing behind me. "Safety in numbers."

"Your presence endangers them," Khorlar stated, blunt as a hammer blow. "If the Ignarath target this location seeking you, they will harm anyone in their path."

The air punched from my lungs. I glanced back. Reika's pale face. Kira's clenched jaw. Eden's terrified eyes. Bringing danger down on them … the thought was a physical weight.

"Bullshit," Vega hissed. "We stick together. Always."

Everything in me screamed agreement. Stay. Keep us whole. But his logic, cold and sharp, cut through the sentiment. If I was the target …

"Hawk," Kira said softly, her analytical mind already there. "Maybe … maybe he's right."

"I just got them calm," I muttered, just loud enough so she could hear.

"And they'll unravel if you fight the dragon-guard," she countered, just as quiet. "If youarethe target …"

I squeezed my eyes shut, hating the logic. Couldn't refute it. I opened my eyes to find Khorlar watching, nostrils flaring just a little, that unsettling intensity focused entirely on me. He was scenting me. Tasting the air between us like … like prey? No, something else. Something that made my own breath catch.

"Fine," I said finally, the word scraping like gravel from my throat. "But I want daily updates. Full reports."

A single, curt nod from Khorlar.

"You can't be serious." Vega grabbed my arm, fingers digging in, desperate. "We don't split up. Rule one."

I turned to her, forcing my voice to steady, locking my knees against a sudden tremble. "I need you here, Vega. They need you. Terra's gone, Orla and Selene are with their mates. I need someone strong watching their backs. Can you do that?" Cheap manipulation. Appealing to her fierce protectiveness. But I needed compliance, not approval. Her jaw worked, the internal battle visible. Finally, a sharp, jerky nod.

"You check in," she ordered. "Or I'm coming for you, scales be damned."

"Fair enough." I squeezed her shoulder, then faced the others. "Stay smart. Stay together. I'll be back." The fear in their eyes nearly broke me. Crash landing, survival, negotiation … we’d forged something strong in that fire. This felt like ripping off a limb.

But the decision was made. "Lead the way."

He turned without a word, filling the corridor. I followed, matching his long strides, refusing to scurry. Thighs burning, but pride wouldn't let me falter.

Was this how Terra felt all those months ago? Dragged away by Darrokar? Not that Khorlar was claiming me … but the echo was disturbing.

Deeper into the mountain city. Winding passages spiraling down. Cooler air, thick with mineral scents coating my tongue. There were fewer Drakarn here. The ones we passed nodded deferentially to Khorlar, eyes sliding to me, filled with open curiosity.

"Where exactly are we going?" My voice echoed strangely. Minutes of silence stretched thin.

"Siege quarters," he replied, not looking back.

"You think we're under siege already?"

"Preparation is not paranoia."

I rolled my eyes at his rigid back, the tightly folded wings. "Pretty sure paranoid people say that exact thing."

No verbal response, but tension tightened his shoulders. Wings shifted. A tiny ripple. It struck a nerve. Good.

An archway carved with battle scenes—Drakarn warriors, wings spread, claws tearing into enemies. Beyond it, a massive circular chamber, doorways radiating out. High ceiling, dotted with heat crystals casting a warm, intimate-yet-exposed glow.

He stopped at one door and revealed a spacious chamber. "This is where you will stay," he stated, gesturing me inside.

My steps were cautious as I gave the room a quick scan. Spartan was generous. A stone platform with silks—a bed. Bathing alcove. A simple table, two stone chairs.

Bare walls. Utilitarian. Cold.

But the air … warmer than the corridor. And carrying a faint musk. Not unpleasant. His scent. There was a jolt low in my stomach. He’d been there. Recently.

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