Page 36 of Fated to the Drakarn Commander (Drakarn Mates 4)

"It means you're about to run off half-cocked based on zero actionable intel," I countered, crossing my arms, needing the barrier. "Again."

"At least I'm doing something!" she snapped. "While you've been … what, exactly? Holed up in your gilded cage with your giant lizard bodyguard?"

The barb struck true, a sickening lurch in my stomach. I was focused on Khorlar. On this … thing between us. Had I forgotten? Pushed the search aside? Guilt twisted, sharp and cold.

"I've been trying to navigate this mess," I defended, the words tasting like ash. "Like the rest of us."

"The last time I 'ran off,' it was to save our people, or did you forget? This is exactly the same."

"It is not, and you know it. Last time you knew exactly where they were and had no reason to think the Drakarn would help. That was months ago; things are different now." My voice was getting louder. I needed to get control of this situation.

Vega's eyes narrowed. Her head tilted, studying me with a sudden, laser focus that made my skin crawl. "What's that?" Her gaze fixed on my neck where the hood had slipped.

My hand flew up. Too fast. A dead giveaway. I yanked the fabric higher, heart hammering against my ribs. But the damage was done. Understanding dawned on her face. Then disbelief. Shock.

"Oh my god," she breathed, barely audible. "You … and him? Seriously?"

Heat flooded my face, burning up my neck. Shame? Defiance? The emotions churned, inseparable. "It's complicated."

A harsh bark of laughter escaped her. Bitter. "It's fucking stupid, Hawk. That's what it is. Terra, Selene, Orla—fine. Whatever alien voodoo got them. But you? I thought you had better sense."

Anger flared, hot and immediate. A shield. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're compromised!" she shot back, stepping into my space, voice laced with contempt. "You're sleeping with the enemy while our people could be out there freezing or starving or worse! While we're all trapped in this goddamn mountain!"

"They're not the enemy!" The words sprang out, automatic. Protective. When did that happen? "If they were, we'd be dead. Or worse."

Vega’s face twisted. "Listen to yourself! They got you defending them now? What's next? Trading your flight suit for scales?"

I bristled, sucking in a sharp breath. "That's not fair. I want what's best for all of us. I'm still me." Am I? The question echoed, insidious. Or am I being pulled apart?

"Are you?" she challenged, voice dangerously soft now. "Because the Hawk I knew would be halfway to Ignarath territory already. First boots on the ground. Not …" She waved a hand vaguely at me, at the tension, the mark I tried to hide. "Whatever this is."

The accusation landed like a fist. Uncomfortably true. Had I lost my edge? Had this … bond … this heat with Khorlar … blinded me? Distracted me from the mission? From them?

"Look," I tried, forcing calm I didn't feel into my voice, "rushing in is suicide. The Ignarath aren't like the Drakarn here in Scalvaris."

"And there it is," Vega pounced, eyes flashing triumphantly. "Terra might be moonstruck over her dragon, but at least she still fights for us! You're just … hiding."

Terra. Our leader. Still sharp, still focused, even with Darrokar at her side. Had I failed where she hadn't? The comparison stung, sharp and deep.

"I'm not hiding," I insisted, but the words felt thin, brittle.

"No?" Vega stepped back, arms crossed. Pity flickered in her eyes, and that was worse than the anger. "Then help me. Unless … unless your scale-daddy is more important than finding our people now."

The crude insult scraped raw nerves. "That's low, Vega."

"Is it?" She shook her head, the fire back in her eyes. "Nine women here. There were thousands of people on our ship. Where are the rest, Hawk? Don't you even care anymore?"

The question punched the air from my lungs. Of course I cared. I had to. They were my people. My responsibility. I took an oath to keep them safe. But tangled in this alien heat, this primal pull towards Khorlar … was that oath still unbroken? Untainted?

"We need a real plan," I said finally. The admission felt like defeat. Like waving a white flag. "To think this through. This is all … fast."

Vega's expression softened, just a fraction. Disappointment dulled the anger. "We don't have time, Hawk. If they're in Ignarath hands …"

She didn't need to finish. I remembered the cold hunger in that scout's eyes. The pure hatred. If our people were there …

"I'll talk to Khorlar," I offered, the words tasting bitter. It was a compromise that felt like betrayal. "Get real intel. Not rumors. If it checks out?—"

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