Page 45 of Dragon Slayer

It wasn’t Val’s achievement, not truly, but itfeltlike it, the burst of excitement in his chest. He cheered, and Vlad clapped him on both shoulders.

“Well done,” he murmured.

Val spun and flung his arms around his brother’s middle, hugged him tight.

“Father!” he shouted. “Did you see? Did you–”

He and Vlad both stilled in the same moment. A new scent reached them: Uncle Romulus.

Val pulled back, slowly, though Vlad left a hand on his shoulder, fingers curling tight in the fabric of his shirt. Holding him there.Stay here beside me. It gave Val the courage to peer around Vlad and search for their uncle.

Romulus stood several paces from Father, projecting a relaxed demeanor, one booted foot cocked, hands resting lightly on his hips. He didn’t acknowledge the aggressive stare Vasile drilled into the side of his head. His gaze was fixed on Mircea, who’d gone totally still, bow clenched in white-knuckled hands. Val could smell the first acrid notes of fear lifting off his oldest brother’s skin.

“You should adjust your stance,” Romulus suggested.

Mircea took a rattling breath. “S-sir?”

“His stance is fine,” Vasile snapped, growling softly.

Romulus snorted. “If he was full-blooded, or a wolf like you, yes, it would be. But he’s half-mortal. He needs to adjust his stance to make up for the strength he lacks. Here.” He stepped forward, and though Mircea’s brows jumped, he didn’t flinch away. “Face the target, yes, like that. Nock your arrow.”

Mircea did as told, feet braced wider, elbow tilted at a higher angle at Romulus’s urging.

“Now. Take a breath. Hold it. And then release.”

Bullseye.

Mircea stared goggle-eyed at the target.

Romulus chuckled. “Perhaps you should invest in a mortal archery instructor, eh brother?”

Vlad’s hand tightened again, a little spasm on Val’s shoulder.

~*~

“You were frightened,” Val said the next day, sitting across from Mircea at a book-loaded table.

Sunlight fell through the open window at Mircea’s back, turning his shaggy hair into a copper halo around his face. He turned the page and sighed. “What do you mean?” But he fidgeted in his chair a little, and his denial was just a token; Val already knew the truth.

“Uncle Romulus.” Val lowered his head so his chin was propped on the back of one hand, low enough that the sun couldn’t slant into his eyes, and he could watch Mircea’s gaze grow distant, no longer reading, only staring at the page in front of him. “You were afraid of him.”

Mircea chewed his lip a moment, eyes still glued to the book, then finally gave up with another sigh. Propped an elbow on the table and leaned sideways, gaze troubled when he lifted it to Val. “But you were too, weren’t you? This isRomulus. He tried tokillFather…probably even thought he succeeded.” He shook his head, and Val thought he was struggling with the notion of vampires again.

His father was one, his brothers were; he was on, if not friendly, at least cordial terms with Eira. He knew all the wolves, had watched them shift. Heknewimmortals…but Val thought sometimes it overwhelmed him.

His gaze sharpened, suddenly, coming back to Val’s and pinning him in place. “What does he smell like?”

“What?”

Mircea wrinkled his nose. “You can all, I don’t know, tell what a person’s intentions are, can’t you? You can smell their…emotions, or something?”

“I…” It wasn’t something easily put into words. He couldn’t smell intent, or emotions. It was more that a person’s intent had a way of affecting their heartrate, the tang of their sweat. It was a sense. He’d been born with it, and explaining it to mortals was difficult. He had to try, though, for his brother. “He…there’s somethingwrong,” he said, reiterating what he’d said to Vlad before, frustrated with his own lack of understanding.

“Wrong?” Mircea’s brows jumped.

“I don’t know.” Val shook his head, but of course that didn’t clear it. “I can’t tell. There’s just…something.”

Mircea studied him a moment, giving him a chance to come to some great revelation, then finally offered a lopsided smile. “It’s alright. Sometimes bad feelings are unfounded.”

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