Page 31 of Dragons' Mate
Cyril winced. “Kitterny… The humans mistreated you. Made you a slave.” He cradled her forearm, uncovering the brand as if she needed the reminder. “And then we did the same to you, for all the choice you had. You only aligned with us to get your freedom. Once you had it, there seemed little reason for you to continue dancing to our tune. So we let you go.”
Instead of being placated, Kit pulled away. “So your solution to my not having a choice before was to take another choice away from me?”
This was not going the way he’d intended. “We didn't think you'dwantto stand up for either side after that. Dragon or human. Even you must agree that’s not unreasonable.”
"You never came after me," she said quietly. “After all the talk of being pack, when Ettienne sent me out of your lives forever, you didn't even fight it."
"Fight to drag you into this rutting mess? Are you bloody insane?” Cyril’s nostrils flared with frustration. “Whatever else you want to argue about, whatever else I'm guilty of—and believe me, I'm guilty of enough things to make you hate me ten times over—this I’m not apologizing for. Not for putting you before my life, or the pack, or the stars taken realm."
“Even if that’s what I wanted?” Kit raised her chin defiantly. “Because, spoiler alert, it was. It’s bad enough it never occurred to you that I might care about the actual future of the human race or the pack, it didn’t even occur to you to ask.”
“What about what we wanted then?” Cyril’s voice rose along with his scales. He towered over Kit now, meeting her fierce glare with his own. “You think I want to see you put your life in danger? You think it isn't killing every single one of us to know that these blight forsaken trials care nothing for human lives? That we might lose you altogether?”
Kit’s eyes flashed like a storm. “And if I want -”
"Start wanting something that won't kill you, and we'll talk about it!” Cyril’s chest heaved, his words coming with harsh breaths. Behind him, the stream was rushing over the rocks, his magic unable to keep to itself. A violent wave of it picked up a loose stone, hurling it against the mountainside.
Someone cursed.
Cyril’s pulse pounded in his head so loudly that it took him a whole heartbeat to realize the sound didn’t come from Kit. Spinning about, Cyril shoved her behind him in one smooth motion, his hand going to the sword that he’d at least been smart enough to keep on him.
Blight take him. He'd gotten so worked up arguing, he’d not realized how much of a target the shouting was making of them. Well, he sure as hell realized it now.
Especially as two males rushed at them from the woods.
"Take cover," Cyril ordered, pointing across the small expanse of clearing toward the copse of trees on the other side.
For once, Kit did as she was told without argument.
Cyril barely had time to thank the stars for that small miracle before his blade met the first attacker’s—a short stocky male with a mop of blond hair.
The sharp ring of steel on steel echoed in the stillness as Cyril’s blade clashed with Blondie’s, the force of the blow reverberating up his arm. Blondie tried to power through the parry, either because he thought he could win or just to buy his partner an advantage.
The second male, taller and leaner than his companion, aimed his weapon at Cyril’s legs. He was fast, his savage grin lighting up a face with a crooked nose.
Cyril threw Blondie off just in time to leap over Nose’s blade. His heart quickened in his chest, the adrenaline spurring him forward. Landing softly, Cyril danced over the rugged terrain, maneuvering the attackers so they fell into line with each other, their separate assaults now a hindrance to their own advancement.
They tried to circle him again, their jabs and parries designed to wear Cyril down and test for weaknesses more than deliver a final blow. In another time Cyril would have been happy to oblige their game, but not now. Not with Kit here.
Cyril summoned his magic, the primal kind he’d not used in a great while—yesterday’s demonstration in the meadow notwithstanding. The familiar rush of power coursed through his veins, wild and tempting. Easy to lose himself in. Too easy.
When Blondie rushed forward again, Cyril unleashed himself on the male. The magic hit Blondie square in the chest, sending him arching through the air to plop into the frigid stream. Water rushed to cover the male’s face, forcing itself into his mouth.
With a guttural cry, Nose rushed forward, his blade arcing through the air.
Cyril spun, his sword and magic at the ready.
The mercurial clouds shifted then, the sun’s rays suddenly reflecting off polished steel before a shadow fell over the field of battle once more.
But it wasn’t from the clouds.
A surge of terror spilled into Cyril’s blood as he realized that it was a dragon in flight that had eclipsed the sun. The dragon that hunted not him, but Kit.
Blondie and Nose had been a distraction.
Cyril’s cry echoed off the mountain as the great beast swooped down and snatched the still running Kit into its talons before carrying his catch off into the sky.
CHAPTER14
