Page 16 of Klauth
Finally, I breach the walls of Shadowcarve, unstoppable rage pulsing through every vein. I spot him—a male looming over my mate, his sword lodged in her shoulder. A feral snarl rips through my throat at the scent of her blood, metallic and hot, mingling with my fury.
He glances back, eyes widening in terror as I bear down upon him. In a flash, he shifts into a smaller green dragon and launches into the sky, panic rolling off him in waves. I hover, panting clouds of steam, and glance at Mina below. Students flee, their faces contorted in fear. Mina locks eyes with me, lifts her arm—despite the sword wound in her flesh—and shouts her gratitude. The tightness in my chest eases for a breath as I dip my head in acknowledgment, then tear after the green dragon, my wings buffeting the air with deafening force.
Each wingbeat propels me across the landscape in seconds, trees, and rivers blurring below. The smaller male tries every evasive maneuver he can muster—diving into cloud banks, weaving through rock spires—but I remain right behind him,relentless. He banks sharply and disappears into the yawning mouth of the northern cavern system. I land outside with a bone-shaking thud, dust, and loose gravel scattering underfoot. My nostrils flare at the cold, damp air pouring from the cavern’s entrance. The faint echo of dripping water in the darkness only fuels my savage anticipation.
I feel a flicker of heat from my ignitor—like a pocket of magma erupting in my chest—before I unleash a torrent of flame into the cavern. The roar of it sets my ears ringing; the walls hiss and crack under the sudden blaze. I doubt I’ve killed him this time, but it doesn’t matter. His fate is sealed. Mina has decreed it in our bond, and now I will see it done.
Sometime later…
The most beautiful tone drifts to me over the miles, carried on the crisp night air, still laced with the tang of salt and distant smoke from my earlier rage. I pause mid-flight, powerful muscles tensing beneath my scales. My interest in torching all the cavern openings wavers. I’ve heard this song before … It’s the same one Mina sang when she woke me up all that time ago, a melody that resonates in my bones and draws me like a moth to flame. With a single powerful surge of my wings, I change course and take flight toward that haunting tune. Every flap brings me closer to where I belong.
As I crest the horizon, a sharp breeze cuts across my face, carrying the smell of old ruins—crumbling stone, moss, andlingering echoes of ancient magic. Below, I catch sight of an emerald-green and iron dragoness standing amid a circle of broken pillars and shattered arches. Her frill stands tall and proud between two long silver horns. I roar in response to her song and watch her head snap up. Her scales glisten under the faint moonlight, revealing the subtle swirl of iron that speaks volumes of her heritage. Mina once told me how her mother—a pure-blooded iron dragoness—was taken. Now I see the truth reflected in every iron streak across my mate’s hide. Iron is the hardest scale known to exist, and I can practically feel the impenetrable strength emanating from her.
I circle overhead, letting the updrafts from the nearby cliffs brush against my underbelly. The taste of the sea on the breeze is mingled with the scent of my mate’s dragon musk, sparking a possessive heat deep in my chest. Satisfied with my vantage, I descend, landing a few hundred feet away. The ground trembles beneath the impact of my limbs, sending a gust of dust swirling around us. Standing at my full height, I tower over her. I sense the dryness in my throat from the flight and the lingering sulfur from the flames I unleashed on the caverns.
I watch my mate return to her human form, and for a moment, the night seems to hold its breath. The moonlight illuminates her silhouette; the edges of her hair catch a pearlescent glow, framing her features in silver and shadow. Mina calls my name, and every note of her voice seems to reverberate through my very core. My vision narrows until she is all I see, her presence filling my senses.
When she smiles, I’m dazzled, as though I’m staring directly into the sun. “Thank you for saving me,” she says, stepping back to regard me carefully. Her words resonate over the soft rumble of distant waves, the brine of the sea drifting closer on the breeze.
Lowering my head, I catch the faint coppery scent of blood from the bandage wrapped around her shoulder, the iron tang unmistakable. I snort in agitation at the reminder of her injuries, and my gaze sweeps the horizon to ensure no threat remains.
She lifts her hands to placate me; the moonlight glinting off the sharp edges of her scaled gauntlets. “It’s only a minor wound,” she assures softly, her voice nearly lost to the whispering wind. “It could have been worse if you didn’t make it in time.” I let out a low rumble, cursing her father—the male who’d dare wound his own daughter.
“My father is a male without honor,” she murmurs, eyes haunted. Her words mix with the soft sough of the night wind, which rustles through the broken arches of the ruins. “He stole my mother from her mate so he could have me. He wanted an iron dragon female to bear his young.” She has told Thauglor and me this before, but the bitterness in her voice makes the memory fresh. My attention drifts to her fingers clicking her silver talons together, the almost metallic like sound echoing in the silence.
I settle myself onto the cool stone, the rough texture scraping beneath my scales as I lower my massive frame. I wonder if she’ll attempt to preen me. Most new mates can’t resist, and I’m eager to see how instinctual she is, how deeply she’s connected to our old ways.
Mina’s eyes wander over my dragon’s face, and when she smiles, it feels warm despite the chill in the air. There’s salt and sea foam in the breeze, and each breath I draw hums with the promise of her nearness. She clicks her talons again, a soft, comforting sound. “I’m going to preen your scales,” she says. Her voice is quiet but firm, cutting through the gentle roar of the distant surf. “You have a few places where the dead scales are built up.”
She turns, lifting her hair to reveal the scales that fan across her shoulders. Their green-and-iron sheen shimmers in the moonlight, a reminder of her mixed lineage. “I have six other mates in my nest,” she continues, pointing to the bite marks that trail across her shoulder. A pang of curiosity ripples through me; I wonder about the male dragon among them—young and insecure, apparently. But that is a puzzle for another day.
When she presses close, I can feel the heat of her body against my hide. The delicate scrape of her talons carefully prying away my dead scales sends a tingling ripple through me. The scent of old scales falling away mixes with the earthy perfume of the ruins—damp stone, crushed lichen, and the faint memory of ancient fires. I let out a deep, rumbling purr that vibrates through the stones beneath us, letting her know just how much I enjoy her touch.
“I’ve started digging my own nest,” Mina says, and I swivel my nearest eye to focus on her. The wind shifts, carrying a hint of something sweet, maybe wildflowers from beyond the ruins. “I’m not expecting eggs yet,” she adds softly, and I nearly exhale in relief, “but I want them someday. I need a safe place first. Maybe you and Abraxis could create some dragon glass for the walls? I’d feel secure if you did.”
Her request sparks a low rumble in my chest. I imagine forging a fortress of obsidian-like glass with my flames, though I question how helpful that young drake Abraxis might be. Thauglor would be a more fitting partner for such a task. Still, Mina’s gentle preening quells my irritation, her careful ministrations relaxing every knotted muscle in my body.
She’s so young—barely more than a hatchling compared to me. The thought of my centuries weighed against her mere decadesalmost makes me feel fragile in a way, fearful of hurting her. But the look in her eyes, the determination, banishes my worry.
“I had a dream of what your human side looks like,” she whispers, her voice nearly lost to the rhythmic crash of waves. I close my eyes, recalling all the images I’ve tried to share with her through our bond. I keep purring to soothe and reassure her.
“Your eyes, like mine, stay the same color in both forms,” she muses, her breath hitching as she studies me. “Crimson-flecked amber … it’s beautiful.” Her fingertips trace the edges of my scales, and I swear sparks dance along every nerve in my body. Her warm, human palm presses against my cheek. “Your hair should be a shade of russet or auburn,” she continues, voice soft and full of wonder. “Maybe darker underneath, like burnt umber.”
I open the eye closest to her, watching as she lifts her hand to a deep talon mark near my eye ridge. I can see the reflection of the moonlight in her gaze, watch her pupils widen in fascination. My breath catches, an unfamiliar flutter moving through my chest.
“You more than likely have scars all over your body,” she says, tracing that ridge with reverence. She doesn’t know how accurate she is—my human form bears the same tapestry of battle marks as my dragons hide. The brush of her skin against my scale sets my blood thrumming. I imagine standing before her one day, stripped of all armor, letting her explore every scar if it pleases her.
A soft breath escapes me, my purr thrumming deeper. The ruins around us fall silent in reverence, as though even the broken stones realize they are witnessing something sacred. The air is salty, tinged with the smell of old fires and the sweet promise of a future nest—my nest with Mina. And in this moment, everysense is alight with her presence, pulling me into a world where she and I alone exist.
Chapter Sixteen
I standin the ruins of my once-proud castle, the chill night breeze brushing over my scales like distant memories. Broken stone and ash linger in the air, tickling the back of my throat with each breath. The moonlight spills across the shattered battlements, casting sharp shadows that cut through the darkness. Every crack and creak echoes, as if the castle’s ghosts are still whispering in these desolate halls.
Mina steps back, positioning herself so both my massive eyes can see her. Her voice, barely above a whisper, dances on the night air. “I know you’re my mate. I feel it. I’ve felt it since your egg started responding to me … since you started responding to me.”
Her scent shifts in that moment—gone is the anxiety that hung around her like a veil. Now it’s laced with a bold, intoxicating confidence that teases my senses. I inhale deeply, and for the first time, the air around us tastes charged with possibility.
She tilts her head to the side and gives me a soft, inviting smile. “May I see your human side? Hold you in my arms.” When her eyes flutter shut and she bows her head, my heart thrumsharder. Her trust rolls over my scales like a gentle current, warm and steady.
