Page 82 of The Lost Child

I grabbed her by the arm and gestured wildly with the other to the shapes in the sand. “Look! These motherfuckers draw perfect shapes! That’s why their wards were so good!”

Alkdama stared at the shapes, so silently impressed she didn’t even comment on me manhandling her. Which I appreciated.

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Well then, we must adjust our preparations.” She crooked a finger at the drakens. “Come.”

They all left, leaving me standing there like a simpleton. I rolled my eyes. “Guess I’ll go find some food,” I muttered to no one, but secretly thrilled for the drakens. I’d find my own strengths in no time. I had to be patient. Canavar was right; I hadn’t learned to sail or fight in a single day.

Strangely, I was looking forward to it.

All my life, I’d thought I was seeking glory, and to prove my worthiness to my father. Now, I couldn’t help but wonder if the entire time, it hadn’t just been a need to be accepted and loved.

Canavar accepted and loved every inch of me.

In some ways, I still felt like the little girl who just wanted her daddy to love her. I’d been through enough now to understand that sometimes what we wanted wasn’t always possible. My father had been incapable of loving a little girl.

Yet the supposed monster had done it immediately and without question.

My monster.

Speaking of, we needed to be alone tonight. Or did we? Thinking of how we’d essentially had partner sex with his sister and her was getting me hot and bothered again, and in the best way.

I sighed, and started gathering kindling for a fire.

Twenty-Eight

CANAVAR

Iwas good at something that wasn’t killing.

It meant more to me than I realized it would. Kaida and Nasi seemed to take it in stride, though they were smiling as well. I couldn’t stop. The muscles in my cheeks hurt.

I had a beautiful, strong mate, and together we would build a home here. And I was good at something that wasn’t killing.

Alkdama went on and on about how my people—the drakens—had been masters at wards, likely because of our ability to draw perfect shapes. I believed her, I supposed, though Kaida and Nasi looked just as dumbfounded as me.

She quickly put us to work as blood witches surrounded us, pointing to draw a sigil here, make a connecting circle there, and soon a large, complicated design lay out before us in the sand.

Alkdama stood back and sighed with all of us, a proud look on her face. “Well, that didn’t take nearly as long as I thought it would.” She glanced at us. “Thank you. Be sure to sleep tonight. We will do the ritual at dawn.”

Alkdama then proceeded to threaten every blood witch within an inch of their life if they so much as looked at the drawn sigils in the sand, let alone accidentally marred it before it was time to do the ritual. I grinned. She was a fierce warrior in her own way.

I thought of perhaps going back to the pile of logs I had started further inland, and working more on the house for Nerissa and I. It didn’t quite feel right to build something on the ground, but perhaps that was just my years in the cave talking.

Kaida plopped down next to me, an intent expression on her face.

“You are staying on the island with Nerissa, right?”

I nodded. That was what we were all doing, wasn’t it? My expression must have given my thoughts away, because she laughed. “Oh don’t worry, we will live here also. It’s just … don’t you wonder if there are more of us out there?”

“More of us? Like Drakens?” I asked. “I never imagined anything about it,” I answered honestly. I hadn’t been trained to think, after all.

Kaida sighed, and leaned her head against my shoulder. Sometimes I still marveled at her pure white skin and how it shimmered in the waning sunlight.

I felt a slight pull toward her, but snuffed it out. Kaida was my sister.

“Nasi and I would like to travel a bit more and perhaps find other drakens. The sea witches have promised to spread the word along Dorea as well.”

“And I still insist they don’t need us to do that.”

---