Page 37 of Court of Embers (Dragonesse #2)
I smiled a little at that, thinking that it was, in some ways, true. But the smile slipped away as soon as it’d arrived, for there was nothing to laugh about.
Kirana and Cai, and Maristela and Gaelin, were already in the eyrie, the dragons shifted to their usual male forms. Cai was breathing hard, Gaelin frowning deeply.
The bronze dragon followed us, and I got my first good look at Rhylan’s Wildlands relatives as his uncle shifted, his rider dropping free and straightening as she looked around.
She was slim and well-muscled, white scales gleaming on pale skin.
Her hair was equally white, and as I took in her large black eyes, I realized what seemed so oddly familiar about her.
She could have been Gaelin’s mother, but for the tribal tattoos running down her arms and imprinted on her chest, and the odd clothes she wore.
Her cropped shirt seemed to be made of tanned, dark blue wyvern-hide, and her pants bloused out around her thighs, bound from the knee down into wrapped leather boots.
She bristled with weapons, knives strapped to her forearms and waist, a quiver on her back.
It was she whom Gaelin aimed his frown towards, staring at her hard.
His uncle Roark was deeply tanned, a mane of golden-tipped hair pulled back from his face, and he was as enormous as his draconic form implied.
Bronze scales coated his cheeks and shoulders, spilling over his chest, and just about every scale seemed disrupted by the scars covering his body.
Like Ivoire, he wore what amounted to barbarian attire by Akallan standards: a scarlet wyvern-hide kilt, and not much else.
I was used to nudity from dragons, but strangely the kilt seemed to emphasize the fact of it, rather than hide it.
His hazel eyes seemed to laugh at my chagrin. “It makes it easier to wash the sand out of your bits after a long journey,” he said with a wink, and I wondered if it was possible to die of embarrassment.
“Uncle Roark, Aunt Ivoire,” Rhylan said with obvious relief. “Gods, I’m so glad you came. This is Sera, my mate.”
“Of course we came. You’re my favorite nephew.” Roark took him by the shoulders, still smiling.
“I’m your only nephew.”
“Be that as it may, we are here to tear the hearts from your enemies, to destroy their little sky-nests stone by stone, to—”
Kirana coughed thinly. “I need blood,” she said, and licked her dry lips. “We’ve flown nonstop since we arrived in Akalla,” she informed me. “Yura intercepted us near Sylvaene.”
“She seems to know a little too much about us and our plans.” I couldn’t stop thinking about the way she’d leaned forward to stroke Tidas’s back, a clear mockery of the same motion I always made. Just how much did she know about us?
Kirana shook her head wearily. “That bitch has eyes everywhere,” she said, and prickles ran over my skin.
Before I could open my mouth, a shadow passed over us, and another dragon landed on the dragon door. He was a lighter shade of bronze, but as muscled as Roark, and I could see the resemblance as he shifted, dropping to the floor.
Clearly he was their son. He had Roark’s dark hair and deep golden skin, and his mother’s liquid black eyes. He straightened, scowling at Gaelin, who was still staring at Ivoire.
“Hunter,” Rhylan said, and the two clasped hands.
My cousin , he told me privately. He doesn’t talk much, but he can kill quicker than you can blink.
Mykah followed, and the eyrie quickly became a carnival of chaos, dragons and draga pressed into any available space. She tied Solace’s reins to a pillar, and I didn’t miss the big calf-eyes she sent Hunter’s way. Well, he was handsome, I supposed, but a bit old for her.
Roark looked around the eyrie. “Just as cramped as I remember. See, this is why we don’t have Houses. We have…” He spread his arms wide. “ All the Wildlands as our house.”
“We have a lot to catch up on.” Rhylan couldn’t keep the grim tone from his voice as he caught Kirana’s eyes. “We should go down to the library, and fill you in. There’s more going on than what we gave it credit for.”
Ivoire nodded, looking around a little more warily, and there was a low grumbling sound. I realized it was coming from Roark, who had finally noticed Gaelin staring at his mate.
“Maybe you should move your eyes elsewhere, boy,” he said softly, and Maristela gripped Gaelin’s arm.
But Gaelin didn’t shift, his eyes cool as he looked at Roark. “I’m not challenging you. I think your mate is from my House, and if she is, she’s due a welcome as family.”
Roark looked to Ivoire, and the draga shrugged. “It’s possible. I was sold as Akallan stock.”
Sold? My stomach churned. Slavery was outlawed in Akalla.
But not in the Wildlands . Rhylan slipped into my mind. Kel Tazra is just to the south of Akalla, and one of their largest slave markets.
Gaelin echoed my thoughts. “Sold? You bear the scion-marks of the Mourning Fangs. If you were to come to Diraek Eyrie, Rannas could scent if you were one of ours.”
Ivoire studied him, the similarity of their features, and smiled a little. “What would it matter now? I’ve made my home in the Horde. I have no desire to be locked in a mountain for the rest of my life, when I have all the Wildlands before me.”
Roark, perhaps realizing that Gaelin was, in fact, hung up on House honor and not his mate, chuckled. “Not today, boy. We don’t hold with your Ascendants.”
Gaelin shut up for only a moment, but he still looked disturbed. “But if you were sold, if you were a slave…how did you break free?”
Ivoire smiled widely. “I killed my master. With a fork.”
Roark gave her an absolutely soppy look of devotion.
I glanced at Rhylan.
They grow on you , he assured me. Aunt Ivoire will teach you ways to kill a dragon you’ve never dreamed of .
Kirana coughed again, leaning on the wall. She needed to replenish herself now.
“Library,” I said briskly. “Refreshments. Then we’ll discuss what to do next, now that we’ve got a Horde on our side.”
I herded the dragonbloods through the eyrie door, knowing we would be safe enough inside, that the Horde would keep watch outside. I would need to make a trip to Varyamar’s treasury for kin gifts, to show my appreciation that they would come to aid us.
But for now I did want to be behind the prison of stone walls. I needed something solid between myself and my sister, between her and those I cared about.
Because I’d seen her mouth move, her lips wrapping around words that felt like a bolt to my heart.
You will be mine .