Page 85 of The King’s Man (The Kingdom of the Krow #3)

~ DONAVYN (Pronounced DON-ah-vin) ~

One of the young females, a goldscale, stretched her head into the aisle of the stables and bugled at Kgosi as we passed. She must be coming into heat. She wasn’t nearly mature enough for him to consider as a mate, yet she ruffled her wings and raised her tail, calling again as we walked on.

I shook my head, chuckling at the display—then looked at my dragon, incredulous, when he preened, fluttering his wings and snaking his head, trotting two paces before he slowed again, tail lashing so that one of the stablehands gave a shout and was forced to leap out of the way or lose a limb.

“Did you just prance?”

‘Don’t pretend you don’t walk taller when a beautiful female appreciates your form.’

“And you call yourself an alpha? What’s next? Frolicking?”

‘Jealous?’

“Of your high-knee-step?” I guffawed. “No. But if you could locate your dignity, I’d like to get out of here without breaking anything. Or anyone,” I said dryly as I looked back towards the stablehand.

The Dragon Keep which incorporated the stables and its outbuildings, barracks, and servants quarters, had been built generations earlier when our herds were three times the size.

These aisles were designed to allow two fully mature male dragons to pass each other comfortably.

But Kgosi—the Primarch of the herd, and our only blackscale—was so massive, and so dominant, the other males either made themselves small, or slipped into empty stables until he had passed.

Now it looked like the stablehands would start ducking behind walls to avoid his tail.

Amused, I eyed my dragon thoughtfully.

His gleaming black scales shone like diamonds, pulsing with health and that indescribable flicker that always reminded me of glowing coals at the base of a fire. As if the fire within the dragons was only barely contained by their skins, and sought its way out.

Aware of my scrutiny, Kgosi’s deep, amber eye set on the side of his head, swiveled to lock on me and his nostrils pinched, his ears pinning back as if he were angry. One of the stablehands who was just leaving a freshly turned stable looked at him nervously.

‘Stop posturing. You’re scaring the young ones,’ I sent silently through the bond.

‘Then they are too soft.’ Kgosi snorted two, sharp plumes of smoke, growling so low and deep the floor under my feet vibrated, and a smattering of dust trickled from the rafters high overhead. ‘If they hope to make their lives with the Fury, they should applaud strength, not fear it.”

I rolled my eyes and sighed like he’d irritated me, though it was an act, and he knew it.

Kgosi pretended vanity, but in truth, my dragon was incredible.

I respected him more than any man. He was wise, courageous, astute with both dragons and humans, and steady as a rock.

He was also fucking formidable. There were days I was glad he was my dragon and I wasn’t forced to face him without the benefit of the bond.

If I hadn’t known the softness of his heart, and how heavily he carried the responsibility of his rank, I would probably have wet my leathers every time he looked at me.

‘No. But you might have shit yourself once or twice. Especially when you were younger.”

I coughed to cover a laugh because I didn’t want to give him the pleasure. But I couldn’t resist resting a hand on his foreleg for a moment as we walked. Even now after two decades together, just touching my dragon thrilled me to this day.

Sometimes I was still surprised he’d Chosen me—or any human for that matter.

Even messenger dragons saw humans as frail and lacking resilience.

As the battle Fury, and herd Primarch, mighty even among his kind, Kgosi seemed convinced we humans were each just one strong puff of wind away from falling on our faces.

I was about to see my fortieth summer, but Kgosi had chosen me when I was just eighteen. Barely a man. Even now I felt inadequate to his wisdom and strength. Ironic, since I’d been quite full of myself and convinced I’d make a perfect rider for a Primarch when he Chose me.

‘Ah, the arrogance of youth. You humans cling to it well into your years,’ he murmured in my head with a sly look at me from the side. I was going to shoot back when the female behind us bugled again and I glanced over my shoulder at her.

“Speaking of the arrogance of youth—surely she’s too young for you?” I asked him.

It wasn’t a joke. Kgosi was ancient. Over two hundred years old.

And he’d remain in his prime until long after I died, even if our bond extended my vital years.

A healthy dragon could live five centuries, and Kgosi was more than healthy.

He was massive, intelligent, courageous and possessed a rock-solid steadiness that I envied.

‘You forgot noble, gallant, and handsome ,’ he prodded.

“For an ancient, you’re very vain,” I muttered, striding down the wide aisle with a nod to any of the Furyknights caring for their dragons. To a man, they snapped to attention when they saw me, saluting with a fist to their chest until I’d passed.

‘It is not vain to know your worth, Donavyn.’

“To know it? No. But to announce it to others?” I grinned at him from the side.

Kgosi huffed, but didn’t respond because we had reached the end of the aisle and the double-width stable that was his.

Only the Primarch had a stable large enough to accommodate more than one dragon. I flipped the massive, steel locking mechanism on the door and yanked it back. The metal rang, echoing in the tall rafters. Then I grasped the thick handle with both hands to haul one side of the door back.

‘Do you need assistance, Donavyn?’ Kgosi asked breezily. I glared at him as I dragged the heavy door back on its rails to give him room to pass. We locked his stable mainly to keep the stablehands from endlessly cleaning it. But also because Kgosi was fastidious.

When I’d dragged the door far enough back, Kgosi flowed into the huge space and made a beeline for the trough.

As he dipped his jaw into the water and lifted his head to drink, I reminded myself that this wasn’t a simple stroll for fun. We had things to discuss. Difficult things.

I sighed.

‘I assume I don’t need to ask what weighs on you, brother?’ Kgosi asked as if it were no matter.

I was touched to my bones whenever he named me family like that, but this wasn’t the moment for emotional displays.

‘I’m sure you can. Did you have a chance to speak with the matriarchs?’ I sent silently. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted overhead by… well, anyone. Dragon or human.

A low rumble that was either frustration or irritation—possibly both—rolled out of Kgosi and vibrated in my ribs.

‘I did,’ he said, his tone grim.

Not a good sign.

‘And?’

Kgosi took two more long draws from the trough before turning and dropping his head so that he could meet my eye. ‘The Dames tell me they do not know the cause.’

I grit my teeth, hands clenching at my sides. ‘Are you certain? The birthrates have dropped before, but there’s barely a dozen eggs incubating this winter and—’

‘I am not in need of convincing there is a problem, Donavyn,’ Kgosi sent acidly. ‘The Creator simply has not yet revealed the solution.’

I caught myself and started again. I knew this was a sensitive subject to the dragons for whom reproduction was very slow, and often unsuccessful, even when the herds were thriving.

But in the past century our rates of mating pairs was dwindling—and that meant fewer and fewer dragons born and reaching maturity for the generations of Furyknights to come.

‘There must be a reason the females aren’t taking mates. Are we humans interfering in some way? Do we need to bring in fresh bloodlines? I could speak with the Furymaster in Emberholt to see if we could trade some young males?'

‘New males would only cause more problems than they might sol—’ Kgosi suddenly raised his head towards the door, his eyes narrowing and crest standing tall.

“What is it?” I asked quickly. I’d seen my dragon lumber past an all-out frenzy between young males and barely flick his tail. If he’d gone on alert, something big had happened.

There was a beat before he answered, as if he measured his words.

‘A new Flame is born,’ he sent, his deep voice somehow even more resonant than usual, settling into my skull, the words brimming with portent. But he didn’t turn back to me. His head stayed high as if he were listening intently.

A new Flameborne was exciting—it meant a dragon had chosen a potential bond rider who could one day become a Furyknight. But it wasn’t earth shattering. I’d never seen a Choosing stop Kgosi in his tracks before.

“Keg? Which of the dragons Chose—?” The shouts were distant, but finally reached my ears. Tight and protesting. Not shouts of celebration or honor as I would have expected when a dragon made their claim. Something else must have happened. “What now?” I muttered.

In answer, Kgosi snorted plumes of steam and smoke in a short burst. ‘Come. We are needed.’

He started out of the wide door before he’d finished the words in my head forcing me to trot to catch up, or be left behind.

By the time we made it out of the stables to the edge of the launch hollow quite a crowd had gathered.

At first I thought there must be young bucks fighting, or some other drama among the herd, because there were ten or more dragons in the air overhead, wheeling and calling, yet none of them gave any sign of landing.

I’d only seen that behavior when a baby dragon hatched and the herd were guarding the skies.

Shading my eyes from the sun, I looked up. “Keg, what are they—”

‘Donavyn.’

My dragon’s voice was deep, insistent. Worried.

I snapped my head around to look for whatever he’d seen, just as the men and dragons on the ground parted to let him through, and so a path opened all the way to the bottom of the bowl, and I caught a glimpse of what looked to be a gray dragon.

A young female—her horns weren’t even curved yet.

She was curled up on the ground at the base of the hollow, her rump drawn towards her shoulder and her legs folded towards her belly.

Her wings were only half-retracted. I wondered if she’d somehow fallen from the sky—had she been injured?

But then she flapped them when someone walked too close.

Her tail lashed like a cat’s, and she opened her mouth to hiss when one of the handlers stepped closer respectfully asking to help her.

‘Is she injured?’ I asked Kgoshi, confused.

The dragons could be dramatic in their displays. But they were usually stoic in the face of pain or danger.