Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Azar doesn't like the word “bully.” It's clear from the way his nostrils flare and his hand tightens in mine. But when I keep on giving him calm, encouraging looks, he caves. Azar nods and waves the women out.
The militia step in, herding the women outside.
"Calm," I remind him as we follow behind. "Everyone's on your side, Azar. I promise they are. I know you're stressed, baby, but I'm here with you. We'll get this figured out, all right?"
He gives me another unhappy look, but he nods. "If I'm losing control of them…"
"You're not," I promise. "I'm sure it was just a fluke occurrence."
"I need to be able to keep you safe. To keep everyone here safe." He's threatening to spiral again, his angst growing by the second. "What if I'm losing my grip? What if I lose the drakoni entirely? How can I keep the fort safe if I do not have the dragons?" Azar shakes his head. "What if whatever is threatening us from the Rift interrupts my connection with them?" The look on his face is tortured. "I could be inviting death right to your doorstep, my Melina."
He's worried about me? My heart aches for him all over again. Even in the midst of breaking down, his biggest fear is still my safety. How can I be mad? "We'll figure this out, baby. I swear. We'll take the girls outside and you can let the dragons go for a moment, just to see how they react to the women. If they've recovered enough that you don't need to keep them in stasis, that's a good thing, right? They'll be on our side and one less thing for you to worry about."
Azar is silent. Finally, he nods.
"Right. Great." I squeeze his hand, encouraging. "I'm here with you. Deep breaths, all right?"
Azar's eyes flutter closed and he takes a deep breath, even as we step outside. I suck in at the cold air that rips through my flimsy dress, and then my mate is right there immediately, taking off his shirt—he's wearing a militia uniform tonight, no doubt in an attempt to win the men over—and tucking it around me. He frowns at the world around us, at the nighttime air as if it's to blame for all the chaos, and then his gaze settles on the Rift, pulsing and ugly even at night.
I touch his hand, reminding him that I'm at his side.
He seems to shake himself awake again, adjusting his shirt around my shoulders protectively. His long hair whips about in the brisk night air, and he looks beautiful in the moonlight, pale and unworldly. He takes a few steps forward, glaring at the women as they line up obediently in the street. Then, Azar turns back to me. "I do not like letting them go."
The dragons.
I step forward, both sympathetic and determined. If these dragons and the girls are going to be a problem, we have to fix it. I'm not going to let them tear Azar apart from within. I care for him too much to watch it just happen. "I know. It's just for a moment. You do want to see if someone's interfering with your dragons, do you not?"
Azar grimaces.
"You can trap them again," I point out, "If you must."
"You know I must. They are the only things that keep this fort safe. I will keep everyone here safe. I will keep you safe." He gives me a betrayed look.
So dramatic, this man. "Then go on."
"Why do I always feel as if I've lost against you even when I've won?" Azar asks, and for a moment his expression is so bleak that I'm startled. What brought that on? What is he talking about? Before I can ask, he turns his back to me, facing away, and there's a low roar in the distance, from the direction of the fort's barricade.
The gathered women panic. Someone cries out, and another tries to bolt. The air whips around us, spraying dirt in my face, like a sudden storm.
"Remain where you are!" one of the guards cries. "If you run, you will be shot!"
What the fuck? Alarm flares through me, as this is quickly getting out of hand. I surge forward, the wind tearing at my hair and clothes. "No they won't! Don't you dare fucking threaten that! Azar, tell them!"
My lover is silent. Surely he can't want the women shot if they run? Frantic, I race to his side, only to skid to a halt. Azar isn't “with” me right now. He's physically present, but his spine is arched, his shoulders back, as if he's being bent with the force of his thoughts. His eyes are closed, his face taut—
And then I see them.
A massive, gray-eyed dragon lands in front of him. Then another. And another. They're off the barricade, and they no longer look so friendly or helpless. They look terrifying. Behind me, the girls scream, and I remain where I am. I'm afraid to move, because what if a dragon sees that movement and attacks me? I don't know how they think—only Azar does.