kin, and he would not let them be slaughtered!
Two Mambas came at him, blades snaking high and low. Rage boiled in him, his skin burning with Fire. One of them managed to cut his thigh, but he didn’t even feel it. With his dragon riding so close to the surface, nothing could touch him.
A child wailed to his right. Sparing a glance, he could only watch helplessly as a Mamba warrior raised his scimitar.
“No!” His gut twisted, bile rising in his throat. The boy was his nephew, the only child he would ever be able to claim. His younger brothers had been lost to the Fire. His mother, dead of suffering and heartache. And Chanda, his fierce, lovely mate who would never bear his children. Who would never have her own tent in his sepah.
Chanda touched his mind, flooding him with concern. Chains, dragon wings clipped, savage fighting, killing.
He knew the risk. But it was too late. :Forgive me, my love.:
Skin tore open down his back. Fire raged. And wings exploded about him.
Roaring a warning, I scrambled toward Jalan, but it was too late. Black leather wings flapped and Fire overwhelmed his control. His calm acceptance disappeared in a raging flood of flames.
Agony, oh Somma, such agony.
My stone warrior was gone. Forever.
After so many disappointments, all the betrayals and heartaches in my accursed life, it shouldn’t have surprised me that I would lose him, too, that the Gods would ruin such a magnificent warrior.
Rage—my oldest and dearest friend—ate my heart, burned my gut, until I launched at the Mamba dragon. I wanted to kill. I needed to kill. Maybe, then, my heart would stop hurting.
Young in the ways of dragons, though, the fledgling male proved poor sport. Even the chained Red had fought better. I seized the Mamba’s throat and threw him onto his back. He clawed at my underbelly, barely scoring me, but I clamped my jaws tighter and growled.
I remembered holding Jalan. His slight human shoulder in my jaws, his skin fragile on my teeth, and I wanted to throw my head up and curse the moon all over again.
A heavy weight slammed into me, pinning me against the Mamba. With a hateful urge to kill as fierce as mine, the eviscerated Red could not simply lie down and bleed out his life on the poisoned sands. His black spiraled horn slid over my shoulder and plunged into the other male. Screaming with rage, the mottled dragon thrashed beneath me, his claws gripping me close as though I could somehow save him.
Not with a vicious horn in his heart.
The Red rumbled a low purr against my back. His jaws worked on my shoulder, not biting, exactly, but letting me know he was there. He touched Jalan’s mark, and my stomach clutched with revulsion. I should have ripped the Red’s heart out and eaten it.
With a slam of my shoulder, I broke his horn off. Bellowing, the Red tried to crush me, dropping all his impressive weight on me. I called forth my rage, my hatred, the blazing power of the Fire I carried in my heart. I glowed as brightly as the moon above.
The full moon...
Writhing, I fought the curse. I needed to be a dragon to fight for Jalan. I wouldn’t let his sacrifice be in vain.
As always, though, I was powerless against the Gods. Very human, very weak compared to the monster mauling me, I yanked the black horn out of the dead dragon cooling beneath me. The Red closed his jaws on my shoulder again, shredding my skin. His claws dug into me as he flipped me over. He sniffed at my chest, my stomach, evidently surprised at the change in me. I still smelled like a female dragon, but I certainly didn’t look like one.
Sorrow choked me and tears leaked from my eyes. Jalan, my stone warrior, a beast now like this one. Moonlight flooded my veins in a raging flood of grief. I shoved that magic into the Red, and he reared back in shock. I plunged his own horn into his wide red-scaled chest, driving deep, using all my strength to search for his heart.
A massive black shadow snatched
Two Mambas came at him, blades snaking high and low. Rage boiled in him, his skin burning with Fire. One of them managed to cut his thigh, but he didn’t even feel it. With his dragon riding so close to the surface, nothing could touch him.
A child wailed to his right. Sparing a glance, he could only watch helplessly as a Mamba warrior raised his scimitar.
“No!” His gut twisted, bile rising in his throat. The boy was his nephew, the only child he would ever be able to claim. His younger brothers had been lost to the Fire. His mother, dead of suffering and heartache. And Chanda, his fierce, lovely mate who would never bear his children. Who would never have her own tent in his sepah.
Chanda touched his mind, flooding him with concern. Chains, dragon wings clipped, savage fighting, killing.
He knew the risk. But it was too late. :Forgive me, my love.:
Skin tore open down his back. Fire raged. And wings exploded about him.
Roaring a warning, I scrambled toward Jalan, but it was too late. Black leather wings flapped and Fire overwhelmed his control. His calm acceptance disappeared in a raging flood of flames.
Agony, oh Somma, such agony.
My stone warrior was gone. Forever.
After so many disappointments, all the betrayals and heartaches in my accursed life, it shouldn’t have surprised me that I would lose him, too, that the Gods would ruin such a magnificent warrior.
Rage—my oldest and dearest friend—ate my heart, burned my gut, until I launched at the Mamba dragon. I wanted to kill. I needed to kill. Maybe, then, my heart would stop hurting.
Young in the ways of dragons, though, the fledgling male proved poor sport. Even the chained Red had fought better. I seized the Mamba’s throat and threw him onto his back. He clawed at my underbelly, barely scoring me, but I clamped my jaws tighter and growled.
I remembered holding Jalan. His slight human shoulder in my jaws, his skin fragile on my teeth, and I wanted to throw my head up and curse the moon all over again.
A heavy weight slammed into me, pinning me against the Mamba. With a hateful urge to kill as fierce as mine, the eviscerated Red could not simply lie down and bleed out his life on the poisoned sands. His black spiraled horn slid over my shoulder and plunged into the other male. Screaming with rage, the mottled dragon thrashed beneath me, his claws gripping me close as though I could somehow save him.
Not with a vicious horn in his heart.
The Red rumbled a low purr against my back. His jaws worked on my shoulder, not biting, exactly, but letting me know he was there. He touched Jalan’s mark, and my stomach clutched with revulsion. I should have ripped the Red’s heart out and eaten it.
With a slam of my shoulder, I broke his horn off. Bellowing, the Red tried to crush me, dropping all his impressive weight on me. I called forth my rage, my hatred, the blazing power of the Fire I carried in my heart. I glowed as brightly as the moon above.
The full moon...
Writhing, I fought the curse. I needed to be a dragon to fight for Jalan. I wouldn’t let his sacrifice be in vain.
As always, though, I was powerless against the Gods. Very human, very weak compared to the monster mauling me, I yanked the black horn out of the dead dragon cooling beneath me. The Red closed his jaws on my shoulder again, shredding my skin. His claws dug into me as he flipped me over. He sniffed at my chest, my stomach, evidently surprised at the change in me. I still smelled like a female dragon, but I certainly didn’t look like one.
Sorrow choked me and tears leaked from my eyes. Jalan, my stone warrior, a beast now like this one. Moonlight flooded my veins in a raging flood of grief. I shoved that magic into the Red, and he reared back in shock. I plunged his own horn into his wide red-scaled chest, driving deep, using all my strength to search for his heart.
A massive black shadow snatched
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