The demons had put all their faith in the magic to keep the dragons at bay. They hadn’t made a backup plan.
The first blast made my dragon flutter her wings and angle away. Cannons.
Scratch that—they hadn’t made a good backup plan.
Another explosion of fire and gunpowder. I saw the glint of the ball as it whizzed toward us, much too low. Those cannons were made to hit ships, not objects in flight.
Tamara flew on my right and Vemar on my left, staying close. Delaney moved in over me as Arleth went below. They were boxing me in. No. As Tamara pushed in close, Vemar giving me space, and Delaney crowded me from up top, I realized they were herding me.
It’s one thing to stay out of the fight, but it is entirely another to be herded away from my mate, my dragon grumbled.
They clearly think you’re going to do something reckless.
I said I wouldn’t? My dragon huffed.
Like that has ever stopped you.
She didn’t comment, but I could feel her unease at being separated from him. She allowed them to lead her but still repeatedly looked over her shoulder, watching Nyfain.
He dipped along the side of the black demon ship, roaring as he swung his tail into the side. He tore open a large gash in the wood and caught cannons in the process, shoving them back or dragging them forward. Two of them pitched over the side, a terrified demon clinging to one of them as it splashed down into the water.
Another dragon—Xavier, I thought—followed behind him, narrowly dodging a cannonball exploding from the ship. He smashed his tail into the gaping hole, knocking cannons farther back and crushing whoever was in the way.
A third dragon puffed fire before following Xavier. The others in the vicinity pumped their wings and gave the dragon some space. In a moment, I saw why.
He dove past the ship and breathed fire into the gaping hole that Nyfain and Xavier had rent into the side. Bursts of flame exploded back out, large plumes coughing from all the openings. He was hitting the highly flammable black powder used to launch the cannonballs. Any loaded cannons went off, but the barrels had been turned askew. Balls burst through the back of the ship or the other side. The cannons jumped back with the force, some too near the opening. Their bases went over the edge, and then they fell into the waiting waters below.
The pull of Nyfain clawed at our middle. My dragon’s anxiety rose, and she slowed. She didn’t want to be herded. She didn’t want to leave her mate. Something in her said we needed to stay close to him. That we had to stay by his side.
I felt Nyfain pull me in through the bond, holding me tightly. He was trying to ease my worry. Or was he trying to ease his own concerns? Whatever he was doing, it wasn’t enough. We didn’t want to let him out of our sight.
This had to be one of those natural urges Arleth had spoken of. She asked that we gave in, but that was impossible right now. I wasn’t supposed to go to him. The feeling of resisting, though, was like being split in half. As though this feeling, this all-consuming need, was something we could simply ignore.
This might take some getting used to, I thought. Keep to our duty. He’s not in danger. He’ll be fine, but Calia might need us. She’s more vulnerable. She’s also our first line of defense against that other ship.
Watch, friends, my dragon said, as the dragon’s entire middle is ripped out through her side because of this fucking feeling. Watch as she bleeds out before falling out of the sky.
Well, well, well, I thought with utter delight. Look who has decided to adopt talking to an invisible audience in times of great stress.
It seems more logical than whatever the fuck is going on with me.
She gritted her teeth against the urge to get back to Nyfain. She doggedly continued along, right behind Calia, boxed in by guards. The rest of the dragons had probably fanned out behind—who was to say? We could barely focus, desperate as we were to turn around.
A ragged roar boomed behind us. Pain pierced our middle. And then he was coming. He was flying toward us, easing the ache caused by our separation.
Oh thank fuck, my dragon thought, breathing deeply, slowing.
Clearly he felt it too, I replied. Turn around so I can see.
No. He felt it too, but he broke first. We have a stronger will. We’re going to own that.
Or he loves us more and you’re a horrible bitch.
It is impossible to love us more than we love him. He is just weaker.
There really was no use arguing with her.
The guard around me fell away, giving me space. The ache at our separation diminished, easing little by little, until it relaxed. My dragon took another deep breath.