Her hands slipped under his tunic and all but ripped the garment off. She stared down at his bare chest. "Stars above, Dorvin, you're skinnier than your sister."

His blood boiled too hot to answer. He grabbed her own clothes and tore them off, leaving her naked above him, then sat up and kissed her again. Her legs wrapped around him, and she tossed back her head, and they rolled back down into the grass. She moaned beneath him, and sweat poured down their naked bodies, and this felt like wrestling too, a thing of passion and groans and heat.

"Damn mammoth arse," he whispered into her ear.

She bit his bottom lip, tugging it. "Dung Beetle."

When they finally flew back toward the others, Alina stared with narrowed eyes, blasting out smoke. Behind her flew the group from Bar Luan, forty dragons strong.

"What happened?" the lavender dragon demanded. "I saw fire and heard roars."

Maev turned to fly at Alina's side. "Three demon scouts." She glanced at Dorvin. "Your brother killed all three. Got to them faster than I could."

The lavender dragon nodded toward him. "Good work, brother."

Dorvin nodded back, silent. He looked over at Maev, and the green dragon winked at him.

Her and her damn winks.

He flew among the others, sneaking glances at her. For the first time, he flew without singing or telling rude jokes. He simply glided silently, remembering the heat of her body against his, her full lips, and the light in her eyes.

JEID

 
JEID

He was standing alone on the mountainside when the demon army arrived.

The others were all inside Two Skull Mountain, celebrating the second day of the great wedding—a day of feasting, music played on lutes and drums, and tribal dances with masks of wood and feathers. Jeid had volunteered to stand here outside the cavern, to watch the southern horizon for an enemy attack. He was not one for celebrations, not since that day his twin brother had murdered his wife, not since his daughter Requiem had died. And especially not today, the day he lost Laira too.

And so he had come here, to watch, to wait, to grieve. As he stood outside, alone, the sound of music and laughter rising from the caves, he clenched his jaw and stared south at the distant rain and lightning, waiting for the demons, waiting for war. Perhaps that was all he had left now—war and death, fire and blood.

"When you arrived at the escarpment, half-dead and trembling, I thought that a new light had kindled in my life," he whispered, eyes dry but throat tight. "I lost so many, but I gained you, Laira. A pure soul. Somebody strong yet fragile, compassionate yet unflinching in her struggle against our enemies. And I love you. You gave me new light, new meaning, new hope. And now you too fade from me."