“You left me! You left all of us! Your father would have at least tried, he would—”

I decided that was enough, grabbing her wrists and twisting. She fell to the ground, her eyes wide with panic. I stood over her, firm but gentle.

“My father got us into this mess, getting the last female and himself killed by going after Rhyfel! I banished us in a deal with the Overlord to save our species! That is why I couldn’t save you!”

I released her and Wyrren rushed forward. She fell back into his arms as Kieran let Ronan go, and I sat on the ground bleeding. Every one of Enya’s sobs was a dagger to my chest.

“I’m sorry. There were so few choices. I did my best.”

Her head burrowed into Wyrren’s chest. He had known her father, her mother, her whole family. She’d known me as a snot-nosed little boy, trailing behind my sister as she learned how to rule at my father’s knee. I jerked, not having thought of my sister Baila in ages.

“I did my best,” I repeated.

Enya sniffed, and we fell into silence. The other four females refused to come out of the lava tube, and I had promised them no one else would be allowed in without their express invitation. I didn’t even know who they were, and Enya refused to tell me. She said if I couldn’t remember who was lost, then it didn’t matter anyway. Her rage was justified.

On the other hand, I had my own horde of aging, unmated drakens to hold back. Ideally, I wouldn’t have told them about the females at all, but the moment we awoke from unconsciousness, they could smell them on the island. The witches set up their own wards around the lava tube and their meadow, and Wyrren and I did what we could to add to them. I forbid any unmated drakens to approach the females on pain of death. I prayed they didn’t see fit to test me.

“I don’t care if you hate me for the rest of your life,” I began, needing Enya to understand, “just please, will you counsel my queen?”

Enya’s cries quieted and her eyes peeked up over Wyrren’s shoulders, frowning when she saw no one else. “You have a queen?”

The amount of disbelief in her voice was almost insulting. I couldn’t help it; I arched a cocky eyebrow. “Rhyfel’s daughter.”

Enya lunged forward and grabbed my ear like she had when I was a child. I hissed in pain but didn’t fight her. “If I find out you have forced her—”

“Kieran and I mated with her also!” Ronan shouted, his eyes alight in shock at seeing his king held by his ear like a naughty drakling.

Enya’s eyes shot to Kieran, who held up his hands and nodded. “It’s true. He held the Draken Games and said—”

Enya dropped me and I rolled away, wincing as I touched my sore ear. “I can well imagine what he did.” Her grip on Wyrren’s wrist was a vice, and when she let go, I could see the indentations left in his scales.