Rylin's Fire

by Michelle Howard

  “No. Just more attempts to point fingers at this being an attempt of the Black going after him. I think I managed to convince him of my innocence.”

  Mikal rolled his eyes. “And he believed you?”

  Funny enough, Ry felt like Varyk did.

  Chapter 17

  Someone had indeed dropped off her clothes and belongings. After taking a much needed shower in a bathroom big enough for an entire basketball team, Dara dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a ribbed long sleeve top in red. Most of her tops were long sleeve, since the clime on Vovin was cooler than Earth and they didn’t have changing seasons.

  She ran her hands through her hair with a bit of product to control the curl but didn’t spend a lot of time trying to tame the wild mess. She admired herself in the stand up mirror and wondered what her mother would think if she could see her. The thought caused a pang in her heart.

  This was the longest she’d ever gone without contact with her mom. Dara turned away from her image and debated asking Rylin for use of Vovin’s communication system. The expense of a special face to face call would cost more than Dara could afford since she didn’t have her own established link-phone but surely Rylin and his people had one. She’d ask him when he returned.

  Rylin had been very specific about her waiting and not wandering around on her own. That didn’t stop Dara from stepping outside the door of his suite of rooms.

  Conversation in the hall drifted to her. Most of it pertained to the death of the woman, Shara, and other names she didn’t recognize. Dara bit her lower lip as doubts crept in. It had taken the first ten minutes of standing beneath the stinging hot spray of the shower to stop her mental back and forth.

  “Avi says the body was mutilated,” one of the men muttered.

  “Savaged. We have to keep a closer eye on our females.”

  “Dara Fletcher?”

  The men dispersed when a younger man approached, striding down the long hallway and distracting Dara. “Yes?”

  His tan cheeks pinkened when she faced him. Brown hair fell about a narrow face with thin braids intermixed. He wore black leathers and a black tee shirt made of stretchy material. His eyes swept over her from head to toe and if possible, his face got redder. “I’m Olivan. King Rylin asked me to shadow you until his return. I can show you around the grounds if you like.”

  Holding back an amused grin at his awkward appraisal, Dara nodded. “I’d love that. Thanks.”

  One final check in the room and Dara followed him. He led her into the outer hall and past several opened doors, down a winding stair case into a large open space foyer. The ceilings of the castle soared high above their heads and small rainbows landed throughout the tiled floor from the wall-to-wall glass windows.

  “It’s really bright,” she noted, her steps slowing as she took her first real look at the inside of Rylin’s castle. Spacious came to mind, and empty. There had been people everywhere on her previous visit and yesterday. Today it echoed with an unexpected quiet.

  Olivan offered her a smile over his shoulder and continued toward the front door. “Dracol don’t like to be boxed in.”

  “I bet,” Dara mumbled under her breath.

  Outside Dara received another reminder why she’d selected Vovin. The vast country side laid out before her awed with its simple beauty. There were green lands and soaring mountains for as far as the eye could see. Trees towered high in a field to her right, and Dara could make out the blue of at least three lakes to her left where a steep cliff dropped off.

  “Do you want to walk around?” Olivan asked, shoving the tips of his fingers into the front pocket of his pants.

  Dara faced him with a shrug. In between mating parties, she hadn’t strayed far. “Sure. I haven’t seen much of Vovin except for the tourist sections, and even that’s limited.”

  “Dracol are private and protective of our territory lines.” Olivan picked his way down the path of a rocky incline and Dara kept pace with him. “We’re not fond of outsiders on our land.”

  Keeping her eyes on the ground, Dara held her arms out for balance. Olivan didn’t seem to have any trouble as he made his way. “Well, I’m very much an outsider. I’m from Earth and part of the Singles Program.”

  His shoulders stiffened and his foot slipped before he stopped and turned toward her. “The Singles Program sends women to other worlds looking for males.”

  With his youthful features, Dara didn’t place him at more than eighteen, maybe twenty. But right now, with his gold eyes swirling and the lowered register in his voice, she was reminded that a deadly predator stood with her. Not sure if he meant to ask or make a statement, she replied, “Yes.”

  He waited a beat then nodded. “I’ve heard of them.”

  Dara snorted, humor winning out over her brief moment of fear. “Rylin explained to me about my fellow humans...Earth peers? I don’t think they made a good impression.”

  Olivan cracked a smile. The curving of his lips took the dark haired youth from cute to handsome. His features were in the transition stage from boyhood to adulthood but his body already showed the signs of a muscular frame to come. He’d make some woman very happy if he continued at this rate.

  “They didn’t make a good impression,” he agreed.

  Dara glanced around. “So where exactly are we going?”

  His tanned cheeks reddened. “I thought since the King wanted you to see things, I’d take you to the cliffs.”

  Hearing Rylin referred to as King again caught her off-guard, then the rest of his words sunk in. Her heart skipped a beat and Dara swallowed. “Cliffs?”

  His steps slowed until she was closer and he bumped her with his shoulder. “It’s fun. You’ll see.”

  Then, without waiting to see if she’d follow, Olivan trotted down the rock-strewn path and disappeared beyond the trees.

  “Alright-y.” Dara rubbed her hands together and jogged in the direction after him.

  ***

  Fun. Rylin’s castle was built into the heart of a mountain side, and the surrounding area consisted of jagged peaks and edges that fell off into empty space. As evidence by the sheer rock surface she stood near with Olivan grinning like a loon beside her.

  A crowd of people milled about the area with wooden benches amongst blankets on the ground. Men and women lounged about, smiles on their faces, and children tumbled and played. Occasionally growls or snarls broke out.

  “You like?” Olivan’s smug tone broke into her thoughts.

  But his humor didn’t hold Dara’s attention. It didn’t compare to the magnificent sight of dragons soaring past on enormous wingspans. The air filled with squawks and high pitched screeches that pierced her eardrums. As far as her eyes could see, Dracol dotted the sky in flight.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “Willow left after her mating to join the Silver, but typically the celebration lasts for a full seven-day period.” Olivan frowned. “With the murder of the liras setting everyone on edge, King Rylin thought it best to continue the celebrations. Dracol don’t like to be restrained.”

  “Huh.” The Dracol carried on the same as she imagined people would on Earth, if men were still into marriage and weddings were the big elaborate parties of the past.

  There was food and drink covering several tables with more food piled in the baskets next to the families relaxing on the spread out blankets. She received a few odd looks but for the most part everyone stayed to themselves. Olivan told her funny stories as he introduced her to men and women both young and old.

  She noticed he made a point to emphasize Rylin wanted her as his lira. Only one person did a double take. Olivan tried to steer them away but it didn’t work. The red-head woman who had invaded Rylin’s personal space approached, hips swaying. Her fitted pants and strapless top were enough to drive all eyes to her body. Dara admitted to a twinge of envy.

  “I’m Sana.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Nothing on Dara’s face showed her curiosity about this
woman. She wouldn’t give her the pleasure.

  Olivan grimaced, his efforts to move on obvious, but Dara didn’t budge. His hand grasped Dara’s wrist and tugged. “We’ll see you later, Sana.”

  “He won’t really love you. There will never be children for a Dracol unwilling to let a female close.”

  The whisper was low but Dara knew she was meant to hear. Narrowing her eyes, she whispered back, “That’s my concern, now isn’t it?”

  Sana’s head jerked back as if she hadn’t expected Dara to respond. Thoughtful gold eyes took on a wary cast.

  That’s right, witch. Meet your match. Dara did a mental fist pump for not using profanity. She allowed Olivan to drag her away, glorifying in her minor victory.

  “She used to be with Rylin, right?” Dara asked as soon as they were far enough away.

  Olivan stumbled. “Ah. They...Sana was his lira.”

  Though she’d put two and two together prior to the acknowledgment, it hurt. More than she wanted it to. The woman was gorgeous. Dara massaged the ache in her chest. “And they’re not together anymore.”

  “No!” came Olivan’s sharp retort, startling her. He once more pinkened. “Sana is lira to Mikal. They have a little one.”

  Dara followed the direction he indicated and caught her breath. The little girl with bright red curls defined adorable. Her giggle trilled on the air as she chased a smaller little girl with black hair in pig tails.

  “She’s pretty.” Gold eyes, red hair and slender arms and legs as she raced around. Mikal’s daughter, not Rylin’s.

  “Van, who’s with you?”

  Dara turned and froze at the man from the mating who had been with Breya. He walked toward them slow and steady, brown hair ruffling from his pace. Olivan tensed and side-stepped in a subtle manner, which placed him in front of Dara. She bit her bottom lip in amusement at having a teen watch over her.

  “What do you want, Ranald?” Olivan may have appeared young, but nothing in the rumbling growl coming from his chest sounded youthful. The playful humor of earlier faded and he faced the man who drew to a halt beside them

  “Is this the female our King favors over his own kind?” Amusement danced in the gold eyes as the dark haired man leaned to the side to see her.

  Olivan adjusted his stance and snarled. “She’s no concern of yours.”

  Not sure of the cause for the animosity, Dara reached up and squeezed Olivan’s shoulder. She moved from behind him and smiled. “Hi, I’m Dara.”

  When she extended her hand, Ranald mirrored Rylin’s gesture from the day they met and kissed her knuckles. Olivan grumbled and shouldered Dara aside gently. Ranald only smiled, his handsome features bordering on beautiful, almost but not quite on Rylin’s level.

  “Van is being protective.” Apparently this amused him to no end.

  “Why?” Dara didn’t understand the vibes but at least the tension only seemed on Olivan’s part.

  Ranald smirked. “Because our King has already lost one lira to another, perhaps.”

  Olivan folded his arms across his chest. “Don’t you need to follow Breya around?”

  “Be careful, young one,” Ranald snapped, his face wiped clean of laughter.

  This time Olivan’s lips ticked up in the corner. “Maybe you need to make sure no one steals your lira.” Olivan leaned forward. “Oh, wait, you already did that to King Konlan.”

  Ranald’s arm lashed out and gripped Olivan by the shirt, but Olivan reached out and pushed Dara behind him. Her arms flailed before she fell to the ground. They’d drawn the attention of the others but she had no time for embarrassment as the two men shifted, their massive Dracol forms taking up space.

  She scrambled backward crab style then stumbled to her feet. Glancing around frantically, Dara yelled, “Stop them!”

  No one paid her any mind, all eyes on the two Blacks charging at one another. Ranald’s claws raked Olivan’s scaled side and Dara cried out. Olivan’s barbed tail coiled out with whip-like speed around the forelegs of Ranald, sending both colliding into a tree. The trunk split, branches and leaved splintering.

  “To the sky!” A voice thundered.

  Dara spun and recognized Layne, his long red hair up in a high ponytail. He pointed toward the edge of the cliff and puffs of smoke trailed from his nostrils. Ranald snapped at Olivan before racing to the edge and leaping into the air. Olivan followed, the ground trembling from the pounding steps.

  Layne turned his back on them and glared at Dara. “What happened? What did you do?”

  Heart in her throat, she squeaked, “Me?”

  He stormed in her direction, gold eyes blazing. “Olivan’s not hotheaded and Ranald only gets worked up about Breya.”

  Her temper flared. “Yeah, well, you might want to take that up with them.”

  He growled low and rumbly, but Dara’s attention stayed on the fight taking place in the air above them. The only reason she could tell the Dracol apart was because Olivan was leaner, his smaller form tumbling beneath the fierce blows from Ranald.

  She winced when Ranald’s jaws clamped on Olivan’s mid-section. “Please, can’t you do something?”

  “Only a fool would get between two battling raptors.”

  Dara scanned those present, looking for one man in particular. “Rylin, then? Where is he? Can someone find him?”

  Surely as King, he could command his men not to fight. Layne folded his arms over his chest. “He will know. The mantle will warn if they’re in danger of serious injury.”

  Dara gaped. Both of the dragons bore lacerations on their sides. From her position on the ground, blood ran in rivulets down their sides yet no one seemed to find this the least bit concerning.

  That didn’t count as serious injury?

  Chapter 18

  “Any signs?” Ry waited as Mikal rose from kneeling.

  The two of them had spent most of the morning going over every detail, including the information conveyed from the other Dracol Kings.

  His friend huffed a frustrated sigh. “It doesn’t make sense. How is he doing it?”

  Ry wondered the very same thing as they tracked for signs of the attacker. The three liras from his sect had all been killed during the night, no signs of struggle, leaving him to believe they had knowledge of their attacker.

  “Wait.” Ry studied the most recent site of the last slain lira. “The other liras. What were the differences?”

  “The marking was on all of them except the first, I believe. Same location on the body.” Mikal frowned. “According to Faris, Varyk, and Konlan, only the last five females were missing their hearts, and slesh suggested he ate theirs as well as Shara’s.”

  “What else? There’s something I’m missing.” Ry paced back and forth. The answer rested at the edge of his mind. “No struggle. Familiarity.”

  Mikal froze. “That’s it.”

  “What?” Ry paused, his attention on him. His essence swirled, bringing his Dracol close to the surface.

  Mikal’s blond hair stood on end. “Struggle. Only the liras from the Black didn’t struggle. The females from the other sects bore claw marks and bruises. Milana also fought back.”

  Ry snarled and fought the desire to shift and hunt. There was only one conclusion. “He’s one of ours.”

  A Black was responsible for the deaths. Someone who had the ability to hide beneath the notice of the mantle. It shouldn’t be possible, and yet there was no other answer.

  “How do you wish to handle this?”

  Ry didn’t question his friendship with Mikal. They’d grown up together, learned to fly together, and mourned their parents together—lost from a battle between the Black and Green too many years ago to count. The biggest stumbling block to ever hinder their friendship came when Mikal fell in love with Sana.

  Their relationship developed after Ry made it clear things with the female were over. Mikal made no secret of his infatuation with his lira. Until recently, that was.

  “I must speak with Nolan,” R
y declared. “There has to be something to explain why I can’t find a hint of a disturbed mind when I search. Knowing the mate connection can be blocked leaves us with another mystery too.”

  And Ry didn’t like mysteries. Not when it inhibited his ability to provide protection to his people.

  “I’ll warn Sana to keep Ani close to home.”

  Which brought Ry to one more item on his list of worries. “The mantle doesn’t allow me to intrude on your mating connection. What’s happening with the two of you?”

  Ry almost missed the subtle tightening of Mikal’s muscles. “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

  Ry shot him a look and straddled a broken log. “You’d lie to your King?”

  Mikal snorted and propped a foot at the opposite end of the log. “My King wasn’t asking about my mating.”

  “True,” Ry conceded, tipping his head back so they could face each other eye to eye. “As your friend, give me the truth. Does it have anything to do with me?”

  “No.” Mikal sighed, the sound conveying a wealth of meaning. “She’s been not herself recently. I thought it was jealousy. That maybe she wished she’d stayed with you.”

  Ry winced. “I don’t have feelings for her any more. What we shared has long been gone.”

  Mikal grinned. “I know. But Sana always wants more. There’s a hole inside that she tries to fill. It’s why you and she never would have worked. She wouldn’t have made you happy. I filled that void for her until recently.”

  Ry pondered this new knowledge. He had considered Sana needy during their brief time together. Would she have eventually made him unhappy?

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Mikal’s laugh rolled free. “No, but thanks for the offer. Sana isn’t your biggest fan.”

  Ry grimaced. She wasn’t a favorite of his either, after the way she’d gone about things, but that was something he wouldn’t share with Mikal.

  “And you?” Mikal probed. “What are your feelings for the Earth woman?”