by Pearl Foxx
Kinyi’s arms and legs tightened around him like a jungle serpent squeezing the life out of its prey. The sudden lack of solid footing beneath him made his stomach jump into his throat. His eyes watered as the wind gusted past him, but he kept his head down and his eyes open. The ocean rushed closer and closer. At the last second, he took a deep, long breath and held it.
The water hit them like a concrete barrier.
His grip on Kinyi slipped. Her arms weren’t around his neck anymore. He was completely submerged in the water and sinking deeper. He twisted his arms and legs to stop his descent.
He looked up and found Kinyi a few feet above him, her legs kicking wildly. Then she went limp, her chest heaving as she swallowed mouthfuls of water.
When he’d stopped sinking, he swam upward with powerful strokes, cutting through the water and grabbing her around the waist. His lungs were nearly bursting when he broke through the surface. Almost instantly, a wave took them high up and carried them deep into the trench. It crashed down on them and hurled them back beneath the surface.
The ship’s stabilizers created a storm on the ocean, and the waves kept coming, crashing over his head and pushing them under. They drove him toward the beach with a violence he could barely keep up with, and then sucked them back out with a vengeful undertow.
He crawled onto the beach, choking on water with his breath lodged tight in his throat. His vision spotted with black.
Kinyi’s face was paler than usual, and her lips were blue. He laid her out in the sand and pumped on her chest.
One… Two… Three ...
How long had they been out there, trying to swim back? He couldn’t smell her scent over the ocean’s salt and the pungent jungle. But when he pressed his ear to her chest, he should have heard her heart beating.
He heard nothing but the waves at his back.
“You can’t go out like this,” he growled, resuming the rib-bruising compressions. “You can’t drown.” He punctuated every word with a powerful press of his hands. “Like. Some. Fucking. Wet. Katu.”
He reared back and slammed his fist down on her chest.
A few of her ribs broke in a symphony of cracks.
But she arched off the beach, hacking and choking up the water. Tane rolled her onto her side as she sputtered water, her body contorting with the effort. When she got the last of it out, she collapsed onto her back, her hands clutching her sides as she wheezed in shallow breaths.
“You asshole,” she rasped.
“Proper chest compressions always break a few ribs. Enver taught me that,” Tane defended.
“You almost let me drown.”
“You’re very slippery when wet.”
Her eyes snapped to his and narrowed dangerously. “How the hell did you just make this sexual?”
He placed a quick kiss on her lips. After standing and swiping the sand off his legs, he offered her his hand.
“Don’t drop me. Again.” She took his hand and stood, hissing from her ribs.
“Those will hurt for a while. But you heal fast. I give them a day.”
“I know how fast I heal. Let go of my hand. I’m mad at you.”
She tried to jerk her hand free, but he held it tightly and pulled her against his chest. He kissed her, long and deep, tasting the salt on her lips and the fire in her blood. Already her Draqon blood worked to heal her broken bones. It tasted like a fine wine in his mouth, and any other time, he would have slowed down to savor her flavor, but he nearly trembled with relief. Against his closed eyelids, he saw her pale face and blue lips, her unmoving hands and too still body. It was wrong. It was horrible.
When he released her, she sucked in a deep breath of air, her hand going to her ribs again. “You kiss like you do chest compressions. I’m fine. Calm down. I can smell your relief. It’ll take more than some stupid water to take me out.”
“I know, Ice Queen.” He cupped her injured cheek, his thumb grazing the edge of a missing scale. “But you looked awfully dead to me.”
She sucker-punched him in the stomach. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to steal his breath. He coughed.
She smirked at him. “If you tell another soul about this—”
A low screech built in the sky. They both ducked farther into the jungle and looked up as the sound morphed into a piercing, ear-rupturing scream. A dart of metal tore by high above their heads, followed by another and another. The sun’s final rays gleamed off the metal hulls of the ships, all outfitted with massive guns and cannons, escorted by a handful of larger Falconers. Booms echoed overhead as the ships blasted off, breaking the planet’s sound barrier.
Kinyi twisted around to follow the ships’ progress over the jungle. “Oh no,” she breathed, her face turning pale again. “Why are they already attacking?”
Tane glanced back at the battleship, no other small, combat-equipped ships left the massive carrier. He shook his head. “They can’t be attacking. They didn’t take all the ships. It’s probably just a scouting group.”
“Then why did they take Falconers?”
“Because the hive is far away? It would take them almost an hour to fly to the farthest mountain ranges.”
Kinyi glanced back toward the jungle. “I don’t know. I have a bad feeling—”
An explosion cut her off. It shook the ground and made the surrounding trees rustle and sway.
“Fuck,” Tane growled, grabbing Kinyi’s arm. “That was close. But what would they be dropping bombs on?”
“The Vilkas,” she whispered, horrified as she turned to face him. “That was their mountain.”
Chapter Fifteen
Kinyi
Kinyi took off into the jungle, breaking through the thick, damp leaves and racing into the gloomy depths.
“Kinyi!” Tane shouted. “Wait!”
She didn’t. She ran through the jungle’s darkness, her sharper Draqon eyes showing the path of least resistance. She leaped over a rotting log and slid down a steep incline into a stream lined with rocks.
Before she could push herself back to her feet, Tane pulled her upright. “Hang on a second. It’ll take us days to run to that mountain.”
Another explosion ricocheted through the jungle.
He was right. There wasn’t time to run. What had she been thinking?
“So shift! Fly us there!”
He knew she wasn’t joking this time. His jaw clenched. “Kinyi—”
“No, I can help you!” Her heart pounded. She had no love for the Vilkas, but she knew they were the Draqons’ best allies, and if the humans were willing to attack the Vilkan mountain, the hive would be next.
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“I can help you control the madness.” She gripped Tane’s arm, her fingers practically clawing at his chest. He held her back with a firm grip. “If I’m on your back—”
“I’ll burn you alive.”
“No!” Desperation raged like wildfire in her throat. “You won’t. You can’t. I’m your mate.”
Tane shook his head sadly. “I can’t, Kinyi. Even with you. I can’t.”
“I’m a strong rider! The strongest at the hive. I can control you.”
Another explosion echoed through the jungle, and this time they heard the distant crashing of rock, the slipping and sliding of an avalanche from high up a mountain. Had they blown the top completely off? Had the Vilkas had time to mount a defense? How many shifters would die while they stood here arguing?
“Those humans are killing our best chance at winning this war,” Kinyi growled, getting up in Tane’s face. She had to crane her neck back to glare at him, but she managed. “Without the Vilkas and their ships, we won’t stand a chance. How many more Draqons will you let die because you won’t fight?”
The words struck him like solid blows. She saw their effect splinter across his face, slashing him deep in the oldest wounds of his soul. His violet eyes squinted against the pain. Through their connection, she felt the shame and terror as if th
ey were her own.
But she held her ground. She lifted her chin higher and stared him down. “The time for standing by is over, Tane. It’s time to start righting some wrongs.”
He shuddered. A fine sweat broke out on his brow. His fear smelled stronger than the humir sap on the jungle trees around them. “I’ll kill you.”
“It’s a chance I’m willing to take. We’ll never make it there in time if we run, and we might not make it if we fly, but at least we’re trying. At least we’re flying into the fire and not standing here talking about it.”
“If I kill you, I’ll die too. There’s no way my madness can withstand the loss of my mate. It’ll be too much.”
She nodded, knowing in her heart the truth of his words. “Then let’s not die. Believe in me, Tane. I can ride you. I was made for you.”
His eyes met hers. Their connection turned steely inside her, unbreakable, unbendable. She met his gaze and held it, unwavering and uncompromising. She knew in all the best parts of her that she was meant to be the White Horn’s rider. Tane’s rider. She always had been.
She would ride him.
Even if he set himself on fire, she would ride him through the flames.
Another explosion sounded. Through the highest leaves, a fine ash trickled down, dusting Kinyi’s shoulders. It smelled like death.
“We have to go,” she said, not bothering to brush it off. “Now.”
Tane closed his eyes and pulled in a long breath. Finally, he nodded. “Step back.”
“I’m right here.”
“I want you to run if I can’t control the fire.”
She stepped forward and took his chin in her hands, forcing him to look at her. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right fucking here when you get your shit under control, got it? And when you do, I’m getting on your motherfucking back and we’re going to go kill some humans. So fucking shift already.”
His eyes flashed black, and that was all the warning she had.
He erupted. There was no other way to describe it. She’d seen countless shifts, but never like this. Never anything so violent. So explosive. So hot.
And not in the sense that it turned her on, though it did, but in the sense that when Tane’s body morphed—his massive wings unfolding from his back, his neck stretching out, and his scream ripping through the jungle— fire exploded over his body. The flames settled across his body, curving and curling around his scales.
The heat blasted her back, and after she’d regained her vision, she stared at a burning Draqon, the largest she’d ever seen. His scales were blacker than night, blacker than a burnt pile of bones. Silver etchings highlighted their brutal curves, slashing and curving over his body. His tail had spikes, as did his neck and the cone around his huge head, which snaked toward her, black eyes locking on her. And in the center of his scaled, reptilian head was a huge white horn that wrapped around itself, wickedly sharp and gleaming.
“Holy fucking shit,” she whispered, her heart pounding at the sight of him.
He threw back his head and let out a ground-shaking roar that seared her blood and turned her inside out.
This was the White Horn.
This was the legend that terrified her people.
This was her mate.
“Tane,” she said, holding out a hand. Her voice was firm and calm, like she wasn’t staring down an insanely gigantic Draqon with fire rippling across his scales and the pungent odor of madness choking the air. “It’s me. It’s Kinyi.”
The Draqon growled, his entire body shuddering. But his black eyes blinked at her, the second eyelids dragging over his gleaming eyes. A lick of fire curled out from his mouth and flicked up the side of his face. Even from a distance, the heat was intense.
She fought the instincts that screamed at her to run.
“I’m here,” she said instead, meeting Tane’s eyes. He stood at nearly twice her height, his body almost as large as the clearing they stood in. She’d never practiced vaulting onto a height as tall as his shoulders because no other Draqon was as large as him.
He shook his massive head. The white horn cut through the air like a knife. It could impale a person clean through. But when Tane exhaled, only smoke shot out of his nostrils, and the fire along his back simmered out.
“That’s it,” she crooned. He relaxed further at the sound of her voice. She took a step closer. “I’m here. You know me. You know my smell. Focus on that, Tane. Focus on me.”
She approached close enough to run her palm along the wide bridge of his snout. He lowered his head against her chest and let out a long huff. Skin to skin, she felt him trembling. Through their connection, she sensed his hold on his control was tremulous at best.
But they had to get moving. She knew all too well just how little time the humans’ ships needed to destroy lives.
“I’m going to—” she started.
A resounding boom rocked through the jungle, followed by a straight-line burst of wind. The trees groaned beneath the force, their branches swaying overhead. In those bare patches of light, Tane’s black eyes went blank, his fragile grip on his control lost.
She dove away from him just in time.
A tree cracked and shards of bark flew like projectiles through the air, slicing her skin as she tucked and rolled away from Tane. Against her back, a blast of heat seared her shirt, singeing the fibers to her skin. She scrambled to her feet and swung around to face Tane.
He spread his wings wide. They beat against the surrounding tree trunks as if he wanted to take flight but couldn’t find the room. He thrashed to the side, knocking into another tree and ripping its roots from the ground. He threw his head back and let out an ear-piercing scream that had Kinyi clamping her hands over her ears.
And the fire.
The fire spread from the edges of his scales, across his back, and down his legs. It caught the foliage around him and sparked into countless mini fires. Embers flew from his mouth and lit the jungle floor’s moss.
When he roared again, acid and fire spewed from his mouth. The combination instantly roasted half a tree and a large section of the ground, turning the plants and roots into burnt husks.
All too easily, Kinyi could imagine how all those Draqons and Arakids had died on the mountain. How there had been nothing left of their bodies after the fires had died down.
“Tane!” she shouted above his wild thrashing. “Tane, look at me!”
His long neck snaked toward her. The dull look in his jet-black eyes sent her diving out of the way.
Acid sprayed on the ground where she’d been standing. Some splashed onto her pants and instantly burned through the material and her skin. She kept the grimace from her face with a low hiss through gritted teeth.
“Tane, stop this right now. You’re fine. You’re not going to burn this entire jungle to the ground. The Katu aren’t that bad.”
Instead of shooting acid at her again, his head shook the other way, his eyes clenching shut. The fire along his body flickered, almost blinking out. Without a constant heat source, the smaller fires he’d started died out almost as quickly as they’d begun thanks to the dampness of the jungle.
“That’s it,” she said, keeping her voice light. “Remember, the Katu are friends, not kindling.”
A puff of air left his nostrils. When he looked back at her, nothing but smoke curled from his mouth.
“There.” She dusted the wet dirt off her hands. Mud filled a few cuts along her palms, and she had to clench her fists quickly before he saw how her fingertips trembled, but she managed to level a steady look on him. “Now, we’re going to the Vilkas’ mountain and you will unleash all that fire on some humans. Okay?”
She moved quicker this time, advancing toward him with a certainty she couldn’t risk thinking about too much or she’d be too scared shitless to do what she had to. This was Tane, her mate. She could ride him. So what if he caught fire easily and was ruled by madness? He seemed perfectly sane right then.
She
laid her hand on his shoulder, his scales rippling beneath her hand. His body was ice cold even though it had been on fire moments ago.
“I’m getting on, but I need you to lie down. You’re too big.”
His head twisted around to look back at her, and she winked.
Their connection was still fragile, and when she searched for it deep inside, she tasted only the metallic taste of his madness at the back of her throat. But she knew where it should be, where it was waiting. She sent a steady wave of reassurance down it and out her hand.
Shuddering, he bowed, his wing closest to her sweeping out along the ground and wrapping around her back. As she stepped onto the back of his front leg, he eased her up by gracefully arching his wing joint. She settled on him, her legs spreading wide. His cool scales felt like ice beneath her. She leaned forward and ran her fingers along the larger scales of his neck.
She stroked him, long and slow, until she felt him breathe beneath her. Through their connection, some of the madness lifted like a dense fog, and she felt his heartbeat mirror hers.
“There you are,” she whispered, closing her eyes and feeling him within her. “See? You were right there all along.”
His body rumbled with a growl. Power surged up through her, through their connection. It was so great she knew it could undo them both, but she wrapped it in a tight ball in her stomach and held it fast.
When she opened her eyes, she no longer smelled the metallic madness.
“Let’s fly,” she said.
She barely had time to lean down against his neck before he crouched and kicked off with his back legs, tucking his wings against his sides and rocketing straight up through the opening in the clearing.
With one beat of his massive wings, they cleared the treetops and angled toward the mountain.
Kinyi leaned around his neck, squinting to look far ahead. Her hair streamed behind her, and the wind cut at her clothes. She wished for a pair of tight leathers and a bow, but she wasn’t equipped for this ride. It was nothing like how she’d imagined her first time would go.
It was better.
She opened the connection and let all that rightness, all her joy and happiness, flood into him.
