Liorax:

We hurry to the main clearing. Herrix and Belfox are standing in the middle of the woods, and at their side is a body. People are crowded around them. “Someone is attacking us,” Herrix says loudly. “Someone has already killed one of us.”

The other Draekons part as we approach. I close in until I can see the dead man’s face. It’s Jorix. I haven’t seen him in years, not since he left camp after his fight with Dariux. Time has not been kind to him. His clothes are tattered and torn, and his body is gaunt. Blue blood is crusted around a gaping wound in his throat.

At my side, Olivia makes a small sound of distress. I turn to her in concern. Her face is pale, and her grip on my hand tightens, but she nods resolutely. “I’m fine,” she tells me before I ask.

Swearing softly, Zunix kneels next to the dead man. “Where did you find him?” he asks Herrix and Belfox.

Belfox answers. “We were on the eastern bank of Lake Tuli,” he says. “We found a small treehouse nearby. Jorix must have been living there. Until this happened.”

A pang of regret cuts through me. We should have looked for the others. Both Zunix and Dariux have excellent tracking skills. I should have insisted. But I’d reasoned that the men that left the camp knew where we were. They could return any time they chose. If they preferred to be alone, I respected that.

But now Jorix is dead. Someone killed him. Who could do such a thing, and why?

The air around us is tense. Everyone is nervous and angry. The human women look frightened, and their mates flank them protectively. Zunix’s sharp eyes take it all in. “I do not have a good feeling about this,” he says to me, his voice pitched low. “Where’s Dariux?”

Dariux is nowhere to be seen, and neither is the human woman, Bryce McFarland. I stifle a curse. They must have gone on another foraging trip. I have no love for Dariux, but the man is coldly logical, and right now, that’s exactly what we need. We need to stay calm.

Unfortunately, Herrix seems intent on whipping everyone into a frenzy. “We are about to leave to find the other women, and we’re attacked,” he shouts, his voice carrying through the clearing. “Is this a coincidence?” He stares at each one of the assembled Draekons. “I don’t think so.”

“What are you saying, Herrix?” someone calls out. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that the other exile batch must have killed him,” he says flatly. His expression is hard, his eyes angry. “We have done them no harm, and they have attacked us.” He pauses for an instant. “I don’t have to tell you why. You already know.”

“They’re coming for our mates,” Luddux yells. Extremely convenient timing. Olivia’s right. Luddux and Xanthox are allying themselves with Belfox and Herrix. “The four humans with them must have told them about our women, and they are coming to claim them.”

Zunix exchanges a glance with me. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he snaps. “You don’t know who killed Jorix.” He looks around at the assembled Draekons. “It could be one of us.”

“No, Zunix.” Herrix’s expression is triumphant. “We are all innocent in this.” He pulls a knife from his pack and holds it up in the air. “I found this blade near Jorix’s body. Take a look. Tell me if you’ve ever seen this metal before.”

Zunix takes it from him and examines it carefully, his face growing bleak. “You’re right,” he says finally. “This knife isn’t one of ours. Our weapons are syn-made, and this,” he sighs, “isn’t.”

“Exactly.” Herrix surveys the assembled Draekons. “They’re not coming here to talk to us. They’re not coming to join up with us. They’re coming to kill us and take our mates.” He raises his voice. “Are we going to let that happen?”

A wave of angry sound fills the clearing. “No.”

We’re losing control. The men have become a mob now. They’re not thinking clearly. Blood is running hot in their veins. I can feel their rage, their anger, their determination to protect their human mates.

“Is it a plant?” Olivia whispers. “Do you think Herrix killed that guy?”

Zunix shakes his head. “I don’t know what he’s doing,” he says softly. “I don’t know if I should stop this or not. I don’t even know if I can.”

“They think they can attack us and steal our women,” Herrix shouts. “They think we are going to stand aside and watch, passive and afraid. Are we going to let that happen?”

“No,” everyone shouts again.

Every instinct tells me that Herrix is up to something, but like Zunix, I don’t know what to do. Jorix is dead. Someone killed him. Who? Why?

“We must set guards around the perimeter of our camp,” Belfox says. “We must patrol the skies. If they have transformed, they will be able to rain fire down on us.”

“Never,” Luddux screams. “We will burn them first.”

Just then, Bolox points to the sky. “Look,” he exclaims. “There, coming in from the east. Do you see something?”

I follow his gaze, and I see it. Two dots on the horizon, growing larger as they approach rapidly toward our camp.

Two dragons.

One crimson red, and the other as black as night.

Six Draekons in our camp can transform at will, and they are all here. These dragons aren’t ours. They have to be from the other exile batch.

Snarls of rage fill the clearing. The ground shakes beneath our feet as one by one, each of the six Draekons shifts into his dragon and unfurls his wings. “Attack,” Herrix screams. “Kill them.”

I can only watch, frozen with horror, as the six dragons take to the skies. They surround the two Draekons, and someone—it’s Luddux, impulsive and hotheaded as ever—opens his jaw wide and exhales a stream of fire.

The dragon trapped inside me roars in rage at the senseless violence. There are six of us and only two of them. We have them surrounded. There’s no need to burn them; the two outsiders cannot go anywhere.

But the others follow Luddux’s lead. The sky fills with flame and smoke.

“Oh no,” Olivia puts a hand over her mouth as the black dragon’s wing catches on fire. The crimson dragon dives in front of his companion, but it’s too late to protect him. The injury is too great, and the black dragon starts to fall, tumbling, wheeling and gathering speed as he hurtles toward the ground.

The red dragon makes a valiant effort to save his friend, diving in pursuit, but there’s not enough time. I watch, my heart in my mouth as the two dragons streak head-first toward the ground.

Then there’s a thunderous noise, and the dragons crash into the cold still waters of Lake Ang.

Zunix is already running toward them. “Get the boat,” he screams. “They will transform back to men when they lose consciousness. We can’t let them drown.”

I can only hope it isn’t too late.