ZOHR

A short time later, my mate stands at my side, stifling a yawn behind her hand as we watch explosions of pink, white, and blue decorate the early-morning skies. The noise they make is deafening, seemingly rattling the very air around us. She was wise to suggest this; no dragon anywhere close to here will be able to ignore such sounds.

“This should be enough to wake up the neighborhood,” she tells me. “Fingers crossed we only get the visitors we want and not the ones we don’t.”

Indeed, I feel the stirring of thoughts on the far edge of my mind. A second presence joins the first. Another male. Both are attempting to reach out to me—and simultaneously warn me away—and I ignore them. They will have to fly to us to see who we are.

A few minutes pass, and Emma chews her thumbnail worriedly. “Think they are coming? Should I set off another round?”

I sniff, and the smell of the male drakoni grows stronger. It is accompanied by that of a human—a mated female with a paired scent, like mine is paired with Emma’s. I smell someone coming, I tell my mate. They will be here soon.

To my surprise, she fluffs her hair and straightens her clothing. “Do I look okay? I don’t look like a hobo, do I?”

You look fine. Why?

“Typical man,” she mutters, and then pats my foreleg. “Because my friend is coming and I don’t want her to think I’m a disheveled mess. I want to look like I’ve got my shit together.”

What shit is together? I nose her, curious. I do not understand.

She finger-combs her hair back into place now that I’ve nosed it. “Just an expression. Should you change to human form?”

No, I tell her firmly. I can defend you better like this.

“Hopefully that won’t be necessary, but you might have a point. Maybe we should save the nakey-nakey balls-out thing for, like, the second date.”

Now she is just muttering more gibberish. Before I can comment on such things, the air grows thick with scents—and sendings—and I instinctively put a protective wing over my mate, shielding her. They come. Stay at my side.

She sucks in a breath and points. “I see them.”

Against the horizon, there is a dot of gold growing steadily larger. The dragon wings closer to us, and I can see a rider on his back, covered in many of the strange skins that my Emma loves to wear on her body. This one does not just wear them on her torso, though, but all over her form, even on her head. Very strange. I study the drakoni male as he closes in, wondering if I will recognize him. If memory will return and I will see the face of a familiar warrior. But the dragon that issues a trumpeted warning is a stranger. He has a proud horned brill and a scar across his snout, evidence of past battles won. On his body, across his chest, I see what look like ropes that crisscross his scales, and when he lands a short distance away, I realize he has tied his female to his back somehow.

Very strange.

I lower my head and sound a warning growl at his challenge. I can feel his mind sweep at mine, trying to lock on to my thoughts, but I will not allow contact. His eyes narrow, whirling from a cautious mix of gold and black to near-black. He sees me as a threat. His scent changes to one of anger.

I bare my teeth, pushing ahead a bit more so I can shield Emma from his sights. I do not care how angry he gets; he is not even looking at her unless she wishes it.

My mate cups a hand to her mouth and bellows out. “Sasha, is that you?”

Stay back, I warn Emma when she tries to push forward.

“Babe, it’s cool. That’s Dakh, isn’t it? And Sasha?”

I do not know. I am not speaking to them.

“Who’s there?” calls a feminine voice. I can feel my mate’s surprise at the sound of the woman’s voice—it’s not Sasha. The female on the back of the dragon pulls off the skin on her head—the hat, Emma’s thoughts tell me—and shakes free bright red hair.

Emma pushes against the wing I have in front of her. “Babe, let me out. Seriously.”

No.

She sighs. “Come on, chacho. Ease off already.” She pushes at my wing again, her thoughts growing irritated, and I reluctantly let her move forward. She raises a hand in the air even as I lower my head, ready to push her back under my wing at a moment’s notice. “Hi,” she calls out. “Are you Sasha’s friend? I’m Emma. I’m looking for her.”

The red-haired female responds and gives her name as Claudia. She strokes her hand on her dragon’s neck and studies my Emma, then asks her why I will not talk to them. Am I still crazed, she wonders. If so, why am I not attacking Emma?

“Oh, he’s mine,” Emma says cheerfully, unbothered by such questions. “This is Zohr. Sasha knows about him. And he’s not talking because I told him not to. We needed to make sure who we were talking to first.”

The one called Claudia gives my mate a perplexed look and asks if it’s safe now. My Emma studies her for a moment. “Can we trust you? Against Azar?”

The other female is surprised. She says yes, but my Emma is a bit more reluctant. She glances over at me. Do we trust?

I nudge her with my nose. You are the one that knows these people. You tell me.

I don’t know her, Emma admits. I know Sasha. I think Claudia was one of the ones that helped in my rescue, though. I just…well, I don’t remember all that well because I told Sasha to hit me in the head and make things look good. I think Claudia’s dragon is the one that ate my brother, though. There’s a mixture of wry amusement and sadness in her thoughts. Then again, Boyd was going to try and kill us if we left.

If you wish for me to fight him, I will. I size up the other male. It will be a tough challenge with my inability to fly very far, but I will give my life to defend my female.

No way, babe. She sighs and chews on her nail, clearly torn. This is just me being suspicious of everyone. I just wish it was Sasha that was here. I guess we’ll have to trust someone in the end though, right?

I say nothing, because I know how she feels. I trust no one and nothing but my Emma. We are left with few choices, and as you say, we cannot do this alone. You decide.

She squirms in her seat, thinking. After a moment, she sighs heavily. Oh hell, go ahead and say hello to him. But if I lose you, I swear I’m going to burn this motherfucker to the ground.

I rumble with amusement. A fair deal.

With my Emma’s worried gaze upon me, I send a mental touch out to the other male, a gesture of acknowledgment.

Your little mate is fierce, comes the immediate reply. His thoughts are clear and full of amusement.

She is, I agree, full of pride at how perfect my Emma is. She seeks to protect me.

She does realize she is the size of a mere bite of food? the other male rumbles. No matter. Fierceness is a good thing. I am Kael. We mean you or your female no harm.

I am Zohr, I tell him. It is surprisingly comfortable to touch my mind to another male’s in companionship. It feels as if it has been a very, very long time since I spoke with another of my kind.

Seven human years, Kael agrees. Other than Dakh, you are the only one I know of that has retained thought enough to remember who you are. His thoughts grow a bit frustrated. I wish I remembered more, but most of my memories were destroyed with the Rift.

Mine, as well. I think it is one reason why we are so vulnerable to Azar.

The Salorian? His mind fills with acrid hate. He raises his head again? What does he plan?

Nothing good. My mate and I have much to share.

Come with us, Kael offers. Our aerie is safe. We will call Dakh and his female, and all of us will talk of a solution.

I look down at my mate’s worried, tense face. I know what solution we need—destroying the Salorian. But I am not sure we can do it alone. We need the others.

We will come.