Col dropped toward the attackers. Battle strategy said he had to take one of them out of the fight immediately. He couldn’t protect Naomi against two dragons. Wasn’t foolish enough to think he could.

His only choice was knock Sefa from the sky and give himself enough time to kill Jaha. He could hunt the female later.

His mate had gone stiff in his right claw, but she wasn’t fighting. At least surrounded on most sides by his body she was protected, should the murderer throw fire in his direction. The flame would blind him temporarily, but not injure him like it would Naomi.

The traitors didn’t have time to try and burn his mate. Col had risen above their line of sight. They’d get no warning.

Neither of the enemy dragons would expect him to drop on them. It was dangerous to tuck the wings and fall like he was. Getting wings back open after a dead drop was one of the hardest maneuvers ever mastered by dragon warriors.

He bent his head just before impact, and let his left shoulder collide with the female’s back. Bones crunched beneath her hide. Col hoped at least one of her wing joints had been crushed.

The scream she released made him roar an angry response.

She’d been part of the murder of his family. Of his whole tribe.

Her cry reminded him of the pain he’d heard in his sister Kela’s voice, as the great stone boulders the traitors had thrown from the sky had crushed her legs. She’d shifted, but her back had been broken. And even her dragon was able to do nothing more than drag itself along on the ground, trying to find cover. Then another rock had crushed the side of Kela’s head. She’d dropped dead no more than thirty paces from him.

Jaha and the others had been prepared. They’d all thrown the boulders at once. All with deadly aim. Most of his family had died instantly. They’d been out in the open, helping their tribe prepare for the exodus.

No one had been ready for an attack.

Not even him.

The falling ash and volcanic rocks were like meteors and made it dangerous for their wings. All patrols had been grounded. Everyone’s energy and focus had been on organizing and joining the other tribes on the trek up the mountain to the waiting portal. All disagreements and territory wars had been set aside. Survival had united the valley.

Or so they’d thought.

Col’s father had put him in charge of the elders at the back of the group. His great grandmother had shifted beside him before he’d seen the burning rocks barreling down to crush them both. He should’ve been watching better. He should’ve done something. He shouldn’t have let his guard down.

The collision with Sefa’s body slowed his descent. He fought the wind and sheer and managed to open his wings.

Jaha’s sister fell like a rock to the snowy ground below.

His victory was short-lived. Flames spread across Col’s back like a warm summer breeze. He twisted in the air, letting his spikes and wings take the brunt of the heat.

Naomi was safe. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest. Her small hands clung to his claws like talons themselves.

He trumpeted a challenge to Jaha, and whirled to face him, spraying fire with the cry. The flames brightly burned, blinding the enemy male for the moment Col needed. He pumped his wings and reached out with his back feet.

His claws found a hold on the softer scales of Jaha’s underbelly. He contracted them and ripped away huge chunks of the younger dragon’s hide.

The black dragon warrior cried out in agony but didn’t give up. His fate was to kill or be killed.

Col would allow no other outcome.

More memories flooded back as his rage boiled in his veins. Jaha and his father’s group of exiled dragons had broken the treaty of Exodus Day. They’d murdered innocents. They’d not engaged in a battle like honorable warriors, instead they’d carried out a massacre against all. Mothers. Children. The elders. All had perished within a matter of a few seconds.

Col was the only son of the royal house of Li’Vhram left alive.

He would avenge his tribe.

Jaha would die.

So would Sefa, if she did not already breathe her last on the ground below them.

He remembered so distinctly the sound of breaking bones and tearing flesh. The way the first boulder had crushed his great grandmother’s wings. She’d covered him with her large body, pinning him down in his two-legged form for several moments. By the time he shifted and crawled from beneath her heavy white-scaled body, the attack had been over.

All members of his tribe were dead or dying.

Col had leapt upon the closest attacker in a rage—a male he recognized as having been exiled from the tribe over a year ago. The male—Jaha’s father—had been looting the dying and dead’s belongings. Honorless traitor.

Jaha’s father had been the first male he’d torn limb from limb. With the rival’s blood fresh in his mouth, he’d continued to tear through the others who didn’t flee fast enough.

The black dragon and his sister were the only ones that’d fled toward the portal. The other traitors had flown into the ash and smoke and fire-filled sky to the south of the valley. Reylea would burn them for him.

He’d followed Jaha and Sefa. Col refused to allow them to escape to a new world, where their crimes would go unpunished. Now the time had come for the battle between them to be finished. It would’ve been over already, had he not come across Naomi, but now that he had her, Col couldn’t imagine a life without her.

Jaha threw flame and twisted in the sky, ducking beneath him. The young warrior sought the same vulnerability—his belly.

Col banked hard and the dragon’s claws merely glanced off the hard spikes along his back. The young black dragon roared in frustration.

He used the moment to twist in the air and bite at Jaha’s leg. Bones crunched in his jaws. Blood flowed through his teeth. The traitor would die a long, slow, and torturous death.

Jaha screamed and yanked his mangled leg free of Col’s mouth.

They banked and turned and circled each other for a few seconds before Jaha charged in again.

Stupid youngling.

Col leaned to the right, avoiding the charge and swung his tail hard, ripping a long tear through one of Jaha’s wings. It didn’t cripple him completely, but he now had to work twice as hard to stay in the air.

More bellows of pain. More sprays of fire.

Each time, Col turned and blocked the flame with his back and wings. He listened for Naomi’s heart. It was steady. Her breathing slow and relaxed. She’d passed out.

Probably for the best.

At least holding her, he was assured that nothing attacked her on the ground while he fought.

Kill. Finish him. His dragon trumpeted the challenge call.

Jaha swung around and tried again for his belly with back claws, but at the last moment twisted in the air. The youngling bit down on Col’s tail and pulled hard.

The momentum caught Col off guard. He spread his wings wide and pumped furiously to keep from dropping into a freefall.

The young dragon yanked again and then released with a spray of fire that bathed Col’s entire belly and chest in flame.

No!

There was no time to maneuver. No way to block the fire.

Naomi couldn’t have survived. Her skin wasn’t like his.

Without dragon magick the super-heated air alone would’ve killed her with one breath. His heart pounded. He’d lost his shuarra.

He’d failed to protect her from a pathetic cowardly youngling who’d again targeted an innocent.

His woman. His mate.

He dove at the dragon with an enraged roar. Col bathed the young warrior with flame and found his target within seconds. His jaws clamped down on Jaha’s neck. His back claws raked down the black one’s stomach, ripping his softer belly to shreds.

Blood coated his claws. The smell only drove Col’s dragon harder.

Jaha screamed, then choked and coughed.

They tumbled through the sky, a mass of wings and claws and blood. He bit down harder, relishing the sound of bones crunching and Jaha’s life ebbing away with one last wheezing gasp.

Col released the dead dragon and leapt upward from the body, pushing himself into the sky. The thud of the other dragon’s form reverberated through the open clearing. His wings pumped harder and then slowed, easing himself down to land beside the broken and bloody carcass of his enemy.

His frame shook and shivered as he drew in huge lungsful of air. He still had his right claw clutched tightly to his chest.

Naomi’s body.

His dragon couldn’t concentrate. All it saw was blood. All it smelled was death and ash. It wanted to rip into Jaha’s body and tear it to shreds.

Col needed to see his mate. Needed to know for sure if he’d lost her. He pushed and clawed at the dragon’s consciousness.

Shuarra. Our shuarra! he screamed inside his mind. Finally, the dragon relented, giving up control.

He tucked his wings against his large scaled body and backed away from the gore of Jaha’s carcass. He unfolded his claw and let Naomi slide gently out onto the snow. Her beautiful curls hid part of her face. Her skin looked undamaged. Actually, none of her looked damaged. He took a deep breath, slowing his own racing pounding heartbeat so that he could listen for hers.

Col shuddered out a breath and fell to the ground beside her in his two-legged form.

She was alive. Her heart still beat. She breathed.

How had his claw shielded her?

He’d felt the heat. It’d covered him. Covered her. How was her hair not singed? Her skin not blistered and red? She was human and vulnerable, not Reylean. Not dragon. She winced when she touched anything hot. But there she was.

Undamaged. Alive. A beautiful sight cradled by pure white snow. His shuarra lived.

A bugle cry sounded from across the clearing.

Col snarled, shifting in an instant and stepping over Naomi to shield her from Sefa.

However, the female dragon didn’t turn. She rose slowly into the air and limped away, barely able to fly. Her wing wasn’t broken, but it’d been wrenched out of place.

He roared into the air. His dragon wanted more blood. He wanted more blood. But Sefa would wait. He’d let her go off to lick her wounds then he would hunt her down and end her too.

Justice would be served for his house. For his tribe.

Naomi was his only focus until the scent of another Reylean shifter wafted closer on the cold breeze. Lions were approaching. He swung his head into the wind and breathed deeply. It was strong and close.

They were beyond stupid to come at him when his mate was vulnerable. He’d just dismembered another dragon. The bloody carcass lay not ten feet from him. Did they not value their lives? Did they not think he would end them with one breath of his fire?

Col trumpeted another call, warning them off. Focusing on the trees, he waited and watched. He was exhausted from the fight.

His muscles trembled and shook from exertion, but he wasn’t too tired to lay waste to a lion. Or several.

He breathed in deeply. In and out. In and out. Then continued to wait.