Aspen (The Dragon Kings #2)(19)

He jerked his head back to Sid. They were talking in their heads, and that pissed her off. She wanted to be part of their conversation. Finally, she decided she was done waiting for permission. Damien’s wing was riddled with holes and tears. She tentatively brushed her fingers along a rip, and he shivered. He shook his wing, and her finger got stuck in one of the holes. He growled and brought his face back toward hers.

What do you think you are doing?

“I wanted to see what it felt like.”

She untangled her fingers from his wing and moved around behind him. He followed her with his eyes. She placed her hand on the flat of his tail. The skin there was smooth, like the rest of his body.

She trailed her fingers along his scales, and although he followed her with those black eyes of his, he didn’t complain. As she came around his front, she accidentally ran her fingers through the pus on his underbelly. She sniffed at it and wiped it on her jeans. She supposed she should be grossed out, but she’d seen loads worse.

She moved back around to his right side. She wanted to study his sealing. Surrounding his right ankle was a mark like hers, but it was a deeper shade of red than his body. She couldn’t read most of the words, but the name stood out. Hestia.

Her heart ached for this poor dragon. Obsidian always seemed so powerful and indestructible. She never realized they could be hurt. She sat on the floor in front of Damien and motioned him toward herself with her hands. Damien lay down on the floor and rested his head in her lap.

You have a very gentle touch, he said.

“Thank you. How did you become so mangled?”

It’s a long story.

“I don’t think Sid and I are going anywhere anytime soon. I’d like to hear your story.”

No one has ever asked me that before. I suppose it begins when I was a young dragon. I was charming and irresistible to females. Of course most of us are, being from fire. When other tribes send ambassadors to us, they never send females, and when we visit them, they hide their unsealed daughters.

A group of royal dragons came to visit us. This was an unusually large group. Whole families. One family brought along their daughter. She was about fifty years younger than me. The only females I’d ever been around were fire.

To me, she was a challenge. Something different. But she was also beautiful in a way that my sisters and cousins were not. Her name was Athena. I stalked the group and waited for her to be alone, for surely she wanted to explore our beautiful islands. My waiting paid off, and late into the night she flew off on her own.

I followed and convinced her to visit another island with me. We did not return to the Big Island for weeks. She captivated me and my heart. I sealed myself to her. Do you understand what that means for us?

“Yes, I do. But she didn’t seal herself to you.”

How do you know that?

“The marking on your ankle does not say Athena. It says Hestia.”

Obsidian’s educated you well. You are correct. She did not seal herself to me. I could charm and sweet talk her, and while she enjoyed my company, she did not fall in love with me. When we returned to the Big Island, her father was livid.

We don’t typically mate with those not of our tribe. The royals are particularly sensitive about it. He hid her in the midst of their group and would not let me see her. In my arrogance, I tried to force my way into the middle. I thought if I could get to her, she would learn to love me and stay with me forever. I needed to be with her.

Her father fought me, which must’ve been horrid for him. It is not in our nature to fight one another, but he felt he was protecting his child. He was larger than me and a better fighter. I did not give up until he removed my tail in desperation. The group left after that. I wanted to die. I tried to, but Hestia, my friend and eventual companion, would not let me.

Hestia healed my stump and taught me to fly again. At first, my balance was off, and I would end up flat in the dirt. She stayed with me for years while my bitterness waned. She loved me, and I learned to let go of my love for Athena. Hestia and I were bonded and soon found that we were to be parents.

While we waited for the egg to hatch, Hestia grew ill. She was so weak that she could not fly. Our son was born, and she could barely open her eyes to gaze upon him. My family and I took her to the woodlands to see if they could heal her.

They tried. I know they did, but in the end it wasn’t enough. After several months, she died. By then my family had all returned to the islands, and only my son and I were among the woodlands to mourn her. My fury at her death was horrid. I took out my anger on the woodlands. I fought six of them at once. I believe I killed one of them. My jaw was broken in the process.

I took my son and flew home. The woodlands must have sent a messenger to the leaders of my tribe because when I arrived, they were waiting. They claimed that I was not allowed to raise my son, that I would be an unfit parent.

I held him next to my stomach and protected him with my wings. The scars on my underbelly are from his claws when the tore him from me. They banned me from the islands, and I have not seen my son nor my beautiful home in five hundred years.

His story made his physical wounds seem trivial. Aspen longed to comfort him, to make him better.

“Obsidian?” Aspen asked.

Yes.

“If you live through this and are made king, will it be within your power to bring Damien’s son to him?”

Of course.

“And will you?”