The Dragon Who Loved Me (Dragon Kin #5)(52)

She grabbed the spear her father gave her and held it in her hand. The tip appeared and it grew to be about three feet, but that was it, waiting until she cal ed on more.

She heard the wyvern slither into the cavern, but she could tel it instantly stopped before going farther in.

Careful y, she peeked around the boulder. The wyvern had reared up, nearly reaching the ceiling even though stil part of its body stretched outside the cavern. Its eyes searched the area, scales shimmering in the darkness, thankful y easy enough for Rhona to see. If she were truly human, she’d have been eaten by now after getting lost in the black.

Its gaze final y locked on the boulder Rhona stood behind, the sides of its mouth curling up at the corners.

Rhona had only a moment to think, Shit, and then she was diving back behind the boulder, crouching as low as possible. The venom hit the rock and she heard the sizzle, smel ed that burning scent of putrid death. Gods, she’d have to make this fast.

She spun around to the other side of the boulder, stepped out, and grabbed one of the throwing axes hanging from her belt. She lifted and threw it. The trajectory was spot-on, flipping end over end across the cavern until it hit the wyvern in the chest—and bounced off, completely ineffectual at this distance.

The wyvern hissed in annoyance and slithered after her. Rhona planted her feet and waited, watching the thing coming right for her.

But behind the wyvern, back by the entrance, Vigholf ran from his spot against the wal , his battle-ax arcing through the air.

Rhona prepared her body, waiting. The ax slammed into the wyvern’s tail, hacking the end off. The high-pitched roar the wyvern unleashed shook the cavern wal s, and it pul ed up to look, ready to strike Vigholf. That’s when Rhona moved forward, dashing to within feet of the thing. She lifted her spear and it grew from three feet to five feet to six feet, on and on until it was long enough to reach the wyvern’s neck. She rammed the spear forward and buried it between scales and into vulnerable flesh, not only ripping into an artery but blocking the thing’s ability to unleash any more venom. Just as her mum had taught her, years and years ago.

The wyvern tried to turn, its body thrashing wildly, blood spewing from its tail and its throat. Rhona held on, refusing to release the desperate animal even though her human body was weakening faster than she’d like.

“Pul him down!” Vigholf yel ed as he charged forward.

It wasn’t easy, but she did as he ordered, stepping back and yanking the beast down with her. When it was stil about ten feet from the ground, Vigholf climbed up on its back and up to where its head met its neck. He lifted his warhammer with both hands—the weapon her father made easily tripling in size—and swung. The heavy steel struck the side of the wyvern’s head, something snapping inside. But stil it fought. Stil it tried to kil or get away or both. So Rhona gripped her spear tighter and twisted it, shoving the tip deeper in. And Vigholf raised his hammer and brought it down again and again directly onto the wyvern’s head, smashing it until the thing final y slumped forward, the only thing keeping it up being Rhona’s spear.

Vigholf stood there a moment, his hammer pressed to the back of the thing’s neck, and his body leaning on it.

“This is not comfortable, Lightning.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He went down the beast’s neck until he could jump off without breaking something important. And as he walked toward Rhona, he heard it coming up from behind him. Hissing.

“Rhona?”

She leaned over, her hands stil clutching her spear.

“I think there’s more,” he told her.

She blinked, then quickly examined the one stil hanging from her weapon. “Shit and piss . . . I was right.”

“Right about what?”

“This is the baby.” She retracted her weapon and took off running. “You better come on!” Vigholf bolted after her, ignoring the angry sounds coming from behind him. Rhona raced through caverns and passageways, the only thing leading them both the scent of fresh air. When they final y saw the way out, they hurtled toward the exit together, diving through it and out into the much safer world of rain and painful lightning.

“Vigholf!” she ordered. “Close it!”

Vigholf turned, his eyes briefly widening at the size of the head he could see slithering forward, mouth gaping open to unleash more of that venom. Having no desire to experience that, he unleashed his lightning on the rocky area above. Boulders crashed down, blocking the cavern, but it didn’t stop the scream of rage that fol owed.

Panting, the pair looked at each other and then over to a nearby tree.

“You two,” Vigholf accused the horses. “Leaving us to die. You couldn’t give us a little warning? ” The female at least had the good graces to look away, but the male sneered at him. Again!

And Vigholf was marching over there, his fists raised to teach the rude bastard some manners, when Rhona caught his arm, pul ed him back.

“Can we fight about this later? It’s not like those boulders are going to stop her for long, and I’d rather not be here when she final y digs her way out.”

“Yeah. Al right.” But he pointed a warning finger at the stal ion. “But this isn’t over!” Rhona rol ed her eyes before she mounted the mare. “I swear, the both of you—pathetic.” The stal ion al owed Vigholf to mount him, but Vigholf knew he wasn’t happy about it.