“You just leave that to me.” Nancy got a crafty look on her face. “We might have to get a little help, but we’ll manage. And the very first one to go after is Kaitlyn Fellows. That little scarred bitch won’t know what hit her!”
At this, my Drake roared inside me. I felt my hands clenching into fists and my breathing growing harsh. How dare they call Kaitlyn names and threaten her? How…fucking…dare they?
Before I could stop myself, I rushed out of the shadows and confronted Nancy directly, looming over her as I glared down into her shocked face.
“You will leave Kaitlyn Fellows alone,” I growled at her, my voice deep with my Drake’s anger. I could feel my eyes getting hot and knew they must be glowing gold with his light.
The witch’s own eyes widened and she took a sudden, involuntary step back, clearly startled by my sudden appearance.
“You…what…?” she sputtered, clearly unable to finish the question.
“I heard what you were saying—the three of you,” I growled. “And I am here to tell you that if you lay a single finger on Kaitlyn, you will be very, very sorry.”
Her black eyes narrowed.
“You really do have a thing for that little freak, don’t you?” she demanded. “You know, I did a little asking around after this morning and I found out what you said was true—that Drakes really don’t allow cross-species dating. And I further know that you hate females who are scarred or disfigured—so how you can have feelings for that disgusting little—”
“Be careful what you call her!” I snarled menacingly. “She’s worth ten of you, vrota!” Which was a name in the language of my people for a devious or twisted person—one who only wanted to cause harm to others. If there was a better example of a vrota than Nancy Rattcliff, I didn’t know what it was.
Her face darkened and she glared at me.
“So what are you going to do if I decide to mess with your little scarred human, anyway?” she demanded. “Don’t you High Drakes—the really upper class ones—have some kind of code against hurting females? So it’s not like you’re going to actually do me physical harm.” She looked thoughtful. “Although, I guess you could run tell the Headmistress on me. But if you do that, it might get back to your daddy the King Drake that you have a thing for a human—a scarred, deformed human!” she spat and then tilted her head to one side and looked at me with wide eyes. “Why, I wonder what he’ll think about that?”
I felt like gnashing my teeth with rage. She had me there and I knew it. It wasn’t like I could offer her actual physical harm, the way I could if another male was threatening my little human. The Drake code of honor, which I had been raised by, stated that a male must never harm a female. It was considered shameful and low, which was one reason I had been so shocked and angry when Sanchez had hit Kaitlyn in the face with a football and then laughed about it.
I wouldn’t have been so surprised if one of his hangers-on—the common green Drakes who followed him had done such a thing. They had no honor. But to have a nobleman of our kind act so to a female was both repugnant and shocking.
Also, it was true that I didn’t want the news of my choice of Kaitlyn as my future bonded mate to be revealed to my father and mother just yet. If he found out what was going on, my father would doubtless call me back to the Sky Lands and betroth me to what he and my mother considered a “suitable” female at once.
But while I was trying to think how to answer Nancy’s threat, I felt a surge inside me and my Drake suddenly came forward, pushing me aside as he assumed control of my body.
“It will not only be Ari you must deal with if you harm the little human,” he growled in a low, guttural voice much deeper than my own. I could feel my eyes glowing fiercely as they filled with his golden fire. “It is me you must deal with if you hurt her,” he went on. “She is MINE and I will not allow anyone—male or female—to raise a hand against her! Do you understand?”
For the first time since I had come charging out of the shadows, Nancy looked truly frightened. Her eyes widened and her lips trembled as she took a stumbling step back from me and my Drake.
“Y-yes,” she whispered at last. “I understand.”
I knew why she was in fear. My Drake’s message was unequivocal—he would not be bound by any code of conduct or oath of honor as I was. If something happened to Kaitlyn and Nancy was the cause of it, my Drake would make her pay—possibly with her life.