Every time I looked at Reaver, it was a shock. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to seeing such a magnificent, frightful, and beautiful being.
Twenty-three draken had awakened. The youngest, three in total, remained at Spessa’s End to stand guard there, as decided by the draken. Out of the twenty that traveled with the armies, none were as large as Reaver. Instead, they were about the size of Setti, their scales not nearly as thick as Reaver’s and more susceptible to the sharp edge of an arrow. But they would still make quick work of any army.
The draken watched us, and I wondered what he was thinking and feeling. Whenever I attempted to get a read on him or any of the others while around them, I felt nothing. It wasn’t like the cold hollowness of an Ascended. Either Reaver and the other draken were shielding their emotions from me, or I simply couldn’t read them.
“Would you like some?” I offered to Reaver, lifting the plate. I hadn’t seen him eat, which drummed up a wee bit of concern over exactly what he was eating when he took flight, disappearing from view.
I really hoped it wasn’t people…or cute animals.
But I had no way of knowing. Only Aurelia, one of only two female draken who had awakened, had been in her mortal form long enough for me to learn the names of about half of the two-dozen draken who had left Iliseeum. She’d said that my will was theirs before we left Atlantia and parted ways.
The whole, my-will-was-theirs thing hadn’t exactly been helpful, but I’d learned that it was somewhat like the Primal notam. Reaver seemed to inherently know what I wanted. Like when we left to take Massene, and he’d already hunkered down to sleep for the night. I guessed it was more like the Primal essence in terms of how it responded to what I willed.
Reaver shook his spiked head at my offer of bacon.
“How did he even get in here without bringing the entire building down?” The skin between Kieran’s brows creased.
“Carefully,” I said as the draken’s attention drifted to the wolven. The vertical pupils constricted as his blue eyes narrowed once more. I suspected that the draken would take another swipe at Kieran the next chance he got.
“Shouldn’t Vonetta and the others be returning today?” I asked, directing Kieran’s attention from the draken.
“Any minute now.” Picking up his glass, he added dryly, “As you already know.”
I did, but he was no longer engaged in an epic stare-down with Reaver, which would surely escalate. However, anxiety suddenly took flight like a large silver hawk, and it had nothing to do with the probability of Kieran and Reaver maiming or murdering each other.
It had everything to do with the plans regarding Oak Ambler and Solis. Things I would need to convince the Atlantian generals to support, even though I hadn’t handled the most intricate part of those plans myself.
“I have this feeling,” Kieran began, “that you’re still annoyed I advised you against going with Vonetta.”
I frowned. “Sometimes, I do wonder if you can read minds.”
His full mouth twisted into a smirk as he tapped one finger off his temple. “I just have a knack for knowing things.”
“Uh-huh.” So did his father, Jasper, but Kieran also frequently seemed to know where my thoughts went. Which, admittedly, was as annoying to me as me reading his emotions was to him. “I wasn’t actively annoyed by you advising me against going into Oak Ambler, but I am now.”
“Great,” he muttered.
I sent him a glare. “Why is it when a Prince or a King decides to place themselves in danger or chooses to lead armies into war, it’s not an issue? But when a Queen wishes to do the same, it suddenly becomes a thing they must be advised against? Sounds a bit…sexist.”
Kieran placed his glass down. “It’s not a thing. I tried to stop Cas from doing idiotic, incredibly dangerous acts so many times, it was practically a full-time responsibility.”
A sharp slice of pain cut through my chest. I focused on the unopened bottles of wine the Atlantian Lord who had captained the ship we’d taken to Oak Ambler had shipped in. Perry had ferried in many much-needed supplies. Most importantly, the type of wine Kieran had said Valyn favored.
What better way to get someone to agree to what you wanted than to get them liquored up?
“Namely you,” Kieran continued, intruding on my thoughts. “I tried to stop him from taking you.”
“What?” My head jerked toward him.
He nodded. “When he concocted the plan to masquerade as a guard and take you hostage, I told him, more than once, that it was absolutely insane. That it carried far too many risks.”
“Did one of those risks have to do with the fact that it was wrong to kidnap an innocent person and upend her entire life?” I questioned.