“Eyes forward, sorceress!”
When they had to vault over a burned-out section of the ledge and she nearly fell short, he snapped, “Come to me.”
Without a word, she turned to hop into his arms, locking her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. When he squeezed her against him, she said, “I’m getting used to jumping you.”
He did a double take as he set off once more. “Are you, then?”
“Easy, tiger. I meant that we keep having to run for our lives.”
“Just watch our back.” As he lunged across another gulley, he said, “I couldn’t have warned you about my father.”
“What?”
“I had no idea of his plans until after he and his men had left. I dove for the abbey, but by the time I got there, he’d already killed your parents.”
The truth of that night. “How’d he find out?”
“My tutor saw me sneaking out and followed me.” Thronos slowed to meet her eyes. “I never betrayed you, Melanthe. I’d been tempted to tell my parents about you—I knew the Hall would move soon—but I would’ve talked to you about it first.”
To his clear surprise, she said, “I believe you.” Then her gaze drifted past him. “They’re cresting! We have to hide.” Thronos’s wings would perfectly match this blackened rock face and the silver ore that drizzled from the stone. “Good thing you blend.”
“I do not blend.”
“Face it, demon, you blend like a native of hell. Luckily for us, the fire-breathing dragon breeds don’t scent so well.”
“How would you know?”
“I’ve hung out with a pack of them in Rothkalina. My sister can talk to them. They’re really nice once you get to know them, only attacking trespassers and such. . . .” She trailed off when Thronos froze in place, craning his head up. She followed his gaze.
At least a dozen dragons swarmed the side of the mountain like bats coating a cave ceiling.
TWENTY
We are trespassers.” Thronos crouched down, pressing her back against the mountain. He spread his wings, enclosing them completely, and—damn her—blending.
When Melanthe shook against him, he muttered, “They haven’t seen us. We’re hidden here. Just think of something else.”
For long moments, the sounds of their heartbeats were loud drums in the insulated hush beneath his wings.
“You used to enclose us like this when we were young,” she finally said in a low voice. “I always felt I should whisper, as if we were under a sheet, staying up too late.”
“We told each other secrets.”
“So you do recall our months together?” she asked, looking pleased by this.
Some minutes less than others. He shrugged.
“How long do you think we’ll have to wait here?”
“We can stay for as long as we need to.” He’d no sooner said the words than he sensed a section of path disintegrating to his left. The dragons above roared in reaction. Then another section to his right collapsed, leaving him and Melanthe on a precarious island of rock.
“More heights.” She bit her bottom lip until he thought she would split it.
He wanted to talk to her, distracting her mind from their situation. What to say?
She took care of the problem. “If we live through this, I’m going back for the medallion.”
“The hell you are.” Besides, she wouldn’t find it if she returned.