To Love a Dragon - Tiffany Roberts Page 0,55

scales, bulging with unbridled strength. His mighty heart thumped. His chest swelled with rage as ancient as these woods, with love as boundless as the heavens.

Leyloni.

Arysteon opened his eyes and looked down upon the little humans. They all stared at him with shock save Leyloni—her surprise was mingled with her renewed hope. Smoke curled in the air around him, which bore that crisp lightning scent.

In the woods behind Arysteon, Serek cried, likely startled by the noise.

Arysteon huffed through his nostrils, making the thin smoke swirl wildly. His gaze fell upon his nearest foe—Tekal. She stared up at him, trembling, and the bones of her necklace rattled.

Several days ago, Arysteon had empathized with two scared, exhausted humans, and had gladly helped them. He had no empathy for these humans—and he had no mercy to spare for anyone or anything that dared threaten his mate.

He leapt forward, releasing another roar, and brought his front claws down upon Tekal. She was dead before she could so much as utter a sound, her warm blood spattering Arysteon’s scales. Her companions scrambled into sudden motion.

They thrust their spears at him, and one fired an arrow, their attacks imbued with a desperation born of terror. Their weapons glanced off Arysteon’s natural armor—he barely felt their impacts.

He snapped his head down and clamped his jaws over the female with the deer skull who had been standing over Leyloni, catching her from the midsection up. Blood ran over his tongue, bitter with a tang of iron. He growled with intensified fury.

If his mate required a beast to destroy her enemies and keep her safe, Arysteon would be that beast. He would be whatever she needed—anything, everything.

Arysteon lifted his head and swung it to the side to fling the bone-clad female into the woods. Her body crashed through the foliage, already forgotten. He lashed out at his remaining enemies, tearing more flesh, breaking more bones, shedding more blood. Soon, that blood was the dominant scent on the air.

Only two of the eight enemies remained standing, and they fell back from Arysteon, back from their fallen companions. That was two too many. He positioned himself over Leyloni, making his body her shield, her sanctuary, and rent the sky with another roar.

The survivors fled into the brush.

Instinct drove Arysteon to follow, but it also halted him before he could give chase. The bone-clad females were a threat to his Leyloni, to Serek, so long as they drew breath. They could not be spared. Yet there was something more important to attend to in that moment.

Arysteon eased himself backward and bent his neck to look down at his mate. Arms trembling, she was struggling to push herself up from her prone position. He gently hooked the claws of one hand beneath her torso and supported her.

Her hair was damp and tangled, spotted with bits of grass and fallen leaves. Her skin was paler than usual but for the frantic red splotches on her cheeks, and she was smeared with dirt and mud from head to toe. Her arms were covered in shallow scratches, and crimson gleamed at her temple—blood from a fresh wound.

His chest tightened, squeezing his heart and making it difficult for him to draw breath.

He should not have let her come here alone. He should have remained at her side, protecting her, as was his duty.

Leaning on his fingers, Leyloni got her feet beneath her and stood up, albeit with tenuous balance. “Arysteon,” she rasped. “What…”

“Hush,” he rumbled, leaning his head down to carefully nuzzle her shoulder. “You are safe.”

“Serek. Where’s Serek?”

Though they’d eased somewhat, the baby’s cries continued sounding from the woods behind Arysteon.

“He is also safe, my heartsong.”

Our enemies are fleeing. Escaping.

Arysteon’s spark thrummed. He clenched his jaw and held it in, inadvertently pressing the blood taste to the roof of his mouth. He nearly shuddered. There was yet more blood to be spilled.

“Come,” he said, allowing Leyloni to hold his claw as he slowly turned and moved toward Serek.

She leaned on him heavily but kept herself upright. When she reached the slope leading up from the river—an insignificant slope from his current perspective—he curled his fingers and used them to scoop up his little mate. She braced herself with a steadying hand on his thumb but did not panic or cry out.

Serek’s cries were far clearer from this close.

Arysteon set Leyloni down at the top of the rise. He lowered his head so his eyes were level with hers. “Go to him, dear one. I will return