Diamond in the Rough - Vivienne Savage Page 0,31

time. With great effort, he partially extended one, though without its twin he failed to catch any air. The wind tore past it and his fall continued while he battled for control of his extremities. His shoulder ached from the wound he’d sustained during the fight and resisted the effort until, roaring with fury, Xavier snapped out both wings to their full span, tearing open the healing wound anew seconds before striking the ground. The shock ripped through his body and thrust him high, though the agony felt as if both would rip from their joints. Off balance, he flapped desperately, only to lose the rhythm and go tumbling to the ground.

He struck the rocky ground in an area of vast desert and skidded for what felt like miles. His tough exterior saved him, sustaining minor scrapes but otherwise unharmed from the fall. Thick draconic bones took the shock of the landing.

At the end of it all, he groaned and lay sprawled against the heated desert, resisting the siren’s song of slumber until sensation returned to his limbs.

Then the vibrations of many footsteps on the ground told him he was not alone.

12

Friendship Made, Respect Earned

“How is he?” Rosalia asked the village elder.

Isabis stood beside her, puffing fragrant smoke from a corncob pipe while observing the team of healers working over the dragon’s prone body near the village center. “As well as one could expect of a dragon,” Isabis said while observing Xavier’s sleeping breaths. “Were he any other creature, I doubt he could have survived such a collision. He will heal. Without medicine, it may have taken years.”

“And with?”

Men and women had traveled from a nearby clan a day’s journey by the power of their desert-loving reptilian mounts, for the number among Isabis’s community hadn’t been enough to heal a creature as large as Xavier.

Ever since her return from Moritan’s plane, she’d guarded the magical ruby with her life and allowed no one but Isabis and the siblings to see it. At the elder’s suggestion, she’d concealed it from all others.

While her people were honorable, a temptation as great as the Heart of Moritan would sway even the staunchest of souls, for none had seen their ancestral heirloom from the deity in decades. Isabis thought if the remaining villagers knew of their mission, there would be outrage among them and anger that an outsider had taken it from the altar.

When she returned to find the two brothers and Hyraj desperately staggering to the exit of the volcano, injured and perilously close to death, instinct overcame Rosalia—and she’d clutched the stone and drawn the ambient heat into the gem and absorbed it, cooling the area within seconds.

For two days, Rosalia feared the wraith would return. For two days, Xavier had slept as still as stone, barely appearing to breathe at all. Those two days since returning from the volcano felt like years.

“Only he can decide that. He has fallen into a deep healing sleep. He was fortunate the fall brought him so close to the village. Even more fortunate we heard the crash. He broke a leg, and that is no easy feat for a dragon.”

Rosalia shuddered. Time and time again she came close to losing him. If anyone had sacrificed for their mission, it was Xavier.

“What about Hyraj and her brothers?”

“Stable. While Ahrak’s injury was great, the wound is nothing time and good medicine will not cure. Hyraj and Simi need only a few days’ rest to recover from the heat sickness. They’re all fortunate to be alive. Now, come with me. There is someone you must speak with.”

“But…” Rosalia glanced at the sleeping dragon, his face pinched with discomfort even during the deep sleep of hibernation.

“He is well tended and you will be at his side again soon enough.”

“All right.”

It surprised her that the Moritta would set aside their differences and disdain toward dragons to care for him. At least, it had initially startled her until she accepted the simplest, most apparent truth: the Moritta were far better people than the humans she knew. Far better than the citizens of Enimura.

Rosalia followed Isabis into the adjacent building, a meeting hall of sorts with a low, round table surrounded by elaborately stitched cushions in a multitude of vibrant colors. Two women and a man were already sitting at the table.

“Lillani, Miriam, Horan, let me introduce you to Rosalia. Rosalia, our honored traders. If anything occurs in the desert, they are aware of it.”

Rosalia sat opposite them and searched their stoic