fishlike scales, painting its slick flesh a pale silvery-blue. Boulders crashed down in its wake, sending waves slamming over her head.
The dragon was pissed, understandably. As any good mother would be. Haven dived, tossing spheres of golden magick around her for light as she speared toward shore. The impact of the orc entering the cove reverberated through the water and then . . . silence.
In the water, they’re absolutely lethal.
It would make no sound as it stalked her. The strike would be lightning fast, her death over before she could register the pain.
She had a few seconds, at best, to kill it first.
Unless . . .
The rune to control water was a simple figure eight and a five point star intertwined. The moment she finished the symbol, she latched onto the water with her mind. Imagined it curled around her fingers like seaweed, slick and pliable.
Then she flung both arms out. There was a great whooshing sound as the water surged to her right and left, parting around her in two growing waves.
When the waves were nearly as tall as the cliff and the path at least twenty feet wide, she lunged toward the shore, sand shoving between her toes and making her work twice as hard.
Now at least she would see the sea orc coming, buying Haven a few seconds before death.
Debris scattered the sandy path. Rocks, mounds of kelp, a few flopping minnows. She kept her eyes trained on the two walls of water as she leapt over trenches and skirted boulders, her sodden braid slapping up and down on her shoulder.
A long, serpentine shadow flickered against the dark green wall to her right. There and gone.
A sudden panic hit. What if it attacked the others?
No, they would have shields erected. Powerful, impenetrable shields fueled by their collective magick.
Twenty feet remained till shore. If she could just find solid ground before her spell wore off . . .
A burst of water jerked her attention to the right just in time to see the sea orc surging toward her. She ducked, rolling over her right shoulder, and popped to her feet on the other side of the orc.
The creature was so long that half of its body still remained in the water while the other half was coiled along the path. That enormous head—nearly the size of a carriage—bobbed back and forth. Short front legs dug into the sand with talons the length of her forearm, and smoke curled around glittering teeth.
Haven’s sword hilt was cool and wet inside her palm. Her heart rocked her chest as her fingers curled around the metal, feet digging into the sand, and she began to draw her sword—
Don’t, a small voice whispered into Haven’s head. It was so soft she might have imagined it, until the voice repeated, Don’t. She’s only protecting her babies.
The voice was childish, brimming with raw, clumsy magick. Her first instinct was to erect defenses to prevent the intruder from entering her mind again, but something had her glance up instead. Toward the crowd at the top of the cliffs.
It was easy to spot Eros’s children; they were the only ones surrounded by the royal guard above. Her gaze riveted to the older boy’s, and his eyes widened as he realized he’d been caught.
Magick. Eros’s children possessed magick.
Her attention dropped to the mouth of the cave—and the two pale dragon heads peeking out from the shadows. A shudder slammed through her knowing they would witness their mother’s slaughter.
Her sword was half-pulled. Any second now, the sea orc would rain fire around her. She could use the water to shield herself, but then her hold on it would break and she’d be in the same predicament as before.
The only option left was to fight, but—
She tried to reach out into the dragon’s mind once more only to recoil from what she felt.
Or, rather, saw.
Baby sea orcs, her babies, dead in the water. Speared by sailors. Their tiny bodies half-submerged.
More than once.
The mother’s pain and sadness was like a wave of agony crashing over Haven. She saw the sea orc gently carrying her past dead babies to the cave. Saw her nudging them. Curling her body around them in a desperate attempt to bring them back to life.
Haven understood the emotion in the creature’s eyes now. Not rage, not animalistic hatred, but a mother’s protective instincts. She would do whatever it took—even give her life—to save the babies in the nest above.
Just like Haven’s own mother.
And Haven knew with a