The Warrior King (Inferno Rising #3) - Abigail Owen Page 0,111

down. Outside, the storm had rolled in, thick clouds making it almost impossible to see.

Gorgon left her inside the chamber and walked haltingly to the center of the room. There he shifted, mirage-like waves swallowing the man whole and shimmering over the slowly growing form of a dragon, the process taking longer than she’d seen others. But he completed the change and flared his wings wide, trumpeting a blast that sounded almost like triumph.

He dropped to all fours with incredible stealth, almost as though she’d been watching a movie on mute. Then he swung his spiked head around to stare at her. Meira tried not to step back, fear suddenly taking hold of her with scalding claws at the fury in his eyes and the anger radiating from him like sound waves, beating against her.

Bloodlust. Was this that elusive emotion that had been pulsing from him? She wasn’t sure.

Had the dragon taken over from the man, or was she seeing the true Gorgon for perhaps the first time?

“You mated Samael.” A hushed growl in her head.

The searing fear dug deeper, and she curled her hand into Maul’s fur but refused to step back.

“He’s my fated mate,” she said simply.

The King of the Black Clan said nothing. Instead, he flared his wings wide, took two running steps, and launched himself into the air, disappearing into the fog-filled air beyond.

…

Smart of the Green and White Clans to attack during the day, hindering the Black Clan’s greatest weapon—their stealth.

The storm, however, while hiding the coming battle from human eyes, would hinder them all. Lightning illuminated the skies in bright flashes, showing the clouds around and above him in stark relief and outlining the bodies of the dragons taking up their positions on the crags and peaks of the mountain.

A dragon in the air was dangerous. One defending a peak more so. Coming at him from above exposed the attacker’s belly to slashing claws and fire. Coming at him from below put the attacker in range of that spiked tail, even more deadly when used like a club.

They were still far enough away from night that Samael directed his warriors to man the mountain, keeping a handful flying around it at different levels.

A flash of lightning revealed one of his men to his left. As soon as the light dissipated, he went back to seeing nothing through the dense air. At least the green dragons would have no camouflage among them. The white dragons might have more opportunity to hide at altitude where the clouds remained more their color before topping out in blue skies. Which put them at an advantage, able to dive-bomb his men with little to no warning.

“Amun. Take a squad up top. Above the clouds.”

“They’ll be able to see us.”

Samael’s muscles unclenched a millimeter. This was how he and Amun had always communicated—only the two of them where the others couldn’t hear the argument so that they presented a united front to the men.

“Not if you see them first. I need someone hitting the fuckers before they can drop on us.”

“Sir.”

In the flash of illumination from a lightning bolt, the shadows of several dragons angled upward, wings beating to carry them aloft, told him he’d been obeyed.

Next, he sent his thoughts out to his scouts. The men on duty who’d caught the incoming forces in the first place, watchers constantly rotating duty to protect their mountain from all comers. “Report.”

Silence greeted his command. Not a good sign.

“Japeth?”

Nothing.

“Amun, do you see anything up top?”

“Not a damn thing. This has to be the worst storm we’ve seen in—”

Only the crackling roar of sound warned Samael that the burst of gray coming at him from the right was flame and not cloud.

Gray. One of his own. Dammit.

“Evasive maneuvers,” he shouted as he flipped up and over the column of flame, coming at his attacker from the side.

He barreled into a smoky-colored dragon that blended perfectly with the clouds. Immediately, he recognized Padram. One of his men. No satisfaction hit him as the thing’s ribs crunched under the impact. Rather than risk the trained fighter’s talons and teeth, Samael flared his wings wide, letting the other dragon’s momentum carry it into the side of the mountain where two of his faithful dragons waited, ready to beat at whatever came at them. Samael couldn’t see what happened, but the sounds of Padram’s screeches and the thuds of tails slamming into scales and bones reached him all the same. Followed by the tumble of a body