"Do you even have anywhere that's safe to do this?"
There was a hint of sadness in her voice. Did she really care? "The mountains, a few hours away. We have a den up there, beyond where it's safe for the humans to trek. Though we haven't been that way for a couple of years. It's possible that the landslides have made it easy enough to climb, but we can fix that when we get there."
"So, you have to go live on a mountain, hide from everything and everyone you know, just because you're you."
"Yes. And we do it frequently enough that we have an arrangement with one another. Enough so that we have a safehouse, of sorts, in every location we've ever lived. It still wasn't enough to save Mother."
She fell silent as we flew. As we approached Eskal's place once more, she piped up. "I'm sorry that we've done this to all of you."
I didn't respond. There was a distinct lack of aggression at Eskal's home, for which I was relieved. I landed as gently as I could, careful not to smash her into the ground, though landing on three paws was an awkward thing to do for an animal that was capable of crushing walls. I didn't bother to shift back. We would have to hurry and I was getting tired. Another shapeshift just meant more energy spent.
My head came to rest on the sidewalk once again and I yawned. Inside, I could hear Eskal shouting as he hurried my wingmates along. If there was time for a nap, I wanted it. My eyes slid shut and Olivia ran a hand over my belly.
A shimmering, pure sensation pulled at my senses. I blinked back at her as my skin rippled. She must not have seen my look, because she only patted me once more and hurried off inside to help.
What had that been?
I shivered again and laid back down. Was it terrible that I was looking forward to our departure? I wasn't certain how we were going to manage the eggs on such a long trip, but we'd had little issue getting them back from the museum. Would we simply wrap Olivia around them to keep them safe? Eskal was a bit larger than I was and she seemed to have a better foothold on him than she did me.
Perhaps it would be better if she rode him, after all.
It still raked me, but it was more like a scratch than a deep, tearing hurt that had me wanting to rip the road apart. I fought with myself over it. Pro; she was a decent human. Con? She was still a human and not to be trusted.
Yet hadn't I spent most of my life over the past century with the human community? Certainly, more than my wingmates had. I sighed as my feelings got the better of me. If I'd been an alpha, I would have been pleased to have such a sweet little morsel wandering in our midst.
As the only beta among so many alphas, I felt like I was being replaced. And none of them had so much as kissed her.
But I was positive I knew where it was going. They would kiss, they would mate, and I would be left in a cold pile of leaves with no one to talk to.
When we'd been more of a community than a scattered people, I'd been teased for my alignment. All betas were; we came to get used to it or the teasing got worse. Alphas poked fun at you, the omegas wouldn't give you the time of day, and the other betas were rough on you, too.
What if Eskal decided to turn her into one of us? He knew the spells to do it, though it had been forbidden for the past several centuries; a human had infiltrated a flight's ranks only to sell them over to a king. It had led to the extinction of a proud, ancient line of drakes because of it. And ever since, most dragons had considered it wrong to turn the humans to our side.
I couldn't imagine he'd do it. Shifting in front of the humans was causing us enough trouble. Actually making one of them part of our community? I growled under my breath and raked up his driveway a little.
Not that I thought Olivia would agree to something like that. At least, not right away. That gave me time to slow everything down, maybe find something that could be said that would send her back to humanity when it was safe.
I needed to talk to Eskal about this, but where was the time? With the need to flee, he wouldn't be settling down for days to come. Even when he did, he'd be twitchy and upset. Of all of us, he was the worst when we had to run. For good reason.
He'd been there when it had happened; when Mother and the rest of our community had been killed. We had been out wind surfing, enjoying the high breezes beneath our wings and hurtling toward the ground at horrifying speeds; only to soar up at the last moment. It was sort of the dragon version of playing Chicken, but with a mountain
