Gorgon said nothing.
Don’t give up. Meira sucked in as her mother’s voice—a memory from childhood and even when she’d been a young woman—sounded clearly in her mind, the image equally as clear.
Meira spun to face Maul, finding the hellhound watching her. He was showing her a real memory. A moment. Telling her to keep going.
Right. Her mate was out there fighting—for his clan and king. “My lord.” She turned to Gorgon. “Your forces are going to need help.”
Speculation disappeared behind the snap of purpose, his shoulders drawing back. More like the Gorgon she’d known before Pytheios got his rotting hands on him. “Your sisters?”
Meira nodded.
“Do it.”
She spun back to the mirror and immediately called up Skylar’s mountain in the image. Luck was with her. Her sister’s routine of training with the men meant she was easily found in the massive chamber not unlike the one Meira had just been in.
In seconds, the King and Queen of the Blue Clan were summoned across the room to stand in front of Meira and Gorgon. Quickly, Gorgon explained the situation to Ladon and Skylar.
“They’re up against twice as many, based on the readings my men are seeing,” Gorgon added. “Possibly more.”
Meira glanced at the king, only to pause as she realized his eyes were full dragon, narrowed slits for pupils, the black consuming the full orb. He must be communicating with his men telepathically.
“Did they send the full armies of both clans?” Ladon demanded.
Gorgon cocked his head as though listening to an unheard conversation. “No. They’ve reached our farther scouts. Apparently, their ranks are bolstered with some of our own.”
Ladon released a snarl. “Traitors.”
For his part, Gorgon remained calm. “Or misguided.”
“What do you need from me?” Ladon asked.
Meira shared a glance with the king at her side. “We need Skylar to send as many of your men as she can. Now.”
Ladon, eyes already blazing with blue flame, nodded. “Done.”
“Come in on the eastern side of the mountain,” Gorgon said. “They won’t be expecting anyone to approach from behind.”
“Understood.”
Meira sought first Ladon’s gaze, then her sister’s. “Thank you.”
Skylar reached out and flattened her palm against the mirror, and Meira met the touch. “Stay safe,” Skylar commanded.
Meira wouldn’t make promises like that. Instead she smiled. “I love you.”
Then she doused the flame.
Gorgon took her by the hand. “I need you to take me back to the landing.”
Meira frowned and shook her head. “You can’t.”
“If my people are fighting against their own, it’s for a reason. They need to see me.”
She knew he was right, knew this was his decision and his alone. Still, no matter what it meant to her and Samael, she wouldn’t see Gorgon dead.
“Take me there. Please.”
She inhaled, long and slow, reaching for the sense of calm he possessed, a peaceful warmth emanating from the king and settling over her skin. “Are you sure?”
In answer, he stepped forward and, hand cupping her elbow, turned them both to face the mirror.
“Maul,” she called. The hellhound lumbered over to stand on Meira’s other side. “Protect the king.”
He flashed her an image of her own face, and she patted his shoulder. “I can take care of myself.”
Maul huffed a sound that might’ve been agreement or a scoff.
Ignoring him, she put a hand on the king and walked him back into the hangar through the guards’ window. Maul popped up beside them in the same instant. The massive dragon-steel door remained open, though the one shutting the hangar off from the rest of the mountain was 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
