“You came,” she says, and I nod, picking her up and placing her on my back.
“I couldn’t leave you to fight without me. Never again will you be without me.”
Charlie lets out a sound that sounds like a cross between a laugh and a sob. And then I turn my head, finding a group of purple two-legs creeping closer, pointed weapons in their hands.
I snarl at them, spit fire, and take Charlie to the sky.
“Oh God,” she says. “Dragix…we’re losing this battle.”
She’s right. I lean down and blow fire through the center of the Dokhalls. But it’s not enough to turn them to ash. Not anymore.
Charlie’s legs tense around me as the Dokhalls scream, attempting to put out the flames that ravage their bodies.
“What’s going on, Dragix?”
“I only have so much flame, little two-leg. I have been hunting the purple invaders already today and have not eaten enough to replenish my fire.”
“Oh shit.”
I watch the purple two-legs. They scream and run in circles, attempting to put out the flames engulfing them. It provides a good distraction as the invaders near them move away, scared of the flames.
But it’s not enough.
The Braxians are slowly retreating, likely hoping to get behind the camp walls. There are thousands of Braxians, but their swords are no match for the Dokhall weapons, which spit blue light.
So many of them have fallen that they are slumped on each other, the ground a sea of bodies.
Alexis is handing the Braxians the Dokhall weapons that she has obviously ordered to be collected. From the way she’s holding them and screaming at the Braxians, she’s teaching them how to use them.
“Dragix, she needs more weapons. Can we help?”
I swoop down, plucking the long sticks from fallen Dokhalls, and Alexis lets out a cheer as we dump them at her feet.
But it’s too late. The Braxians’ right flank has fallen, giving the Dokhalls a clear path to the human females.
Rakiz turns his head, roaring at Nevada to move, and she nods, her face pale as she glances around her.
But she is now surrounded.
“Dragix!” Charlie is screaming, pointing at Nevada.
One of the purple two-legs has obviously decided against taking the human females back to his ship. He has lost his weapon, but he picks up a sword, a savage grin on his face. Revenge. It’s clear that he wants vengeance for his fallen friends.
He’s holding Nevada’s sword.
She’s clutching a crossbow, and she aims it at him. He dodges left as she shoots, missing his chest as the arrow hits his arm.
Charlie lets out a dry sob as I arrow toward Nevada, planning to snatch her from the ground.
Beth is suddenly there, a crossbow in her hand as she aims at the Dokhall. But Vivian gets to Nevada first, her mouth grim, her face set in determination as she steps in front of Nevada, pushing her to the ground.
The Dokhall slides his sword into her chest.
Nevada, Beth, and Charlie are screaming as I reach the Dokhall, my claws slashing. His head rolls to the ground, but it may be too late for the two-leg female.
“Oh God, oh God,” Charlie is crying as she jumps off my back and falls to her knees beside Nevada.
Nevada is screaming. “Why, Vivian? Why would you do that?”
The female’s lips are bloody, a bad sign. “You’re pregnant,” she says with a weak smile, and Nevada sobs, clutching Vivian to her as she rocks.
Beth screams for a healer, and one of them rushes forward from behind the hill.
“I will attempt to heal her.” I glance down at the bleeding female. I want to tell Charlie that it is too late, that Vivian is losing too much blood. But I must at least try.
Rakiz is suddenly next to Nevada, his face white as he stares down at Vivian.
“She saved my life,” Nevada tells him, and he pulls her into his arms, his eyes closing for a moment in relief. His expression is tormented as he stares down at the bleeding female—the female under his protection.
I lean down and examine the wound. Then I get to work, pushing my saliva deep into the female’s chest.
“What the hell is he doing?” Beth demands.
“Healing her,” Charlie says. “Just like he healed me.”
“Holy shit,” Nevada says. Then her voice goes low. “We’re losing, aren’t we?”
Rakiz’s tone is gentle. “Yes, karja.”
Rakiz leans close to me as I lick between the female’s ribs.
“I need you to take the females away from here,” Rakiz says.
Nevada and Beth are instantly protesting, both of them covered in Vivian’s blood as the female barely clings to life. Charlie just looks at me and shakes her head.
I ignore that and nod at Rakiz. Then I move back from Vivian. “I have done all I can, but I am not a god. She has lost a lot of blood.”
The healer takes over, dripping some kind of concoction into Vivian’s mouth, and then we all turn as a loud horn sounds from the battlefield.
Charlie scrambles to her feet, and I pull her onto my back where she can see.
The Dokhalls are falling.
Falling to an army that marches toward us, carrying gleaming black shields that protect them from the blue lights of the Dokhalls’ weapons.
“Oh my God,” Charlie says. “It’s Arix. He actually came.”
She’s pointing to a Braxian on the front lines. He’s riding a scaled beast, and a black crown gleams on his head.
He glances across the battlefield and salutes us with his sword as Charlie lets out a whoop of relief.
“Eat, Dragix. I need you to eat.”
“I don’t want to leave you.”
“With Arix’s forces and your fire, we can kill them. Please, Dragix, I’ll be fine.”
I help her off my back and turn to Rakiz. He nods, and I lean down, running my snout against Charlie’s head.
“Very well.”
I don’t go far. I take to the skies and then swoop down, plucking Dokhalls from their lines. The most cowardly turn and run, heading for the cover of trees as the
