Page 109 of Tears of Gold

Skye roars. “Like I said, over my dead body!” Water seeps up from the ground, small pools quickly flowing to become lakes across the ground.

Farax pauses, looking around. “Why protect her? She's just one human.”

“None of your qi-damned business, but I'll tell you this for free—she's under the protection of Prince Erritt Elduwan Exerin. Elite elementals will be here in ten seconds. If you value your life, and that of dragons everywhere, fuck off now!”

Farax snarls. “Fool! Elementals won't help you! Are you really siding with those who oppress us? Who beat you up daily and murdered hundreds of our clans? What would your parents say? What about your gran? Shame on you!”

Skye roars in fury, and the house shivers. ‘What would you care? You never visited! You never asked about me!”

I take a deep breath to steady my nerves. I think Skye and I will need to have a heart to heart after this, but right now a deep sadness permeates my soul. I never stopped to think about what Skye was giving up to be with me at the school or how isolated he’s been from his family in the wake of the dragon purges. And now he’s drawing yet another line between himself and his kind, for my sake. This Farax is the first confirmed dragon fighting with the Davinas, which could spark another dragon purge once my father hears of it.

I step through the doorway, Skye's barrier so strong it stings my skin. Walking to his side, I hear my name cried through the ranks in the trees.

“Leave while you still can.”

The other dragon growls and bares his teeth, his head snaking low as he swings toward Skye, ignoring me. “Why would you bring an elemental to your home? Are you his prisoner, Skye?”

“No,” my dragon hisses, tone venomous. “And you've just attacked a royal. Start running.”

The dragon stares at us, nostrils flaring and teeth gleaming in the sun. His dark brown scales shine with coppery hints in the sunlight, and his orange mane ripples in the breeze.

Suddenly, he chuckles. “A couple of humans and two exhausted tiger cubs. I think this is a good chance to win ourselves a bargaining chip with the emperor.”

A chorus of feral cheers rings from the troops surrounding him.

Skye shakes his head, a low rumble vibrating through him. “What happens next is on your head, Farax.” The red fades from Skye’s scales, leaving him looking pale. He twitches his head at me, and we walk backward to the house.

Farax opens his mouth and roars. A hurricane wind smashes against us as we slip through the shield. Some of the gusts follow us and windows shatter.

“Do it,” Skye says, tears rolling down his bony muzzle.

My heart aches for him as I pull a square of fabric from my travel case and set it on the table. My qi burns, but I can't ask Skye to help—he's holding the barrier together, which is the only thing keeping us alive right now. Plus, he seems to know the dragon outside, who will no doubt be condemned to death.

Clamping down on a groan, I put my hand on the charm and feed my powers into it. My qi screams and my essence shivers, paralyzing my nerves with fiery waves of agony. I force more power into the command; if I screw up the summoning, Vanrey’s life will be in danger.

Fuck! I think I just split something!

After what feels like an agonizing eternity, the threads hum and I step back. Vanrey shimmers into view. Black-rimmed reading glasses perch on his nose and he holds a book. I blink at the unexpected sight. As he forms, he summons his own weapons.

An Elite, alright. Ready for anything.

Vanrey shuts his book with a loud snap and scans me up and down. I give him a nod, and he glances around the room, taking in Skye draped across the couch, crying. The pink sunrise streams through the window, catching on the blood streaked across the dragon’s scaly cheeks and turning it a burnished red-gold. As his chest heaves with sobs, his tears slide through the mess, leaving pale streaks in the gold, in the same way my eye paint smeared after the New Year’s party. The freedom we enjoyed here at the cabin is as much an illusion as my life as a royal.

Vanrey swings about, checking on Harper guarding the back door with bloodstained blades and Ava peeking from under the bed.

“Everyone unharmed?” he asks.

“Davina attack, we're all fine. Their reinforcements just arrived.”

Skye rumbles. “I count forty, including a dragon, a pain-in-the-ass class one yokai, and something else that just arrived. Give me one sec to pull myself together—”

“No need, Skye,” I say. “You've done enough. Vanrey, call the Guard.”

Skye’s head lifts. “I was bluffing!”

I give Vanrey a nod, and he stretches out his hand. A moment later, a cloth as big as a hearth rug materializes. He jumps down from the table and heaves it up. “Not enough space here. Front yard—can you shield me?”

Nodding, I open the door. “Get ready for a possible quick exit out the back, everyone. We won't want to be here in a few more minutes. Our holiday is over.”