Page 36 of Drakken Star
Nik typed on the console. “Done, Vidar.”
“Manning.” Bjorn pointed to the view in the opposite corner. They stood shoulder to shoulder in silent awe as Orm, Usan, and Ardes shifted from their more human form into stunningly beautiful drakken. A bright green, a burnished red, and a mottled green-and-gold drakken raised their heads and roared before leaping into the air and were lost to view on that particular screen. They reappeared along with the flight of drakken arriving from the castle on the overhead quarter. A military landcraft sped onto the vid in the square where Orm had just been, the rear door of the vehicle bursting open. As Brandt and Sekvyn scrambled inside, Manning realized it was Ivar in the front passenger seat.
“This will be better,” Nik said, clicking away. The vid changed to a split screen. The overhead view moved to fill the left hand side while the right side became a bouncing weaving view out the front window of the military craft.
“Follow the drakken,” Ivar’s voice filled the conference room.
“Can we go any faster?” Brandt urged.
“I’d rather not crash,” Sekvyn replied dryly.
The bouncing screen turned Manning’s stomach, so he switched to watching the aerial view. Bjorn’s shoulder bumped him, and his brother’s fingers threaded through his own. Manning gave him what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze, and drew strength from the contact for himself.
“I’m not waiting any longer,” Bjorn murmured. “As soon as we get him back, I’m claiming him.”
“Good. Tyr deserves one hundred percent of your devotion. You’ve held him at arm’s length for too long.”
“You’re right. I was stupid. I saw his youth as a disadvantage, but that stops now. I need him by my side.”
“I look forward to watching your joining ceremony,” Manning quipped, watching as the drakken swooped towards the fires. “Do you see them?”
“No. Nik, can you zoom in with the aerial satellite cam?” Bjorn stepped closer to the vid, dragging Manning with him.
“Sure.” Nik placed his hands right on the screen and spread them apart, the view widening and moving in as he did so.
“I think I should take a few tech courses,” Manning muttered.
Bjorn huffed. “Me, too. I’m woefully ignorant of anything past accessing reports or returning communications. There!” He pointed to a group of five huddling behind a stack of barrels at the edge of a small building. Manning smiled to see how Kayluth had Tyr tucked to his side, but that quickly changed when he realized who else was with him.
“What is Kay doing with Hazer, and is that another Drakken?” he asked, though the bluish stones in the Drakken’s ebony braids glinting in the sunlight gave him his answer.
Nik zoomed in on the Drakken in question.
“Female,” Father Tai commented. “Oh…” He pointed at how close the Fenrir and Drakken stood, and how Hazer’s hand rested on her arm. He turned to Father Ly. “Do you think…?”
Father Ly clutched his braids, a sure sign of his discomfort. “I have never sseen nor even heard of a mating between our racess.” Lyurn shuffled closer to Father Tai, who tugged him closer.
With a comforting rumble, Father Tai hugged his sobroke to his chest. “Thiss changess everything.”
“No,” Bjorn said, dropping Manning’s hand and stepping up to the vid. He pointed at Tyr standing within the arms of another male. “Thischanges everything.”
Svandis cursed.
Manning gasped.
Hel, Loki, what have you done?
Chapter 11
Kayluth
The combined roar of multiple drakkens made Kayluth’s soul soar. He tipped his head back to gaze up at the fleet of drakken beginning to circle above them. Recognizing Orm’s brilliant green scales from having played together as drakeen and continuing through adulthood, he was easy to pick out of the dozen blazing beasts above. The urge to shift and fly with them itched beneath his skin, and he had to forcibly push the impulse down even as a line of scales formed along his arms.
Beside him, Tyr shuddered. “Kay…” He grabbed Kayluth’s arm, his head bowed, face pale and teeth gritted. Quickly discerning Tyr’s difficulty in dealing with the compulsion to shift and join their brethren, Kayluth covered Tyr’s ears. Nykos pressed close to Tyr’s back, wrapping his arms around his mate’s waist.
Each stanza the Drakken sang burned a fiery path along Kayluth’s limbs, veins, heating his blood, but the distraction of aiding Tyr helped him ignore their song of independence, of fighting together, of death to their enemies, and the love of their fellow Drakken. If he was feeling it, then it made sense Tyr was, too, and he hoped by muffling the rising beat of the song, Tyr wouldn’t shift in the too small space they stood in.
Unfortunately, Kayluth could tell Tyr’s youth dragged him closer and closer to needing to shift and there wasn’t enough room where they currently hid. He glanced around for the most open area. Tyr’s age was a benefit in that he’d still be on the smaller side for a drakken—shorter in height and length than Kayluth’s own shifted form—so the area needed didn’t have to be necessarily huge, just somewhat larger.
