Page 108 of Taloned Heart

“I know.”

She didn’t tell him she was here when Abraxas had been injured. She didn’t even look at the hole where she’d thrown Margaret. The elf was dead. Lore had made sure of that. Her body meant nothing when Lore’s family was right here.

Nyx and Hyperion looked up, their massive heads swaying back and forth over Abraxas’s body.

The acid still steamed where it had slowed, but still burned through his flesh. The white bones of his ribs stood up out of his body, gleaming in the dim sunlight, and she could see that he wasn’t moving at all. Like the others. Like all the others she’d forced to stay here in unmeasurable pain.

Dropping to her hands and knees in front of him, she pressed her palms to his nose and kissed the scales that were slowly cooling.

She could feel him in there. The pain and the heartbreak and the worry. Even now, locked in the prison of his own body, he feared for his family, not himself.

“My love,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. But I cannot let you go.”

Magic flowed over him, pulsing in visible rays of light that rocked over his body and surged through his wounds. She healed him from the inside out, using all her magic and power and concentration to rebuild a massive body that was even stronger than before. Lore felt the limits of her abilities stretch and grow and the pain of it rocked through her because this was her fault. All of it. Every injury, wound, and moment of pain was her fault. She could have done more. She should have done more.

And then Abraxas took a deep breath.

His ribs expanded, now covered with a thin stretch of flesh and the fine glimmer of ruby scales that would grow bigger and stronger as he healed. A wing spread over her, protecting her from the gazes of all those who surrounded them and from anyone who might hurt her.

Even now, her dragon sought to protect her.

The bump of a cool blue nose pressed against her side, then a flicker of green tucked against Abraxas’s healed belly showed her that he hadn’t just protected her. He’d gathered up his family underneath those massive wings and held them close to his sides.

His eyes opened, those golden orbs staring straight into her soul. A low murmur echoed through him, and Lore patted her hand to his muzzle one more time.

“I’m not done yet,” she said quietly. “Keep your strength for now, my love.”

“I didn’t leave you,” he replied. “I didn’t want to.”

“Oh, you think I would let you leave us that easily?” The darkness flared inside her again, but then she banished it with a soft smile. Lore leaned her head against Nyx’s side. “I’m sorry, Abraxas, you’ll have to try a lot harder than that if you want to get away from us.”

His soft snort pushed her back in the dirt, her knees sliding away from him until Nyx shoved her back against his now warm scales. “I would never want to leave you.”

She smiled at him and looked at Hyperion and Nyx, who stared back at her. They were all covered and tucked in by the strength and power of a crimson wing, and she knew deep in her heart that this was all that mattered now.

She’d saved the kingdom again. She’d set up a court and a way for all the magical creatures and humans to talk. That was it. She was done. They could figure out the rest of this on their own if they actually wanted it to work. And if it didn’t, then they would deal with the consequences on their own. She was tired of being a goddess, and she’d never meant to be one, anyway.

Tears pooling in her eyes, she struggled not to blink, so they didn’t fall down her cheeks. “Do you want to go home?” she whispered. “Just say the word, my love. I will take us all out of here and we will leave this moment.”

Abraxas shifted his head in the dirt and drew them all closer with his massive wing. “Ah, but my home is right here. My home is in you, in our children, in our family. I’m already home, Lore. Always have been.”

And the shattered pieces of her heart knit back together as her little family breathed each other in.

Alive.

Full of hope for what their future might be.

EPILOGUE

3months later

Abraxas tugged at the uncomfortable neckline of his shirt. Zephyr had insisted that he dress in royal clothing, even though Abraxas hated the stiff fabric. His neck was too thick for clothing like this. It made him feel trapped, and a dragon feeling trapped was a dangerous thing indeed.

An angry hiss from behind him suggested his son was feeling the same.

Abraxas turned, grinning at Hyperion as he wrestled with the neckcloth that was supposed to be folded delicately around their throats. Another angry hiss was then followed by a belch of fire that incinerated the fabric.

“Hyperion,” he groaned. “That was the last one we had. I don’t think the servants will bring you another.”

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