Author: Megan Derr
Date: 2014-06-15 21:41:43+00:00
Keywords: M M Romance; Romance; Shapeshifters; Fantasy; Paranormal; Lgbt; Supernatural; Fiction; Short Stories; dragons; Gay; Magic
Description: Najlah is on the hunt for the traitorous coward who attempted to assassinate the king and nearly killed Najlah's brother in the process. But the hunt has taken his team deep into the Shide, the treacherous, freezing mountains controlled by the mysterious Lukos, feral wolf shifters who do not tolerate trespassers. When the Lukos come upon them, Najlah is reluctantly intrigued. The Lukos, especially the one called Barkus, are nothing like the soft humans he spends most of his time around. They thrive in the brutal cold the way he thrives in volcanic fire. For the first time, it feels like Najlah
Publisher: Less Than Three Press, LLC

Table of Contents

Title Page

Book Details

Lukos Heat

About the Author

Lukos Heat

Heart of Fire

MEGAN DERR

Najlah is on the hunt for the traitorous coward who attempted to assassinate the king and nearly killed Najlah's brother in the process. But the hunt has taken his team deep into the Shide, the treacherous, freezing mountains controlled by the mysterious Lukos, feral wolf shifters who do not tolerate trespassers.

When the Lukos come upon them, Najlah is reluctantly intrigued. The Lukos, especially the one called Barkus, are nothing like the soft humans he spends most of his time around. They thrive in the brutal cold the way he thrives in volcanic fire. For the first time, it feels like Najlah may have found someone who can equal the fierceness of dragons, and see them as more than demons.

But if he hopes to explore the bond forming with the Lukos, he must first survive the enemy—and the Shide.

Book Details

Lukos Heat

Heart of Fire 1

By Megan Derr

Published by Less Than Three Press LLC

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.

Edited by Samantha M. Derr

Cover designed by Julie Wright

Lesserkeystudios.com

This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.

Second Edition October 2014

First Edition published by Storm Moon Press LLC 2013

Copyright © 2014 by Megan Derr

Printed in the United States of America

Digital ISBN 9781620044438

Lukos Heat

Najlah grumbled and shifted restlessly on the campfire until he found a more comfortable position, thinking longingly of his homeland, Tahjil. He hated Restuel's winters. It did not seem fair that the cold was so much worse in the mountains that formed the northern border. He had thought the city wretchedly cold. The mountains were unbearable, like he had died and gone to the deepest levels of Eternal Torment.

Back home, it was all hot sand, hot sun, hot stones. Only natives could endure the brutal heat. When foreigners had begun arriving in droves, the dragons had struggled to keep the idiots from getting themselves killed.

He shifted again, hissing his discontent. The men closest to the fire regarded him sympathetically, and a couple built the fire up higher for him. Najlah thanked them with a soft rumble. To distract himself, he flicked his tongue out, tasting the air, but came away with nothing more than wintry forest, fire, and his companions, the cat and bird shifters that comprised their small unit of the Restuel Royal Shifter Corps.

It was frustrating to be so close to their goal only to be thwarted by the mass and might of the Shide Mountains. They had hoped to catch Kay sooner, but he had proven to be slicker than a brown scale bitch on the prowl.

Najlah tasted the air again—and jerked his head up with a spitting growl, alerting the others, sending embers and sparks flying into the air and out across the snow. Uncoiling his sinuous body, Najlah flexed his claws and sought for stable footing in the snowy ground. His black scales glistened wetly where they were struck by moonlight and flickering flames. Spikes sprang up down the length of his spine to the tip of his tail, drops of poison gleaming at their ends.

He growled loudly, baring his teeth as seven figures came out of the shadows, their scent the most feral thing he'd caught since leaving home. It was similar to dog, but sharper, untamed, with the bitter tang that always accompanied shifters. They also carried the smell of predators: the hot bite of blood and lust for the hunt. Najlah's battle brothers were by no means soft, but they did not compare to these interlopers. Similar to dog and dwelling in the Shide Mountains… these could only be the wolves he'd heard about.

Najlah growled again and dug his claws into the snow, firming his protective stance, ready to attack on a moment. His companions might not have been the equal of these wolves, but to Najlah they would be little more than sand sprites. He was intrigued enough to let them live for the moment, but if they so much as twitched wrong he would happily break their bones, drink their blood, and feast on their flesh. It would warm him better than conversation.

The wolves growled back at him, hackles rising, but Najlah held his ground. They were large, reaching as high as his brothers' hips, and obviously built to thrive in the Shide, but Najlah doubted they knew how to fight a dragon. The foremost of them, a wolf of pure black with eyes the same silver-gold as the moon, stepped forward and barked, then let his tongue loll.

Unimpressed, Najlah turned to Fayth, the captain and his brother-in-law, for orders. "Stand down," Fayth said, motioning to Najlah and the others before turning to the wolves. "You're slow, Lukos. I expected you to find us hours ago."

The lead wolf barked again, and the air grew thick with the tang of wild magic as the Lukos began to shift into their human forms.

Najlah huffed and began his own shift. He did not particularly care if everyone thought him rude if he did not shift, but he would not reflect poorly on his battle brothers. Not that shifting really made much difference in the end. Unlike most shifters, dragons did not have a completely human-looking form. Such a fragile form would get them killed in Tahjil.

Shifted, he stood about as tall as most of his brothers, shorter than the towering Fayth. He was slender, but well-muscled, and his skin was as black as the scales that still covered the majority of his body. His head was smooth, jaw shaped to accommodate his fangs. Even in his human-like form he could not speak because his forked tongue remained, and his teeth were too many, too long, too sharp, for him to speak Restuelen. He flexed his hands, examining his poisonous claws and retracting them when he was satisfied. He hated the softness of his human-like skin where the scales did not protect it, and he sorely missed having a tail.

Even with the heavy warming stone around his neck, Najlah could feel the cold biting. He wanted badly to crawl back into the campfire. Stupid wolves forcing him to abandon the only real warmth he had against the detestable cold. One of his battle brothers brought him a heavy cloak and Najlah rumbled in thanks. Wrapping himself in it, moving closer to the fire, he finally gave his full attention to the wolves.

Of all shifters, the Lukos were the most notorious; they stubbornly kept to themselves in the Shide Mountains, and very little was known about them. They were ferals—shifters with no close ties to humans or even other shifters. Dragons had been feral until a little less than a century ago; many still considered them feral. It troubled some of the other dragons, but Najlah had never cared. Why should the opinions of humans matter to him? He was a dragon, infinitely better.

He had not thought he would get to meet the Lukos. They controlled the Shide Mountains, seldom tolerated trespassers, barely tolerated those who traveled with permission, and never left the Shide if they could possibly avoid it. Though technically the Shide Mountains were part of Restuel, it was well known the Lukos only tolerated the king's rule because it suited them to do so.

"We have the king's permission to be here," Fayth said.

The leader of the Lukos laughed, eyes flashing like moonlight on steel. He was too scruffy to be handsome, but he drew the eye all the same. Tall, broad, with shoulder-length, messy dark hair and those pale, sharp eyes. Nothing at all like a dragon, sleek and smooth and sharp, but not unappealing. "If you didn't have permission, you would already be dead. I know the smell of royal soldiers, and shifters. You are the ones they call the Savages, aren't you?" He looked at Najlah when he asked the question. "The king's finest battle shifters, and it's true they have a dragon. I thought that must be an overblown rumor, but here you are. What a ragtag little pack." He said the word 'pack' mockingly. What made him think they were not one? They were brothers as truly as the hornless brutes Najlah had fought alongside back home. His new brothers might not be dragons, but they fought as fiercely and with all the same love for home and family. Pack, den, different words for the same thing. Who were these stupid wolves to judge them lacking?

Fayth replied coldly, "State your business, Lukos, or leave us to our work."

Laughing again, the leader replied, "Why are a bunch of ill-equipped royal shifters running around our mountain? I'm guessing it has to do with those mages fouling up the place."

Najlah shared a look with Fayth and the others, growling softly.

Reaching into his jacket, Fayth pulled out the sealed letter the king had given him on the chance they crossed paths with the Lukos.

The leader took it, broke the seal, and read in silence. Around him, his wolves exchanged looks, a few of them softly growling or chuffing. Were they communicating silently, by means of magic or some other ability unique to the Lukos? That would be a useful skill to have in the Shide, as enormous and treacherous as they were.

Folding the letter and tucking it away, the leader looked again at Fayth. "If assisting you will help get everyone off the Shide, we'll do it. You'll never do it without us, anyway."

"We've been managing just fine," Fayth said.

"No, you haven't," the leader countered. "A few more days in the direction you're heading would have had you lost in a canyon with no way out. You are also not prepared for how much colder it is going to get. We call these peaks the Frozen Crown for a reason."

Fayth's mouth tightened. "What are your names?"

Grinning toothily, the wolf said, "I am Barkus Shidene, of the Clan Shidene. My pack owns these mountains, whatever the king likes to think." He swept out an arm toward his men as he introduced them. "Hedr, my second in command. Karo, Hyde, Kormis, Dred, and Vyre." He'd barely finished rattling off the names before he returned his attention to Najlah. "I'd heard there were dragons living in the palace, but I did not believe it. You're far from home."

Najlah growled softly, amused by the interest and impressed Barkus was so open about it. Most people were too afraid to be direct.

"It's rude to remain silent," Barkus said, bristling.

Hissing in amusement, Najlah flicked his tongue out, tasting the air, the wolves. Around him, his battle brothers laughed. "He can't speak our languages," Fayth said. "Not with his tongue and all those teeth. He's not so hard to understand. Mostly, he's amused, hungry, or bitching about the cold." Najlah rolled his eyes. "He does not have any qualms about where he finds his food," Fayth added. "He's just as happy to eat you as look at you, so don't do anything stupid."

Barkus shrugged the words aside. "Food sounds like a good idea. While we eat, you can tell us more about this Ranteth we are hunting—assuming the cold doesn't kill him first, which is likely."

"Sit then," Fayth replied and motioned them to gather around the fire.

Shifting back to his true form, Najlah moved to the fire and stoked it. When the flames burned high and hot again, he crawled into them and settled down, ignoring the gawking of the wolves. He glanced at them, flicking his tongue out to taste the air and memorize each one. He paused when he came to Barkus, who still watched him with predatory focus. After a moment Najlah turned his head away. He was not opposed to the attention, necessarily, and might have even returned it, except that even a wolf shifter would likely prove too fragile. Non-dragons, even other shifters, were always far too easily broken. It was not worth the risk, no matter what his brother said. His brother was a horned dragon, a den-dweller. They seldom understood what it was like to be hornless.

More than even the hot stones of his homeland, he missed having an equal. Someone who could take and give with all the force and roughness that Najlah required. He was no soft, warm-blooded creature. He was a hornless black scale; even other dragons gave him space.

Once they were all settled, Fayth said, "This is the closest we have gotten to Lord Kay Ranteth since his attempt to kill the king two months ago. We've been hunting him tirelessly, but so far he's managed to stay ahead of us. If we cannot run him to ground here in the Shide, we will likely never catch him."

Barkus grunted. "The Lukos will catch him. What puzzles us is why Lord Ranteth would attempt to assassinate the king. It is well known that they were more like brothers than cousins, and Ranteth has plenty of power and position as the king's advisor. He gains nothing by turning assassin."

"Their relationship has been strained since His Majesty married Lord Poryth," Fayth replied. "I did not think it had been strained to this point, but I have seen men do worse over less."

"I agree with the majority that it was stupid and selfish of the king to marry a man when his obligation is to produce heirs," Barkus replied, "but he is the king and the law grants him the right. Assassination seems an overreaction."

Najlah growled as he thought of what he would do to the cowardly betrayer when they finally captured him. He would slit Ranteth's throat and drink his blood, tear open his chest and devour first his heart, followed by the rest of his organs. He would eat the bastard's brain last and leave nothing of the man himself behind to return to the earth, and Ranteth's evil deeds already ensured he'd find no rest in the Eternal Flames.

"It was the breaking point, many believe," Fayth said. "The more old-fashioned types, including Ranteth, were already angry that the king encouraged contact with the 'demons of the sands', sided with them in the conflict against old friends. His Majesty compounded the matter when he not only welcomed two of them at court but declared them friends. Anger turned into blinding rage when one of them, Ajith, married Lady Korla."

Barkus snorted. "I would imagine so. The Duchy of Toryth is one of the oldest titles in the kingdom and the wealthiest. She was a perfect candidate for queen, but the king turned around and married a man, and that man a mere baron. And then Lady Korla marries a demon? Clearly none of you should be allowed to arrange your own marriages."

Rumbling in amusement, recalling arguments and tedious meetings that had said much the same thing, Najlah flexed his coiled body, sinuous muscles rippling, dark scales flashing where the firelight caught them just so. Demon. He remembered how often people had said that word when they had arrived in Tahjil. How often they had whispered it when he and his brother Ajith had first arrived at court. Of course, they had said it more of Ajith, enormous in size and magnificent with his long horns.

He would never understand why Ajith had fallen in love with a human. Ajith swore that humans could be stronger than they looked, but Najlah did not believe him. It was true that Korla had so far survived being Ajith's mate, and she was carrying their first kit, but Najlah still worried she would break. She and Ajith were happy together, though. Ajith was happier than he had ever been in Tahjil, and ultimately that was all that mattered.

Fayth kicked at the snow. "We almost had Ranteth a week ago, but he managed to slip by us at the last moment. He's far too good a mage, unfortunately. We're hoping he's having more trouble with the mountains than we are, which might finally give us a chance to finally catch the bastard."

Barkus smirked. Around him, the other wolves shared a look, another silent communication. They had been doing that a lot, at least whenever Najlah bothered to watch them. They could simply be well-attuned to each other, like brutes hunting together, but he still thought his initial thought was correct: they possessed some form of wild magic, or some other unknown ability, that let them communicate without speech. "Alone, you would have stood no chance. With our help, he will be caught. Do you want him alive or dead?"

Najlah snarled at that, head rearing up, and turned to bare his fang at Barkus. His tail lashed the snow, sparks flying all about him as he stirred the campfire. None but he would kill the bastard who had nearly killed Ajith, the king, and the regent. Blood brother and sworn brothers, and Najlah would act for them and devour the man who had hurt them by way of coward's poison.

Laughing, Barkus said, "I get it, dragon. Your kill. No one has told me your name, which seems strange since I was told the names of all the Savages when first ordered to find you."

"We do not share information about him lightly," Fayth said. "His name is Najlah. Lady Korla is my sister. We are in-laws, Naj and I."

Barkus laughed. "How much the country has changed. When my grandfather was my age, dragons were regarded as myth. When my father was my age, they were regarded as demons. Now there is one married to the Duchess of Toryth."

Growing bored with the conversation, Najlah settled back down upon his flames and dozed, leaving the rest of them to talk. He did not care about idle chatter, only about finding Ranteth and devouring him.

When he woke later, the air was wrong. Reluctantly dragging himself from the embers, he shook off accumulated snow and flicked his tongue out several times, tasting the air. Snow was falling heavier than before, wind blowing it in every direction, making it hard to taste anything else and obscuring all but what was immediately in front of him. Najlah hated winter as he hated nothing else in the world.

He turned as the crunch of feet on snow drew his attention and caught the barest hint of wolf on the air. One by one, the wolves appeared, eyes glowing in the dark white that had consumed the mountains. They shook snow from their fur and stared up at the cloud-filled sky, growling or softly whining. Slinking up to them, Najlah hissed.

"Blizzard coming," Barkus said and turned to his men. "We need to find better shelter. Damn it, that bastard must be fucking with the weather because this blizzard doesn't feel or smell right."

What was a blizzard? Najlah growled and hissed at him, but Barkus only frowned with incomprehension. Giving up on the wolves, Najlah sought out Fayth. Thankfully, he was already awake, working with the other to pack their bedrolls and destroy what little remained of the fire. Najlah growled, clawing impatiently at the snow.

Smiling faintly, Fayth said, "A blizzard is a sandstorm of snow. Here, let me increase the strength of your warming stone." Reaching out as Najlah moved close, he wrapped his hands around the smooth, heavy red stone on a thick leather cord around Najlah's throat.

Heat spread through Najlah, and he rumbled in gratitude. Without the warming stones, dragons could not leave their homeland. Nothing else was capable of sustaining their body temperature at the level they needed. It chafed to have to rely on outside help to survive, but the sands were the sands, and they could not change, only shift. Better to shift with the sands than to resist them and be buried.

"Let's move," Barkus ordered, and everyone in camp shifted except for the bird shifters—which meant Fayth, unfortunately. Grounded by the strong winds and heavily falling snow, they would have to travel and fight the hard way. Najlah would have been happier if Fayth had possessed a stronger shift, but it little mattered in the end because Najlah would see to his safety.

They followed the wolves through the snow, moving slowly but steadily. Najlah tasted the air frequently, though it was infuriatingly difficult to taste anything other than snow, ice, and whatever was immediately before him. The weather continued to worsen, and the wolves grew increasingly angry. Najlah growled in surprise when he tasted fear on them as well, underscoring and aggravating the anger. What was alarming them?

The answer came almost before he had finished the thought. He heard the creature before he smelled it: an unearthly roar that seemed to shake the mountains. The ground trembled and even the snow seemed to falter. Fayth swore the most creatively Najlah had ever heard from him. "The bastard made a golem."

The wolves howled, something about it different from their previous howls. Najlah growled, fighting a sudden urge to pounce as that howl washed over him. There must be magic in it that called all who heard it to fight and whetted the blood for battle. Barkus growled and barked at his wolves and the other shifters, ordering them into formation. He turned to Najlah, clearly uncertain what to do with him.

Before Najlah could try to convey he was best left alone, the golem was upon them, a creature of snow and ice and magic, its head and chest smeared with the blood of the unfortunate sacrifice whose spirit had brought it to life.

It was not like Ranteth to use sacrificial magic—but it was also not like him to assassinate the king. Najlah growled pensively as he ducked out of the way and scrambled for a better position from which to fight. More troubling than the sacrifice itself was the power required to create a golem at all. Ranteth was an accomplished mage, but he was not that powerful. What had Ranteth done, what deal had he struck to gain such terrible power?

Najlah batted the distracting questions away and focused on the golem because the endlessly falling snow and biting wind made fighting nearly impossible, even without their foe being so formidable.

After dozens of brutal, bloody, and exhausting attempts to take the golem down, even Najlah gave up. His teeth, claws, spikes, and poison were useless against a creature made of ice and magic, especially in the midst of the blizzard. Fayth called a retreat, and they ran.

But then the snow abruptly turned worse than ever, pouring down relentlessly, drowning them in a world of cold white. He could not even see his own paws. Najlah roared. Damn Restuel's weather!

Something grabbed him, startling him, making him snarl in fury, but he was helpless to fight free of the golem's freezing hold. Damn it, he would not die so pathetically! Not in the cold. Not like a sorry warm-blood. He twisted and lunged at the golem's face as it brought him close to devour, tearing at its eyes, feeling momentary satisfaction when they shattered and fell apart.

The golem stumbled, screamed, and dropped him. Najlah fled blindly, shifting because his short dragon legs were useless in the snow.

And only when he was struck full force by the cold, only as he succumbed to it, did he realize that, somewhere in the scramble to get free, he had lost his warming stone.

Damn it. Killed as easily as a warm-blood after all.

*~*~*

Najlah woke up in a dark so absolute he could not see. There was not even the barest shred of light to allow him use of his night vision. Hissing in irritation, Najlah flicked his tongue and tasted damp rock, traces of earth… and wolf, which meant he was not alone. That was something.

He should be dead. He had lost his warming stone, had felt the cold before he'd passed out. How was he alive?

The air was cold, but he could not actually feel it. No, he felt very warm indeed. Not as hot as he would have liked, but sufficiently warm. He flicked his tongue out again, getting a sense of his surroundings. Moving cautiously forward, he took only a couple of steps before he struck something: warm, solid, covered in fur and cloth. He bent closer, tongue tasting the scents of Barkus, blood, and magic residue. Najlah growled as he carefully checked Barkus over for injuries. He found a scratch on his forehead and meticulously licked the blood away, healing fluid filling his mouth from the glands that held it. He rumbled at the taste of Barkus' blood, the feral edge to it. Shifters were so much better than humans, even if most of them preferred to think of their human form as their true one.

The warmth sustaining him grew to true heat as he continued touching Barkus. So Barkus had done something that kept him warm. An interesting wild magic, but it made sense in such a cold place.

Najlah gave the head wound a last swipe, satisfied it would stay closed and heal well, before he moved on to locating other injuries. There was one long, nasty gash on Barkus' arm that was easily licked clean and sealed up, otherwise there were only minor cuts and bruises.

Exhaustion washed over him; he must not be as recovered from whatever had happened to him as he had first thought. Rumbling, he curled alongside and on top of Barkus and fell immediately back to sleep.

When he woke again, it was to the smell of fire and roasting meat. Growling, Najlah stretched out, feeling much better than he had the first time he'd woken. He glanced toward the fire and saw Barkus, who had been closely watching whatever he was cooking, but looked up as Najlah moved. "You're awake."

Najlah growled at that because he had been awake first.

Barkus chuckled. "Fayth was right: you're actually pretty easy to understand. Then again, I can cheat a bit now. I figured you must have been awake before, given there's not a drop of blood on me and I know I was covered in it when I collapsed. I also woke up covered in dragon, and I am absolutely certain that was not the case when I passed out."

Was he complaining? Najlah gave a short, low, inquisitive growl. Barkus stared at him, mouth turned up ever so slightly at one corner. Najlah stared back—and then tensed when he suddenly felt that Barkus had not minded at all. Najlah hissed and drew back.

"So the bond did fully take," Barkus murmured. "Good. I was worried that, in my battered state, I had done something wrong. It's been a long time since a non-wolf has been brought into the pack bond, and I have never brought anyone into the bond. That duty is generally left to more senior wolves."

Najlah flicked his tongue out and growled.

"Come and eat, and I'll explain. It was the only way I knew to save you, given you were practically white when I found you."

Najlah prowled closer, unable to resist the fire. Rumbling in approval, he thrust his head into the flames and wished only that it was big enough to crawl onto.

He froze when he felt a hand touch his head and looked up to stare at Barkus, face shadowed but eyes still clear, glowing faintly in the dim, flickering light. Barkus was touching his head, even as flames licked at his hand. Najlah knew humans, even shifters, could not touch flames without burning. He did not know of anything that could endure bare flame except dragons and the irritating, but so delightfully crunchy, firebirds.

Barkus laughed briefly and withdrew his hand. His smile was one of pleasure, triumph, and a touch of arrogance that he wore rather well. "Like I said, you were nearly dead when I found you and that stone you wore was gone. I tried to warm you up, but my body heat wasn't enough to sustain you. The only way to save you was to make you part of the pack, let you use the heat of the whole. It seems to be working, but let me know if you get too cold. While the bond is in place, however, be aware that we can share thoughts and emotions to a degree. The longer it's in place, the stronger it grows, the clearer everything we share will become. Hopefully we will find the others soon and one of your friends will better be able to help you."

So he'd been right about the wolves communicating silently back at camp. The Lukos were as beautifully crafted by their Shide as dragons were by Tahjil. Najlah leaned forward over the fire and nudged at Barkus' hand, still hot to the touch.

"Joining the pack means sharing all that you have, but there's never any telling how the sharing will manifest with non-wolves. I do not know anything of dragons, so I hope I have not done you any harm. It is clear you have made us impervious to damage from fire; that will be infinitely useful."

Moving around the fire, Najlah leaned up and nosed Barkus' cheek, flicked it briefly with his tongue, and tried to… think and feel loudly that he was fine and grateful and it was a debt to be repaid.

"You need not shout, dragon," Barkus said with a laugh. "Am I allowed to touch you as I did earlier? Wolves are very free with touching, but I know that's not so with others."

Najlah nipped him lightly on the chin, leaving an indentation of his teeth but not quite drawing blood. Barkus laughed again, and his hands were large, rough, and curious as they smoothed along Najlah's scales, the ridges of his spine.

There was no stench of fear on him, not even the slightest trace. Only the smell of wolf and man, hot blood just beneath the surface, sweat, faint touches of want that were echoed in the strange mental bond. Najlah was not yet certain he liked the connection, but it clearly had its uses.

It was nice not being feared. Fayth had taken months to lose all traces of it, and no one in the palace was comfortable whenever Najlah and Ajith got into an argument. He could not help it that human fights were so very tame and not even half as loud. It was also not his fault that Ajith was a damned cheat and so things got a little messy.

He rumbled and pushed into the touches, enjoying the way Barkus pressed and did not act like Najlah might break. Barkus huffed a laugh, provoking Najlah to nip his jaw again before resting his head on Barkus’ shoulder. It was not something he typically did with strangers, and he sensed the wolf bond was affecting him, but warmth was warmth, and it was heady to be touched without fear or hesitation after so long.

When the touching finally stopped, he growled in dissatisfaction, but withdrew and began to eat the meat that Barkus threw at him. He did not know why it had to be cooked, but food was food and he would take it.

"You don't want to eat these raw. They have a very bitter taste if not cooked. It's a common prank among older children to trick the younger ones into it. Fell for it myself, once. I got my sister back by throwing her in cold water. My mother was not amused with either of us by the end of that day."

Najlah made noises of amusement and called up memories of Ajith pranking him the very same way, tricking him into eating a spotted lizard. The nasty taste had lingered in his mouth for three days. He'd gotten revenge by dyeing Ajith's horns white. That prank had earned him much admiration in their mother's den.

Barkus laughed, loud and long, the sound booming and echoing around the cave they were in. Warm pleasure unfurled in Najlah. Feeling satisfied from making someone laugh was strange but not unwelcome. "I bet you have caused a great many people a great deal of trouble. But come, as surprisingly pleasant as this is, we still have to find our way out of these caves and back to our friends and the hunt for a traitor. Are you sufficiently fed and rested?" He chuckled when Najlah growled. "Then let's see about getting out of these caves. I don't know this particular section, but my nose says wolves have been here before, so there is likely a way out." The scent of magic filled the air, and then Barkus stood before him as an enormous black wolf. He chuffed and rubbed against Najlah's cheek before turning away and, with a commanding bark, vanished into the dark.

Growling, Najlah followed after him, tongue flicking out to see what his eyes could not. Out in the snow, he had been much hindered, but caves… caves he knew. Caves he could handle better than any warm-blood.

When Barkus halted at a cluster of tunnels and gave a low, puzzled whine, Najlah moved past him, tongue flicking out to examine each tunnel, tasting old wolf and faded blood, damp and rock and rot. He tasted a hint of freshness, something living, hot, wet blood. It was barely there, but it was enough. Twisting his neck around, he growled at Barkus before spinning away to prowl into the tunnel, onward through the relentless dark.

The smell of blood grew stronger as they slowly made their way, sharp and bright on Najlah's tongue. His claws clicked on the cave floor, scales scraping as his tail moved sinuously back and forth. He could hear Barkus close behind, smell him, but the lure of fresh blood overpowered all else. Someone was bleeding out and not going to live much longer.

He increased his pace, growling loudly to warn off anyone else who might be there but had gone unnoticed. They spilled into a wide open cavern that hosted a single large orb of magelight. Najlah remembered an old conversation he'd once had with Ranteth, who had tried to explain tame magic to him, but Najlah had rapidly grown bored. It sounded too intricate, too time-consuming, to be worth the trouble even if it could do such things as those balls of light. He'd rather have his well-honed body and wild magic.

There was a figure lying in the middle of the room, bound and gagged, mostly wrapped in a torn, filthy, wet cloak. That cloak was familiar. As Najlah got closer, he both saw and smelled something he did not expect: Ranteth. He let out a roar of fury, spikes coming out of his spine, tips wet with poison, tail lashing and thudding hard enough to echo thunderously whenever it struck the ground.

He prowled toward his prey, snarling and growling, crouching low in preparation of a pounce but was cut off when Barkus stepped between them. Barkus bared his teeth and growled. Najlah snarled in reply, bringing his tail up to strike. Barkus might have his appeal—and Najlah did not want to hurt him—but he would not be denied the chance to avenge family and be rid of the despicable traitor.

Barkus growled again, hackles up, then barked sharply three times, and Najlah could suddenly feel what Barkus was trying to tell him: It was not Lukos or Savages who had injured and bound Ranteth. There was someone else in the caves who had done him harm. If there was one other, there was probably more, as it was never safe to travel through caves alone. Even the dumbest human knew that.

Najlah relaxed with a cranky growl and padded toward Ranteth to investigate more closely. The urge to tear out his throat was strong, but Najlah had resisted greater temptation. It would be sweeter when he was certain it was right. If an unknown party was skulking about, they needed to know who and why before any sort of action was taken.

Instead of killing Ranteth, Najlah nosed at the wound that would kill Ranteth before much longer. Someone had stabbed him with a thin blade, leaving a small but almost always fatal wound. Najlah would not be able to heal such a wound in his current form, unfortunately. The idea of leaving himself vulnerable grated, but the wound was too small to get at with his dragon mouth. Hissing, Najlah shifted to his human form and then bent, closing his mouth over the wound, drinking down the blood that spilled until his healing fluids started to work, staunching the flow of blood and sealing the wound. Pulling back, he licked away the remaining traces of blood on his mouth.

He growled softly while he looked Ranteth over. The growl turned into another hiss when something caught his eye. He sank his hands into Ranteth's dark hair and tugged his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at a dark, intricate mark low at the side of Ranteth's neck, nearly on the back of it.

"That's Gormestia magic," Barkus said, crouching down beside him. "Well, one of their magic marks. Sigils, they call them."

Najlah wrinkled his nose at that. They had to write their magic down?

Barkus smiled fleetingly. "I agree it's stupid. My question, though, is what Gormestia has to do with any of this? Restuel has no quarrel with them, and hasn't since the last war two centuries ago. What would provoke them to assassinate our king and start a war?"

Old anger boiled up inside Najlah as he realized the attempted assassination was part of a larger, more complicated matter. Snarling, he pulled up the memories and shared them with Barkus.

Visitors plagued Tahjil incessantly, everyone wanting to see the demons with their own eyes when all Najlah's people wanted was to be left alone. The bastards from Gormestia had helped themselves to a young, red scale bitch, and when they were done, they'd left her for dead—or so they had thought.

But the red scale lived just long enough to whelp three half-human kits, too weak to survive, and the tragedy spurred her den into a nasty, relentless fervor that had left hundreds of Gormestians and dragons dead. It had not been the first time Gormestia had committed a wrong, but it was by far the greatest of their crimes because women were sacred, and a bitch who had been violated, broken, and ultimately killed, her kits dead alongside her…

Gormestia had asked for help, but not a single dragon had lifted so much as a claw to stop the violence, only to help the slaughter. Najlah had been among the attackers, happy to spill Gormestian blood, devour their organs, and crunch their bones, leave nothing behind that could be used for the burials Gormestians gave their dead. Afterward, the word 'demon' became more prevalent than ever, whispered in fear or screamed as a justification for slaughter.

It was the people of Restuel who had stepped forward to help Tahjil smooth matters over with other countries, help calm the renewed fears of demons. For the sake of peace, Ajith had volunteered to leave home, travel as an ambassador and help show the world that dragons were not monsters. Najlah had refused to let his brother go anywhere without him. Ajith was a horned brute, a den-keeper, protector of the nest, meant to guard the kits and help the women. He wasn't a hunter and fighter like Najlah.

Anger and fear coiled through him at the thought of what might have happened to Ajith if he had not been there, had not called for help when the poison had felled Ajith and the others. Was the assassination attempt really about that terrible tragedy back home? He had thought the matter finished. It made no sense. Why attack Restuel? What did assassinating King Wyst have to do with Gormestia's exacting revenge on Tahjil?

"I see relations with Gormestia are not so peaceful after all. Not all news reaches us here in the Shide, but I feel that matter should have. You are not much for politics, are you, Najlah?"

Najlah gave a short growl.

"Gormestia and Restuel have been allies for a long time—two centuries, as I said. When Gormestia angered Tahjil and got what they deserved, instead of supporting them, Restuel turned on them and supported a bunch of demons. Gormestia took that as great an insult as you took their behavior."

The two did not even compare. Of course Restuel had not sided with Gormestia. If Gormestia had possessed any honor, they would have killed their own people or surrendered them to Tahjil for punishment. Instead they had defended them, acted like they had not committed the greatest of crimes.

"I agree," Barkus replied. "But Gormestia seeks to throw Restuel into upheaval, and I have no doubt now that the ultimate purpose of this plan is to somehow blame your people—perhaps even you and your brother directly—for the assassination. Killing Ranteth here would certainly mean he'd never be able to reveal that he had been cursed. That would also explain the golem, which is something Gormestia mages are good at. They skulk about the parts of the mountains that are not Shide practicing their spells and incantations. Come, we need to get out of here. I'll carry him; you lead us through the caves."

Najlah flicked his tongue out, tasting Barkus' skin briefly before pulling away to sniff out the best direction to take while Barkus got Ranteth settled. Shifting back to his true form, Najlah tasted the air again.

He froze when he smelled people and magic and fire. Before he could tell Barkus, the cave filled with blinding, burning light. Najlah closed his eyes, roaring in rage, spikes re-emerging. If they thought the light would do him harm, they only proved they still knew nothing about dragons. Letting out another roar, Najlah did what he was made to do: hunt, fight, kill.

Something to his left. Najlah whipped his tail around, arcing it up and growling in triumph when it connected and his foe shrieked in pain. He prowled toward the fallen man, tasting the air to examine him. A shifter, but he was already dying of the poison—if the holes Najlah's tail spikes had put in his stomach did not kill him first.

Either would take several minutes. Najlah tore out his throat instead, then turned his attention to the other three, opening his eyes when it seemed there would be no more bursts of light. The remaining attackers were focused on Ranteth and Barkus. He roared again, so loudly the cave shook and some of the hanging rocks high above seemed as though they would come crashing down. Najlah ran at the nearest of the figures, a female who threw some sort of purple-colored spell at him. He had a vague sense of stop, but the spell did not grab hold, simply slid away along his scales. He reached her and sank teeth into her leg, tearing out chunks of flesh and spitting them on the floor. When she collapsed, in too much pain to even scream properly, he closed his teeth over her throat and ended her as quickly as he had the first.

Najlah hissed as something sharp slipped past his scales and sank into flesh. His tail moved, struck, and he then whipped around and butted his head hard into the stupid human's gut, sending the attacker falling down right on Najlah's spikes. Sighing at the irritation, annoyed he had not thought that one through better, Najlah waited until Barkus finished off the remaining threat and then growled impatiently for help.

Barkus took in his dilemma and laughed. With a grunt and a couple of fumbling starts, he finally yanked the body off Najlah's spikes enough that Najlah was able to retract them. "You are just as nasty in a fight as your appearance promised. I am curious how brutal your homeland must be that something as artfully crafted for killing as you exists."

Najlah was not entirely certain how he was meant to take that, but he was a hornless brute and meant to be good at all those things, so he decided to take it as praise and rumbled his thanks.

"I never thought I would meet someone who could rival the Lukos," Barkus added.

That was definitely intended as praise. Najlah rubbed against him, thinking praising thoughts of his own. Barkus was certainly tougher than anyone else he knew. Najlah trusted his battle brothers in a fight, but even they did not compare to the Lukos.

Barkus stroked his head, startling Najlah when he found the spot behind his ears that made Najlah feel like he'd been sitting in a fire bath for hours. He rumbled low in approval. Barkus paused briefly before he resume with a soft laugh. "Not so different from a wolf in the end. Come on, let's get moving. If we fell as far and deep as I fear, we have a great deal of walking to do."

Najlah growled and went off to find a path as he had been doing before they were attacked. He watched impatiently while Barkus went to each of the bodies and collected something, huffing when he finally joined Najlah with Ranteth in tow. "Sorry, I wanted proof that it was Gormestia we fought down here."

Politics. Najlah hissed and pressed on into the tunnel he had chosen.

How long they traveled, he did not know. They moved until exhaustion forced a halt, and then he or Barkus hunted some manner of food and they would rest until they were able to move again. They were so tired and hungry and worn by the end that Najlah was ready to eat the next moving thing he saw, no matter what it might be—even one of those nasty, crawling things that passed for spiders in Restuel. Fah. If it was not big enough to make a meal, it was no spider.

Thinking of food he would never be able to eat again was not going to improve his mood, however, so he tried to focus solely on getting out of the caves. He was just about to let his mood turn completely foul, long past caring, when he smelled sun and snow. Increasing his pace, he led them up a steep tunnel and spilled out into a drift that would have made him miserable at any other time.

"Finally," Barkus said with a groan. He carefully laid Ranteth down on a bit of rock mostly free of snow. "Thank you for leading us out, Naj."

Amused that Barkus was shortening his name the way Fayth was so fond of doing, Najlah rumbled at him and collapsed in the snow to rest a few minutes. He felt the ripple of magic but could not be bothered to open his eyes again. If Barkus wanted to keep moving, then he could drag Najlah right alongside Ranteth.

A sound like nothing he'd ever heard filled the air. He opened his eyes and watched Barkus howl so loud and long the entire mountain seemed to echo the refrain. It was majestic, beautiful, even more impressive than the fighting howl from the golem fight, and nothing at all like the whining, greedy howls of the dogs in the city. Najlah shivered as Barkus did it again. He prowled closer when Barkus did it a third time and flicked his tongue out, tasting Barkus on the wind, rubbed scales against fur as the howling finally died away.

Barkus gave a low, amused growl and nudged and rubbed back. Najlah wondered how far he could be pushed, how much he could bend. He flicked his tongue out again, tasted a faint thread of lust beneath exhaustion and hunger, mingling with the relief of being alive and free of the damnable caves. He nipped at Barkus playfully, hissed when he got a sharp bite in return.

Najlah bit him harder, but before Barkus could retaliate, answering howls filled the air. Barkus howled in reply, calling the Lukos to him. Najlah withdrew, a promise made for later, and went to examine Ranteth, for the first time allowing himself to be relieved and happy that Ranteth was not a traitor after all.

He was just prowling back over to Barkus when an earth-shaking roar filled the sky. Najlah's eyes popped open wide. What was Ajith doing on the mountain? He should still be resting after nearly dying of poison, and even discounting that, Korla was with child. Ajith should be with her! Horned brutes did not leave their bitches unattended. Had Ajith lost his mind? Najlah reared back and roared as loudly as he could in reply—nothing at all like his brother's, but Ajith would hear it.

Another mountain-trembling roar followed, and shortly thereafter, his brother came into view, a great black brute with black and gray wings and two enormous, long, slightly curving horns ending in sharp points jutting from high on either side of his forehead. Ajith landed with a hard thud in the snow, shaking the trees around them so hard, he dislodged the snow covering them. His tongue flicked out, eyes whirling with angry purples and blues. He had barely folded his wings in when he started yelling. "Where in the frozen depths do you think you have been? It's been three days since anyone has heard from you! Korla is frantic, their Majesties have been most anxious, and I have been worried sick, you troublesome little sand grub! I did not let you go up into these mountains so you could get yourself lost!"

"Oh, shut up," Najlah snarled right back, spikes coming out as he got ready to argue in earnest if that was how his stupid, thick-headed brother wanted to be. "I lost my warming stone and woke up in a cave. We have been working our way out ever since. We found Ranteth, whom we think is not a traitor after all. I am also long out of the den, brother, so stop treating me like I am still a kit. Go back to fussing over your bitch and unborn kit and leave me to do the things I am made to do. Honestly, you horned brutes. It's nag and nag and—" He bellowed as Ajith's tail caught him full on the side, sending him deep into a snow drift.

Najlah roared, twisted up, and lunged, claws and spikes out, dodging his brother's arm to land behind him. He immediately turned and launched himself onto Ajith's back, sinking claws in past the heavy scales and growling smugly when Ajith roared in irritation. Craning forward, he bit high on Ajith's neck, right where he knew it would really hurt thanks to a scorpion sting Ajith had taken there as a kit.

Then Ajith did his nasty, evil twist-throw move that Najlah had not been able to comprehend in all his twenty-some years of trying, and Najlah snarled in annoyance as he slammed into a tree. He tumbled into a drift so deep it was thrice his height. Rumbling and growling, he climbed out of it and wiped melting snow from his face with the back of one paw. His tail lashed, striking the tree with heavy thuds, and he braced for the next round as Ajith came at him. "Mush-eating brat."

"By the time I am done with you, mush is all you'll be able to eat."

"Stop being a child, Ajith. I didn't mean to worry you. How was I to know we had been in the caves that long?" Ajith did not reply, simply ran at Najlah with horns down. Najlah managed to get out of the way but only barely. He climbed upon Ajith's back again, mindful of his wings but more than willing to bite and scratch everywhere else. "Kit! Mush-eater! Feather-head, I'll crunch you like I crunch their skulls, though it won't be much of a feast given your head is the emptiest thing in ten nests!"

"Grub. Get down right now, or I'll make you as tailless as you are hornless!" Ajith reached around and managed to grab Najlah. He threw Najlah back in the snow and planted a heavy paw on him. Nasty little cheat. "I may lack brains, but you have all the sense of a corpse-eater and you smell—" He stopped, then narrowed his eyes, growled thoughtfully. "You smell like wolf and lust." He turned his head to stare briefly at Barkus. "Him? You sneer and scoff at every suitable human and shifter in the palace, and you are making offers to a Lukos? Why am I even asking? Of course you would reject a hundred perfectly good offers and rumble at a feral wolf."

Najlah hissed in derision. "Why would I want a soft den dweller?"

"Who are you calling soft?" Ajith demanded, but the words were spoken in drawling rumbles. "Typical hornless, only interested in feeding, fighting, and fucking."

"You got the order wrong," Najlah said with a playful hiss. "Let me up, or my next feast is going to be your foot, and then I'll have to kill you for making me eat something so terrible-tasting."

Ajith snorted but let him up. He bent his ponderous head and nuzzled against Najlah's much smaller frame. "I am glad you are alive and well, little brother. Mother, sister, and Korla would have cried to hear of your death."

"I would never make them cry so," Najlah replied and nipped him affectionately before padding through the snow back to Barkus. He growled at him, butted against his side.

Barkus nipped him much the way Ajith had, and it was nice—so very nice—that he didn’t smell of fear, that he seemed to understand.

The wolves arrived a few minutes later, barking and yipping happily as they attacked Barkus in a chaotic, joyous rush, piling atop him in the snow and taking turns ensuring he was well, silently communicating all that had transpired while they were apart. Najlah caught snatches and hints of it, but it became immediately clear that the thoughts and feelings Barkus had given him had been slowed down, carefully controlled, because he could not entirely follow the crazy, whirling flood of thought and emotion between the seven wolves.

He turned back to Ajith. "Where is Fayth?"

"He was badly wounded by the golem. He's recovering at the castle, along with nearly all of your battle brothers. The others are prowling about for Ranteth. What is it you said about him not being a traitor after all? That would be nice. I was sad that he would have to be killed and eaten."

Najlah explained all that he and Barkus had learned—well, largely surmised—and when he finished, Ajith rumbled in agreement. "So what do we do now?"

"We get everyone home, we wait for Ranteth to heal up well enough to tell us what happened, and then we handle matters diplomatically."

"I think I preferred it when they thought us demons and we were allowed to eat them."

Ajith looked past Najlah, his eyes swirling a smirking yellow. "No, you don't. If you were home, you'd already have been mated to another hunter because Mother would have finally lost all patience with your fussiness and addressed the matter for you."

Najlah hissed and nipped because he really hated when Ajith was right, and he was right all the damned time.

"The wolf is impressive, I'll give you that. I can only imagine how much His Majesty will love you if you somehow manage to get the Lukos to cooperate more often and perhaps act like real citizens of the kingdom."

"I'm not interested in your stupid politics or in helping anyone make nice with anyone else. I want fire—you left that out of your mocking litany: Fire, fucking, fighting, feeding."

"I think the order is still wrong."

"Go eat a spotted lizard."

Ajith's eyes swirled yellow. Najlah hit him and then slithered out of range of retaliation. He prowled back over to the wolves, growing impatiently, eager to be home where he could find food and rest. Shoving through them, he drew up to Barkus and growled loudly.

Barkus nipped at him, and Najlah felt a sense of Yes, home along with a strange sort of longing—something like homesickness but not quite. Like… homesickness for a place never seen. Was that possible?

He growled again, shaking his head, and nipped Barkus in return. He caught a sense of seven days, and then Barkus was surrounded by his fellow wolves once more.

Najlah returned to Ajith and climbed onto his back because he was not walking down the mountain. Ajith looked at him, amusement turning his eyes green, then called a warning. Najlah braced himself, growled for the wolves to back away, and then Ajith launched himself into the air, snow going up in a flurry from the force. When Ajith was certain of his wings, he flew down and gently scooped Ranteth up in his paws. Then they were gone, rushing through the wind and the clouds, finally headed back toward the palace that Najlah had come to regard as home.

*~*~*

Najlah was in his room, curled up in the enormous hearth, when the pack bond at the back of his mind seemed to ripple, stir. He rumbled and resettled himself, but did not move from the warm fire, annoyed that eleven days had passed when he'd been promised seven.

An hour or so later he heard his door open and close but still did not move. The flames were wonderfully hot, and the world beyond was cold and wet and awful.

A soft, inquisitive bark jerked him from his doze, and he lifted his head from the flames to stare at the black wolf that loomed close. Najlah growled and uncoiled then crept out of the flames. He snapped his teeth at Barkus and thumped his tail hard against the stone tiles. Barkus woofed at him, stepping in close enough to nuzzle his cheek.

Najlah rumbled, flicked his tongue out to taste. The knot of dissatisfaction and angry restlessness that had plagued him for days eased as the scent and flavor of Barkus settled over him. Strange to miss so acutely someone who was not family.

Barkus stepped back and shifted. Najlah growled in amusement that he was wearing no clothes when shifter magic was plenty capable of managing them. He hissed and pushed his thoughts to Barkus.

"You know you approve. Come play, dragon."

Najlah replied with a quick, sharp turn, his tail sweeping Barkus' feet out from under him, sending him sprawling backwards onto the soft rug just beyond the stones of the fireplace. Najlah prowled toward him as Barkus started to sit up, shifting smoothly as he reached him. He settled across Barkus' lap, pushing him back down on the rug.

Impressions of heat and hunger filled his mind, coiled through him with a burn even sweeter than that of fire. Barkus' calloused hands smoothed along his skin and scales, curiosity blending into the lust in Najlah's mind. He growled softly and bent down, forked tongue flicking out to taste Barkus' skin. Barkus made a growly noise of his own as he cupped a hand around the back of Najlah's head, pulling him close enough to kiss.

Human tongues felt so strange, shorter and solid, and the teeth were shockingly blunt. One thing to see, another to feel them. No wonder they had to soften and cook all their food—their teeth were useless for real eating. Najlah drew back and put his own teeth to work, dragging them along the smooth, warm skin of Barkus' body, captivated by the contrast to his own scales.

Barkus' fingers pressed hard, nails gliding across the scales, lingering at random points—the curve of his hip, where scales turned to skin across Najlah's stomach, the hard ridges along his spine that did not entirely smooth out in his human form.

Najlah nipped at Barkus' jaw then licked and nipped down his throat before biting his collarbone. Barkus growled at him then moved, and Najlah snarled in surprise as he found himself on the rug instead. He bared his teeth in amusement and pressed his claws into Barkus' shoulders just enough that a bite of pain filtered through the bond.

He was starting to grow rather fond of that bond. Would the whole pack know if they were fucking? Amusement rippled through him at the idea, and Barkus shared it as he confirmed that yes, the pack would likely know. There was very little in the way of secrets in packs.

Najlah yanked Barkus down and gave a kiss that was hard and wet and toothy, sucking on Barkus' bottom lip when it split, the taste of blood sharp and bright in his mouth. He rumbled with pleasure, raked his claws down Barkus' back.

Barkus made a low, rough noise of approval in his ear right before he bit it, making Najlah shudder with surprise. He growled when Barkus did it again, claws pressing even harder, body undulating against Barkus', their hard cocks rubbing together. Barkus moved slowly down his body, rough tongue lapping at his throat, lingering at his collarbone to press biting kisses there. "Do you feel much through the scales?"

Najlah growled, tried to convey that he could. Barkus' grin said he got the message, and he moved to put his mouth to the scales, rough tongue dragging across them in a way that made Najlah shiver again. He'd never been so thoroughly explored before, like he was a treat.

Soft, huffing laughter drifted toward him, and Barkus stared up at him through his lashes, moon-glow eyes shining with want and amusement. Najlah flicked his tongue out playfully and rolled his hips to put Barkus' attention back where it should be.

Barkus' hands landed heavy and warm on his thighs, stroking the scales there before he pushed Najlah's legs farther apart and went back to work with his mouth, nipping and licking at Najlah's abdomen, working lower to nose and lick at the crease of his thigh, breaths deliciously warm against Najlah's skin.

Najlah hissed in protest when Barkus pulled back and rolled forward to sit up, wrap his arms around Barkus' neck, and forced him close enough to feast upon his mouth and rub their bodies together until Barkus' breaths turned heavy and panting and the arms that slid around Najlah's body were so tight it hindered his breathing slightly.

Drawing back, he bit hard at the corner of Barkus' jaw, leaving a bright red mark that would probably bruise, then pulled Barkus' arms free and pushed and tugged until he turned around. Barkus laughed raggedly, but there was satisfaction and eagerness in the bond as he settled himself on his folded arms, ass in the air, exactly as Najlah had wanted.

Rumbling his approval, tongue flicking rapidly, eagerly, Najlah nipped at one firm ass cheek, then the other, before he licked at the crevice with several teasing swipes. When Barkus finally growled at him, impatience filling Najlah's mind, he licked at Barkus' hole, the glands in his mouth secreting healing fluid, warm and slick and good for more than healing wounds. He retracted his claws and wet one finger, pushing it slowly inside Barkus' body, forcing himself to be patient. Barkus was not a dragon, even if he was the closest that Najlah had ever encountered.

He rumbled approvingly when Barkus took his finger easily and quickly worked his way up to pushing three deep inside. A gnawing need for more was shared between them, so bright and clear and overwhelming it was impossible to sort out which thought belonged to whom.

Withdrawing his fingers, Najlah lined up his cock and pushed inside, hands settling on Barkus' hips, gripping them tightly. The air was thick with the smell of lust and Barkus' sweat, the barest hint of his blood, almost intoxicating as it blended with the smell of the fire. Najlah paused for a moment to let Barkus settle, and then began to fuck him. He made himself start out slowly, even carefully, but Barkus snarled, impatience echoing in the bond, and thrust back against him, turning to look over his shoulder with eyes that glowed like a late summer moon. Najlah's claws slipped out just enough to dig into Barkus' skin, and the tang of blood in the air grew sharper. With a pleased growl, Najlah fucked him harder, drove into him, rode him like he would the most eager gold scale hornless.

He loosed one hand to wrap it around Barkus' cock, stroking it hard and fast in time with his thrusts, losing the rhythm just moments before Barkus spilled, hot and wet. Barkus' shout filled the room, and the sound and smell of his satisfaction drove Najlah to a finishing frenzy. He leaned over, fit their bodies together, and with a series of short, sharp thrusts, finally came, growling his pleasure against Barkus' hot, damp skin.

Withdrawing, Najlah let Barkus slump to the floor and turn to lay on his back, then draped over him, enjoying the heat and press of skin and scales. Barkus gave his cheek a lazy lick, hands running smoothly over his body with relaxed, aimless motion. "I apologize for arriving late," he said eventually.

Najlah gave a sleepy rumble, not bothering to open the eyes he had just let fall shut. He stirred slightly, though, as impressions filtered through his mind: fighting, writing that he belatedly realized were the silly words of magic used by Gormestia. Barkus had been in another fight with Gormestians?

"Scouts, looking for the ones we killed in the caves," Barkus elaborated around a wide yawn. "We took care of them, but not without cost, and it took some time to get the wounded to safety. It also took time to arrange for my extended absence and that of the two wolves who accompanied me."

Najlah gave a soft, inquisitive rumble.

"Gormestia is angry with Restuel, and if matters are not resolved diplomatically, it will likely turn into war. The only ways to get from Gormestia to Restuel are by sea or mountain. The Lukos are not strong enough in number to ward off entire armies, though we can certainly put a strain on them. I strongly advised the Shidene Chief that we should consider cooperating with the king, but getting him to agree took a while. It took even longer to convince him to appoint me liaison."

Najlah rumbled at the hints of homesickness that trickled through the bond, nuzzled against Barkus' shoulder. He may not always understand humans, or even other shifters, but there were some things that everyone understood. Restuel had become his home, and he was happy there even with the nasty snow, but part of him would always ache for Tahjil.

"I admit my desire and curiosity for you mostly drove me to volunteer as liaison. I think they only permitted it because they think doing this will finally curb my reckless, impulsive behavior."

Najlah hissed in amusement at the familiar words, which he had heard any number of times from his mother and the den brutes. Caution this, stop and think that. They were not dragons of action but of sitting still. Leave the slow and careful to that type. He was a hornless; his duty was to do what they could not.

Barkus gave a soft chuckle and brushed his lips across Najlah's ear. "Exactly. We are creatures of action, not caution. What do you say we find the comforts of a bed, Naj? I promise I can keep you warm until we are summoned and put to work. I am not eager to be gawked at again, I can tell you that. I don't know how you endure it."

Sitting up and resting on his heels, Najlah growled in amusement. He was long used to being stared at, but it helped that everyone scurried away when he stared back and showed his teeth. Standing and twisting, he padded across the room to the bed in the corner, snarling in surprise when he was tackled from behind. He landed face down in the blankets, a heavy weight climbing on top of him, teeth that were sharper than they had felt before biting the back of his neck.

Instinct made him want to fight, but he ignored it in favor of the lust that sparked so easily back to life. Growling, he let Barkus have his way, curious to see just how much harder Barkus would be able to play.

By the time Barkus pushed inside him, Najlah was in a frenzy, bruised and aching and desperate. He roared his satisfaction into the bedding, claws shredding it, as Barkus began to ride him as hard as Najlah had earlier ridden Barkus. Yes. A Lukos was exactly what he had needed. Barkus was what he needed.

He shuddered as Barkus came, muffling his cry in Najlah's throat, teeth biting down hard; the sharp, sweet pain was all Najlah needed to topple over the edge a second time. They collapsed in a sweaty, panting pile, Najlah growling lazily as Barkus pulled out of him. He settled more comfortably, wrapping around as much of Barkus as he could, relishing the heat and the simple pleasure of Barkus finally being there. He rumbled as the bond conveyed the same from Barkus, closing his eyes to rest for a bit before they continued the fun.

Ajith was the one who eventually came to fetch them, in human form and dressed in court finery that had been carefully tailored to suit the dragon traits he retained: horns and scales and wings. Though he growled sternly, there was no missing his underlying amusement. "Delegates from Gormestia have arrived, and they want to hear for themselves what you two encountered in that cave."

Najlah nuzzled against Barkus, still fast asleep, then crawled out of bed to speak more quietly with Ajith so as not to wake him. "Are they hoping to catch me in a lie? How do they expect to hear me?"

"That is their problem to figure out," Ajith replied, eyes swirling green with amusement. "I said I would fetch you. Consider yourself fetched. Wake him up and make yourselves presentable—and you had better arrive in human form."

Najlah hissed at that because if he was going to be presented for interrogation, then he should be able to do it in his true form. "Are they such cowards they're too scared to look upon me true?"

"You know damn good and well how terrifying you look to those who have never seen you before. I may be the big one with wings, but you've got all the sharp bits. Stop whining like a kit."

"The Lukos weren't scared of me."

Ajith snorted at that, the wings on his back twitching. "Yes, I can smell just how well you and your wolf are getting along. I daresay the whole palace has heard you two."

"Do you want to talk about how loud you and Korla can get?" Najlah shifted back to his true form and padded across the room to the bathing pool in one corner. He dumped himself into it, hissing softly as he came up out of the steaming water. On the bed, Barkus sat up and shook himself. He looked around the room, eyes landing on Ajith first. "Good day. If I am reading Naj correctly, we've been summoned?"

At Ajith's nod, Barkus grunted and climbed out of bed, and Najlah rumbled approval when Barkus settled into the water with him. "All well, Naj?" he asked.

Ajith's wings moved restlessly at his back, the green of his eyes growing brighter, and his growls were more than a little mocking when he asked, "Naj, is it? Shall I tell him the den bitches like to call you Naji?"

"Shall I tell them you let Korla call you 'Aji, Darling'?" Najlah retorted. "Go away already, or I shall never get ready for the stupid meeting. There had better be good food."

"Done fucking for now, ready for feeding? You'd better refrain from fighting."

"Too tired," Najlah replied with lazy hisses.

Ajith's eyes whirled yellow, but he said only, "Be ready in an hour." When Najlah acknowledged the order, Ajith departed.

Knowing fingers stroked over Najlah's smooth head, rubbing hard behind his ears. "So if I followed correctly, we are being summoned to repeat ourselves so Gormestia can call us liars?" He laughed at Najlah's growled reply, but before he could say anything, the door opened again and two familiar Lukos stepped inside, carrying heavy packs.

"Your belongings, sir," the shorter of the two said. Hyde, if Najlah remembered correctly, which by the thoughts filtering through his head he did. "One of the bird shifters said they would carry a message back to the Chief for us."

"Good," Barkus said. "Thank you. That should keep him from nagging me for a couple of days. We are wanted for a meeting with Gormestia. Make certain you are well-dressed. Do not speak unless I or the Regent gives you leave."

"Yes, sir," the wolves chorused, and then the taller one, Kormis, asked, "Shall we return here to walk with you to the meeting?" Barkus nodded, and the wolves bowed and left.

Najlah rumbled inquisitively at him, curious for the first time as to Barkus' place amongst the Lukos. He sent thoughts of himself, his place as one who hunted down food sufficient to feed the bitches and kits and brutes. Hornless brutes also secured the territory and fought off intruders, be they rival dragons or foreigners.

"I'm something like that, yes. I was whelped by the chief of a smaller pack and given to Clan Shidene in a blood-strengthening exchange. The Shidene Chief adopted me, which, among other things, means I have the right to lead a pack myself, but honestly, there are better choices for pack leader. I am good at leading hunts and doing reckless things like making friends with a dragon, getting lost in caves, and being the first Lukos to leave the mountain in a long time." He bent to rub his face against the side of Najlah's head. "We are very similar, you and I, hmm? Come, let us get dressed and show Gormestia why they were fools to ever let the Tahjili and the Lukos meet."

Climbing out of the bath, Najlah shook himself to get rid of the worst of the water before he strode across the room to a smaller, narrow room that held all of his clothes. After the cold, clothes had been the most annoying thing to get used to. There was no fabric that could outdo scales for protection in Tahjil; they only bothered with the barest wraps when they were forced to interact with foreigners.

Unlike Ajith, who seemed to enjoy draping himself in fancy robes and tunics, Najlah wore as little as he could possibly get away with. Court required something fancy, which for him meant one of the shimmery wraps edged with precious stones. He pawed through the thirty or so of them he had somehow acquired and settled on one that seemed to be red-orange-yellow all at once, shifting and shimmering as he walked, and was edged in gold fringe threaded with rubies and amber.

The only other concession Najlah made was to put heavy gold cuffs around his wrists, ankles, and upper arms, with a heavy collar studded with rubies around his throat. Gold and jewels were definitely perks of living in cold climates. Gold was too soft a metal to survive back home, and jewels not something dragons possessed except by way of trade. He had not known so many types of jewels existed until he traveled to Restuel. Rubies he knew, and sapphires, and of course, the stupid opals that foreigners went on and on about. Those he had plenty of and could easily get more—and sell to idiot humans at their high prices and keep himself well-supplied in money and more interesting jewels.

Attaching more rubies and gold cuffs to his pointed ears, he left the dressing room and looked around… and growled appreciatively at Barkus. The clothes were not court fashion, but they were handsome all the same. Well-fitted black pants tucked into high, glossy dark boots; a short gray tunic with a faint shimmer to it, the black laces at the throat pulled just tight enough to be respectable; and over that was a jacket the precise color of the sky in the middle of a cloudless summer day. It sharpened the pale, silver-gold of Barkus' eyes. His long, thick hair had been tied back with a ribbon of the same color, and around his throat was an oval stone that same silver-gold color, hanging from a silver chain.

Najlah growled as he padded over to Barkus, rumbling as he picked up the stone and examined it. "I've never seen this kind before. What is it?"

"Topaz. A Shidene Topaz. There's not many of them, and this is the first time one has been entrusted to me. So get that thieving gleam out of your eye, dragon. If you're good, I'll let you wear it to bed later. I didn't know you had a fondness for jewels. You didn't seem the type to have expensive taste." He stepped back, giving Najlah a slow, heated look up and down. "Though you wear expensive like a prince." Barkus grinned as Najlah filled the bond with amusement. "I did not notice until I came here, with all this daylight about us and no exhaustion crushing me, that your eyes change color with your moods. I feel silly that I did not notice that sooner."

Rumbling, moving in close to touch and pet Barkus because he just could not resist a moment longer, Najlah called up memories of how long it had taken everyone to notice that their eyes changed color. Korla had been the first to figure it out but had taken entirely too much delight in not telling anyone how she knew what the dragons were feeling. Fayth had been the next, and he had shared the knowledge with everyone else.

Unfortunately, so far as Najlah was concerned, since it meant he had to better curb when he was angry or bored with all the people nattering at him.

Barkus leaned in to kiss him, hard and bruising, and it would never stop being thrilling that he was not afraid of all the sharp teeth that could tear him apart with little effort. Drawing back, Barkus said, "You're not the only one people are instantly scared of, Naj. Centuries ago, we were driven into the Shide because we refused to agree that our human shape was the superior, because we refused to be tamed. Human shapes serve their purpose and help to keep the peace…" He bent and kissed Naj hard again, drawing back slowly. "A human form has its benefits, but I am no human."

Growling in agreement, Najlah kissed him one last time, then drew back—right as another knock came at the door. Barkus called out to his men, and they stepped inside, as finally dressed as Barkus though their coats were a slightly darker blue.

"Rank," Barkus said to the question Najlah pushed through the bond. "The paler the jacket, the higher up in the clan. The Chief's jacket is such a pale blue it's practically white. We always fear we'll lose him in the snow." By the door, the other two Lukos made a poor attempt to cover up laughter. Stepping, sweeping an arm toward them, Barkus said, "These two miscreants are my cousins. I do not know what you would consider them in your dens, but they hunt and scout and help look after the pups."

They were young, hornless brutes, probably blooded but recently. Najlah growl-rumbled at them, and they smiled back, clearly feeling his approval. Najlah could also feel a bit of surprise. "You were right. He's taken to the bond like a wolf," said Kormis, the taller and, unless Najlah was mistaken, slightly younger of the two. He smiled when Najlah looked at him. "Am I correct in that your eyes turn pink when you're curious or confused? Outsiders don't usually take to the pack bond. Either they get twitchy about the lack of personal space, or it's just too much and overwhelms them."

From what he knew of humans, that made sense. They liked their secrets and being confusing and not saying what they meant, like bitches in a sly mood, except it was permanent.

The wolves chuckled. Barkus gestured to the door. "Shall we go before someone is sent to drag us to court by our feet?"

Ajith would drag him—he had before. The wolves laughed again as he shared that memory and offered a few of their own in return, leaving them all chuckling and teasing each other as they finally reached the main throne room.

It was not as full as Najlah had expected. On the day he and Ajith had arrived, there had barely been enough room for them to move, so noisy and smelly and ugh. He'd loathed it. Given the matter at hand, which even he could understand, despite his best efforts to avoid politics, he had expected a larger crowd.

His brother stood with Korla before the throne, slightly to the king's left. The contingent from Gormestia, seven in all, stood all the way to the king's right. The entirety of the council, two representatives for each of the thirty provinces of Restuel, as well as perhaps another fifty to sixty nobles, were arranged on either side of the room, along with ambassadors from other countries.

Najlah ignored all the staring, focused on his brother, King Wyst, and Ranteth, who looked pale and shaky and should probably still be in bed.

Reaching the steps that led up to the throne, Najlah and the wolves knelt.

"Rise," Wyst said. "Master Najlah, why am I not surprised you have already stolen my newly-arrived wolves? I heard that you were fond of one of them, but you cannot have all three."

Najlah growled.

"I know very well that when your eyes go yellow you are entirely too pleased with yourself," Wyst replied wryly.

"Majesty…" one of the Gormestia delegates said. "We have come to address a very serious matter."

Wyst glanced at the man, expression going cold. "I'm aware of the matter we are here to discuss and the gravity of it, Prince Tevra. You might recall that it was I whom you tried to assassinate, my friends who nearly died right alongside me, and my soldiers who almost died on that mountain."

"You have no proof it was Gormestia that was responsible for those attacks," Tevra said.

"We survived the attack, Highness," Barkus said. "We are living proof, and I also have these." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small drawstring bag, tossing it to the soldier who stood beside Wyst. "Markers worn by all Gormestia soldiers so their bodies can be identified. My entire Clan, and no doubt your people, can verify there was no way I could have had those before we were attacked in the caves of the Shide. There is also a set taken from the scouts that attacked a few days after we finally got free of the caves. My men here were part of that attack. Is that sufficient proof?"

Tevra's mouth tightened as he stared at the markers Wyst pulled out of the bag and let dangle from his fingers. "Identity markers can be stolen and replaced, or even fabricated. Why should I take the word of the Lukos when everyone knows they'll do anything to get rid of whoever is on their precious mountain. I certainly will not take the word of that." He jabbed a finger at Najlah. "He looks like he wandered out of a harem."

"You will show respect!" Wyst bellowed, so abrupt and loud that the entire Gormestia party jumped, half of them crying out.

Najlah growled in confusion, looking to Barkus. What in the sands was a harem?

Barkus grinned and showed him. Najlah hissed, turned to his brother. "They think I am a horned brute, or some variation of that. Are they seriously so stupid that they think because I am small and covered in jewels and gold that I lounge about the den all day like you lazy oafs?"

"You do lounge about here all day, sand grub,” Ajith replied, giving a low, growling rumble of laughter.

Tevra and his group eyed them warily, then looked to Wyst. "Might I know what they are saying, Your Majesty?"

Wyst shrugged. "I do not understand their language, though Korla tries to teach me. They write things down when I must know them, and Ranteth can communicate via magic when he is at full strength. I admire that they are able to learn our language, even if they are unable to speak it. I'm sure you deserve it, whatever they are saying. Korla?"

"They're amused, Your Majesty." She regarded Tevra with all the imperiousness a duchess could muster. "There are three types of dragons: bitches, horned brutes, and hornless brutes. Bitches are the women, and there are usually only a few to a den—the one who is in charge, her second and third in command, and not more than four young ones who will someday make their own dens. When a bitch gives birth, all the kits are female. They fight for the dominant positions, and then the established bitch selects her favorites from the remaining. Those kits become the horned brutes, like Ajith; they guard the den and tend the females, everything from serving them food, cleaning them, sex… It is the horned brutes who are, more or less, the concubines. Any remaining kits become hornless brutes like Najlah, the fighters and hunters. So far as these two are concerned, you are not insulting them, merely accusing a fighter of being a den-keeper."

"I see," Tevra said, though his jaw was so tightly clenched Najlah did not know how he managed to speak. "Thank you for telling me."

"As to his attire," Wyst added. "You should be grateful he's wearing clothes at all. I'm surprised you are not familiar with Tahjil and its people."

"I am as acquainted with the ways of blood-drinking demons as I want to be."

Najlah hissed at him. "You'd drink blood too if you lived in the sands." Amusement washed over him from Barkus, and he turned, growling inquisitively.

"We can't drink blood the way dragons can," Barkus said. "If we tried, we'd get sick. Fascinating that it offers dragons so much nourishment."

"We have gotten off topic," Ranteth cut in quietly. "I have plenty of books on the matter for you later, Lord Shidene. I'll send them to your… to Lord Najlah's chambers for you."

Wyst grunted. "Back to the matter at hand. These identity tokens prove your men encountered mine. If that is not sufficient proof, we can take you to the caves where their bodies remain, though I do not advise you make such a dangerous journey. Now, Prince Tevra, you are free to examine the tokens here while I watch. One at a time. Lord Shidene, did you compile a list of names from these as requested?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Barkus replied and pulled a packet of papers from his jacket. When Wyst gestured, he held it out to Tevra.

"Highness, that is every name that is on these tokens. Look them over, conduct your own inquiries, and ascertain for yourself whether or not they are guilty as we say. You already have our written reports on this matter. I will give you a month here, as my guest, to investigate the matter. When it's settled to your satisfaction we will resume this discussion. Have you any questions for Lords Shidene or Najlah?"

Tevra shook his head, clenching the papers so tightly they crumpled in his fist. "No, Your Majesty."

"Then I believe this meeting is adjourned. Lord Najlah, Lord Shidene, remain please." He turned away as one of his secretaries came up to murmur in his ear and offer papers. "I'll be right back." Standing, Wyst motioned for the secretary to follow him through a door behind the throne room, his two bodyguards close behind.

Najlah huffed but remained where he was because ignoring the order would not be worth the resulting hassle.

Barkus turned to Korla. "You understand Tahjili? That's impressive. I am fortunate to have the bond, because I do not think I would learn it well."

Korla smiled. "I was convinced it was impossible when I first started learning, but a language is a language and only takes patience and hard work. The hardest part is that they speak extremely fast."

Najlah hissed at her. "You make it sound like you speak slowly, which is not true, dear sister."

She laughed. "At least I don't speak as fast as possible on purpose simply to be difficult, Naji."

"Naji?" Barkus repeated, grinning. "Even I can tell that's meant to be cute." He laughed harder when Najlah growled at him. "So is your name actually Najlah, or is that simply the closest we can come?"

Conveying it was correct as far as human vocals could manage, Najlah replied, "Najlah."

Barkus tilted his head, then repeated in wolfish growls, "Naajjjla." He shook his head. "That will take practice. Is that your entire name?"

Najlah shook his head. Back home he was Najlah of Rejmarah's Den, and also known as Najlah of the Bones. He offered up memories of home to Barkus and the other wolves, showing them the place where he had lived. The color of a dragon's scales denoted where he was from in Tahjil. Black-scaled dragons lived right in the midst of the volcanoes at the center of Tahjil, and they were the deadliest of all dragons. Tahjil was simply 'Mother Fire,' and the volcanoes were called Tahjali, the Fire Daughters. The part where he lived was called the Heart Bones, Tahnak, a collection of rock and black sand that stood as a border between the volcanoes and the rest of Tahjil.

Almost as one, the wolves silently asked if his name meant anything. Najlah playfully bared his teeth. Don't all names mean something? What do yours mean?

Barkus returned the toothy smile. "Names are names, I know that. But my name more or less means 'Cry of the Sky Mountain'. Shide technically means 'sky', and Shidene is 'sky mountain'. Barkus means 'harsh cry'."

Najlah hissed in amusement. My name technically translates as 'hot ash'. My mother likes to say it's because I'm very much like ash: useful and irritating all at once." He flicked his tongue out. Ajith's name means 'volcanic glass' but there is a different way you say it that I can't remember. He huffed and growled in annoyance and looked to Korla. "How do you say it?"

"Obsidian," Korla replied and tapped the chain of the necklace she wore, a heavy black pendant that gleamed in the light, overlaid with gold roses and vines.

Wyst chuckled, drawing their attention. "I am sorry for stepping away, there was a small emergency to deal with. Learning more about dragons, Lord Shidene? "

"Trying, Your Majesty."

"Pardon, Majesty," Korla said. "I did not mean to linger."

"No worries, my dear." Wyst rose and walked down the steps to join them, his bodyguards close behind but relaxed. "It does no harm for you to hear what I wanted to say to Najlah and Lord Shidene." He turned to them. "Be on your guard, I do not like the look of that group. Sad to say the only one I trust right now is Prince Tevra. He is obnoxious and loud, but he does not strike me as a schemer. The others, however, especially that little one with the sharp green eyes—they are up to something, or I'll eat my boots. Stay in your rooms, and if you must leave them, be sure to stay as far from the Gormestians as possible. If they are going to try something, we should at least make it difficult for them."

"Yes, Majesty," Korla and the wolves chorused while Ajith and Najlah growled the same.

Dismissed, Najlah left the throne room quickly, pleased that Barkus stayed with him.

What shall we do now? Barkus asked.

Najlah halted mid-step and turned sharply around, grunting when Barkus ran into him. When did we start doing this?

Grinning, Barkus nipped his nose. Back in court. You've settled fully into the pack bond. Chief told me to break it if you wanted, but that I was otherwise allowed to leave it in place, as it seemed useful to have a dragon in our midst. At some point, though, you will have to come meet the pack. He nipped Najlah's nose again. In the summer, though, when pack lands will be free of snow.

Snow. Najlah growled and hissed.

"Oh, purple eyes mean displeasure."

Rolling his eyes, Najlah grabbed the sides of Barkus' face and leaned in to bite at his lips, drawing a bit of blood, before giving him a long, hard kiss that was enthusiastically returned.

"Not in the hallway!" Ajith snapped.

Drawing back, Najlah looked past Barkus' shoulder and snarled, "Go be irritating somewhere else, you hypocritical rock." He grabbed Barkus' arm and dragged him away before Ajith started talking again, ignoring the reprimanding growls that chased them.

When they reached his room, Najlah immediately discarded his clothes and jewelry, leaving it all in a heap by the bed before crawling into it. He rumbled in approval that someone had warmed the bedding. A moment later Barkus slid in behind him, wrapped around him. Najlah turned to do some wrapping of his own, loving the weight and warmth of being tangled up with Barkus. It was not the same as lying in a fire or enjoying the heat of the rocks back home, but the difference was a good one.

Though he still suspected his new fondness for being clingy had something to do with the Lukos.

Barkus' amusement rippled through his mind. "That is definitely a wolf thing," he mumbled sleepily against Najlah's skin.

Growling low, shifting a bit to settle more comfortably, Najlah sank into warmth and sleep.

When he woke later, it was dark and quiet, save for the warm glow and snap-crack of the fire. So what had woken him? Najlah flicked his tongue and growled when he could just barely taste blood on the air. That was no minor wound, either, not if he could smell it so sharply from a distance.

He hissed as he shifted and slithered from the bed.

"What—" Barkus broke off and sat up. "Damn." Throwing back the blankets, he climbed out of bed and shifted. Should I have Kormis and Hyde come to us?"

"Send them to protect Wyst and Ranteth."

"Not your brother?"

Najlah hissed and growled with amusement. Oh, he hoped somebody attempted to hurt Ajith, who was still angry that he had been struck down by poison, who had a wife due to give birth in a few more months. There were reasons that horned brutes were responsible for the immediate protection of the den, and nothing was more dangerous that a brute protecting a pregnant bitch.

Barkus gave a soft woof, then followed after him as Najlah darted off, following the scent of blood through the palace… and right up to the door of a room that smelled like Prince Tevra, sour-sweet like smoke from green wood. He grabbed the handle, snarling when it proved to be locked. Moving back a little ways, he turned and whipped his tail, bringing it down hard. Wood splintered, metal clanging as the handle struck the floor.

Shoving the door open, Najlah prowled inside, tail swinging back and forth, claws clicking on the hard tile floor. The smell of blood was sharp and bright, fresh and appetite-whetting. He followed it to the bed, climbed up on it, and hissed loudly at what he saw: Prince Tevra, brutally cut up, blood soaking the sheets all around him.

He was just barely breathing. Impressive that he was still alive after such a vicious attack. Prince Tevra was stronger than he looked, remarkably tenacious for a human. Najlah surged in, rapidly treating every wound with healing fluid just enough to close each one so he could move on to stabilize the next. He needs a healer. I cannot replace all the blood he has lost.

Giving a sharp bark in reply, Barkus ran off.

Najlah poured all his energy into healing Tevra's wounds, even when it began to tire him out, not stopping until the smell of fresh-flowing blood ceased. He sniffed at every wound anyway, licking away drying blood, secreting more fluid where the healing seemed too thin.

He snarled as light poured abruptly into the room, sharp and bright and irritating. Closing his eyes, Najlah drew away from Tevra and crawled down to the floor.

"Sorry," Ranteth said. "The room lights have been lit now, you should be fine."

Snorting, Najlah slowly opened his eyes again and took in Ranteth, Ajith, and Barkus.

Ranteth looked at Tevra, still and pale in his blood-soaked bed. "What happened?"

Someone attacked Prince Tevra, Najlah said to Barkus. I think they wanted to make it look like I did it, the way he was crudely cut up, with some sort of rough-edged blade. As though a dragon would kill so poorly and waste good blood. His tongue flicked out. Very good blood, for a human.

Barkus gave him a fleeting amused look, then turned to Ranteth and repeated all Najlah had said. "They must have thought Prince Tevra was dead, or would be soon. But no one else has encountered—" He broke off, and Najlah felt anger and pain and help pour through the bond.

Belting out a roar, Najlah ran off through the halls of the palace, Barkus at his side. They burst through the open door of the king's chambers and saw Kormis bleeding and battered, but still facing down the three Gormestians who remained standing. Two others lay dead, next to Wyst's bodyguards, who unfortunately seemed to have died stopping them.

Najlah snarled and threw himself at the remaining assailants, spikes coming out, tail swinging, fury driving every movement.

The first attacker took Najlah's tail in the face. The second he gutted. The third he let live for questioning, but Najlah made certain he would not walk again. Ignoring the screaming and sobbing, Najlah prowled in close to the fallen man and nosed at his face, tasting his sweat and blood. Growling softly, he slammed the man's head into the floor, cutting off his pitiful noises.

Snarling and hissing, he padded over to where Wyst was tucked into a corner being protected by Kormis. Is His Majesty well?

Yes.

Najlah growled in approval and bid Kormis come to him, leave Barkus to guard Wyst. Using what remained of his healing fluid, Najlah repaired the worst of the damage Kormis had taken. He rumble-growled with amusement at the awe and envy that filtered through the bond. In Tahjil, there are creatures with venom that counters the healing, so if you are not careful it will only make matters worse. Mostly we use it for sealing wounds before sand and other irritants can get into them since that will kill a dragon faster than anything. He drew back, sniffing and nudging until he was content Kormis was healed, then withdrew and prowled over to Wyst.

"Thank you, all of you," Wyst said, looking first at Kormis, then Najlah and Barkus. "What in the name of the gods is going on?"

Barkus shifted, and Najlah growled, nudging at his bare thigh. Rolling his eyes, Wyst jerked a head to the wardrobe in the corner. Laughing, Barkus went and pulled out a robe. Shrugging into it and belting it shut, he returned to the group and explained all that had transpired since he and Najlah had woken up to the smell of blood.

He was just finishing the story when the others arrived, accompanied by Fayth and two other Savages. Najlah growled at them in greeting, and they cast him brief smiles before they latched onto the man he'd left alive. Wyst folded his arm across his chest and glared at the man as he was hauled up, held firmly between the shifters, pale and trembling, smelling sharply of pain and fear. "Tell me your orders," Wyst said. "Otherwise I am more than content to let you die slowly over the course of many days."

Looking as though he was going to be ill, the man nevertheless admitted the whole of the plan between sobs: frame the dragons for the murder of Prince Tevra and King Wyst, ensure they were regarded as uncontrollable demons. Gormestia and Restuel would have been allies again, the dragons their mutual enemy.

"Yet you arranged no clear motive for all these murders?" Wyst asked when the man finally fell silent.

"Motives are easily manufactured," the man said dully.

Wyst's mouth twisted. He jerked his head. "Take him away, treat his wounds. We may yet need him. Someone take care of these bodies and get servants to prepare a new room for me. The rest of you can go, and we will talk in the morning."

Najlah nudged his hand, then slipped away. His part in the matter was over, best that he got out of the way.

He had barely reached his room again when he was tackled. Snarling, he turned around, shifted forms, dragged his sharp claws down Barkus' back, and held him close as they rutted together, hasty and sloppy, dulling the sharp edge of the restlessness that always followed battle. It took only moments to find release, and Barkus followed him a few minutes later, their seed a warm, sticky mess on their skin.

Shoving Barkus off, Najlah used the hastily discarded robe nearby to wipe the worst of the mess away because it was always much more difficult to scrub off once it had dried.

Barkus dragged him back into bed, splayed him out, and explored every bit of his body with maddening thoroughness, his tongue rough against Najlah's vulnerable skin, scraping pleasantly over his scales, refusing to do anything more until Najlah was snarling and yowling, claws shredding the bedding, and Barkus' skin was scored with countless angry red marks.

Only then, his hot, smug satisfaction heavy in the bond, did Barkus spread Najlah open and fuck him until he screamed.

Lethargy rushed over Najlah as he came down, and he was barely awake when Barkus pulled out of him and pressed up close behind. Rumbling softly, Najlah sank into sleep.

He jerked awake when someone pounded on the door, irritated by the noise and the sun and the way people kept waking him up. Roaring at the door, he grumpily slid from bed as a servant came in and bowed. "Lord Najlah, Prince Tevra humbly requests an audience whenever you are inclined to see him. His Majesty said I should come wake you."

Najlah growled low and flicked his tail, dismissing her, and dumped himself into his bath. His temper was somewhat mollified when Barkus joined him, and Najlah had a chance to exact revenge for the previous night.

Sated and clean, if not as rested as he would have liked, he tied a dark purple wrap around his hips and, with Barkus dressed smartly in black and gray beside him, went to see what in the blazing sands Prince Tevra wanted.

Guards stood outside Tevra's door, and they hailed Najlah when they saw him.

People really like you. My impression from your thoughts was that they were all scared of you, or at best regarded you as too strange and avoided you… but they all seem to genuinely like you.

If they liked me they would not be so skittish.

Nervous isn't necessarily skittish. I think they're awed, not afraid.

Whatever, I don't care. Najlah growled low at the guards as they passed, not certain what to make of it when they smiled.

He forgot about it when he saw Tevra, still pale and fragile-looking but stubbornly sitting up in his bed. Najlah had managed to heal his wounds, but he'd worked too hard and fast to make certain they all closed up neatly, which meant his chest, arms, throat, and even his face were covered in scars. Most of the injuries Najlah understood, but the only reason to purposely hurt someone's face was to be cruel. "Lord Najlah, I appreciate you indulging me. I am sorry I could not come to see you."

Najlah growled quietly as he approached the bed, Barkus standing just behind him.

"Your translator?" Tevra asked with a tired smile. Najlah nodded. "I wanted to say thank you. No one was more surprised than I that my own people attacked me in my bed and nearly succeeded in murdering me." He closed his eyes, skin leeching of what little color it had regained. "Apparently, to frame you." He opened his eyes, mouth twisting with bitterness. "My father ordered me murdered—brutally murdered—to frame two dragons and topple a kingdom. All because of… something that I thought we did not do, but which I feel now we most certainly did. And you were the one who saved me, despite the way I treated you in court yesterday."

Shaking his head, Najlah growled and hissed, "You acted as a hornless brute should. I took no offense."

Barkus made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a cut-off laugh. Najlah eyed him as Barkus stepped up beside him, but Barkus kept his attention on Tevra. "Highness, he says he never took offense. You were doing what you thought best. The matter was not personal and so he did not take it that way."

Najlah hissed at him.

"Dragon—" Barkus broke off when Najlah cut him off with another hiss. Turning back to Tevra he said, "Strictly speaking, he says you behaved like a hornless brute—like him."

Tevra smiled faintly. "I think I take the meaning. Still, no one would have blamed him for letting me bleed out. I wanted to extend my thanks and say that I am in your debt."

"Life saving does not accrue debts. Personal strife is put aside when the sands threaten all."

"He says no debt is owed…" Barkus frowned. "Are you making this difficult on purpose?"

Najlah rumbled at him.

Sighing, Barkus said, "No debt is owed because the matter threatened everyone, and so personal grievances—had there been any—are set aside."

"All the same, if there is anything I can ever do, you've only to ask," Tevra said firmly.

Najlah growled, dropping the matter. He was more interested in what would become of Tevra.

"If Your Highness does not mind the impertinence, Lord Najlah is curious what you mean to do when you are well again."

Najlah filled the bond with his amusement. Barkus must have been reprimanded or threatened before he left the Shide because he had not been anywhere near so polite or careful of his words there. Barkus' answer was a sharp, wry affirmative, and Najlah bared his teeth in silent laughter.

Tevra looked between them, faint smile back on his face, but something like longing or envy tinging it. "I'm not sure, honestly. I'll be busy for a little while helping King Wyst contend with my father. Perhaps by the time that matter is concluded I will have figured it out. Thank you for asking."

Humans were strange, thanking people for their curiosity. Najlah stared at Tevra, something nagging, but he could not figure out what.

Barkus cast him a look, a strong sense of you are ridiculous and I find you funny coming through the bond. Najlah returned that sentiment with a promise to bite him, hard, and it would not be the kind of bite that affected his cock in a good way.

Snorting, Barkus once more turned back to Najlah. "His lordship says if you would like company at any time, he is happy to come visit."

Pleased surprise filled Tevra's face. "I would enjoy that, if you do not mind. We started poorly, and that is entirely my fault, but I would like to make reparations."

"He meant it when he said he holds no grudges, Highness. We'll return for lunch if you are not otherwise occupied. For now, I think you had better get more rest before your healer throttles all of us for over-exerting you."

Najlah growled a farewell, and even remembered to bow, before he followed Barkus from the room. Could he go back to bed as well? He was tired of people waking him up before he wanted to be woken.

"Eventually, maybe," Barkus said with a grin. "But first we should probably go speak with your brother, see what has happened since last night and what decisions have been made."

Politics. Najlah hissed but led the way through the palace to the dining room where Ajith liked to eat his breakfast.

Ajith hissed-growled in greeting as they walked in. "The grub is still awake. I'm impressed."

"Be quiet, layabout," Najlah replied, dropping into the seat across from him and helping himself to Ajith's food: platters of freshly butchered meat and the sour fruits they'd both become fond of since arriving. They were always looked at strangely for eating the fruits raw, peel and all, but Najlah was firmly of the opinion that humans ate much stranger. Cooked meat was so flavorless, and they had to further ruin it by piling on herbs.

Barkus' fond amusement drifted through the bond. Cooked meat is not that evil, and proper seasoning enhances. I think I'm afraid of what you would attempt to feed me should I ever visit Tahjil.

Najlah growled around the piece of meat he was eating, sending Barkus images of fire birds, rock spiders, sand cats, and lava wyrms. Those were his favorites, but there was also fish when he could be bothered and other animals further out in the desert where it was not as brutal as right in the midst of the volcanoes.

"Fascinating," Barkus said. "It's so very opposite the Shide."

Nasty snow.

"Why are you bothering me and stealing all my food?" Ajith said. "I was hoping for a quiet meal before we started forming plans against Gormestia."

"What are you planning to do with them? With Tevra?"

Ajith paused in taking a bite of something the servants called beef. "Tevra?" His eyes whirled green and pink. "Why are you asking about a human? A human from the country that hurt me and the few others around this place you call family? An ordinary human with nothing but magic to his name."

"He survived that attack. Most humans die when they lose that much blood, get stabbed that many times."

"You're making friends, how amusing."

Najlah snarled at Ajith and threw a scrap of meat at him.

Ajith jerked forward, caught the scrap neatly in his teeth, and chewed it quickly down. "Behave. As to your new little human, he has already given us some useful information. That one is very dragon in his ruthlessness, I will grant that. He was betrayed and now considers his family to be nothing more than enemies. With his help, we should be able to reduce Gormestia to bone fragments. Figuratively—get that gleam out of your eye."

"I still owe them. One pathetic little encounter in a cave is not enough to settle the matter. I want to break them."

"Well, the matter is far from over. You may yet get your chance. For the time being, occupy yourself keeping Prince Tevra safe. Now that he has turned against Gormestia, they will not hesitate to try killing him again. Don't let that happen."

Najlah growled. "One of these days you will give me something difficult to do. Fine. But if I have to kit-watch like a useless brute, then I want compensation."

"Stop cadging for diamonds," Ajith said dismissively. "Now go away so I can finish my food in peace."

Throwing a few more scraps of meat, Najlah fled before Ajith could retaliate, growling and rumbling at Barkus's amusement. "You two remind me of home. Dragons are much more pack-like than I had ever heard."

Najlah hissed. Pack. Den. Same thing, more or less. You were dismissive that we could be such when we first met.

We do not think highly of those who live beyond the Shide. There are many terrible stories of what these people did to the Lukos that drove us into the Shide. That is why it took so long to convince my pack to let me come here. It's hard to believe that the hate is gone. But there is you and Ajith, and you're both so obviously happy here. If they can come to like demons, there surely is a chance for the Shide to be accepted.

If anyone here takes issue, I will swiftly correct them. Najlah growled and hissed to emphasize his words. The stupid snow is still outside, but it's not as terrible as usual. We could go into the city, find some proper food before we are stuck kit-watching Tevra.

Barkus smiled. That sounds fun. And I'm touched you would offer since I think it means you have to put on more clothing. Also I do not think you are fooling anyone. Your eyes have been faintly pink since you saved him last night. You're as curious about him as you were about me. I don't think you've been given protection duties just because you're sharp and pointy.

Snarling and grumbling, refusing to acknowledge the words, Najlah nipped Barkus's chin before leading the way back to his room.

Visit the city, perhaps buy something for Fayth to cheer him while he was recovering. He could go to the jewelry shop as well. Perhaps he should find something for Tevra, too, so the kit-watching was not completely tiresome. How did one kit-watch a prince?

"I'm sure we'll think of something," Barkus said, amusement, fondness, and a hint of lust trickling through the bond.

What provoked the lust, exactly, Najlah didn't know, but he was more than happy to delay their trip to the city to act on it.

And by the time they finally did head out, the snow had stopped falling.

Fin

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About the Author

Megan is a long time resident of LGBTQ fiction, and keeps herself busy reading, writing, and publishing it. She is often accused of fluff and nonsense. When she's not involved in writing, she likes to cook, harass her cats, or watch movies. She loves to hear from readers, and can be found all over the internet.

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Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Title Page

Book Details

Lukos Heat

About the Author