Chapter 1
The bushes rustled.
I breathed in and held it, crouching low. The notched arrow rested against the bowstring, my grip steady as I focused on the thick underbrush thirty feet away.
Wind swept through the dense forest and across the clearing I’d slipped into. Long green grass tickled my bare thighs and arms. The fur covering my lower half had shifted, but I didn’t dare move it back into place. Not that I cared much when no one was around. I was far more concerned with announcing my presence to the rabbit that had just poked its head from a bramble bush.
I drew the string tighter.
Then I let go.
The arrow flew true.
Whoosh.
It struck its mark.
The rabbit was flung backward into the brush, disappearing from sight. A soft squeak reached my ears.
I winced and lowered my bow.
Sorry, little one.
I already had a belt full of dead rabbits, but I’d felt a pang each time I’d ended another life. I had every right to hunt on the mountain, to take the creatures I found here. Still, Maelvyr’s words rang through my mind like the echo of a bell I couldn’t ignore.
‘No life is lesser than another. Respect all death.’
“I will,” I muttered. “Stop berating me.”
I straightened slowly, letting my furs settle softly against my skin, and glanced around the glade.
Nothing.
Not a soul.
Only the tiny ants scurrying beneath my boots, insects crawling freely along sticks and blades of grass, and a lone snake slithering somewhere to my left, moving away from me.
Even without shifting into my animal form, my hearing was better than most. My sense of smell was, too.
A sharp scent carried on the wind.
Rain was coming.
I hurried to collect the rabbit and tied it with the others, not interested in being caught in a storm and spending the night outdoors. The furry bodies swayed from my belt as I began the long trek home.
There was no trail for my feet to follow up the mountain. I made my own, weaving between trees, bushes, and rocky crags, my bright red braid slapping against my back with every sure stride.
The peaks of Nelthar were usually covered in a sheet of snow, except during these summer moon cycles, when warmth and dew crept up from the valley below. The change transformed the mountain. Grass turned a brilliant green, while the trees burst into dazzling shades of watery purple, burnt orange, deep red darker than my hair, and muted yellow that brightened whenever the sun struck them just right.
“I walk in the dragon’s shadow,” I sang as I climbed, my legs burning beneath me.
“Under his protection, my children laugh, my lover dances. Keep us safe, our lord, our saviour. Beast of scale—”
My voice cracked.
I kept singing until my throat grew sore. Then I walked in silence, all the way to the summit, where he waited.
The ancient halls carved into the black stone of the mountain summit were cold despite the warmth outside. Moisture clung to the stone beneath my boots, each step echoing through the cavernous halls.
I yearned for a warm bath, to wash the muck from my skin, but I didn’t dare announce my arrival before reaching Maelvyr.
Down a long staircase the colour of obsidian, I found his chamber.
Hundreds of torches flickered along the walls, enough to light the way for an army. Raw, craggy stone rose higher than the tallest tree, higher than even a sun-loving bird could fly without scorching its feathers to ash.
A great opening cut through the rock above, leading into darkness.
Dark water flanked the narrow stone walkway that led toward a platform. At its centre stood an altar carved from black stone. It radiated power. I could almost smell it. The air around it sizzled.
I approached, my boots echoing softly against the stone.
When I reached the altar, I hesitated before placing my hand against its cold surface.
Electricity shot through my fingers and raced to my elbow.
I yanked my hand back, cradling it against my chest.
Silence followed.
Then—
Girl.
The word boomed inside my mind.
I’m here, I answered wordlessly. Do I have to wait for you? I’m tired.
A snort.
From somewhere above me, within the dark opening, sharp, thunderous thuds erupted.
They echoed against the stone like the chorus of a song whose words I didn’t know, but whose melody was so familiar I could have hummed along.
The beat of wings.
They grew closer.
Louder.
Until I had to fight the urge to cover my ears.
Then I saw him.
Gigantic.
Serpentine.
A long snout lined with teeth large enough to gobble up entire villages in a single bite. Wings stretched wider than a mountain peak, their vast shadows swallowing the ground beneath them.
Sharp scales caught the flickering torchlight, glinting mesmerizingly as colours rippled across his body—deep red bleeding into brilliant blue, shifting through shades between them.
As though the colours had been painted onto each individual scale.
They brightened.
Dimmed.
Changed.
As though he could alter his colour with nothing more than a thought.
Or an emotion.
I’d seen him angry.
He’d been bright red then.
Terrifying.
He landed in the water.
It surged outward, splashing over the platform and soaking the tips of my boots and my thighs.
“You’ve been fruitful?”
Maelvyr’s deep voice shook the world when he spoke. As it rumbled over me, it lodged in my heart and made it beat faster, like a drum.
“Yes.”
I lifted one of the rabbits hanging from my belt and gave it a little shake.
“I should be fine for a while. No going hungry for this girl.”
His enormous tail swished through the water. He looked away, his yellow eyes narrowing into slits.
“Good.”
“Why did you need me to—”
His head snapped back toward me.
A plume of smoke puffed from his nostrils.
“Girl.”
His warning to not ask questions didn’t go unnoticed. Neither did the sudden sharpness in his tone.
But I wasn’t known for my carefulness.
Quite the opposite, really.
I was addicted to curiosity.
My many books would give that away, as would my unsanctioned trips to the village in the valley. I never went inside, of course. I simply watched from afar, hidden in a tree at the edge of town.
“You’ve just never had me stock up like this before. Is the weather going to take a turn?”
We’d had terrible snowstorms before and made it through them. Maelvyr would hunt for me when I couldn’t.
But maybe this would make history.
“I have smelt change,” he said.
I frowned.
His wings unfurled, disturbing the water around him. A breeze carrying the scent of nature and power found me, rustling my hair and furs.
I listened with a heavy heart.
I wasn’t sure why.
Only that his tone was grim, and it frightened me.
“They used to worship me…”
The altar I stood before hadn’t been used in centuries, or so I’d been told.
Humans used to leave Maelvyr offerings in exchange for his protection. They hadn’t done so in all the time I’d been here, since I’d been a young girl without memories.
I remembered being raised by men and women in white in these cold halls.
But they’d been gone for a long, long time.
I’d always wondered why it had changed. Why were we alone now?
Maelvyr never said more than, Humans are fickle creatures.
“Their love has shifted into something darker since the pestilence began to take them.”
The pestilence was a sickness I’d been told was killing humans in droves.
“They blame me.”
Anger rushed through me like fire.
Alongside it came a sharp stab of betrayal.
I’d watched the villagers live their lives for hours and hours from my hiding place at the edge of town.
The woman who ran the bakery, who kneaded bread dough in the early hours of the morning while using a wooden spoon to keep her young son from diving into the flour.
The blacksmith, hammering molten metal and shaping it to his will.
The drunkard who shouted nonsense at the sky.
The gaggle of red-cheeked children who chased stray cats through the streets, their laughter following them wherever they went.
I watched them.
I listened to them.
I knew their routines better than they could possibly know mine.
How could they?
How could they blame him?
“What!? You’ve done nothing!”
He snorted.
“They don’t need a reason. Just someone to blame.”
“It’s their fault!” I shook my head. “They live in mud and dirt. Horses shit in their streets. Their houses are so close together, one cough and they’re all sick!”
Maelvyr’s yellow eyes narrowed.
Crap.
Silence stretched between us.
“I…”
My voice betrayed me, shaking.
“I only went for a peek…”
“Vaela!”
His wings beat hard.
His scales flashed a dark, furious red.
I fought to remain standing, grabbing the edge of the altar with a soft cry.
“You know the rules!”
His voice boomed like a gong, and I squeezed my eyes shut against it.
“No leaving the mountain!”
“I know! I’m sorry!”
“You aren’t to leave again.”
His voice softened. Steady. Certain. There was no room for argument.
My eyes flew open.
“No. I have to leave. I’ll go mad here.”
His yellow eyes stared hard into mine, pinning me in place like an arrow.
“Once you can follow rules, you may have your freedom.”
Tears wet my eyes. “Maelvyr…”
He moved closer.
More dark water splashed across my boots and legs. I ignored it and walked to the edge of the platform.
Inclining his head, he allowed me to place my palm against his snout. The scales beneath my hand turned blue.
“I am keeping you safe,” he said.
“I know.”
“Trust me, girl.”
“I do.”
I wanted to scream at him.
I wanted to tell him I couldn’t stay here forever, trapped on this mountain beneath his watchful gaze.
Instead, I sighed and rested my cheek against his snout.
He nuzzled me gently.
“There is talk of raiding the summit.”
He kept his voice low, though even this close, the rumble of it lanced through my heart.
I let out a shaky breath.
“Humans? They hate you that much?”
“I haven’t the power to turn away sickness.”
“But they believe you do.”
“Belief becomes truth easily.”
“If they do come…”
I smiled softly, despite the fear nagging at me. A fear I couldn’t quite place.
They were just humans.
“You can eat them.”
I felt his rumbling laugh vibrate through his snout beneath my cheek.
