They glared at each other. Tyrez was reluctant to admit his brother might be right to worry.
Razir waved his hands in the air. “Dragons don’t live with nonDragons. So who knows what might happen.”
“Okay, so we won’t share a bathroom,” Tyrez stated. “Happy?”
“No.” Razir glowered at him. “Because you know the penalty if you screw up.”
Tyrez’s gut twisted. In the Emperor’s long lifetime, no Dragon had ever crossed the line Razir was so worried about. “Look, stop worrying, will you? You’re giving yourself gray scales.”
Razir’s lips lifted off his teeth. “Father will not be pleased she is here.”
Well, that was true. But Tyrez wasn’t about to admit he’d brought her here for the simplest of reasons.
He’d wanted to.
Impossible to explain that to Razir. Or even to admit it to himself. From the moment he’d seen her in the cemetery, something deep inside him had come alive.
He certainly wasn’t going to admit to his brother that he’d dreamed of the bloody woman.
It was just a dream,he reminded himself. Still, if that were the case, why not show her as a full-sized Dragon? Instead, she’d been small, and not the brilliant fiery color of a true Dragona, but pitch-black with the ivory streak through her crest.
Beautiful.
Shewasbeautiful. Something he couldn’t help but notice as he’d carried her, winging his way with an aching head through the aerial gateway to his home realm. So tiny, she was, lying stark naked among his foretalons. And scrawny—he could count every rib, her hip bones and shoulder blades sharp beneath her skin.
Was this the same woman that had been in the battle within the giant forest, where she’d made the earth rise to bury his brother and the Sabres? She seemed so insignificant. Although she shared the Dragon love of body decor—with the nose stud, and two tattoos. A diving Dragon on one arm, and a stylized one on her chest.
Dragons.
It had given him pause, seeing those. Maybe that was why he’d dreamed of her with wings?
Razir had rooted beer out of Tyrez’s fridge and now renewed his attack.
“Take her to the Watcher’s place,” he suggested.
“She’ll bolt, Razir.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yeah, I kinda do. And if we lose her this time, chances are good we won’t find her again.”
Razir slammed the beer down on the counter. “What about putting her in a cell, then?”
“You want me to put her in a cell?” Tyrez snarled.
“She buried me with dirt. Yes. Yes, a cell would be a good idea. Who knows what she’ll do here. She might bring the entire palace down on us.”
That was a distinct possibility. With that talent, she certainly wasn’t someone to piss off. Tyrez rubbed his temple and then winced when he touched the raw bit.
Razir’s brows dropped even lower. “I would sure love to know what nailed you. It shouldn’t have been able to do that.”
“Yeah,” agreed Tyrez. Whatever had shot him from the darkness of the cemetery hadn’t been lethal, but it hurt like hell. The Gryphon healer had said it might even leave a scar. She’d done the best she could, but the skin remained red and raw.
“Wasn’t from Rindek,” he added. “Those bursts bounced right off me. But this didn’t penetrate completely, either.”
“Still, it went farther through your scales than it should have.” His brother shrugged, dismissing it. Tyrez’s upright and talking status reduced it to a minor discussion. “Seriously, bro. That woman can’t stay in yourbedroom.”
The image that comment inspired—of the woman lying naked in his bed—caused Tyrez’s entire body to tighten.
