A heatwave billowed behind her and she craned her neck, searching for which of Riv’s juvenile stablemates was getting too bold.
“Oh,” she sighed. “You.”
The commander leaned against the roost’s far wall, arms crossed in what seemed to be his default stance. “If you were better trained, you’d have sensed me tracking you from the Andromeda wing.”
“If you were less of an asshole, I might take your advice into consideration. Alas.” She tossed him a bitter smile, rising from her spot on the floor. Riverion’s head perked up, taking in the stranger.
“Hornsby?”
Astra muttered, “Look closer.” People always did that. They saw a big, powerful dragon and assumed he must be a coveted pureblood Hornsby. They never considered a more common mutt like Riverion could be so well-raised.
“Will he burn me if I get too close? Or is that just his rider?” Luxuros sounded as if he was joking, but Astra saw it in his eyes—his uncertainty.
“Perhaps he could even you out,” Astra said.
Silence and spite were all she got back. The commander’s large frame slipped over the stable walls. He leaned closer to Riv, still maintaining enough space between them to get behind the wall should he lunge. Riverion turned and glanced out of the roost, twisting his neck skyward to show off the way his scales lit up when the Moon hit him.
Luxuros gasped. “A Silvershift! Of that size?”
“Half,” Astra offered. “Half Silvershift, half Firestarter.”
“Remarkable,” the commander breathed. “Where did you find him?”
“I didn’t. I inherited him.” Astra drew in a tight breath. “He was my aunt’s.”
Luxuros hung his head for a moment. “Ah.” He stepped forward, extending his hand toward Riverion’s snout.
“Wouldn’t do that,” Astra mumbled. “He doesn’t like men.”
Riverion swung his head around and threw Astra a glare that she could interpret as fuck you as he nuzzled the commander’s waiting fingertips.
“Traitor!”
“Good boy,” Luxuros chuckled, patting him gently. “Half-flame recognizes half-flame, I suppose.” The commander winked, drawing a content chortle from Riverion.
“Gods smite me,” Astra cursed, wiping her brow as the heat of him settled against her.
“Mirquios is leaving,” Luxuros said. “I came to find you so you can bid him farewell.”
“Great,” she chirped. “I’m glad to be rid of your insufferable temper.” She hopped over the stable wall and Luxuros trailed her, laughing darkly.
“Oh, I’m not going with him. He requested I stay back.” He stepped over the gate with little effort and crossed his arms, a sickening smirk on his lips. “Babysit.”
Astra’s head started shaking before he got the final syllable out. “No. Absolutely not,” she growled, a red tide crashing against her lungs. The commander backed away, his eyes flashing to her fingertips. “I’m not a fucking monster, Commander. I thought you were attacking me!”
“Can’t be too careful,” he said, shrugging.
“This isn’t happening.” Astra took the steps two at a time, the cool air streaming into the roost eaten up by Luxuros at her back. She darted across the courtyard and through the Celestial Hall, Luxuros never more than a pace behind her. As she burst into the palace gardens and through the cobblestone paths to the Lunar Gate, her father’s eyes widened, recognizing the flame burning within hers.
“Astra!” Mirquios broke from his conversation with Nayson, turning with arms out for his bride, but by the time he registered her ire, it was too late.
“I do not need your commander here to babysit me. I am a grown woman,” she barked, dodging his hands. The king’s eyes swept from Astra’s to Nayson’s, who found himself particularly interested in something in the trees above. “I can manage perfectly fine on my own!”
The king held his hands up in surrender. “I meant no offense.”
She snarled, “I am not offended.”
“You certainly sound offended,” Luxuros groused behind her.
