A Lair So Primal by Zoey Ellis

10

Elora lay in bed, her limbs relaxed and her mind drifting. She didn't want to think, or move, or be disturbed in any way. Zendyor’s scent filled her nose, saturated in the sheets around her, his dried seed pungent on the blanket she pressed her nose into, but she was glad he was gone.

She'd heard him leaving in the middle of the night and his admission to Marahl that he was not going to give her a role or make her part of his staff. The betrayal only added to her desolation. She wasn't sure why he’d moved her into his chambers if he was never going to allow her to become part of his lair, but she had told him everything. He had forced it out of her, and he wasn’t going to honor his word.

She shouldn't be surprised. The only reason why she wasn’t dead yet was because he liked bedding her. Just like the Goddess, he had all the power because she so desperately wanted to stay. Her need to replace her community had made her vulnerable. Maybe she needed to rethink if she truly needed it.

The realization of what happened with the Goddess still rocked her, and when her mind was quiet, memories of the faces of her family filled her mind’s eye. She couldn’t stop the tears. The desolation was deep and consuming, and she tried her hardest to ignore it, to convince herself that it wasn’t her fault, but the more she was alone with her thoughts, the more she couldn’t see how she wasn’t at fault. It was her direct decision that led to their deaths, even if it was the Goddess who carried out the sentence.

The conversation with the Goddess played over in her mind and she tried to figure out where she went wrong, what she should have asked in order to avoid what happened, while still giving the Goddess what she wanted. But there was just too much she hadn’t known at that time.

As daybreak arrived, Marahl brought her food and tea and asked her who she wanted to invite to visit. Elora didn't respond. She didn’t know if she could trust Marahl—in fact, she knew she couldn’t when she first met her—and she seemed to have forgotten that.

In the afternoon, Marahl entered again with a few plates and a pot of lemon tea. "Telyssa would like to visit with you,” she said as she poured her a cup.

Elora stared at the ceiling.

"She is our lord’s kon'aya," Marahl said.

Elora lowered her head. "I’ve been trying to speak to her for months,” she said, her voice croaking. “No one knows where her quarters are or how to get in touch with her."

“She is based in a quieter, more secluded part of the lair," Marahl explained. "Not many of the servants would know or recognize her."

Elora frowned. That was a little odd. She debated whether she wanted to speak to her or not. She no longer needed insight into Zendyor behavior but maybe she could learn something. “I’ll see her.”

Telyssa arrived approximately an hour later. She stepped into the room, looking around curiously at everything, before seeing Elora sitting up in the bed. Elora had debated with herself about whether it would be appropriate to be in Zendyor's bed when his kon'aya arrived, but she didn’t feel like getting up. Her body felt heavy and lethargic and while she hoped she didn’t look too tired or disheveled, she didn’t really care if she did. "Good day," she said tentatively.

Telyssa stopped in the middle of the room. Ashkel had been right. Telyssa was very different in many ways. She appeared a bit older, had an angled face and fuller hips. Dark curly hair tumbled over her shoulders, and her green eyes watched Elora closely. She was clearly an omega, and very pretty indeed.

"To you too," Telyssa responded.

"I've been trying to meet with you for months."

"Why?"

Elora shrugged. “I thought it would be good to talk.”

Telyssa glanced around again. "I didn't realize that you were effectively a kon’aya until much later, otherwise I would have accepted your request."

Elora cocked her head. "Why wouldn't you accept it anyway?"

Telyssa’s eyes returned to her. "I heard that you were a criminal paying off your debt. I didn’t know what your intentions were, and I didn't want to be a target simply because I am our lord's kon'aya."

Elora bit her lip in thought. “Is that why you haven't been around the lair or joining any of the activities?" she asked. "Because of me?"

"Oh no," Telyssa said. "I have a secluded room in a different part of the lair."

So that was why no one had managed to find her. She eyed Telyssa carefully. She didn't look like the other servants who always looked exhausted and frantic. “You’re not on a schedule of duties like the other servants?"

Telyssa squinted at her with a coldness in her gaze. "No. My job is to be available to fuck him whenever he pleases.”

An odd feeling trembled in Elora’s stomach at the idea of this omega with Zendyor, but she pushed it aside, alarmed with herself.

“I can’t be exhausted from sweeping corridors when he’s expecting that,” Telyssa continued.

Her logic seemed reasonable, but Elora spent most days walking around the lair or working with the servants before seeing Zendyor, and he never had complaints about her being too tired. “It's very nice to meet you. I wanted to speak to someone about him for a while and you seem like the most relevant person."

"Yes, those of us he beds should probably stick together.” She stepped closer. “What did you want to talk about?”

That feeling twisted in Elora’s stomach again. "I’m not sure anymore,” she said. I’d wondered what his normal behavior was—if he behaved irrationally and unreasonably with you, and if he…" Elora wasn't sure how to say what she wanted to say. In the other lair, sex was talked about frequently, and the women were open about their experiences, but she didn't know how Telyssa was going to react or respond.

“He is very wild,” Telyssa said, after the silence stretched. “Like a primitive creature with demanding needs. But it is… very pleasurable if you just submit to it.”

The odd feeling twisted into something hot and ugly. The idea of her finding pleasure in Zendyor… or him finding pleasure in her. “When was the last time you bed him?” she asked tightly.

Telyssa shook her head. “Not for a while, a few years.”

Relief calmed the ugliness in her. “Really, that long?”

The kon’aya nodded. “His needs have urgent peaks and then quiet lulls. It’s been quiet for a long time, but I would be prepared if I woke up one night with his cock down my throat, or flipped over with a—”

“All right,” Elora growled, holding a shaky hand up. The part of her that reveled in Zendyor’s attentions was urging her to get off the damn bed and tear this threat standing before her apart. She was barely in control.

Telyssa let out a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be… inappropriate. We’re the only ones who really know…”

Elora exhaled, forcing the disturbing feelings to calm. “Well, maybe not for much longer. He won’t make me a real kon’aya or a member of his staff.”

Telyssa looked at her strangely. “And you think that’s a bad thing?”

Elora frowned. “Of course. Aren’t you glad to be in a dragorai lair where you’re safe?”

Telyssa was quiet for a moment. “When I came here, I wasn't the only kon’aya. There were two others. He made use of them more frequently than he did me. In fact, they were his preferred choices for a long time. And yes, I loved being here back then, and I was very grateful to have escaped the queen and her barbaric regiment. Everyone here works hard and keeps to themselves, and I was well looked after.” She tilted her head, watching Elora closely. "A pattern I’ve noticed is that he seems to take his fill of something that is new and once it's over, he replaces them with something else."

Elora nodded. If it had been any other day she would have been upset and possibly terrified by that idea, but she’d already been thinking about the likelihood of that.

Telyssa continued. “After he tired of the other kon’ayas and moved onto me, they disappeared.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean they disappeared. They used to have quarters on the same corridor as me and suddenly their rooms were empty. When I asked the stewards about it, they told me that they had been transferred to a different lair, but wouldn’t say where. Personally, I think they were dropped out on his range and hunted."

Elora's mouth dropped open. "Hunted?"

“By our lord and his dragon, yes.” Telyssa nodded. "That’s what I suspect.”

“Why? Why would he do that?”

“Why not? He is extremely vicious and he always needs new things to hunt. Why not members of staff whom you have no need for anymore?"

"No," Elora said, unwilling to believe it. "He has plenty of people who trespass on his property to hunt, he doesn't need to hunt his own staff."

Telyssa crossed her arms, locking Elora with an intense look. "Do you know why everyone works so hard? It's not because they have to or because they enjoy it."

"Why?" Elora asked, her voice almost a whisper.

"They work so hard because there are not enough staff," Telyssa said. "It takes everyone longer to do things because the lair is big and there are not enough people to do the jobs required."

Elora stared at her, wanting to deny it but recognized the truth to her words. When she first began helping everyone do their tasks, they had more free time. If there were more staff in the lair, it wouldn't be so taxing on the servants because the workload would be shared.

"It never used to be like this," Telyssa continued. "When I arrived years ago, the lair was fully staffed and people had normal workloads. The other kon’ayas and I used to be in charge of making, washing, and repairing robes. That was what we did almost all day, but we would do it together and take our breaks and lunches whenever we wanted. Now, everyone has to do everything alone and the amount of time it takes means that no one can ever talk." She looked at Elora pointedly. "That is by design. He keeps people so busy and separated no one notices when people go missing."

Elora squeezed her eyes shut, unable to believe what she was hearing. Zendyor had never shown any particular interest in the servants, but neither had Nyro. It didn’t mean he was willing to kill them in such a horrific way.

"I will admit,” Telyssa said, “he rarely spoke when he was with me, but as someone he considers to have broken his rules, has he never made any reference to hunting people?"

He had. The first time he’d met her, but that was trespassers not his staff. “That can't work long-term,” Elora reasoned. “They need staff, and they need staff who know what they're doing. He cannot hunt them if the lair is to be run successfully."

"I know," Telyssa said. "But that doesn't mean he doesn’t. Can you think of anyone out in the war who wouldn’t want to come here?” She shrugged. “So the fact you are not officially a member of his staff is a blessing. You are under no obligation to any work agreement. In fact, you’re a prisoner— captured by him for being on his land. You are not committed to any role or position.”

Elora wrapped her arms around herself. "I just…. I cannot believe what you're saying."

"You don't have to," Telyssa said, that cold gaze in her eyes was back. "Once he tires of you, you will find out."

Something about the way she said it was strange. Elora watched her closely. Telyssa's eyes were bright, her fingers twitched against her thigh and she was slightly swaying from one foot to another.

"You’re scared," Elora said softly. "You don't need to be scared."

Telyssa's eyes widened. "Of course I'm scared! I don't know what's going to happen to me now that you've come along."

"Nothing is going to happen to you," Elora said calmly. "It’s been months that I‘ve been here and you’re still here too."

Telyssa stilled, a frown forming on her face. “I never thought of that.”

“I’m sure if he was going to do anything, he would have done it by now.”

Telyssa took a breath. “I suppose you’re right. I still think I should stay out of the way, though.”

Elora made a face. “Is that why you stay so secluded?”

She nodded. “I don’t want to draw attention to myself.”

The door opened and Marahl entered. “It’s time to go, Telyssa,” she said smiling. “Elora needs to rest.”

Telyssa nodded and turned back to Elora with a smile. “It was nice to meet you.”

“And you,” Elora said, returning her smile.

When they left, she dropped back on the bed, her mind whirling.

Her conversation with Telyssa had been revealing. Not because of the woman’s obvious paranoia, which had some basis in reason, but because it was clear now to Elora that she felt something for Zendyor. None of the kon’ayas in the Nyro’s lair felt ownership over their dragorai master, but there was a kinship between those who shared his bed—of course before I’mya. Yet it was making Elora furious to even think about Zendyor with another woman. When had this happened? When did she start to mistake his touch, his sultry kisses and his sinful pleasure to mean it was anything more than a physical act? Yes, there were true moments of tenderness in their interactions, like when he kissed her as though he was savoring everything about her or his expression when he watched her climax, taking no pleasure for himself as she unraveled on his tongue or thick fingers. Sometimes the way he looked at her made her preen. But none of that truly meant anything.

She couldn’t let that the person he forced her to become—that somewhat irritable omega obsessed with his scent and knot, the one who snapped at him and found reassurance whenever he brutally staked his claim—to delude her into thinking she was anything more than a criminal he was fucking to pay off a debt. If he had thought of her as more, he would have made her part of the lair, given her a role, or announced her as a new kon’aya. He would have done something to suggest a commitment to keeping her there. But he had done nothing. He’d even threatened her as recently as a couple of days ago—the day before she moved into his chambers—that he would send her back to the war. Why was she stupidly expecting she would be able to live happily among the servants? It wasn’t realistic with someone like Zendyor. She couldn't trust her own feelings or instincts about him, and in fact, he was using her need for community and companionship with the other servants against her, just like the Goddesses did. She was putting herself at risk again… was it worth it?

The question was, what could she do about it?

Telyssa implied she should leave, but where would she go? The other continent of the Twin Realms? Try her luck in the South? She sighed. The whole point of her living in a lair was to be safe from the war.

She closed her eyes and thought about her previous lair and all the friends she'd made. Once I’mya was recognized as Nyro’s mate, there had been no expectations of her, no forced trades. But that had been luck. It wasn't something she could count on again. When she was leaving that lair, Nureen had told her to look after herself first, to be selfish sometimes. That was all Telyssa was trying to do—look after herself, and she would probably be more likely to survive because she had no one else. Who did Elora have? The servants wouldn’t defy their lord for her. Marahl couldn’t even convince him to grant her a position within the lair, even though she had tried. For all her attempts to be part of a community, it would never happen in Zendyor’s lair. She would never again have what she had with her faction, and her need for it made her a constant victim.

Elora dropped her head in her hands and sobbed. She sobbed for her family, for the servants in the lair, for her friends in Nyro’s lair, and for the deluded omega she’d been that led her to this point. Afterward, she felt better. Sitting up, she reached for the plates of food Marahl had brought her. If she was going to be selfish, she needed her energy.

Within hours she was dressed in layers of clothing and looking through her belongings to see if there was anything that she wanted to take with her.

The door was locked, of course, and when she looked around, there was only one way out of the room and that was through the opening to the mountain.

She held up her hand and pressed her palm forward to see if there was any kind of magical barrier. As she inched forward, a ripple spread out across the opening, but nothing stopped her hand from going straight through.

She peered down. It wasn’t steep; it would just take some careful climbing. It might take her a while, but she could do it. Tying together the tunic, robes, and sheets from her chest of drawers, plus what she could find in Zendyor's room, she created a long and secure rope. She tied one side to the leg of his desk and the other side around her waist and then she approached the edge of the window, the magical barrier cool on her skin. Turning, she crouched down, feeling for footing as she gripped onto the edge. And once she was secure, she began the climb.

* * *

"What do we have here?"

The shrill voice sounding out behind her, echoing around the mountain, made Elora gasp and almost lost her balance.

She secured her footing and then twisted around to look over her shoulder.

Behind her, hovering in midair, on top of an enormous slab of rock, was a large group of women, at least twenty, all dressed as warriors in red and black leather. Their expressions as fierce as were the weapons adorning their bodies. The only women who looked different stood at the front, dressed in an elaborate robe with a golden staff and a beautiful crown. The queen.

A trickle of dread snaked down Elora’s spine. How did she get onto Zendyor’s territory?

"What a foolish thing to be doing," the queen said, squinting up at how far Elora had traveled down.

"What do you want?" Elora breezed, although her voice did not carry as well as the other woman’s.

The queen looked up again. “You are either escaping or infiltrating this lair. Either way, you will be useful to me.”

Voices began to chant and the tang of magic filled Elora’s nose, and just as she registered how strange that was, it swirled around her whole body, yanking her from the mountainside and pulling her out into the air.

Elora screamed as she soared, breeze whipping around her and rushing past her ears until she slowed, landing on the platform in the middle of the women warriors.

"What do you want with me? Let me go!"

From the front of the hovering platform, the queen turned to look at her, taking in her face and her clothing. "I doubt you are someone important to the dragorai," she said. "But in case you are, I shall take you anyway."

A woman next to her grabbed her carrysack, while two others tied her wrists behind her back. “I will just be a burden to you," Elora said through gritted teeth. "I am not anyone of importance."

The queen shrugged. "If that turns out to be true I can just kill you. The dragorai took something from me, so I will take everything I possibly can from them."

The women began chanting again, but this time under their breaths, and the platform they stood on rose up and flew away from the mountain.

Elora looked around, the beautiful landscape stretching far and wide in all directions. It was stunning, but she couldn't take the time to appreciate it. She had just left one prison to end up in another, and this time, dread held her firm.

She’d heard many stories about the queen, from both lairs. She wasn't someone Elora wanted to be near, at all. She'd have to find a time and a way to escape but it was disheartening that she hadn't even made it off Zendyor's mountain before getting captured.

The rock they stood on drifted a few yards farther away, hovering in the sky.

"Whose lair is this?" the queen asked her casually, as if they were having a conversation.

"I'm not telling you anything," Elora said. Anger burned in her veins at the idea that she was at the mercy of this woman.

"The dragorai came to my provinces and launched an unprovoked attack against me,” the queen said, as if she’d not spoken, “as they have been doing to my family for years. I think it's about time that they learn what that feels like."

"There is none of their family in there," Elora insisted. "Only their staff."

"Good enough," the queen said. "I just wanted to make sure that it is the right lair."

Elora’s nerves jittered. "Whose lair are you looking for?"

"The one who is most effective in war. The Dragorai of War, we call him in the South."

She had to mean Zendyor. All of the history about him lauded his fighting abilities. But Elora said nothing. She was not going to confirm anything.

“Your silence tells me all I want to know.”

"You are talking about dragorai," Elora snapped. “What makes you think you can just attack them like that?”

"The dragorai are not the only ones who are capable of wielding magic to an expert degree," the queen said, almost as if she was offended. "Just because I haven't attacked them before, does not mean I am not a formidable opponent. They should not have come to my provinces."

"They have the favor of the Goddesses. They are more powerful than—"

"Spare me!" The queen's eyes blazed. "The Goddesses no longer want to dirty their hands with us. We are too base, too primitive for their high-flown ideas about what creation and life should be. They want us to feel, but they don't want us to exhibit those feelings in ways that are natural for us.” She flung her arms out yelling into the mountain range. “This is life," she yelled, her voice echoing across the range. "Blood. Agony. Heartache." She turned to look at Elora, her eyes wild. "In battle is when you find out what it means to be alive.” Her eyes raked down Elora again. “I don’t expect you to understand. No one wants pretty women to experience that thrill. It’s better than an alpha’s knot, at least in some instances.”

Elora glared at her, disgust and loathing burning through her body.

The queen threw her head back and laughed, but the rumbling sound of distant roars interrupted her. Immediately, the warrior women around her went on alert.

"Wardens," the queen said, addressing them, her eyes scanning the range. "You know what to do. Keep this one further down. We will use her when we need to, and we’ll find out if she is indeed important to the dragorai."

Women on either side of Elora yanked her down to her knees and surrounded her, one of them held her down with a hand to the back of her neck.

The roaring came closer, until it was so loud it sent goosebumps up the back of Elora’s neck. The queen’s slab of rock hovered in stillness as the dragorai approached. Elora could hear the whipping of wings, but she couldn't see anything from where she was.

"How have you breached this territory?" one of the dragorai’s roared.

Elora couldn't tell who was speaking, but it wasn't Zendyor.

“You tell me," the queen shot back. "You think your ranges are so secure when they're not. It is simply that no one with enough interest and talent has bothered to make an attempt. You have always been vulnerable. You tell me why you came to the South."

There was no answer from any of the brothers, but a series of rumbling roars came from every direction.

"Tell me why you were there!" the queen shouted. "You continue to come to my provinces and cause disruption and destruction, and you think there will be no retaliation? You underestimate me."

The roaring surged, almost deafening Elora.

The slab of rock lurched to the side and Elora screamed, attempting to grab onto the nearest woman's legs to maintain her balance. However, the hand on the back of her neck magically held her there. She couldn't move—she couldn't even speak. She was completely frozen.

The platform jerked one way and then the other. Commotion filled the air—dragons roaring, alphas bellowing, and the women around her were all chanting different words and facing different directions.

Elora remained stuck in that position, her mind racing that she was currently in active battle between the dragorai and the southern queen. The rock slab dipped and swerved and spun round, and even rolled over at one point, but Elora stayed in position where she was, knees to the hard rocky surface, head down, her heart pounding in her throat as she tried to figure out how the battle was going.

The slab of rock jerked hard to the left and then they were spinning fast across the range. The wind whipped so quickly past Elora, she could barely catch her breath. It took the wardens awhile to steady the rock, and in the meantime Elora closed her eyes trying not to get dizzy or nauseous. When they finally slowed, the queen bellowed out words that Elora didn't understand, and suddenly she was being dragged up to her feet and pushed toward the queen.

"Dragorai of war," the queen yelled out to the figure coming toward them. Elora tried to steady herself on her feet, but everything was so disorientating. When she looked around, the dragorai were approaching from every direction, surrounding them. Directly in front of them was Zendyor, standing on top of his dragon.

His eyes locked with hers and shock crossed his face. He roared in fury, his face contorting as every muscle in his body bulged. His dragon followed suit, sending a powerful clamor across the range toward the queen, deafening all within the vicinity.

Even when the commotion stopped, Zendyor remained a picture of absolute rage. "If you harm her, you will find your death immediately after," he roared.

The queen laughed but there was no humor in it. “Do you think I fear death?” she shouted back to Zendyor. To Elora she said, “I see you are valuable after all.”

Zendyor looked furious, but the queen did not know how possessive he could be about his treasures.

"If you do not release her, your death is guaranteed," Nyro called from his dragon. Behind him, on the same dragon, stood another dragorai that Elora recognized from I’mya’s ordination.

The head of the clan.

"What do you want?" another, dark-skinned brother said.

“Tyomar!" Zendyor bellowed at him.

Tyomar held up a hand as if telling Zendyor to wait. "What do you want?" he asked the queen again.

"I want what you took from me," the queen spat. "I want Oshali. I want my warden Uraya, who you had no right to take! I want you to feel what it's like when someone invades your dominion and takes something from you."

"So you’re prepared to use your resources on us instead of the king," another dragorai remarked. "That seems foolish."

"The king is incapable of defeating me," the queen said. "You have always been more of a threat, except you’ve been smart enough to stay out of it until now. I can see this little Omega is valuable to you," she said to Zendyor. Elora didn’t think it was possible for him to look even more threatening, but she was wrong. The queen continued, ignoring the obvious threat. "I will most definitely be taking her back to the South with me.”

Zendyor and his dragon charged.

"Wait," the other dragorai bellowed. "Zen, wait!"

The wardens surrounded Elora immediately and started chanting. The slab of rock dropped straight down and then shot backward. Elora jerked forward, almost toppling off the front edge, but the wardens had a good grip on her. They shot over the range with the dragorai in pursuit.

Zendyor and his dragon led the charge, flying so fast and darting to different angles they were almost a blur. It was a furious chase. The queen’s wardens were experts in incantations; it was clear they were trained well. The slab not only traveled at incredible speed, but it turned and dipped and rose quickly, maneuvering and darting in any direction they needed to, just like the dragorai.

They reached the edge of the Forbidden Mountains and continued into the realm, but Elora couldn’t tell which Dominion they were in, the North or the South. Either way, the dragorai were still coming. Around them trees burst into flames, roars echoed in her ears, and she began to feel the strain of the adrenaline pounding through her body.

Her knees buckled, and the warden beside her yanked her back up.

"You should have been one of my wardens," the queen commented. “It would have given you strength."

Elora grit her teeth, though she didn't respond. Everyone always thought she was weak just because she encouraged positivity, but the truth was, it took a lot to always be the happy one, to brush aside people's rudeness and inconsiderate attitudes to keep everyone in good spirits. "You are not the epitome of a strong woman," she muttered under her breath.

The queen turned to her, looking at her through narrowed eyes. "If you are trying to infuriate me, you can be sure that you will not outlive this day."

"I'm not sure I'm seeing how that would be a negative thing."

The queen stared at her, observing her closely. "That is good to know," she said.

A whip sounded by Elora's ear, and one of the wardens fell to the ground. Another two whips and another two fell.

The queen cried out in annoyance. She said something to the remaining wardens, and the slab jerked to the side, rounding the range and heading in a different direction.

They soared back around until they were over the Forbidden Mountains, then came to a stop by Zendyor's lair. Immediately, the dragorai surrounded them, and the queen grabbed Elora and dragged her to the edge of the slab.

"You have a choice," she said as the dragorai slowed.

"Give her to me," Zendyor bellowed.

He was holding a magical spear, aimed at the queen's head.

"Do you think you can save her before I move out of your range?” the queen asked.

"Yes," Zendyor shot back. "If she is harmed today—one fucking scratch—I will not rest until you are screaming in agony for your death."

The queen glanced at one of her wardens and they began to chant. As they cast, rumbling echoed throughout the mountains and Elora frowned as she looked down at the mountain before them. Were the wardens doing that to the mountain?

"I hear that all of your staff is in that mountain—the weakest mountain in the range,” the queen said. “Is this where your dragorai temple is too?”

Elora stilled. "What do you mean weak?"

"Its structure is unsound," the queen said. "It wouldn't take too much effort to collapse it. That's one of the reasons I came here first." She smiled. “It was just luck I found you stupidly climbing down it.”

“No!” Elora's breath left her. "There are people in there," she said in shock. "You can't do that."

"I can do whatever the fuck I want," the queen retorted. She began chanting with her wardens, their efforts directed at Zendyor’s lair.

The mountain cracked as it shook, rocks tumbling down it.

Elora gasped, her eyes wide on Zendyor, silently pleading with him to save his staff.

"Elora," he bellowed a warning in her voice. "You are more important—"

"No!” Elora shouted back. "Do not let them be hurt. Please!”

Zendyor's nostrils flared. "I cannot get everyone out in time," he said, his own anguish clear. He gestured to his brothers. "Even if we all go we could never get to everyone before it collapsed, and you cannot die."

"Please try," she yelled. “Please. Please!”

Zendyor muttered orders to his brothers, who all headed toward his mountain, but Zendyor remained. "I’m not leaving you.”

The mountain began to collapse, Elora cried out, desperate. They were all going to die. "No," she sobbed. “This can't happen again.” And then realization hit her. This was what the Goddess had been talking about. The stewards and servants were going to die, even if the dragorai did all they could—it had been preordained by a Goddess.

“You’re both so adorable,” the queen said, bitterness in her voice. “But I will save you the grief and heartache. Love like that doesn’t last.”

With that, she pushed Elora off the edge of the hovering slab.

Zendyor's thunderous howls echoed around her, and Elora could see the mountain, the dragons flying about around it as it continued to collapse.

Closing her eyes, she screamed out the Goddess’ name.