Page 124 of Jay's Silence

Yesterday changed something fundamental inside of me. My dragon felt alive for the first time in my life. I was still me, but the world was sharper. The emotional beast I’d spent my life controlling didn’t exist curled up in my mind, but flowed with my thoughts.

It took me less than a heartbeat to douse Tyson’s flames during my hunt for Jay. I knew, without a doubt, no one could evaporate my water or extinguish the fire prince's flames again. My human and dragon senses blended more thoroughly than I’d ever experienced. Instead of needing to call on my elemental magic, it tingled at the tip of my fingers.

A new awareness of my other mates gave me a sense of their intentions.

Right now, one of those intentions wasn’t right.

I opened my eyes. Jay still slept curled under my arm. Og’s head rested on my stomach, his fingers curled with Jay’s, while Lux slept on his back on Jay’s other side.

Tyson was missing.

We hadn’t quite figured out our dynamics. Although Tyson clearly enjoyed sharing Jay’s body, I couldn’t imagine him resting his head on one of us or letting us rest our heads on him. I reached down and brushed Og’s hair. For that matter, if it weren’t for Jay, I would have pushed Og off me hours ago. The earth dragon felt like a heated blanket in the middle of an already hot sleep.

Footsteps sounded on the wooden deck outside our door. A slight breeze carrying Tyson’s sweat-covered scent whipped into the room. The feeling of wrongness doubled.

I watched him approach in the dark. A backdrop of stars left his human body in silhouette. His usual cocky gait shuffled slightly, and his shoulders hunched. A recently familiar object was tucked under his right arm. The shotgun’s long barrel ended just below his thigh.

Wrong. Every instinct I had inside me screamed with the world.

The fire prince stepped into the room and raised the rifle, pointing it directly at Jay.

Adrenaline surged through my blood. I pushed Og, forcing his barely awake body off the bed, before wrapping Jay in my arms and rolling, which I prayed woke Lux.

A bullet exploded the pillow I’d just been sleeping on.

Jay hit the hardwood floor, with me on top of her, while Lux sat bolt upright, still in his human skin. His air instincts still told him safety was, up. His entire life, his father had dropped him into pits. Getting lower would never be his first instinct.

“Down,” I yelled, just as Tyson fired another shot.

Blood sprayed from Lux’s chest. His scream cut through the quiet night as fast and hard as the rifle blast.

I reached up, grabbed Lux’s arm, and pulled him off the bed. Jay softened his fall as much as she could. Tyson fired again, andfeathers exploded from the pillows. Og crawled under the bed towards us, desperately trying to get to the bleeding Lux.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Jay cursed as she stuffed the gaping hole in Lux’s chest with whatever she could reach.

The air prince clung to consciousness. Blood bubbled out of his mouth with each breath. There was no way he could shift. We needed Og.

We learned the hard way that our scales were no match for a rifle firing armor-piercing rounds from point blank. I covered myself in scales anyway and charged Tyson. He shot again, the kickback knocking his right shoulder back. I hit his unbalanced side and sent us both flying through the glass door and onto the wooden deck beyond. I didn’t see the rifle land, but I heard metal skid away from us.

Although Tyson hit the wood under me with enough force to crack the planks, if he felt it, he showed no sign. His usual fiery gaze looked at me dully before he punched me hard in the side. I gagged but didn’t let go. He hit me again, and I snarled, ramming my scale-covered knee into his balls.

No reaction.

Not pain.

Not indignation for using a cheap shot.

Tyson was a shell, and he fought like one. Although his blows hurt, it was like he suddenly only knew basic punches. In minutes, I had him rolled onto his chest and his arms restrained behind his back.

My sense of Lux was still strong. Og must have gotten to him. In fact, if I closed my eyes, the sensation of Og’s warm healing magic tingled my skin.

I had always been a dragon who enjoyed my alone time. I always would be. But this new awareness, this connection, felt like acceptance. In the short time I’d had it, I knew I’d never be able to live without it.

I squeezed my brother’s hands. “Why, Tyson? Do you not feel it, too?”

He didn’t respond.

Wrongness.