Page 132 of Full Moon
Chapter 58
Feray
That sneaky dragonof mine lulled me to sleep during the flight. He insisted it's unnatural for a wolf to fly and just wanted me comfortable. All I know is that I was warm, safe, and surrounded by my mates. I stir, catching the scent of food, and both my eyes pop open in an instant. I sit up abruptly, scanning the room with sudden urgency.
"It's just me," Easton says as he steps into the room, his voice calm.
"When did we get here?" I ask, glancing around at the spacious bedroom. The bed beneath me is the largest I've ever seen—soft and almost too luxurious. The kind of bed that could swallow you whole.
"About an hour ago. Diaval kept you asleep during the transfer and the drive here. You needed it if it was so easy for him to do."It wasn't just Diaval keeping me asleep. I can tell by the way Easton's jaw tightens.
"Where's the egg?" My heart skips a beat as I scan the room again.
"Diaval has it. Everyone's ready to eat if you are?" He offers me his hand, and I slide out from the buttery soft sheets, my feet finding the cool floor.
"I could eat," I say, laughing softly. "Fi would have an aneurysm if she knew how much I need to eat now."
Easton leads me into the living room, transformed into a makeshift dining area. The mingling scents of different foods hit me like a freight train—overwhelming and tantalizing at the same time. But there's one scent that stands out: my kabobs.
Without hesitation, I break away from Easton, grabbing two kabobs before making a beeline for Torben's lap. I would have gone to Diaval, as I usually do, but he's on egg duty. His brow furrows as he watches me, clearly wondering why I'm not with him. I wave a kabob skewer at him, smiling.
"You have the baby, silly dragon."
"Ah yes, how forgetful of me." He smiles down affectionately at the egg, though his gaze keeps drifting back to me.
"Is it an earth-dragon or another species?" I ask, accepting another set of kabobs from Khal.
"Your father's notes suggest it was found near the skeleton of an earth-dragon," Easton answers.
"Where it was found and what it is are two different things," Diaval adds, his gaze dropping to the egg. "By how weathered the shell is, I would guess it's been on that mountain long before the dragon that died near it." His voice is low, almost reverent, as he studies the egg, fingers tracing over its rough and smooth scales.
"Do you have a clue what species it might be?"
"It could be several. Time and the elements have discolored the shell." His voice turns wistful. "For it to have awoken when you took possession of it, it knows you're female and will take care of it. Some eggs have lain dormant for hundreds of years, waiting to be cared for." Diaval cradles the egg with such reverence that it pulls at something deep inside me. The way he holds it, fingers tracing the shell's surface—I can tell he's hoping, no, wishing for it to be a black dragon. I can feel it in the subtle shift of his energy, the quiet longing in his gaze. Deep down, I'm hoping for the same.
I'm the last of my kind, a rarity among wolves, yet there are still other wolves out there. But a black dragon? There are no more, and I'm not sure how long he can bear that loneliness. Basilisks are close, I suppose. But they're not the same. Flightless, bound to the earth. Not like him. My thoughts swirl, a strange mix of hope and sadness, as I stare at the half-eaten kabob in my hand.
"Where did you go just now?" Torben's voice cuts through my reverie.
I blink, glancing down at the food I've barely touched. "I was thinking about our different species. Diaval's closest relative is a basilisk. Yours would be a brown bear or a polar bear."
I pause, my gaze lingering on Easton. He catches my look, but I have no idea what to say. What creature might be close to him? "I think yours might be—" I trail off.
"A fire elemental," Easton interrupts, a sad, almost resigned tone coloring his words. He stares at the carpet. "It's the closest thing to being related to me. But even that's a stretch. Fire elementals can't resurrect like I do." He sighs, shoulders slumping. For a moment, the weight of his isolation feelspalpable. It presses against my chest, making it harder to breathe.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. I hadn't meant to stir those painful memories. He's been the last of his kind for so long, longer than I can truly comprehend.
But before I can say more, he raises a hand, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Don't be. I've been at peace with it for over five hundred years." He takes a slow sip of his drink. "One day, if I'm lucky, I'll be gifted a child. Maybe then, at least a piece of me will carry on." His words hang in the air, filled with quiet yearning. My eyes drift back to Diaval and the egg in his hands. That same ache settles in my chest again.
"Okay, enough of the heavy shit." Khal's voice cuts through the room. He tosses his phone onto the table. "We've got bigger fish to fry." My heart skips a beat. I shift closer, eyes narrowing on the screen as a flood of messages pop up. The tension in his body makes my spine stiffen.
"What's happening?"
Khal sighs, the sound dragging out in defeat. His hand runs down his face. "Nothing good. Everything I set up to move my uncle's people? It's being undone. Apparently, there wasn't enough profit in what they found." A cold weight settles in my stomach.
"What does that mean for our plans?" Diaval asks, cradling the egg close to his chest.
Khal doesn't look up, his fingers already flying over his phone. "For safety's sake, we need to refuel and leave now. It's going to take them twenty-four hours to get here, then another three to reach Norburg. The sooner we're gone, the better." I don'tlike the way his face is shifting—the tightness around his eyes, the way his jaw clenches. My pulse quickens as I catch the faint flicker of his basilisk's serpentine slits phasing in and out. His emotions are slipping.
