As much as he was a bastard bad boy, who thought he could do whatever he wanted, he was her bad boy, and this was something she wasn’t ready to let go, not now, not ever.
I love you. The words echoed in her head, not hers but mirrored by her. She stilled for a moment, looking at the mighty blue-black dragon. Now and forever, the voice said again, unmistakably Devon’s.
“I love you too,” she mouthed quietly, green eyes shimmering with worry. Yes, she did love him. There was little doubt in her mind. It had come suddenly and out of the blue, but being ripped from his side showed her that she couldn’t be without him, nor wanted to.
“Quiet,” Jolly raged, squeezing her arm tighter with the hand that wasn’t holding the blade. “Just watch. This is the greatest battle you will see in all your time, and finally, the ancient injustice will be undone. Your puny little human brain can’t comprehend this, but there has been a great wrong done here, and finally, it will be set right!” Jolly said, his voice reverent.
A hiss had entered it, now sounding more reptilian than ever. If she could have looked over her shoulder, she was sure that his expression would have shown all the endless love he must have felt for the Redblades, finally allowed out of its hiding. He disgusted her, though on some small scale, she could understand him – he didn’t know any better than to believe what he believed.
She didn’t have any more time to worry about Jolly or his kin. The dragons had ascended into the sky now and were circling one another. Gemma could see Devon’s chest expanding, and then, marked by a yelp of surprise, she watched him douse Remington in blue-red flames, the fire so hot she could feel it on the ground. Jolly took a step back, pulling her under an awning on the roof to protect them from the heat, though she hadn’t missed the gasp he gave when Devon attacked first.
The flames seemed to dance around Remington for far longer than the initial breath would have suggested, but the big red dragon flew out of them, smoke billowing around him. She could see that the tips of his wings were a bit scorched and his maw marred with soot. Thick black smoke now rose from Devon’s nostrils, so different from the hazy gray plume she had got used to seeing when he was aggravated. Neither one of them was toying around anymore. This was to the death, and she didn’t need it to be spelled out for her to understand it.
Her hands gripped into fists as she watched the dragons begin their tormenting dance, circling one another and attacking where they could. The first breath of fire from Remington surrounded Devon for the scantest of moments, but the blue-black dragon escaped it quickly with only a mark on his belly where the flames had hit hardest.
When they roared, it felt like the sky would come tumbling down on the ground – epic, deathly screams that brought forth nightmares Gemma didn’t even know she had.
Somewhere in the human subconscious, she felt suddenly very vulnerable, both because she was facing these mighty beasts and because the one she loved was fighting for his life. For both of their lives, really. Because would it really be life without him there?
The dragons flew so high sometimes that it was hard to see them and then swooped down so low she was sure they would take pieces of the mansion with them. Roars and growls made the gorge tremble, and when they tumbled down from the skies, she thought they would barely fit between the rocky walls. She could see the bright white of their long teeth, snapping at one another in desperate attempt to tear flesh from limb. This wasn’t just for show.
She knew from the books she had read that when dragons fought for dominance, it hardly ever went further than peacocking around one another, showing the opponent who was bigger, stronger and had hotter flames. Now, they had abandoned any pretense of it being a battle that could be easily settled. Gemma watched with cold shivers running through her as Remington lunged for Devon in the sky, catching one of his legs between his jaws and thrashing at it, his long neck making sickly undulating movements as he ripped at the scales.
Devon screeched, and Gemma’s heart ached for him, almost sensing his pain.
Devon pushed him back by covering him in flames again, catching the back of the red dragon, scorching the ends of his leathery wings and ripping at them. Gemma gasped as she saw a tear forming in one of them. Remington pulled back, one wing now weaker than the other. Both of their maws were contorted in horrific snarls, and Remignton’s teeth were marked with blue blood, the wound on Devon’s foot seeping with it.
“Oh my god, please be alright,” Gemma begged to no one in particular when they dove for one another again.
She saw them lock in the air, teeth and claws grabbing and gnashing at one another, their wings almost useless as they spiraled down together. Only at the very last moment, when Gemma was sure they would crash into the walls of the canyon, did they pull up again, the prehistoric beasts still holding onto each other. Her breath hitched as she saw new wounds on both of them, a large gash in Devon’s long tail and Remington’s shoulder scraped and gushing blood.