Likely, but not for sure.
Hesitation slowed me, and we probably sat there too long. Long enough that Maks started shooting me looks with his eyebrows so high, they almost hit his hairline. I closed my eyes and let myself listen to the cat inside me. She was curious, pushing me to go look. My instincts when I’d listened to them had rarely been good in the past, but something told me I had to check out the noise.
I flexed my jaw, decision made. “Stay here. I’m going to see what’s going on.”
“Shouldn’t we let them be distracted and keep moving? This could work to our advantage, Zam. Whatever is going on is keeping them away from us.” Maks’s voice was barely above a whisper. “You just said we didn’t need to draw attention to us. You snooping around could do just that!”
He was right, but there was something about the sound that drew me forward. The cry of pain struck a chord in me I couldn’t deny. I slid off Balder’s back and handed his reins to Maks. “Keep north along the borderline of the trees. If a dragon comes out before I get back to you, the black jewel for our passage is in my bedroll.”
“Wait. And what happens if you get killed?” He made a grab for me but I dodged his hand with ease.
I grinned widely, flashing my pointed canines I rarely showed off. “Trust me, I won’t be.”
His eyebrows shot up again and I turned my back on him, hurrying through the skiff of snow. I had my kukri twins on my thighs, and the flail was strapped to my back. Lucky for me when I shifted to my feline form my weapons and clothes shifted with me, becoming a chain around my neck woven with whatever color cloth my clothes were. A perk the bigger shifters didn’t have. They all went naked when they shifted and often lost their weapons. My weapons became a part of the chain as far as I knew.
I glanced back as I stepped under the cover of the trees. Maks had done as I asked and continued onward. Which was good. Because I didn’t like anyone seeing my shifted form and realizing just how small and weak I truly was.
Shame curled around me and I batted it away as best I could. Being from a lion pride should have meant I had power and strength to spare, that I should have been a literal force to be reckoned with. But I’d gotten the shit end of the barrel when it came to my other form. Much as I wanted to believe it was the Jinn’s fault, there was the chance I was just born broken.
How long had it been since I’d shifted into my animal form? Over a year, at least. I didn’t like to use it much, the embarrassment it brought was heavier than any weight on my shoulders.
I crouched to the ground and put my hands into the snow, flexed my fingers and let the change come. For me, it was like opening a door and stepping through. One side was my human form, and the other my feline.
My bones adjusted quickly, losing mass and density; my skin rippled and was quickly covered in a thick black fur that insulated me from the cold better than any coat. I blinked and was looking at the world from about two feet high. The first of my two curses in all its glory. That I would never shift into anything but a measly black house cat. I thought when I was younger I’d grow out of it. But that hadn’t been the case. This was who I was, through and through.
There would be no lion form for me, no fearsome predator that would be able to take on the most fearsome enemies with a roar and the swipe of a paw.
Whether my small form was the Jinn’s fault or not, it didn’t change my opinion of them.
The Jinn were assholes of the greatest kind to add a second curse to the one I’d been born with.
Chapter Six
I tried to tell myself that my shifted form was not all bad. I tried to think of the ways it could have perks over being a true lion. Keeping my clothes and weapons was good. The bigger shifters didn’t have that ability; buck naked in the snow was no way to swing things if you didn’t have to.
The one other half-decent thing about being a house cat was the sneak factor. Ten points for me there. To the outside world, I made out like I had the better end of the deal, that being a house cat shifter was brilliant, a fucking glorious reality that everyone should’ve been jealous of.
The truth was a lot different, of course. I’d have given up those perks in an instant if offered the chance to be a lion in truth, to be able to stand with those of my pride, without shame and weakness.
I crept through the snowy forest with no sound, my small paws making indents in the top crust of snow but no true noise. I hurried toward the cries that grew louder with each step.
Someone was being hurt, for sure . . . but there were other bigger voices now.
“Aww, look at the runt. Are you crying, Lila the Gnat?” That voice was thick, male, rumbling and sounded like it needed to choke up a foot-long snot log.
I slowed my pace, creeping up behind a big pine tree where the sap had exploded from the cold and ran down the bark. There were several marks where oversized teeth had dug into the trunk to get at the sap. The heavy scent of the tree should help me stay off the radar of whoever was in the clearing. I peered around the thick trunk to see what was going on.
Curiosity killed the cat was not a saying for nothing.
In front of me were three dragons about the size of Balder. Two of them were shades of green and brown with traces of gold scales scattered along their spines and on the front of their legs. Eyes of deepest brown, they were predatory in a way I’d only ever seen in hawks and eagles. Like they could see right through you if they chose. Their wings were not very big, which told me they were land-bound.
This close to the edge of their territory along with their coloring made me think the two were Grasslanders. Dragons that lived amongst the trees, using branches and leaves as camouflage to hunt for their food. No fire, and no acid in their mouths, as far as I knew, but they did have a serious venom if they got their teeth on you. Venom that paralyzed but didn’t kill. The third one was black and blue and had big wings that laid over his back. He was a flier. Probably a good chance he was one of the elemental dragons. I curled back my lips into a low hiss, not liking the odds for whatever it was they were bullying.
The three large dragons stood in a circle around something my size. I frowned and squinted.
What I was seeing couldn’t be right. Not possible.
There were no dragons that small, yet that was exactly what was in the middle of their circle. A dragon with blue, gray, and silver markings, no bigger than the average house cat, trembling in the snow at the feet of the bigger dragons as she fought to keep away from them. She bared her teeth, crouching and lunging, as she tried to keep her eyes on all three at once.
“Go flounce yourself,” the little dragon—Lila, I assumed—snapped. She spun in a circle, her minuscule teeth flashing. One of the other dragons tipped his head back and laughed.
“You ain’t even got a good amount of poison, runt, barely enough to kill a bug. What are you going to do, nip at my toes?”
She was a sap sucker? She was all the wrong colors. But I didn’t doubt them. They would know what she was capable of, not me. I did not need any of that venom on my skin. I crinkled up my nose and took a step back, my eyes still on them as I put distance between us.
Meddling in the affairs of dragons was not smart. Not if you liked the placement of your head on your shoulders as it was. The little dragon would have to fight her way out to show her worth. I knew the feeling, trying to prove yourself when you were the smallest kid on the block. But it would make her stronger and I wouldn’t take that from her. Being the smallest meant you had to fight harder, meaner, and smarter.
“Just kill her already,” the biggest of the three dragons said, the one with the wings.
“Ahh, but I want to have some fun first. They didn’t say we couldn’t play with her. I want to pull her wings off and see if she looks like a snake with legs.”
My feet stopped moving and a ripple of chills slid down my spine. Lila spun and launched into the air, but was batted down before she rose more than a few feet. I felt the snarl rolling up my throat and I couldn’t stop it. The desire to protect those who needed defending was as ingrained in me as my ability to shift. I might only be a house cat in form, but the lion in me didn’t like odds stacked like this.
Damn it.
Part of my brain tried to stop me, told me I was an idiot, that there was no way I could save her. But I had to try.