Prologue
Othin, Alpha of the Onyx Aerie pack...or, at least, what had once been the Onyx Aerie pack… looked from the four scouts he had sent out a week ago to the broken man they held between them. Blessedly, night had fallen and he preferred the softer lights of the old lanterns to the newer oils the pack burned these days. The result was that his tent was filled with shadow. Even where light prevailed, the effect was a softer caress than the brilliance that made the others feel secure. But even the shadows could not hide the Dragon Lord's condition.
“And you found him far from the Aerie?” He knew the answer, but he found himself asking once more. When he had commissioned the scouts to gain information on the Onyx Aerie, on Celcath, and the snake-tongued Grim, the last thing he expected was that they would return to him dragging a Lord on his death bed. One that was distinctly not from the Onyx Aerie.
“Miles from it. In the center of a clearing,” Xainir, his lead scout nodded. “Actually, we thought he was carrion until we neared. There isn't much left of him that has been spared.”
That much was true. Whomever had bested this Lord had done a thorough job of ensuring he suffered for it. What, though, would a strange Lord be doing so far from his own Aerie?
Othin strode forward until he was in front of the slumped figure. Gently, but with a wariness that being around such an enemy called for, he prodded the man.
Satisfied he wasn't about to wake, Othin pulled open an eyelid.
“Amber.”
“As we said, Alpha.” The words were carefully toned. No admonition for the Alpha from an underling, but they neared the insolence that would denote a challenge. Xainir was testing the waters.
“The Amber Aerie is nearly an entire day from the Onyx by foot. There is no way he wouldn't know that he reached and crossed the boundary.” He paced the small space he had allotted between a sturdy wooden table and the tent's door. The scouts looked at him without answer. It was foolishness, coupled with the late hour that had him speak aloud in the first place.
An Amber Aerie Lord in Onyx Aerie territory. This put him in a position he would much rather have avoided. Ruefully, he admitted to himself it would have been better if his scouts had not found the man at all. But they had, and now he was faced with a decision. One that would affect the entire pack.
He looked up again at the broken man that just complicated his life. Enemy or friend? With Dragon Lords, it could be either. But dare he risk finding out?