#narene

Dorian only held her tighter, and let Manon lean on him for as long as she needed, Abraxos staring toward that blasted bit of earth on the plain, toward the mate who would never return, while the city below celebrated.

-

Abraxos and Narene❤️

The dark-haired Crochan was staring toward the ring of wyverns, just where Glennis had said she’d be. Asterin cleared he throat, and the witch turned, her olive-skinned face tightening.

But she didn’t sneer. Didn’t hiss.

Mission done, Asterin turned away. But Manon said to the Crochan, jerking her chin toward the wyverns, “It’s different from using the brooms. Faster, deadlier, but you also have to feed and water them.” Karsyn’s green eyes were wary—but curious. She glanced again at the wyverns huddled against the cold, Asterin’s blue mare pressed into Abraxos’s side, his wing draped over her.

Manon said, “Erawan made them, using methods we’re not quite sure of. He took an ancient template and brought it to life.” For there had been wyverns in Adarlan before—long ago. “He meant to breed a host of thoughtless killers, but some did not turn out as such.” Asterin kept quiet for once.

Karsyn spoke at last. “Your wyvern seems like more of a dog than anything.” Itwas not an insult, Manon reminded herself. The Crochans kept dogs as pets.

Adored them, as humans did. “His name is Abraxos,” Manon said. “He is… different.”

“He and the blue one are mates.”

Asterin started. “They’re what?” The Crochan pointed to the blue mare huddled beside Abraxos.

“He is smaller, yet he dotes onher. Nuzzles her when no one is looking.” Manon exchanged a glance with Asterin. Their mounts incessantly flirted, yes, but to mate—

....

When Karsyn was gone, Asterin remained staring at Abraxos and Narene, scratching her hair.

That Abraxos had a mate.

Abraxos had a mate and now she’s dead.