Page 213 of Fallen Nocturne

Small, yes. Damaged, yes. But fierce and protective. She’s ready to fight the world for her bonded rider.

The crowd stares.

Then someone laughs. It starts as a single voice from the fae side. A snicker and a giggle. Then more join in. The laughter spreads across the ravine.

“That’s her wyvern?” someone shouts. “It’s barely bigger than a horse!”

“Look at those contraptions on its wings! It can’t even fly properly!” an orkan warrior jests. “Sanguisyl will eat it for breakfast!”

The laughter grows and becomes a roar.

Sanguisyl is ancient, massive and scarred from a thousand battles. A legend made flesh, while Coral is young and damaged, a wyvern held together by mechanical braces.

It’s a joke.

But Finnbheara isn’t laughing. He’s staring at Coral with a strange expression. His hand has fallen to his side and his whole body has gone rigid.

“Finn?” Landon calls down. “Something wrong?”

Finnbheara doesn’t answer. He’s looking at Sanguisyl now.

The massive red wyvern’s burning eyes are fixed on Coral. Not with aggression or the predatory focus of a hunter seeing prey, but with something soft. Sanguisyl makes a sound, but it’s not a growl. It sounds almost like a croon.

Coral’s head snaps toward him. She abandons her protective stance over Rhianelle for just a moment, tilts her head, and makes a sound back, questioning and curious.

They recognize something in each other. Sanguisyl has been alive for centuries. An ancient wyvern who’s seen empires rise and fall. Who’s bonded with Finnbheara and served the fae royal line for generations. In all that time, he’s never found his mate.

Until now.

Until a small, pale wyvern with mechanical wings stood in a circle and refused to back down.

Could they be mates?

Finnbheara sees it too. I can tell by the way his face has drained of color. By the way his sword hand trembles.

“No,” he whispers.

But Coral isn’t thinking about mates. She isn’t thinking about anything except the fact that Rhianelle is hurt and this fae prince is the one who hurt her. The little wyvern turns back to Finnbheara and hisses, showing her teeth.

Behind her, I see Rhianelle moving. Her hands glow with soft light. She presses them against her broken shin. The bone begins to knit. The healing is incomplete and imperfect. But enough to stand and to fight. She’s healing herself while Coral provides the distraction.

“Enough,” Finnbheara says, and his voice is harder now. “Sanguisyl. End the small one. Quickly.”

Sanguisyl doesn’t move.

“Sanguisyl!” Finnbheara’s voice rises. “I command you! Attack!”

The massive red wyvern shifts uncomfortably. But he’s bonded to Finnbheara and has been for centuries. Loyalty runs deep. He opens his jaws.

Coral launches herself at the behemoth with a screech. She fights like a rabid dog. Her claws rake across Sanguisyl’s snout and her teeth snap at his eyes. She tries to climb onto him.

Sanguisyl isn’t fighting back. His jaws close and he shakes his head, trying to dislodge her. Coral digs her claws into his scales and climbs higher. She goes for his wings and tears at them. Her teeth find the delicate membrane between the wing bones and she bites.

Blood sprays across the circle. Coral fights with claws, teeth, and desperate fury, giving it everything she has.

Sanguisyl tries to shake her off without hurting her and backs away. The massive wyvern can’t fight back against his mate without breaking something deep and fundamental in himself.

“Gods,” Shade whispers beside me. “He’s letting her tear him apart.”