Hatchling's Mate

By Helen Henderson

Action & adventure, Fantasy, Romance

Paperback, eBook

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1 mins


Lexii’s short, “Ohh,” accompanied her mount’s drop to its knees. Her louder, “No!” was overshadowed by the creak of leather as she clambered from the saddle. The seidheirn rolled onto its side. It struggled to get up, then with a last snuffle ceased moving. Feathered darts colored the gray hide. More covered the legs of Lexii’s breeches.

The ether burned with the force of Glyn’s call to Kynan and Uaine. And, despite knowing he was too far away to help, she reached out to Talann. < Under attack. Lexii’s mare is down. Buar will bring her to you.>

Glyn jumped from the saddle, grabbed the weaving Lexii, and threw her into Buar’s saddle. “Buar, go to Uaine,” Glyn yelled. “Get Lexii to safety.”

Bugling defiance, the mare took a single leap. Gray blurred with dust and the seidheirn galloped away at the speed only achieved by its kind.

In the short time it had taken to get Lexii on her way, the attackers had closed the distance and were within striking range. A burly man in battered armor strode from the dozen pursuers now lined up before Glyn. Thick skin of a cross-shaped scar on his forehead marked him as an outcast from a mercenary troop.

The men muttered amongst themselves. A name rose giving Glyn the identity of the leader, “Marbh.”

She tensed for a fight. No matter the cost, time had to be given Lexii to reach the protection of Kynan and the others. “I’m sorry, Lexii,” she whispered.

Marbh’s scan took in Glyn’s armor and well-cared for sword. He called out six names and pointed at Glyn. “Kill him,” he ordered. Those selected moved forward in trained unison. “And the rest of you, come with me. That dragon scum will not escape.” Without a backward glance, the leader of the raiders turned and headed after Lexii.

Blocked and unable to prevent their leaving, Glyn spun to face the remaining soldiers. One threw a loop over her chest, trapping her arms. Light flashed off her blade. The sharp metal sliced through the rope and it fell away. Another soldier lifted a long wooden tube to his lips sending a yellow-tipped dart clanging against the metal plate of her armor. It stuck in the leather and she pulled it out.

A second and a third flew through the air. These didn’t hit metal or leather, but tender skin.

Weaving against the effect of the drugs, she kept her blade lifted. “I’m not down,” she snarled.



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