Free Dragon Warrior by Meagan Hatfield Page B

thigh, Kestrel used the last reserve of strength to form a plea with his brother.
    â€œLeave me,” he panted, his eyes suddenly heavy. In fact, he noticed his entire body suddenly felt heavy. His eyelids slid closed, as if weighed down by tethers.
    â€œSorry, brother.” Falcon released his hold and backed up a pace. Kestrel forced his weak eyes open, watching as his brothers face shifted seamlessly into bone and scale. Glittering green scales nearly too brilliant to look at filled Kestrel’s blurring vision. Within seconds Falcon, now in the shape of a green dragon, towered over him.
    â€œYou saved my life tonight. Whether you like it or not, I’m repaying the favor.”
    A clawed hand curled around his waist, the long fingers tightening firmly yet tenderly around his middle, preparing to lift him.
    â€œFalcon, no…” Kestrel rasped.
    â€œDon’t talk. Just hang on.”

Chapter Two
    â€œIs he the only one?”
    Sparrow Rose pulled her blond ponytail from the collar of her white lab coat as she jogged toward the operating room.
    â€œYes.”
    She blinked up at the dragon lord who answered. Falcon, she believed they called him. Sparrow had worked on him before. In fact, as the flock’s only healer, she’d healed most of the dragon lords and legionnaires at one point or another.
    â€œNo one else was injured?” she clarified, half wanting to ask if he needed any attention. Caked blood coated his hands and the black combat pants he wore. Streaks of it smeared his temple as if he’d been running his fingers through his long black hair. However, he shook his head, his neck craning toward the auld women wheeling a gurney toward them. Sparrow focused on them, too, hoping the warrior injured wasn’t Tallon. The king and queen’s daughter had always been the only warrior she felt some kind of connection to. While she hated to think of any of them hurt, she especially worried about the female.
    â€œNo,” Falcon replied. Curt, clipped, concerned. Better than angry, she decided.
    â€œHe’s the only one.”
    For some reason, a knot formed in Sparrow’s throat. She swallowed it just as the rolling gurney stopped under the circular fluorescent light. At the sight of the man atop it, her heart thudded. Every shred of confidence she’d managed to piece together came unglued, crumbling like the fragments of her heart.
    She’d forgotten. There was one other warrior who intrigued her, whose well-being she prayed to the gods for each night.
    â€œThe captain?” she said on a disbelieving exhale.
    â€œYes.” He spoke the affirmation in a soft whisper that tugged at Sparrow’s already taut heartstrings.
    â€œCome, young lord.” One of the elderly sisters, dressed from toe to capped head in white, took the warrior by the arm, ushering him out of the ancient cavern. He went willingly, but paused at the archway. His broad shoulders rose and fell beneath his deep breath a moment before he looked over his shoulder, his piercing emerald eyes awash with grief. “He saved my life. Please do what you can to save his.”
    Sparrow glanced back at the captain. She knew she had to act fast, and yet couldn’t seem to move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t take her eyes off the man lying so broken and bloody before her. Disbelief shrouded her senses, warring with the inherent healer within her who wanted to get started saving his life. The fact she’d learned to accept as truth failed to register with the sight before her.
    Captain Grey had never been healed. In truth, part of her had begun to think of him as invincible. The ideal and perfect dragon warrior.
    To see him lying in the infirmary, his pale skin nearly the same color as his waist-length silver dragon lord mane—a mane sullied and stained with streaks of blood and Gods knew what else—sent an ocean of sickness churning over her, nearly drowning her. An