In the last hour, as they’d moved closer and closer to her home, Elina had become more and more silent, sullen, and tense. So tense, Celyn hadn’t said much to her. Something told him she didn’t want to hear anything at the moment and that asking her his usual range of questions about what he saw around him would only upset her.

Dismounting from his horse, Celyn grabbed the reins of Elina’s. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“I am fine,” she lied and dismounted from her own tiny horse. “Remember, do not talk of what you are here.”

“Don’t worry. I have no intention.”

“And no questions. Just watch. Hopefully, I will be able to send you back to Queen Annwyl with good news.”

Shocked by that, Celyn stammered out “You’re not coming back with me. . . . I mean, uh, well . . .” He shook his head to get hold of himself. “I mean, to discuss the outcome with Annwyl yourself?”

“I am sure that will not be option.”

Celyn should have known that, but he hadn’t thought much about it. He’d been too busy riding his horse all day . . . and Elina all night. The last thing he’d worried about was that this could be the last he’d see of her. And the thought that it was did not make him happy.

“I wish I’d known,” he attempted to joke. “I would have tried to make last night more special. With flowers or something.”

She tried to smile, but it was unsuccessful.

“Elina, talk to me. What is it?”

She let out a breath. “Sorry.” The confident, opinionated, curious woman he’d known for days was gone. Now she was tense, terse . . . and afraid. He hadn’t seen her this bad since the night he’d awakened her from that dream. Now he was wondering if that had been what she’d been dreaming of. Returning here to meet the commander of her tribe.

That said a lot about the woman she was going to face, because he’d never seen Elina this terrified. Aye, she was terrified. Even when he’d plopped her down in front of the most feared She-dragon in all the worlds, he’d never seen her so.

“Just . . . less talk now. Please,” she softly begged.

“Of course.” She started to turn away, but Celyn quickly placed his hand on her shoulder. “But . . . if you need me to do anything—anything at all, Elina—you just let me know. Understand? I’m right here.”

She nodded but said nothing else.

With a deep breath that Celyn found telling, Elina began walking and Celyn followed.

They passed round homes made of wood frames surrounded by a material Celyn didn’t recognize. There was a hole in the middle of each one of the structures and smoke came from most of them. He had to admit that though the structures looked flimsy, the mighty wind blowing across the Steppes didn’t seem to affect them. From what Elina had told him during one of their many question-and-answer sessions, these structures were not only incredibly sturdy, they could be disassembled and ready to move in less than an hour. That kind of preparedness was something Celyn had only seen from the military.

As they walked through the camps, people emerged from their huts. Some, mostly men, held babies; all were armed to some degree. Dogs ran between the huts, and horses grazed where they liked.

His father had been right. This was not an easy life, and the people and dragons of this land probably did consider the Southlanders spoiled and lazy. But that was okay. Celyn would rather be spoiled and lazy than be one of several husbands.

The pair was watched closely as they walked by. No. That wasn’t accurate. They weren’t watched. . . . He was watched as he walked by. Watched closely.

In time, they neared a group of structures occupied by a lot of white-blond, blue-eyed Riders, and Celyn immediately knew this was Elina’s family. They all looked like her, just different shapes, sizes, and sexes.

As they continued on, a woman whose head and face were covered by a protective scarf strode up to them. She had a bow and an hourglass quiver attached to her back, a short sword sheathed at her side, and several knives strapped to the belt hanging from her waist.

As the female moved in, she rammed her shoulder into Elina’s. Celyn stopped and immediately rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, the instincts he’d honed to protect the Dragon Queen coming into play now with Elina.

Elina shoved the woman back, but what Celyn thought was about to turn into a fight turned into a strong hug.

Finally, the woman stepped back and pulled the scarf from her face. Her nose was a little longer than Elina’s and she had quite a few battle scars on her face and neck, but these two females were related. He’d guess sisters.

But once the hug ended . . . the arguing began.

And even though he couldn’t understand a word that was said, Celyn knew he’d been right.

Definitely sisters.

“You are the biggest fool I’ve ever known, Elina Shestakova!” Kachka barked at her.

“I missed you, too, sister.” In fact, Kachka had been the only one she’d actually missed. These beautiful Steppes lands and her dear sister, Kachka, who was now yelling at her.

“Do not be so ridiculous, Elina! You know you never should have returned here. Never!”

“You thought I’d not only fail in my quest, but that I’d die.”

“I thought you’d run, you delusional cow!”

Elina was shocked that her sister, this sister, would say such a thing. “Run? Me? You think so little of me? Of my honor?”