I watch my mate sobbing over my brother. We had tried, all of us had tried to heal him. We can mend cuts and broken bones, but we can’t replace scales that have been brutally whipped from a dragon’s body.
My mother’s distress had been bad enough. Then there had been my father, who was causing the ground to shake and shift, only balanced by Merethyl’s own earth element, keeping him steady. And now, I have to watch my mate fall apart because her dragon, my brother, has been whipped so hard that he may never fly again.
We were, at least, able to heal his nerve endings, but without scales, flying would be too painful and he would never be able to carry Eliane on his back again. When Yhendorn and Kenna arrived, I asked him if his books had anything in them about dragons regrowing scales. He d
