Paul smiled down at the sweet, delicate face of his mate. It was bruised, dirty, and tear-stained and he had never, ever seen anything more beautiful. It had been easier than he expected to sneak through the camp. His dragon had been true to his word about being light on his feet – for the most part. Paul had brought only a small amount of Morian’s symbiot with him, not wanting to take a chance of it being injured if Raffvin had more of his twisted essence hanging around.
He had landed just inside the outer rim of the camp, and he wove his way through the maze of tents that were set up. He noticed a variety of species within the mix. Most were of the purple species that had attacked them earlier.
There were a few Sarafin, and of course, a Valdier or two. He recognized most of the species
