"My name is Rylee, and I am a Tracker."
When children go missing, and the Humans have no leads, I'm the one they call. I am their last hope in bringing home the lost ones. I salvage what they cannot.
When the dust settles, my heart feels as though it will never be pieced back together. But there are too many lives riding on my ability to function at my best.
So I push through. And I find that I still have some fight left in me.
Now I have one last task before I can rest: to find the simple ingredients of a spell. A spell that will help heal much of my wounds.
But it is not only my injuries that I have to stitch closed. My sister's wounds have broken open . . . and perhaps most surprising of all so do another vampire's.
Rylee Adamson, Tome 8.5 : Stitched
THE FOUR OF us slid off Blaz’s back as he reared up and spread his wings. His neck arched back as if he would blast the intruder with his flames. A flash of red and gold, violet eyes, and a wingspan that matched Blaz’s, stunned me. A dragon, yes, but one we knew well. “Ophelia, what the fuck are you doing here?”
The female dragon ducked her head, drawing closer, but keeping her body in a submissive posture. I came here to heal.
Blaz snorted. You mean to hide.
Her violet eyes blazed and she slammed her head upward and into his exposed throat, sending him tumbling backward. I may no longer have a rider, but I can still kick your ass, Blaz.
Their argument was broadcasted to all of us by the look on Erik’s and Coyote’s faces. Erik was fighting a smile, and Coyote just shook his head as he muttered, “Dragons.”
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