On Wings: A Reverse Harem Dragon Shifter Romance (Her Secret Menagerie Book 2)

by Katelyn Beckett

  Oh, right.

  I rubbed my hands together and sat, staring off at nothing as the dragons moved around me. The ritual. Magic. Proper, large-scale magic intended to bring literal life into the world. I'd done it once, accidentally, in a flash. But five times over? What if it killed me? That much energy flowing through a person was an awful lot to ask after the day I'd already had.

  Despite the whole thing we'd just gone through, my phone sat in my pocket. I picked it up and hit Nicole's speed dial, not thinking of the time of early morning it was. Unsurprisingly, she didn't answer. Besides; we'd just seen her railing Doctor Sonnet. She was probably busy trying to figure out what the hell had happened to interrupt her fun there at the museum.

  Instead, I ended up folding my hands together. I wasn't the praying sort; which should go without saying. But I was the relatively hopeful sort. Even in the end, when the doctors had said Mom had no chance, I'd still bothered to hope that she would rally again. I'd tried to hold on to that after she'd passed, but it'd been difficult.

  So many people in the scientific community were downers. They wanted everything to be cold, hard fact and I wasn't objecting to that; but maybe they needed to hope for a better day ahead. Or hope that they'd find something instead of repeating that the odds were low that they'd ever see a certain impressive object again.

  I could just imagine the professors at the museum sighing over the loss of the opals. They'd be impossible to work with for the next few months, assuming I got off with everything free and clear.

  It was hard to do after so many years of not doing it, but I managed to capture my feelings and use them to project my thoughts into whatever was out there. Silently, I asked my mom to help me with the spell. I asked her to prove to me that I wasn't crazy, that everything was really happening; that I'd gotten to ride a dragon. That I would again in the future.

  When I opened my eyes, the room was dark but for five white candles surrounding the eggs. Oils I didn't recognize had been used to anoint each candle, then each egg. I understood the spell more or less. I was to use the points of fire as a guide to funnel magic through and light each life inside the egg. Assuming I did it correctly, the eggs would pop open. Little dragons would come rushing out.

  Eskal, Iyadre, Vadriq, and Nariti would be fathers.

  And I wouldn't have to worry about how I was going to pay off my mom's hospital bills. Maybe I could even afford to move into my own apartment back home.

  But it was time to focus; and focus I did, though it was incredibly difficult to start. I stared into the candles until their image burned into my eyes. I blinked the tears away and inhaled, exhaled, and inhaled again. The fire danced in my vision, tempting and offering so much. There were no words I could gather, no thought that allowed me to do what needed to be done. Instead, I focused on the candles.

  Then I breathed life into the eggs. I willed them to crack, to shatter right then and there. It was their time to be born, their time of becoming. I knew it would work, knew that I was a witch of power and skill. Though I was a little rusty, this was something that any spell slinger could do. I'd just been the only one around when they needed me.

  When they needed me.

  That touched my heart and kept going. I focused on the eggs and felt something touch my consciousness. A keening not unlike the whelp in the crate drew me in, tugged me along, and vanished.

  The candles died with a gust of wind that came from nowhere. Without the help of the dragons, the lights came back up in the house. I looked around, frowning, then looked back at the perfectly smooth eggs still sitting in front of me.

  Eskal hurried forward, ignoring the sizzling of the still-hot wicks against the undersides of his arms. He snatched up the black egg and looked it over.

  I fell back to the couch, exhausted. But the last thing I saw before my eyes fluttered closed were the tears in Eskal's eyes, and the heartbreak on his face.

  I'd fucked it up.

  They hadn't needed me, after all.

  Chapter 12

  Eskal

  Olivia fell asleep on the couch as I examined each egg, looking for any fracture, any crack.

  Any sign of hope.

  Nothing. The shells remained as unbroken as they had been before we had retrieved them. Had we revealed the supernatural world to a handful of humans only for the universe to tell us that we were not worthy of the whelps within those eggs?

  I swallowed down the tears. Grown men do not cry over small matters such as it was, nor do dragons. The black egg, as dark as my scales, reflected my face in the bright lights of the living room. I sniffed and wiped away the single drop that rolled down my cheek.

  "If you will pardon me," I whispered, then left the room before any of my flight could swarm the nest.

  Would it have worked if it had been another woman? Another man? I was unclear on the exact requirements of the ritual. It was a simple thing, for all I knew. The candles awoke our inner fires. They drew us from the sleep within the shell, like a rooster's crow once brought farmers from their beds.

  Had they been the wrong sort of candle? Did they require lighting with flint and steel? I didn't know. There was so much I was uncertain of.

  The omega matriarchs of our flights taught the younger males how to prepare nests for awakenings. But Mother had always kept promising to teach us later, never allowing us to see what happened when her human mates helped her to bring us into being.

  I closed the door to the library and sat among the books. A thousand titles, all beautiful and holding wonderful stories within them. Some charted our migration throughout the world. Others told stories of us roasting innocents and running away with their treasure or their women. Most were incorrect about that, but I'd known a drake or two who had been interested in such matters.

  None of them offered the advice I needed. And I certainly wasn't about to call Alashia and admit that we had failed the eggs. She would attempt to pressure us into giving them over to her; perhaps the whelp as well. She would say that we were unworthy, that the great Mother had decided we were not ready to bear young.

  I wished I was angry my little witch. How could I be? She had gone above and beyond her calling to assist us. She had done everything in her power to gather the eggs, to attempt to hatch them. In the end, she had been so tired that she had collapsed as soon as the ritual was complete.

  Perhaps she was ready to be a mother. That was why she had hatched her own egg. I stared at the ceiling, letting it blur. The tears didn't matter if I was by myself, and no one was about to disturb me in the silent reaches of my library. I dashed them away again when they became too much, wiping the back of my hand on my robe.

  How long did the eggs have to remain in stasis until we were ready? Until we had managed to hatch them? It was unfair to them, as it was unfair to us. They deserved life, every shred of it. We dragons were fading from the minds of mortals. Did we have to cause a ruckus to invoke the whelps?

  If buildings had to fall, I would do it. I would expose every human in the world to dragonkind once again, make the magic flow crimson with their blood, if that was what it took to bring my young nestmates to life. I dug claws into my chair and growled. In the dark of the night, in the skies above under which the humans slept, fire would come down in a blazing sheet that swept the lot of them from their miserable lives.

  And then, I would ask Olivia to perform the ritual again.

  If she failed, I would request she do it again. And again. As many times as it took until the eggs cracked.

  In times long before mine, humans had cast themselves into our flames as sacrifices. It was said that we ate them, though I doubted it. Still. If that was what it was to bring our children into the world...

  Yet, Olivia had managed it with an accidental touch. Why? Why had our eggs stayed whole? Why, why, why?

  There came a knocking upon my chamber door.

  I wiped my face clean with the edge of the robe and sniffed to clear my nose. "Yes."

  She
stepped through the door and watched me, a mug of tea in her hands. The dark circles under her eyes were my fault and for nothing. She had been the one I had believed would bring me the eggs of my ancestors, the only family I truly had.

  And yet.

  Olivia walked to me and offered me the tea. She sat down beside me and waited until I'd had a sip. "I'm sorry I couldn't hatch your eggs for you."

  "You did nothing wrong. I don't know what happened," I said. I recognized the herbs and spices in the tea itself; Iyadre's special soothing blend. I had no doubt he had sent it, and her, to try to work me into a better state of mind.

  She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I still didn't fulfill my end of the bargain. If you give me some time, maybe I can try again. Maybe it's just because I'm tired."

  "Exhaustion should have nothing to do with it. Olivia, you made the attempt," I said, frowning at her. "You are owed your due. You did for us what no other human in this area could. I respect that."

  "For all you're still disappointed."

  I looked into the tea, refusing to meet her gaze. "It isn't something I can fully explain to you."

  "You could give it a try?"

  I drank the tea down straight and sat it on my side table, folding my hands over my stomach. She had done something she didn't want to do, for me. Though she had benefited from our deal as well, they were much smaller improvements than that which she had paid. The comfort of her mind, the use of her body, the work of concentration, were all exceptional for all she had failed. Humans do not come by magic in any easy way and the practice of it is often hard on them. It was likely why she had responded as she had.

  "Would you think less of me if I said I wished to have a family?" I asked, hesitantly peering up at her.

  She blinked at me. "Well, no. But you have one, right? The guys out there?"

  "Well enough in general terms, but I have no mate. It is likely that I never will. There is a significant lack of draconic omegas in the world. That nest holds the future to the Nightflight. If an omega were to hatch-"

  Her face screwed up in disgust. "It's a baby. You're trying to hatch a mate for yourself out of that nest?"

  "No," I said, holding up a hand. "Let me finish. It is common to offer omegas to nearby flights. The omegas choose their alpha mate or mates from a pool selected by their birth flight. Should we hatch an omega, she or he would be allowed to choose a flight of their own in time. And then we would be due one as well."

  "It still sounds like you're just selling them off."

  I shook my head. "They choose to move on so they can make lives for themselves. Roving bands of alphas are common. Omegas are not. They have every choice to avoid such an arrangement if they desire it. No one forces them to do anything. But most omegas desire nests, comforts, and alphas to take care of them. No matter what sex they are, they are treated like royalty by those who love them. And who wouldn't want a life like that?"

  "Me."

  I frowned at her.

  "I don't want to be a pampered princess. If I wanted that, I could have gotten married to some guy my mom picked out years ago. I want to be a contributing member of society," she said, continuing. "I want to do something with my life, even if my contribution doesn't have my name on it."

  "Omegas aren't chained to a nursery," I told her. "They nest, but they find other things to do. Other hobbies. They have lives; they're simply never in need or worried for that which gives them comfort. Not too unlike our arrangement as it stands."

  And I realized what I'd just said. My breath caught in my throat and I stared at her as if she were suddenly on fire.

  "You just made it sound like they were just baby factories is all," she said and shrugged.

  I watched her as if I'd seen her for the first time. How could I have been so stupid? When I'd told Iyadre that I thought she was meant for us, I hadn't meant it in that way. I had only thought she was to be the one who hatched the eggs. We could send her on her way afterward, each party pleased with the other.

  The scent of her magic filled the room and I was intoxicated. I closed my eyes and leaned back in the chair, head tipping back. As much as I fought it, the harder it became to concentrate. I enjoyed material goods, I reminded myself. I enjoyed those items I could touch, cherish, the things that had value to others. The belongings that had the highest value were good simply because they maintained that value and offered it to further deals in the future, or to buy the power I required; when I required it.

  Magic was different.

  Imagine, if you would. You go to a restaurant that serves your favorite dish. Yet, when you arrive, it is no longer served. While the food is still of premium quality, you find that no one else in the area serves that dish, either. This frustrates you. Though the dish requires skill, you still desire it. You crave it.

  No one has it.

  For me, that was magic. I wasn't about to eat the girl, but I was sorely tempted to keep her for as long as I could. Human right and decency required that I, eventually, let her go. Yet I wondered if it would be possible to keep her a little longer than she wished.

  "Did you enjoy the flight?"

  She blinked at me. "It's not something I have a lot of experience with. You don't exactly spend every day on the back of a dragon."

  "You missed the question. Did you enjoy it? And would you want to fly again at some point?"

  Her eyes lit up and I knew I had her. She held the future of the eggs in her hands, yet I could bribe her with this. It was something she could get nowhere else.

  Well.

  The other dragons could offer her the same. Yet, I somehow doubted that they would. I looked out at the dawning morning and sighed. "You've gotten no rest. You should skip work today and come with us. We can try the eggs again once you've slept, though I believe I'm the one missing some crucial ingredient."

  "What, you think you forgot something in your own ritual?" she asked.

  Her tone was light, gentle. Most would have been cruel. "It is possible. As I've said; eggs are rare enough that I am no expert in the hatching of them. In truth, this would be the first nest I have hatched in a very long time."

  It wasn't entirely a lie, I excused myself. I had been present when Mother had hatched the nest before this one, though I had been too young to do much to help. I strained to remember the words the wizard said, the way that he mimicked my mother's movements. I knew there was fire involved. I remembered the smoke from the candles.

  The rest was lost to time.

  "Could you ask someone about it?"

  "Not without endangering the nest. The only female dragon I trusted was my mother-"

  "Why not ask her?"

  I couldn't yell at her, but I wanted to recoil. I wanted to leave the room, go to my bedroom, and lock the door. There is a silly thing that humans do when they are upset. They close their eyes and count to ten. I counted to fifty in short order and still tore a new hole in the armrest of my chair. "You cannot ask the dead favors, Olivia. That is beyond even my capability."

  "I'm so sorry," she said, but it sounded as if she meant it.

  She was not the first human who had questioned me about my family. I typically told them it was none of their business or I explained that my family had died in a tragic accident. Few of those who did business with me came to realize that my nestmates were employed by me.

  The company, thankfully, was very good at running itself. They knew I was distracted attaining the opals that had been found on the property. No calls, no curiosities, had come through for us throughout the past few days. All the better that the company maintain a certain distance for the moment. If we were somehow identified by the security guards, we may require a short sale of the company for the betterment of it. Of course, we had plans and procedures for that sort of thing.

  There was a reason Vadriq had stayed home to watch over a sleeping child.

  "My mother died a while back, too," Olivia said.

  I frowned. "What happened?" Humans were often
short-lived but Olivia was too young to have lost a mother through natural means, by my measure.

  "It's the reason I distanced myself from this whole community. She tried spells instead of actual medicine. It didn't work out for her in the end and I abandoned my spell craft," she looked up at me and sighed. "It's hard to practice something that you don't believe in, when belief is one the major factors that makes it work."

  My frown deepened. "But you believe in your magic now?"

  "I don't know. Everything that's happened in the past few days; it's crazy. One day I'm busy digging up whatever we can find at the new Fontaine factory, next thing I know I'm swept up by a bunch of dragons, stealing from the only people who would give me a job-"

  "No one else cared to hire you?"