Dragon's Tailor

by Zoe Chant

  Oh Harper, no, he thought, and then he hit the ground with a thunderous quake.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ∞∞∞

  Harper watched the sky battle with her hands over her mouth to keep from crying out. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wished she could simply step back and take in the beauty of it, two legendary monsters twisting around in each other in feats of deadly daring and fury.

  Of course she couldn't; that was Morgan in the sky, and every time he faltered, every time the other dragon struck out at him, she had to stifle a scream.

  She could see clearly now how much trouble he was in. They were evenly matched in size, but where the other dragon moved smoothly, there was something stilted about Morgan's movements. He was stiffer, slower, and her heart almost stopped when the other dragon lashed out with a clawed hand intending to open his throat.

  Harper exhaled in almost overwhelming relief when the other dragon turned tail and fled, but that relief only lasted a moment before Morgan fell through the sky. For a second, Harper thought that he intended to land, but from the limp way his left wing fluttered, she realized that, no, this was a fall.

  Beyond things like hauling around forty-pound bins of fabric and twelve-hour sewing marathons, Harper had never considered herself athletic. However, athletic or not, she was somehow clear of the ditch and sprinting across the open ground towards the falling dragon in a heartbeat. There was an appalled moment where she realized she had absolutely no idea what she would do, how in the world to break his fall or to help him as he was, and then as he had before, Morgan fell to the earth as a human. She skidded to a stop at his side, falling down hard on her knees.

  “Morgan? Morgan, speak to me, Morgan…!”

  This time, his eyes were closed, and his face was as pale as bleached linen. Falling back on some half-remembered first aid, she felt for his pulse. For a moment, she thought she couldn't feel anything, but then she found it, strong and steady as far as she could tell. He was breathing without problems, nothing seemed broken, and then she was stuck.

  “Morgan,” she said, trying to keep herself from both tears and hysterical laughter, “Please. Please get up. You are going to absolutely hate it if I have to drag you through the woods and back to the car. Please.”

  Morgan showed no sign of getting up at all, and Harper forced herself to be calm. She had to think. If Morgan didn't get up soon, she had to do something. She could not – would not – sit by helpless while he was unconscious.

  He was her mate.

  A thought occurred, and she patted his pockets. It made made her blush a little to handle him so intimately, and that was how she knew that she was likely at least in a bit of shock from everything that had happened.

  “Sorry, babe,” she murmured. “I'll make it up to you later, all right?”

  She found his phone, and wonder of wonders, it wasn't broken in the fall. There was a rough moment where she thought it had a number lock, but then she realized that he had a thumbprint swipe.

  “I would have thought that a dragon would have better security,” she said, laying his hand back down by his side. “We can talk about it when you wake up...”

  Of course he'll wake up. I don't believe in a world where he doesn't. I can't.

  A stillness fell down over her as she paged through his contacts. There was a sense that she was doing something that she should not be doing, but she pushed it aside. This was one of those situations where she had to ask for forgiveness rather than permission, and she could live with it if it only got Morgan the help he needed.

  There was no one helpfully listed as “emergency” or “call in case I get knocked out in a state park,” but when she opened his most recent calls, she saw that the last person he had contacted was someone listed as Reese Marrak.

  “Marrak...”

  Morgan's voice rang in her memory.

  We're from Wales, originally. The Marraks, a larger branch of the family are still there. They're old-school in many ways, but they're kind, very kind …

  Well, Reese Marrak wouldn't do her much good if he was in Wales, but she would take kind. She hit the call button, cradling the phone on her shoulder while she held on to Morgan's hands. She felt heartened that he was warm, he was always so warm.

  “Morgan, this had better be damned good.”

  The words were sharp, but they were spoken with such a lazy pleased amusement that Harper found herself blushing. That was the voice of a man who had been interrupted doing something he liked very much, and she cleared her throat before she spoke.

  “I'm sorry, this isn't Morgan. I have his phone. Look. We were on our way to his family reunion and...”

  Faster than she would have thought, she outlined the events of the last, God, it had been less than half an hour. Through the line, she got the idea that Reese was listening intently, and when she was done, he let out a long breath.

  “Well, that's all terrible news,” he said, so blunt it made her laugh. “I know where you are. We're already on the grounds. We can be to you within twenty minutes or so.”

  Harper blinked.

  “Wait, are you sure you know where we're at? Morgan said we wouldn't get there until tomorrow morning.”

  “I am sure,” Reese said. “Twenty minutes, and if I'm late, I owe you a pizza.”

  “Pizza and a Coke,” Harper countered, holding on to Morgan's hand tightly, and Reese laughed, hanging up.

  ***

  Twenty-five minutes later, a thick whoosh made Harper look up fearfully.

  I should have gotten Morgan under cover, I should have…

  The dragon that set down lightly in the clearing wasn't the one that had attacked Morgan, however. In fact, he was almost identical to Morgan himself, pure black from head to toe with the same coppery eyes. As Harper watched, the dragon put a small woman on the ground in front of him, so tender and gentle that she didn't even stumble. Then he was shrinking himself down into a tall man dressed in jeans and a nice button-down.

  Harper had to blink at his resemblance to Morgan. She knew that they weren't brothers, but they could have passed for such easily. They were probably within an inch of each other in height, and the only difference was that Reese was perhaps a bit heavier, a little more muscular through the chest and shoulders.

  Oh, she thought with dawning realization. This is what Morgan looked like before whatever happened to him.

  Harper had to resist the urge to actually growl at him when he knelt down by Morgan's side. Reese touched his fingers to Morgan's throat for a pulse, and cupped his hand briefly over his mouth to make sure that he was breathing and then sighed.

  “I take it that bastard knocked him out of the sky?”

  Harper didn't know what to say to that. She suddenly had no idea how much Reese knew or what Morgan wanted him to know. Would Morgan rather Reese think that he had been defeated or that he had fallen?

  “I didn't see all of it,” she said. “Um, I was in that ditch over there. Suddenly he was falling, and when he hit the ground, he was like this.”

  Reese snorted in a way that she was not sure she liked.

  “I keep telling him he needs to go into his dragon form more than he does. Use or lose it, as Uncle Wilf always says.”

  “Is he going to be all right?” Harper demanded, and Reese gave her a startled and slightly guilty look.

  “Yeah, he's just exhausted himself,” he said. “I'm sorry, I should have said that first.”

  “You definitely should have said that first,” said the woman who had come in with him. “Imagine you were down, and I was the one worried about you.”

  “Yes, but you're my –“

  Reese's eyes widened, and he looked at Harper again with new understanding.

  “Oh! Oh, I see...”

  Harper blushed. It was one thing to have this kind of talk with Morgan, another entirely to have it with his family.

  “Look, I just want Morgan to be okay...”

  The woman nodded fi
rmly.

  “No, that makes perfect sense. I'm sorry. Reese knows that Morgan will be fine, but you didn't. We can get up to the grounds in twenty minutes, and there are people there who can check to make sure. I'm Tara, by the way, and this is Reese, because someone needs to make introductions.”

  “I'm Harper. And if it's all the same to you, I would really like to get Morgan somewhere safe. I don't like him just like unconscious out here in the open.”

  “And we're going to need to talk about whoever it was that attacked him,” Reese said, scanning the treeline as if expecting another attack. “Once to test Morgan's strength is one thing. Twice in a matter of days…that might mean we have a rogue on our hands.”

  Tara scowled.

  “It's not just young idiots from the Sawney clan across the mountains? Cai was about ready to skin them if they flew against you again.”

  “No, this is different.”

  “Hey,” Harper broke in, adrenaline making her sharper than she should have been. “Can we discuss this later when we're safe? And can you get Morgan back to where people can check on him?”

  “Absolutely,” Reese agreed. “Morgan's flown Air Reese before. It is a comfortable flight with no waiting.”

  Harper laughed in spite of herself, shaking her head.

  “All right. I've got the car here. I can drive behind. I'll be up tomorrow morning, and…”

  Reese interrupted her with a laugh.

  “Do you want to see Morgan tear my head off when I tell him I left his true mate at the site of an attack? Nothing doing.”

  “But someone's got to bring the car along...” Harper said. She could feel a kind of tinniness to her voice. It was too many things. The adrenaline drop was catching up with her, and it was doing strange things to her ability to think and plan.

  To her surprise, it was Tara who spoke, patting Reese on the shoulder.

  “Don't worry, Air Reese is cleared for cargo in excess of well over two to three tons,” she said cheerfully. “Hm. As a matter of fact...”

  *

  And that was how Harper ended up in the back seat with an still-unconscious Morgan leaning against her, Reese's mate Tara in the front seat, and the entire car being flown north, carried gently in Reese's claws.

  “This is insane,” she said. “This is completely insane.”

  “Just another Friday,” Tara said easily. “You'll get used to it.”

  Harper looked down at Morgan, watching the way his eyes twitched under the eyelids. She had heard somewhere that that meant he was dreaming, and she had to resist the urge to bend down and kiss him.

  She hoped his dreams were good, and at the same time, she was very afraid that they were not.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ∞∞∞

  For the second time that week, Morgan had no idea where he was when he woke up.

  I cannot make a habit of this, he thought muzzily, it's terrible.

  Then he realized that Harper's hand was in his, and perhaps it wasn't so bad after all. He sat up with a wince at how stiff he was, and he found himself in a modern yurt, a pavilion formed from a round frame with drapes of felt to keep out the elements. It was dim, but there was an electric lamp hung up from the main pole, casting everything in a soft glow.

  He was in a bed he could tell had been lashed together with a lattice of ropes to provide the support, and Harper was sitting on a small stool by his side, leaning over onto the bed and snoring slightly.

  “Hey. Get up, you can't sleep like that.”

  “Don't tell me what to do,” she said with a yawn, sitting up. “Are you all right? He said you would be.”

  “Entirely fine,” Morgan responded a little uneasily. “Who's he?”

  “Your cousin Reese. He's the one who got us here when I called.”

  “Reese? You called Reese?”

  His blood was suddenly pounding in his ears, and he stared at her with a tide of emotions tumbling through him.

  “He was the last one you spoke to, and you said that the Marraks were your family. You said that they were kind.”

  Morgan threw the covers aside to pace in the small space of the yurt. Now that he looked at it, he recognized it as belonging to the Marraks, who were fond of them for camping and convocations.

  Convocations...

  “We're here,” he said, because apparently there was no preparing for this. “We're actually here.”

  “Yes, Reese just carried the entire car, including you, me, and Tara. Um, he also sprung for Coke and a pizza, which is right over there if you want some. You're looking a little ...”

  “No,” Morgan said, looking around wildly. “I…you called him. What did he see?”

  Harper was watching him, her eyes wide, but when she spoke, her voice was steady.

  “He saw you. He saw that you were unconscious, and he said that you needed to spend more time in your dragon form, he…he wasn't mean about anything, Morgan. Will you please sit down?”

  Inside his chest, his dragon was roaring, desperate and furious. It didn't understand that he had bested his opponent, or that he had protected his mate. Right now, all that it understood was that he had fallen from the sky, and that was unbearable.

  “I can't,” Morgan said, shaking his head. “Why are you like this? Why are you being so – so –“

  Harper was on her feet, approaching him with a concerned look on her face. He realized with a sickening feeling in his gut how often he had seen that look and what it meant. She was managing him as if he were a particularly cranky invalid or a child. A despair darker than any he had ever felt rushed over him like a tide.

  “Morgan? So what? What am I being? Aren't I your mate?”

  It should have thrilled him. Her admitting to being his mate should have sent him surging up to the moon, breathing fire in joyous abandon. Now all that joy was turned to ash, and he knew, even if his dragon didn't understand, that his days of flying were numbered.

  She reached for his hand, and Morgan, without thinking, pulled back. The look of hurt and surprise in her eyes shook him, and just then, he would have given it all away if he could comfort her, every bit of gold in his hoard, every moment of flight he had ever had, every breath of flame he had ever breathed.

  “Morgan!”

  “Harper – I am so sorry.”

  The words dropped from his mouth like stones, and he couldn't stand the confusion and fear in her eyes any longer.

  He turned and left.

  ***

  The terrain of Upstate New York was rocky, covered with forests, and to most people, was harsh and foreboding. Of course the Castells, when they first came to the United States, found it welcoming and isolated, perfect for their needs.

  Some of his relatives were still settled in the area, and Morgan knew that the best thing would be to go talk to them, to greet them appropriately and to make preparations for what he knew had to come next. Instead, he found himself walking the paths through the forests. There was only a little bit of light left in the sky, but he knew these paths as well as he knew his reflection in the mirror. He walked without thinking, because if he thought at at all, he would find his thoughts circling back to Harper and what she must think of him.

  They said that there was no controlling when one found one's mate, whether it happened at a good time or bad, and he laughed a little bitterly at the lesson he had never taken so seriously. It had happened, Harper was a blessing…and he couldn't bear it.

  He could tell himself all he liked that there were never more than a handful of dragon-blooded who could actually change into dragons. Even the largest clans boasted no more than a half dozen or so. The Castells only had him and his cousin Cai, while the Marrak branch only had Reese and his mother Gwen. They sort of shared Uncle Wilf between them, but it had always been enough to defend their clan and their interests.

  And I have to do what's right for them, what's right for all of us.

  Still he walked until he came to the entrance of a cave that wa
s half-hidden by a deadfall. It was his, his in a way that few other things in the world were, and he paused, wondering how in less than a century he could become so very unworthy.

  It was only when he paused that he became aware of heavy breathing and a stumbling step behind him, and a prickle of horrified recognition shot up his spine. In a second, Morgan was darting back down the path, finding Harper on the trail behind him.

  “You followed me?”

  “You must be pretty out of it,” she said, smiling at him. “I really wasn't very subtle.”

  “You shouldn't have followed me at all,” Morgan said, still bewildered. “The path can be treacherous, and –“

  “Hey.”

  Harper's voice was sharp, and even in the dimness of the darkening evening, he could feel himself pinned by her direct gray gaze.

  “Harper?”

  “Would you let me go running off into the woods if I had just spent the better part of six hours unconscious?”

  “Well –“

  “Keeping in mind that if you say it's different because I'm a girl, I will not hesitate to push you down off this mountain.”

  “This is not a mountain,” Morgan said for want of any other argument he could make. “This is a hill that wants to grow up and be a mountain.”

  “Whatever. Morgan. Please. Tell me what's wrong.”

  Before he could respond, she took his hand in his. There was a strange echo to the moment, as if somehow they were calling back to his ancestors who had taken hands with their true mates in the dark just like this, swearing to love each other, to honor one another, and to be at one another's side no matter what.

  “Morgan. If…if this is us. If this is going to be for good and always…show me how you want to go forward.”

  He could either put her off, push her away…

  Or he could let her in.

  Morgan took a deep breath, let it out, and took another. He realized that she was breathing with him.