by Nina Walker
I glare up into his face, voice tight, “I don’t even know you.”
He scoffs and shakes his head, pointing at me until his index finger pushes against my shoulder. “Don’t play dumb. I know what you are.”
My whole body lights up with recognition, but not in a good way. I step back, nerves rushing through me like electric currents. He knows what I am? He knows I’m a medium? How?
“Don’t touch her!” Cora bursts forward, her voice an angry growl. She’s the kind of person I wouldn’t want to mess with, but he doesn’t even give her a second glance.
“This is my territory,” he says, leaning in closer, hateful eyes trapping me in.
My inner voice is screaming at me to run far, far away. But something else inside me, something base and primal, wants to destroy him, to tear him limb from limb. Who does he think he is?
Our classmates have begun to form around the two of us, mixed expressions of shock and outrage and curiosity and even delight glued to their prying faces. But nobody intervenes. Go figure.
“Your territory?” I question with a laugh. “What is this, Westside Story? Like I said, I don’t even know you. And don’t you ever lay a hand on me again.”
He pauses for a second, looking me up and down like I’m half diseased, like I smell bad or something. Do I smell bad? I quickly inhale and catch his scent; it’s campfire and spice and oddly intoxicating. He’s dressed in the kind of laid-back black t-shirt and jeans that cost a fortune to look like he doesn’t care about his wardrobe. Typical. I’m wearing butter-soft black leggings and an oversized Gryffindor hoodie. And proud of it! His nostrils flare and that “could cut glass” jaw tenses again.
The moment stretches out between us, taut as a wire. Nobody moves. Nobody speaks. I suddenly grow hot. A ghostly gurgle of water streams across the floor, pooling at our feet an inch thick. I look down and stare, panic rushing through me. Not now! It seeps into my high top sneakers. Nobody else sees it. Nobody feels it. Dread sweeps over me. Where did it come from?
“Pack your things and get the hell out of this town,” he hisses under his breath, the venom in his tone meant to sting. I blink up at him, out of my element. Then he pushes past me, his broad shoulders nearly knocking me to the tiled floor, into the ghostly water that only I can see.
I’m speechless.
Macy rushes to steady me, her face pale and her wide eyes twinkling with worry. “Are you okay, Hazel? What was that about?”
“I don’t know,” I croak, confused as ever. Blood rushes to my cheeks as my adrenaline begins to fade, and I realize that everyone is staring at me. Why is this crap always happening? Seriously, I cannot handle another bully, especially one that looks like that. Good Lord, he’s sexy and scary and I don’t even know what to do with this situation.
Cora slides her ebony arm through mine, tugging me close. The water sloshes around my ankles and I refuse to look at it for too long, to search for whatever spirit is doing this to me. Cora’s a physically affectionate person in general, and something about her vanilla perfume and warm skin relaxes me a fraction. I can get through this. With friends like her, I’ll be okay.
“Dang girl,” she sighs dramatically. “What on earth did you do to piss off Dean Ashton?”
2
Khali
I fly ahead of Owen, dipping close enough to crest the water and fling an icy spray into his face. If he were in his human form, he wouldn’t cough or cry out, he’d laugh. And then he would send it right back. But in his dragon form, he relishes the water. A loud splash echoes throughout the darkness and the flapping of our wings goes from two sets, to one. He must have gone under, his water elemental magic eager for a ride. I push harder, flying as fast as I can, sticking to the air. While I have an affinity for all four elements, air is my favorite. I’ll need the advantage if I’m to beat him to the outer wall.
A torrent of water shoots up, and I crash straight into it. It’s quick to twist around my body, dragging me down into the murky lake. Water floods my throat and dulls my senses, and I instantly draw on my water elemental. The magic springs to life, giving my dragon self new life underwater. I thought it was dark above, but below the surface, it’s black as ink. Fear clamps down on me, despite my efforts to push it away.
Where are you, Owen Hydros Brightcaster!? I yell at him through our telepathic link. I am going to murder you! You know I hate going under, especially at night. It’s creepy down here. But it’s not only creepy, it’s filled with terrible memories that I’d rather not revisit. Ever.
I’m met with a sly laugh. Don’t be such a baby!
I’m almost a grown woman, you twit, I challenge. I don’t even bother to search for him down here. Our jet-black hides camouflage too well in the watery darkness. I tug at my fire elemental, just enough to warm my limbs so I can swim faster to the surface.
Oh, believe me, he replies with that same laughing tone, everyone has noticed. His words ring through our link and send my heart skittering.
If I could blush in my dragon form, I would. Not because he and I have anything between us other than a deep friendship, but because there’s no hiding the way my body has blossomed. I’m beginning to resemble my mother, who wears her curves like a badge of honor. I could never be like that, walking around court like a prize to be won.
Even though that’s exactly what I am.
The moment I crest the lake to greet the late summer air, my fear washes away with the water. I hate going down there, night or day, and my dragon side doesn’t like it much either. Everytime I do, logic vanishes and the animal within demands I get out before the merfolk sense us. Not that Owen and I couldn’t fight them off. He’s not the least bit afraid of sea monsters, but I’d rather not face those particular demons ever again. As a child, they used me to get what they wanted from the dragon royals, and I’ll never be able to let that watery experience go. No matter how hard I try, the trauma follows me.
The familiar shapes of our towering castle home and the surrounding village rise like hands in the distance. The village spreads out over the landscape for miles with a looming stone wall circling the entire thing. The sun has yet to break the horizon, thank the Gods. Owen and I have to be back in our beds before morning, with no one the wiser to our midnight escapade. I stretch my wings to their absolute fullest and push every muscle to maximum effort. I can almost taste my forthcoming victory.
Once a week, for the last year, Prince Owen and I have snuck out at night to race around the territory and practice our magic. The sentries and guards don’t mind him, he could walk right on through the gates if he wanted. Princes can do almost whatever they want. Almost. It’s my presence that requires our secrecy. I’ve gotten caught out here before and the reprimands cost me dearly. But if he were caught with me? There are some things even princes cannot overcome. And yet Owen insists. He’s my best friend at court and understands how much I crave to fly. He risks everything to give me the chance.
I love him for it. It’s because of his friendship that I’m here, wind rushing off my scales, night shrouding my dragon form, the thrill of the chase nipping at the tip of my wings.
This is the happiest time of my week. Always.
Owen swoops up next to me, and having left his beloved lake behind, he’s faster than ever. Sometimes I wish he’d let me win, but I know he won’t. He’s far too competitive. And I wouldn’t be satisfied if he did. I could use one of my other elements to delay him, just as he did with the wall of water, but I don’t. I never do. It wouldn’t seem fair to use the wind or earth or fire when he cannot. I’m just as competitive as he is and a level playing field is half the fun. So we stick to water and flight.
He’s inches from gaining the lead and the outer city wall is closer now, Stoneshearth’s Castle rising beyond it. The first one of us to land along the edge and shift back to human form wins. We advance, neck and neck, our wings slapping the wind, until he presses ahead. I quickly veer to the right and knock into him, hoping to jar him off course,
but he’s bigger than me and it proves futile. Something foreign ripples through me, pulling me down, like weights clinging to my scales. I baulk, confused, tumbling to the rocky ground. Did I just lose my power? No. Not possible. I quickly push the thought away.
Owen circles back, landing next to me with a thud. We shift back, our clothes half drenched. My long hair is a matted mess down my back that will be its own cruel punishment come morning, but still worth it.
“Are you okay?” Owen asks, crouching down next to me. “What happened?”
My breath catches in my throat. I bite back the worry and force a smile onto my face. “One of these days, I’m going to beat you.”
“I have no doubt.” He winks. His eyes are the brightest blue, even at night. It’s impossible not to stare. But there’s still something unsettled in his gaze. He’s also worried about me, but he lets it go for now.
We sneak back into the castle through one of the many underground passageways. It’s musty and cramped. The floor is worn dirt and the damp stone walls are so low we have to crawl in some spots. There are a few places where we travel close to public spaces. We take extra care to go slow here, and even still, every sound sets us on edge. But we’re also used to it and, as far as we know, we’re the only ones who’ve found this particular passageway.
We take this risk week after week, knowing that if we get caught together, he’ll bear the brunt of our punishment. I’m selfish for it. I know that. For a prince to be caught sneaking around with me is prohibited, and if caught, he—or any one of his brothers—would be given a very public and very painful lashing. But its effect wouldn’t be lasting, wouldn’t be life or death, and perhaps that’s why we tempt fate.
No. It’s my kiss that is deadly. Should anyone be caught kissing me, they’re to be sent into immediate exile. And should they foolishly try to return? Executed. Owen has never kissed me, and I pray he doesn’t. Because two years ago, his older brother did, and we haven’t seen him since.
“Lady Khali. Please, hold still,” my ladies maid, Faros, says with a great deal of exasperation as she tugs my corset’s strings. I catch her eye in the gilded mirror and shoot her a chagrined smile, but I do what she asks, wincing as she finishes tightening, dressing, and primping me for the day. Faros has been with me for as long as I can remember. I consider her my second mother, though she’s much kinder than my real mother who took to court life like a knife to venison, cutting her way to the top.
“Does it have to be Friday already?” I complain. “Let’s just skip right to Saturday so I can rest.”
The missed sleep from last night weighs heavily on my limbs. That and the pressing worry about what happened. I’ve never once struggled with my dragon form like that. It was as if one second she and I were together, and the next, we were separated into two different beings. The thought of it leaves me hollow.
Faros clicks her tongue. “You have to give all the princes equal time. You know the law.”
I frown. “Yes, I do.”
Some of us choose our fate. Most do not. But in my seventeen years, I’ve come to realize that we all have control over what we believe. Our lives may not be ours to mold, but our thoughts are ours to own. Do the Gods have their hands in our lives at every moment, continually directing us on a course of their choosing? Or is fortune left to chance, left to ambitious men and women, willing to take what they want?
Or perhaps it’s both.
I was placed here by the Gods. My past, present, and future are clay between their fingers. There was a time when I rebelled against my fate, but I’ve since accepted the truth. And that acceptance was my choice. My one choice. My path was bestowed on me the day I sparked life in my mother’s womb, and, from the moment my eyes fluttered opened as an infant, it was known that I would be the next queen. My status from commoner to royal has never been questioned.
No, the question was, and still is, this: which of the four princes is to be my husband?
I brush my hands along my robin’s egg blue bodice, admiring the crushed velvet. Velvet is my favorite fabric, even in summer, and it makes me smile. There’s little I get to choose, but this dress is one.
Still, I sigh, returning to the truth of the day ahead. “But why does Bram have to be so boring? He never wants to do anything I want to do. It’s all study, study, study with him.”
“You would do well to read a book every once in a while.”
I fake a gasp of outrage. “I read!”
“Only to satisfy your tutors. I’m talking about taking a real interest in your responsibilities.”
I roll my eyes, even though I’m not surprised. This kind of advice is constant. Ask anyone, and they’d tell me to be grateful, to embrace what I’ve been given. “You sound just like Mother.”
“Oh hush,” she replies with a twitching smile, breaking her orderly façade.
As if her timing couldn’t be any more impeccable, my mother sweeps into my room. Her chestnut hair is neatly done atop her head in a sort of silly bird’s nest design and her dress is perfectly pressed silver silk against her tanned skin. She’s beautiful and cunning, and I steel myself for whatever she has come to demand of me.
“Tonight is an important night for you,” she says coolly, her eyes landing on me like I’ve already begun to argue.
I roll my eyes. “Aren’t they all? You know, I’m tiring of all this fanfare at my expense.”
She looks at me like I’ve gone insane, gathering her thoughts. “Then I’ll make this quick. I’ve come to encourage your courtship with Silas,” Mother says. She glides across the room to stand in front of me, placing cool hands on my shoulders and peering into my eyes. “Silas will take good care of you and this kingdom when the time comes. You should be nicer to him and stop paying so much attention to the childish twin.”
I shrug her off me. “Owen is my best friend, and why does it matter who I pay attention to? The king will choose my mate anyway.”
“It matters because people talk. So you’ll give Silas extra attention tonight. Do it for your family.”
I fake a smile, but inside I’m boiling. “As you wish, Mother.” I want to argue with her, but it’s so much easier to give in to her demands.
Not for the first time, I wish my father wasn’t gone so often. She never does this kind of thing in his presence. He’s too protective of me, and she’s too enamoured of him. He’s the kind of person who brings out the best qualities in all of us. I miss him terribly, like an emptiness is in my heart and only he can fill it up.
She raises a perfect eyebrow and then leaves me to Faros without another word. The second she’s gone, I groan and Faros shrugs, a look of regret passing over her eyes. There’s no point in talking about it. These are the kinds of conversations I’ve been having with my mother for years. She only has a place in this castle because of me and she’s desperate to make sure that everything I do stays in her control so that she can keep things the way she likes them.
Faros ushers me to the hallway as if the previous scene never happened. I wish she’d stand up for me, but I forgive her for not quite understanding me, because I love her, and at least she doesn’t try to control me. It’s like that with the people I call my family. With Father and Mother and Faros—even when they try to put me into the tightest of places, even when it hurts me to contort to their ideas for my future, my forgiveness is automatic. Perhaps that’s foolish, or perhaps that’s normal when it comes to family.
Faros stays close as we walk down to Bram’s chambers on the other end of Stoneshearth’s Castle. The staff step out of our way as we pass. Courtesans smile and offer cheerful greetings. Around us, the stone floors and walls are polished to gleaming gray. Giant arched windows line the long hallways, letting in rivers of golden light, brightening the glittering dust particles suspended in midair. Beyond the windows, countless dragons swoop and swirl in the distance. Some of our dragon army is practicing, their training drills sending a pang of pure want through my body. I long to be out there in
stead of cooped up in here, but I know that will never happen.
It doesn’t take long until I find myself standing outside of Bram’s door. I release a breath and knock against the oak. I hope he doesn’t answer. I know he will.
Every day it’s a different prince, except for Saturdays, which belong to me, and Sundays which belong to the Gods. Prince Owen is my best friend, and we always have loads of fun together, joking and lounging around with our pals. Prince Silas is witty and intense. He likes to play chess and talk about war strategy. Sometimes we’ll go for strolls in the hedge maze, which I quite enjoy. He’s fairly easy to talk to, but he doesn’t have many friends; he’s too critical, too barbed. Nobody stays close for long, nobody wants to get cut. And there’s something about him that scares me, something about the way he sees the world, like it’s another one of his chess boards. Everything can be won or lost.
But it’s Bram whom I struggle to connect with the most. He’s as dull as a butter knife. All he cares for are his books and tutors. Whenever I spend the day with him, we barely speak, let alone leave the musky library attached to his chambers. I suppose that’s to be expected of someone who isn’t Dragon Blessed. It’s not his fault, really.
In a matter of seconds, he opens the door, nods once, and goes back to his desk.
“Your majesty.” I bow and Faros and I stride into his chambers. All the princes have their own studies and sitting rooms for our meetings, and when we’re together, we’re never to be alone. At least not until one is crowned King and I’m married off.
Bram’s sitting room is dark, with thick curtains drawn over the window, dripping candles burning in the candelabras, and stacks of books piled on every available surface. True to form, he doesn’t even bother to look up from whatever he’s studying today. I eye the tome in his lap, catching sight of the name of our greatest enemy: The Sovereign Occultists. I shudder and swallow down the instant burst of fear. The warlocks are terrible in every possible way and, worst of all, they want to eradicate elemental magic. The dragon race is top of their list.