by Ann Gimpel
“Some outcomes are worth risking everything for, Daughter.”
Steam puffed from the dragon god’s mouth, surrounding Katya. He meant it to be soothing, but she couldn’t let go of worry cutting a path through her. It wasn’t a lack of faith in Johan. He was plenty competent.
In his own world. With his own people.
Her domain was brand new for him. She hoped to hell he remembered everything she’d said about starting out in control with his new bondmate. If the dragon thought it could run wild, bit in its teeth, the partnership would be doomed from the gate.
The liminal space shattered around Katya, and she catapulted through blackness. She knew this place, had been here many times. It was unpleasant since there was no air, but that part was always short-lived. A barrier brushed past and she dropped onto a borderworld. A hasty glance told her she’d never been here before, but it wasn’t surprising.
There were thousands of borderworlds, perhaps tens of thousands. She’d only visited a bare handful. She stilled her uneasiness and sent a questing thread of power outward. If Y Ddraigh Goch had released his hold on her, it must mean Johan’s transformation was complete.
Or he was in trouble.
A tortured scream filled her ears, echoing all around her. She forgot about magic and sprinted toward the agonized bellowing. Johan sprawled on the ground. From the looks of things, most of his bones were broken. Blood pooled around him. She kindled her power and looked through her third eye. A green dragon hovered nearby, regarding Johan’s shattered remains.
“What have you done?” Katya demanded.
“Not me,” the dragon said indignantly. “Him. He gave up too soon. I cannot help him.”
She didn’t waste any more words. Bounding to Johan’s side, she squatted next to him and called his name. He was too far gone to hear her. Hating herself for what came next, she slapped him. The last thing she wanted was to hurt him further, but she had to get through. It worked. He opened his eyes, and they seared her soul. She’d seen eyes like his in Hell. Tortured. Persecuted. Desperate.
“Goddess damn everything. Johan. Reach for your dragon. Do it now.”
“I cannot see it. Not any longer.”
She gripped the sides of his face and forced magic into him, determined to augment his waning strength. Had Y Ddraigh Goch waited too long before releasing her? Moments passed, and she feared Johan had moved beyond where even an infusion of magic could help him bond with his dragon.
Her heart seized in her chest, and she moaned low in her throat. She felt her dragon’s presence. “In Y Ddraigh Goch’s name,” her beast intoned, “you will help this human join with you.”
She would have thanked her bondmate for trying to wring some effort from the green dragon, but she had nothing to spare. Every shred of power at her disposal was focused on Johan.
He rallied, but she didn’t slack off. What she was doing was helping.
Would it be enough?
Come on, she urged silently, willing him success with every last particle of her being. The tattered lump of flesh that had been Johan wavered. Had she imagined it because she wanted it so desperately? Katya directed her third eye at him, sharpening her senses.
All in a rush, his body faded to nothing. In its place, the green dragon stood, fully corporeal, fanning its wings.
Too angry to savor her victory, Katya leapt to her feet and shook a fist skyward. “You could have done more. He almost died.”
“Like what? I told him to reach for me. And I told him he had to try harder, that he would die.” The dragon’s voice rumbled through her head.
Bright light seared her corneas. Y Ddraigh Goch appeared in the center of a nimbus of blue-white illumination. The dragon god looked from her to the green dragon and nodded. “It appears we snatched victory from the jaws of defeat.” He focused his next words at Katya. “Shift and fly with them.”
She was still furious at how close a call they’d had. “Should we make certain Johan is even in there?” she retorted.
Fire roared from the god. She sidestepped it nimbly. “I deserved that, I suppose, but I kept my word.”
“You had to,” the god observed acidly. “I did not release you until—”
“Johan was nearly dead,” she muttered.
“I am all right. I think,” Johan spoke up. “I may never want to shift again, but I made it through. Thank you. If it hadn’t been for your magic—” Fire shot from the green dragon’s mouth, followed by ash. It was obviously annoyed by Johan’s gratitude being aimed at her.
“What?” Katya planted herself squarely in front of the green dragon. “You wish to take all the credit?”
“No, but it appears you would,” the dragon replied coolly.
“Will you quarrel or fly?” the god inquired. “There is cause for celebration. We have a new dragon shifter in our midst.”
Katya shoved her temper aside. Y Ddraigh Goch was correct. She bowed, not low, but enough to indicate acquiescence. “Thank you for bonding with Johan Petris,” she told the dragon, keeping her tone formal. “I appreciate your willingness to take a chance on an untried human.”
The dragon inclined its head. “Will you fly with us?”
She felt her dragon champing at the bit. It had stood up to the green dragon when Johan was dying, and now it wanted to make peace. Her magical well was low, but she kicked what was left of it open and trusted her beast would do the rest. It did. The familiar stretching moved from her head downward. It took a little longer than she was used to, but soon enough, her golden scales shone brightly in the muted light of this world.
For once, she was amenable to turning things over to her bondmate. She was giddy from relief Johan had made the leap into the dragon. When reading through the lore books, she’d always assumed the tales of humans dropping dead were overblown.
Apparently, they’d all been true.
The green dragon spread his wings and let the air currents lift him into the skies. Her dragon leapt skyward, joining it. For a time, they flew gently this way and that. “What do you think?” she asked Johan.
“I am still recovering, but this is amazing. Will my body, the human one, ever be habitable again?”
“Oh yes.”
“How?”
“Our magic is repairing it right now,” his dragon cut in.
Its words were a sharp reminder to her that she was no longer the only one interested in Johan’s welfare. If she was wise, she’d back off enough to let the bond between man and dragon grow and deepen. When they overflew the spot they’d begun, Y Ddraigh Goch was gone.
Of course, he would be. His task here was done. Perhaps Johan hadn’t had as close a call as she feared. She’d gotten there in time, hadn’t she?
She started to suggest they’d flown enough for a first flight but decided to let the green dragon make that call. It bugled and angled toward a herd of something that looked a bit like striped deer. She watched as the dragon singled out its prey, cutting it from the crowd.
“We shall hunt as well,” her dragon informed her.
Katya didn’t contradict it. She needed energy, and feeding would help replenish her magic. Their animal was nice and fat. Her dragon snatched it in powerful jaws before rising back into the air. The first bite of succulent flesh woke every nerve ending in her mouth. Flying and chewing weren’t a good mix, though. Too many food bits dropped out of the sky. Her bondmate settled to earth and proceeded to consume flesh and organs, crunching through bones and hoofs last.
The delightful, copper smell of blood was thick in her nostrils, and she slid her tongue over her scaled lips to capture the last of it. Not surprisingly, the rest of the herd had made themselves scarce.
Next to her, the green dragon finished the last of its kill.
“How are you doing?” she asked Johan.
“He is fine.” The green dragon regarded her balefully.
“I can answer for myself.”
Katya hooded her eyes, delighted Johan wasn’t g
oing to sit back and let his bondmate determine his every move. Perhaps some of what she’d told him had sunk in.
“What would both of you like to do?” she asked brightly.
The green dragon, who stood half a head taller than her, lowered its head so their eyes were on a level plane. “My bondmate has done well for today. It’s time for him to shift back to his other form. He requires practice with shift magic.”
A muted squawk rose from Johan. “Is there a step-by-step instruction manual? I do not wish a repeat of my transition from man to dragon.”
Katya waited, not wanting to annoy the green dragon any more than she already had. This dragon could well end up being their mate. Maybe. She had no idea what her dragon thought of him. There certainly hadn’t been a plethora of oohs and aahs, though.
If her dreams materialized and Johan longed for her the same way she desired him, her bondmate would have to agree with her choice of a mate. At least so far, their time with the green dragon hadn’t been particularly auspicious.
Katya kicked herself. They had significantly more in front of them than her misplaced desire for a mate. Getting back to Earth was paramount. Finding Kon and Erin ran a close second. Had Erin bonded with a dragon of her own? Or was she even now sitting among humans at the Polish base?
Erin’s fate aside, they still had an unimaginable amount of work ahead of them. Every day they burned through to better prepare themselves, the serpents’ magic was strengthening. Soon they would no longer be vulnerable in their human form. Once they couldn’t be killed, there’d be no way to defeat them.
“The transition is simple.” The green dragon belched steam.
“A few pointers would be appreciated.” Johan’s dry humor shone through. For some reason, it heartened her. He wasn’t blaming his dragon for the last shift—the one that had nearly killed him.
“Hold an image of your other body,” the dragon began.
“Which one?” Johan cut in.
“You only have one.” The dragon corrected him.
“All right. Before or after most of my bones broke?”
“Before, of course,” the dragon replied stiffly.
Katya thought Johan might be stalling. Made sense since he’d been in excruciating agony when she found him. “Simplest thing in the world,” she spoke up. “Imagine your human form and fall headfirst into it. Like this.”
She summoned power, saw the characteristic flash, and tumbled into her other body. The deer-like animal had boosted her energy. She wasn’t quite back to full strength, but near enough fingers replaced talons quicker than she expected. She stood in front of the green dragon and appealed to it.
“We can help him through this. Tell me when you’re ready, and—”
“He does not require your magic. Mine will be sufficient.” Smoke and ash rained down on her.
She batted it aside, along with the dressing down she longed to shout in his face.
“Hopefully, I will not need anything beyond my own ability,” Johan said. The confident, resolute note was back in his voice. Katya wanted to applaud, but it would truly offend his bondmate.
Light flickered, brightened—and died. Johan tried again. This time, the flash was brighter, but it didn’t yield the transformation, either.
“Take your time,” Katya urged. “Think it and let it happen. No hurry.”
Magic built around her—not hers. She knew better than to interfere after the green dragon had warned her off. The air thickened with the scents of sunbaked clay and burning wood. The scorched cedar smell intensified, rich and earthy. Katya bundled positive energy into belief in Johan, adding his dragon as an afterthought.
The next time brilliance glittered all around the clearing, the dragon shimmered to nothing. Johan stepped from the middle of a cloud of magic. His eyes still whirled, and his hands and feet still sported talons, but they were ceding to fingers and toes. Fine red lines crisscrossed his body, the remnants from his injuries.
Katya wanted to run to him, throw her arms around his broad shoulders, but she held back. It wasn’t just the two of them. Their dragons hovered nearby. She bowed her head. “Thank you, Johan’s bondmate, for seeing him safely back to his other form.”
Johan nodded. “My dragon appreciates your acknowledgement.” He shook himself from head to toe and looked down at his body. “I still cannot believe I am whole again.”
She wanted him to come to her, but he didn’t.
“How are you?” she asked.
“Not certain. It is a lot to take in.”
“I bet you have questions. Maybe not right this moment, but consider me a resource—in addition to your dragon.” She smiled encouragement, pleased she’d included his dragon in her comment. Bondmates you were born with didn’t require ongoing acknowledgement. Apparently, the ones who volunteered to take on projects—like fully grown humans—were an entirely different breed.
Was it just dragons? Or did all varieties of shifter pluck a page from the same rulebook?
“We should return to Earth,” Johan said. “But I need to locate my clothes, first.”
Katya clasped her hands in front of her. “Excellent. Your second magical project. Think about how you piled them wherever you left them.”
He shut his eyes. “Got it. Now what?”
Katya hesitated. How did you start from nothing? “Air is best for seeking spells. Instruct it to show you the way.”
Johan set his mouth in a tight line. Annoyed crinkles formed at the corners of his eyes. “Come here and show me, please. It is simpler than me floundering about making one mistake after another.”
It wasn’t quite how she’d envisioned standing next to him again, but she walked to him and turned so they were both facing the same direction. “Raise one arm,” she said, demonstrating. “Open your hand. Tell the wind to flow across your palm. When you feel the air moving, close your fist around it. Toss the ball of air while telling it to find your garments.”
“How will that help?”
She quirked a brow his way. “Try it and see.”
It took three tries before a small wind tunnel formed. Johan knew to follow the air current without her telling him to. She stood next to him and waited while he hurriedly got into his many layers of clothing. He was quiet, and she wasn’t certain what to make of it.
She debated a peek into his mind, but his dragon would know and probably resent the hell out of her intrusion.
“I can teach you how to warm yourself without all those garments,” she ventured.
“No need for it,” he replied. “With so much to learn, that is a very low priority.”
Katya moved nearer him. “What’s wrong?”
He zipped his jacket while feathers fluttered around them from places the coat was torn. When he finally turned to face her, his expression held a closed-off aspect. “I do not feel very good about this, but being at the bottom of the heap is not a comfortable spot. I have traded competence and skill for the inability to accomplish the simplest tasks without someone watching over me.”
Katya narrowed her eyes. So much for Johan being steeped in wonder at his transformation to a magical being. Where was his enthusiasm? The way his face had lit up when he’d discovered magic was more than the purview of books and movies?
“You haven’t lost any of the skills you had,” she pointed out.
“Maybe not, but they are not much good anymore.”
Something inside her snapped. For the second time that day, she slapped him, but not nearly as hard as she had when life was fading from him.
He recoiled and rubbed the side of his face. “What the hell did you do that for?”
“When you’re done feeling sorry for yourself, we can talk. Meanwhile, we’re going home. You can pay attention and learn something new, or you can sulk. Your choice.”
Breath hissed through his teeth. “Of course, I wish to learn. I do not know what is wrong with me. Tell me the steps to move us from here to Antarctica. If I can help in some s
mall way, I am willing.”
His tone was strained, formal. She cursed herself for an impatient fool, but she didn’t have time to coddle him. Magic was new to him. Shifting was scary, but he had to hit the ground with all burners engaged.
The serpents wouldn’t wait for him to come to terms with his new ability. They’d prefer him timid and insecure. Beyond that, his dragon would abandon him if he didn’t pull his act together better than this.
“All right.” She kept her voice even. “You will control our teleport spell. The first step in virtually all magic is visualizing what you want to happen—”
“And believing you can do it,” he broke in.
She stole a glance at him, encouraged he was trying. She’d feared him so mired in negativity, he was just along for the ride.
“Yes, that too,” she agreed. “Faith in yourself as a magic-wielder is a cornerstone. Now, for teleport spells, we use mostly fire mixed with a smidgeon of earth…”
She’d taught young shifters before. It was comfortable ground. All she had to do was forget she’d ever entertained the idea he might be her mate. Nothing had passed between them. Not really. It should be easy enough to switch roles. If being by herself was her destiny, she may as well embrace it.
Chapter 5
“Did I get that last part right?” I prodded Katya with an elbow since my hands were busy holding a fledgling spell together.
She seemed preoccupied. I was sure I’d been a huge disappointment to her during my brief tenure as a dragon shifter, but I needed to know if I was on the proper track. One that would spit us out on Earth.
Magic shimmered around her as she assessed my efforts. “Almost. Try blending in a very small puff of air.”
“But you said fire and earth.”
Katya’s gaze slid over me. “So I did. Each of us brings something unique to our magic. No two shifters cast the same spell in precisely the same way.”
I grinned. It was the first piece of welcome news I’d heard. So far, I had an imperious dragon nattering away in the background, and Katya tiptoeing around it. To hear I had to work things out on my own washed through me like a balm.