by Imogen Sera
She looked at the bed, then. The bed itself was a masterpiece, carved by hand by her grandfather, to please her grandmother. It was the bed that, as a child, she would climb into at night after she had a nightmare. The bed she’d crawled into, weeping and broken, after everyone was burned away. It was where she had first given herself to Helias. Obviously, the bed couldn’t go with her, so she retrieved a small knife from the bathroom and spent some time trying to cut off a piece of it. She succeeded in cutting her thumb and hacking off a rough edge that looked like a scrap of wood, but she added it to her pile anyway, and then laid her head against the big headboard one more time.
“I miss you,” she whispered into the wood, not entirely sure who she was talking to. She missed them all so much that it made her ache all over, and she pulled herself away as tears came to her eyes. There would be time for grief later, now she needed to collect what she could.
On the bed was the quilt that her grandmother had made and gifted to her parents at their wedding; it was folded neatly and added to the other items. She turned her attention to the cupboard in the corner, another item that she had carefully avoided since the plague had come. She opened it now and inhaled the scent of her father; it made her stagger briefly before she composed herself. Inside were neatly folded linens, and she searched through them until she found a small pink crocheted blanket. Her mother had learned to crochet upon learning of her pregnancy with Emily, and had made this for her younger daughter. It was full of dropped stitches and smelled of dust and smoke. It was precious to her. Ingrid looked around the room. There was so much— so much she would be leaving to the fire.
She laid her chosen items on the bed, and then left down the hall, toward the room she hadn’t ventured into in nearly a decade. She opened the door, and sunlight was streaming in through the windows, illuminating the heavy dust in the air. She took a deep breath and stepped in. She looked down at the small bed, dusty sheets still rumpled, piled with long forgotten stuffed animals. She smiled a watery smile and lifted the pillow to her nose. There was no scent of Emily, just dust; Ingrid was almost relieved. On the nightstand there was a cup and a small red hair ribbon; Ingrid took the ribbon and pocketed it. She turned to open the closet and searched through the hanging clothing for her second favorite of Emily’s dresses. Emily had been burned in Ingrid’s favorite.
Her mother’s handwriting on a high shelf caught her eye, on a small trunk labeled ‘Ingrid’s Belongings’. She stood on her tiptoes to retrieve it, then opened it curiously. There were baby dresses, a blanket, a large ring—no, a tiny bracelet. She shut the box and rested it on her hip while she retrieved Emily’s dress.
“Goodbye, sweet girl,” she whispered into the forgotten room, then shut the door carefully and carried her treasures back to her bedroom.
Helias was there now, examining her small collection of things. He smiled sadly at her, and she tried hard to keep her composure.
“I still need to pack some clothing,” she said, and he silently followed her to her wardrobe. She picked out a few practical things, while he found the pretty pink dress she’d worn to the inn on the day they had met and the nightgown that she’d worn the night she’d first kissed him in the garden. He looked sheepish as he held up his selections, and her chin trembled.
She found a large traveling bag, and Helias helped her fill it with everything she had collected. It sat on the bed looking small and inadequate.
“That’s everything,” she said, looking at her bag and swallowing the grief that threatened to erupt in her. She turned to her mate and embraced him briefly. “May I have a minute?” she asked, and he smiled sadly, kissed her forehead, and left the room.
Ingrid stood in the familiar room for the last time, and was overcome with a sense of finality. This home had been her family’s for as long as anyone could remember. But not anymore.
“Goodbye,” she said to the empty room. “I’m sorry.”
Then she left the room one last time, descended the staircase, and walked through the front door into the sunlight.
Twenty-six
Ingrid ran down the list of names a third time, ensuring that no one remained in the house. After finding everyone present, she handed the list to Lily and asked her to check it, too. Lily teased her briefly, but after seeing the look on Ingrid’s face she became serious, hugged her friend tightly, and began her task.
A moment later, Lily gave her a thumbs up from across the group, and Ingrid approached Helias, who was deep in conversation with Tarquin. She put her small hand on his arm and he turned to her, sorrow in his eyes.
“Everyone’s accounted for, it’s time,” she said, not quite making eye contact. He tilted her chin up gently to look into his eyes. “Please don’t—” she said, her chin trembling. “I’m trying to keep myself together, love.”
He took her hand and led her a short way from the group, then cupped her face with his big hands. “Ingrid,” he began, his bright eyes intent on her, “You’re wonderful and you’re kind and you’re selfless. What you’re doing matters.” Her chest tightened.
She glanced over at poor Annie, looking dazed, huddled with Augustus and clutching her baby to her chest. She nodded at Helias and he kissed her, hard but quickly, then walked back to collect his brothers.
Ingrid stayed where she was until they disappeared from view, and when they took flight, she came over to Annie and sat next to her. John came to sit on her other side and clasped her hand tightly. “Thank you for sharing your home with me,” he said quietly, and she turned and gave him a tremulous smile.
The group watched in silence, but as the brothers soared toward the manor Ingrid turned her face to the baby in Annie’s arms.
“He’s so beautiful,” Ingrid said to her, and Annie touched his sweet little nose and agreed. She could hear the roar of flames, and even from here, she could feel the heat. She concentrated on the child’s clear, dark eyes and tiny pink mouth. Long minutes later, Ingrid heard a deafening shuddering, groaning noise, and she knew the house was gone. She kept her attention on the baby, his tiny clenched fists, his shock of red hair.
After another moment, there was silence, and when she looked up from the baby, Annie had a hand over her mouth, watching the destruction. Ingrid didn’t want to see.
“Thank you,” Annie said then, and embraced her, and they stayed that way for a long time.
And then they were back, and Augustus was there, scooping up his son and embracing his mate, and Caelian was immediately at Margaret’s side, inspecting her for signs of improvement, and Tarquin was alone, looking inconvenienced, and Helias was finally there, lifting Ingrid, holding her.
He kissed her hair and whispered how sorry he was, and then Ingrid’s shoulders sank and great breathtaking sobs shook her all over.
Twenty-seven
The rest of the day was a time of waiting, watching, and hoping. Ingrid had shrugged off Helias’s repeated suggestions for her to rest until she was sure that the patients were improving.
John had rode ahead to procure the entire inn for their group, and before long, the patients had all been safely moved. By mid-afternoon, some were rousing from their sleep, and by the time it was dark, several were on their feet already.
Ingrid had spent the evening talking quietly to Caelian, who was standing watch over Margaret. She wasn’t the only one still asleep, but he wanted so desperately for her to wake up. Helias had been engaged in conversation with his youngest brother; Tarquin was adamant that Ingrid needed to remain here until things were more secure at home, but Helias wasn’t so sure.
He thought of his strong, willful mate. She had sacrificed her home with no question of herself or her future. Even now, through her grief and exhaustion, she was comforting his distraught brother. She was desperately afraid of being abandoned and alone, and he knew that was why she had made herself indispensable to those around her, even if she hadn’t realized it. It was also why it had taken her so long to accept her own feelings and his love fo
r her. He wanted to keep her safe, but he didn’t think that leaving her now, however briefly, would be the right way to start their new lives.
He watched her cross the room to where the bedrooms were, and she knocked quietly on the first door. Augustus opened the door and gestured for her to come in. She disappeared into the room, coming back out a few minutes later, looking pleased.
Helias caught her eye, and she smiled, rushing over before slipping into place beside him.
“The baby is much better,” she grinned, leaning into him. “He’s perfect.”
He shut his eyes in relief and pulled her head to his chest.
“I’m worried about Margaret, though,” she continued, eyeing the unconscious woman across the room.
“She’s looking better,” Helias assured her.
“I just won’t be able to relax until she’s awake,” Ingrid said, and kissed his palm gently as she returned to Caelian’s side. He watched as she placed her hand on his arm softly.
“You’ve chosen well,” Tarquin said from beside him, also watching Ingrid. “She’ll be a good queen.”
Helias nodded his agreement. “That’s why I need her with me,” he said, looking his somber brother over. “The time of loss is over. This is a time for new life.”
Tarquin glanced over at the group of residents sitting around a large table. “Maybe so,” he said thoughtfully, surprising Helias.
Margaret woke soon after, slowly, confused, and Caelian had never seemed so pleased. Augustus had joined everyone in the tavern; Annie and his son were safely asleep in the next room.
There was a palpable air of relief in the room, but when Helias looked at Ingrid, all he could see was the grief that had been on her face in her bedroom for the last time. He pulled her against him then and whispered in her ear of sleep, and he was surprised when she nodded and pulled him behind her to the very room that he had occupied before he met her, all those months ago. Ingrid stripped quickly and fell into bed, fading into a deep sleep before he was even shirtless.
He hoped to keep her with him always, if she would have him, and together they would face whatever awaited them in Arnes.
He kissed her gently and covered her up to her shoulders, then shut her in the room and proceeded to the tavern. He caught Lily’s attention and asked her to tell Ingrid that he would be back shortly, if she woke, and left into the night.
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Ingrid awoke to late morning sunlight streaming through the small window onto the small bed. Poor Helias didn’t quite fit on it, but he clutched her to him all the same, and she turned in his arms to look at his handsome face. She brushed his hair back from his brow and placed a soft kiss there, before sighing contentedly.
She was surprised that she didn’t feel more distraught over the loss of Dragongrove, but she found herself looking forward to whatever came next with him. She frowned then for a minute; she had seen his face when he learned of the unrest in his homeland, and she wasn’t sure how much she would have to argue to go with him. She would win any argument, she knew, but she wasn’t feeling quite up to the task of arguing after the whirlwind of the last few days.
He stirred at her kiss, and she found herself looking into his bright eyes.
“Good morning,” he murmured, holding her tightly and kissing her nose.
“You’re taking me with you to Arnes,” she announced.
“Yes—” he said slowly, “if you want to come.” He looked slightly confused.
“I thought you would say it isn’t safe. I thought it would be a fight I would have to win,” she said then.
He laughed. “You almost sound disappointed.”
She shrugged.
“I’m worried about your safety, certainly,” he said, “But we will be cautious, and I want you by my side. You’re my mate. If you wish to come, I won’t keep you away.”
She kissed him hard then, and when she pulled away her chin was quivering. “I wish to be with you always.”
Epilogue
Ingrid’s breathing was ragged and her heart was pounding as she walked toward her former home. The trees were gone, and all the land was pitch black with ash. She trailed behind Helias, clutching his hand, and she wasn’t sure why he wore such a big smile. He paused as they came closer and he turned to her.
“I came here last night and worked on something.”
She eyed him curiously, but allowed him to lead her forward again, and as she walked, she could see what he had done. The house was gone, of course, but in it’s place there was a field of a million small wildflowers, just opening to the morning sun. She looked up at him, confused, and he shrugged.
“We were able to purify the land with fire. New growth can take hold here now.”
“This quickly though?” she asked, looking around to see that the black ground was covered in a soft layer of green, and there were a thousand tiny saplings where the trees had been.
“That’s why I was here, love. I helped it along a bit.”
She grinned, tears in her eyes, and threw herself at him. He held her like that, face to face with her legs wrapped around him. She kissed him passionately, and he kissed her back, and she shuddered with pleasure knowing that her mate would be here to kiss her like this every day of her life.
“We’ll come back when things at home are stable, and I’ll build you a house,” he said, and she couldn’t stop tears from falling. “And in a thousand years, some skeptical little descendant of ours who lives in the house I built will insist to anyone who will listen that dragons are mythical nonsense and she’s far too practical to believe in such things.”
Ingrid laughed and wept and clung to him. “I love you,” she said, kissing all over his face. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
He set her down after a moment, and she leaned on him, looking out over Dragongrove. It would always be her home. She imagined her children running through the meadow, playing in the stream, and goosebumps covered her arms. Helias pulled her close to him and rubbed her arms.
“Are you ready to go?” he murmured, and she nodded.
He held her hand, and together they walked out of the ashes and into their new lives.
Imogen's Notes
Hi friends, thanks for reading all the way to the end! This book took a very different direction than I imagined it would, but I'm pretty satisfied with where we ended up. Book 2 continues with Ingrid and Helias, and after that we move on to explore other characters. I believe we’ll get back to Ingrid at some point, because I love her and I can’t stop thinking of things for her to do.
This was the first book I've ever written, and really, the first time I've written anything serious since I was in school. On Halloween 2017, I decided I would participate in NaNoWriMo with only one day to prepare! Although I've always been an avid reader, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. When it was all said and done, the time from writing the first word to publishing was just over five weeks.
Originally, I just started with a rough idea of having a plague, and everything sort of fell into place from there. I wanted my book to be fantasy, and I wanted there to be romance, but beyond that I didn't know what I was doing. I'd recently read a book about dragon shifters and it seemed to be just perfect for the story I had in mind, and thus, Dragongrove was born.
I just sat down to write, and once I had Ingrid as a character, it was easy to watch the story unfold through her eyes.
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I'd love to hear what you thought of the book, too. Whether you loved it, just felt it was ok, or even didn't like it, I'd really like to see your feedback. If you have a minute or two, here's a link to help you easily review Dragongrove: Mated to the Dragon King.
Amazon is only one way people find new books, so if you're willing, posting a review on Goodreads would be amazing too. To make it easy, it's perfectly normal to copy/paste your review from Amazon.
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Other books by Imogen Sera
Dragongrove Series
• Book 1: Mated to the Dragon King
◊ Ingrid & Helias
• Book 2: Becoming the Dragon Queen
◊ Ingrid & Helias
• Book 3: The Dragon Mate's Awakening
◊ Maggie & Caelian
• Book 4: Dark Dragon's Desire
◊ Mira & Tarquin
• Book 5: The Dragon Prince's Promise (Coming March 2018)
◊ Elsie & Tate