by Maggie Ryan
“Goodbye, Deo,” I whispered, laying my face back down and letting my tears stream onto the scales of my dragon. I kept my head down for a few moments, collecting myself, then slowly I rose up, inch by inch until I was sitting up. Feeling more confident that I would not fall, I took in the view below us.
The castle was small now, the size of a child’s toy. I looked over my shoulder but could no longer see Deo. The land was beautiful from my aerial view. The stone wall surrounding the castle, the upper and lower courtyards, overgrown gardens I had yet to explore—I watched as it all disappeared from my view, hidden behind the trees.
Leaving Ravensloft behind, I looked forward, bracing myself for the journey to come.
Chapter Twelve
Draco
It’s amazing how love can cloud your judgment.
Muttering an oath under my breath, I watched the tiny ember flicker out. Sighing, I reached for the bow I’d fashioned from a stick and one of my shoelaces, set the drill into the small hole of the fireboard and once again began to rapidly rotate the drill using the bow.
“I thou… thought dra… dragons brea… breathe fire,” Cassandra said, the words broken apart as her teeth clicked together uncontrollably.
She wasn’t the only one who was longing for my dragon’s breath. Not pausing to think, I’d transformed back to man as soon as I had hit the ground, wanting to reassure Cassandra all was well. Now I was being forced to create a fire from what I could find in my surroundings. I had nothing, save the black box I had attached to my belt so Artem and Dolly could track us. Could I not have at least thrown a pack of matches in the pocket of my trousers? Allowing my love to cloud the reality of the situation had been a mistake because it was a hell of a lot harder to create an ember from rubbing sticks together than survivalists made it look like on television. I had just wanted Cassandra away from the house, the castle, the office, anywhere they may look for her, as soon as possible. But that was not an excuse for not being better prepared for this trip.
I looked over at her now. She sat, shivering, her coat wrapped tightly around her on the log I had placed before the fire pit.
“Yeah, that’s what the legends say,” I said, the stick twirling faster as I applied pressure to it, needing as much friction as possible to create an ember that would last longer than a split second. Giving a shrug, I grinned as I imagined a picture in my head, sharing it with her. “But, have you ever heard of a dragon with enough hand coordination to build such a magnificent pile of twigs and logs as are in our fire pit? Not to mention, I’m afraid that if I breathed fire, it would most likely set the entire forest on fire, which would certainly warm you rather quickly, but would also pinpoint our location.”
“Oh, that… makes se… sense,” she said. She smiled and gestured to my hands. “I ima… imagine pick… picking up kin… kind… kindl… sticks is har… hard with claws.”
I was proud of her, making light of her discomfort, not blaming me for the fact that she was now facing fucking hypothermia, but the stuttered sentence made me curse my stupidity yet again. Redoubling my efforts, I left the fantasy story behind and said, “Right now I’d chance a forest fire if I could, but it takes a tremendous amount of energy to transform. Until I rest and refuel with thousands of calories, I’m afraid you’re stuck with just plain me.”
“Not stuck,” she said instantly. “I… love you… in any fo… form you ta… take.” I was about to speak when she practically fell off the log, pointing and shouting. “Smoke!”
I looked down and watched a tendril of white curling up from the fireboard. Holding my breath, I set aside the bow and lifted the small base. Softly blowing on the ember, watching it flare brighter, I muttered a prayer as I carefully set it on top of the small twigs. As first one and then another caught, I grinned as I began to add more sticks to the pile.
“It won’t be long now,” I said, fanning the flames. “This fire will grow and Dolly and Artem shall join us, soon.”
She gave me her tightlipped ‘tough girl’ smile, as I had labeled it. Always wanting to please. Always wanting to be hard, when inside we all knew she held the wonderment of a child.
The fire was catching, but wasn’t yet what I’d consider a campfire. Standing, I removed my shirt and sweater as one piece of clothing. Her eyes flickered up—she was infatuated with the mark of the dragon splayed across my chest.
“T… tell me a… about your tat… too,” she demanded.
I held the clothing out to her. “Here, put these on, first. It isn’t much but the more layers we can get on you the better.”
Her teeth chattering loudly, she asked me, “Wi… will you b… be warm eno… enough?”
“Of course, my love.” I helped her into the extra layers, dressing her back into her coat and buttoning it up to her neck The fire, now a respectable size, gave quite a bit of warmth. Wrapping my arms as tightly around her as they would go, I warmed her body with my bare skin. “I might not be able to spit fire, but I still have it within me. The ‘tattoo,’ as you call it, is the mark of the dragon. It appeared the first time I transformed to a dragon. When I shifted back, breathless and in shock—I had anticipated becoming a wolf again, as I had always done before—the mark was burned into my chest. Deo has yet to find a case of another dragon in all his studies of our people.”
“It’s marvelous—you as a dragon. You were so beautiful, and powerful. I was scared at first. But then when you nuzzled my hand, I wanted to ride you so badly.”
“Did you enjoy your flight?” I asked.
Cassandra turned to me, her beautiful large green eyes widening in wonderment. “Oh, Draco,” she said, “it was amazing. To glide on the wind, to have nothing but open sky around you.” As if embarrassed at the enthusiasm of her proclamation, she turned her face back to the fire. “It must be wonderful—to be able to fly,” she said wistfully.
I smiled. “I won’t lie. I do love it. The feel of the wind, the power of the wings, it is quite a thrill.”
“Tell me about when you first found out about the curse. About the first time you transformed,” she asked meekly, throwing me a glance from the corner of her eye. It reminded me of a child requesting a bedtime story.
I leaned over to poke at the fire. The flames were roaring now, and Cassandra’s words were no longer accompanied by the clicking of her teeth. When I settled back by her side, she snuggled deeper into my embrace.
“It is a long story. Maybe one for another day,” I teased.
As always, Cassandra did not relent. “Well, unless this is no more than a brief layover on some connecting flight to our final destination, I don’t think we have any plans for tonight,” she teased right back. Giving my ribs a gentle nudge with her elbow, she pressed, “Tell me.”
Dropping a kiss on top of her head, pulling her just a smidgen closer, I told her my story.
“When I turned thirteen, my father came to me and told me of the curse that had been placed on our family centuries ago in ancient Greece. About Donte Ambrosia and his hunt to find the enchantress to help, to show him how to break the curse. But when he discovered there was no way to do so, Donte, as you know, offered his life to provide future generations of Ambrosias with white magic—powers to fight the curse if we could not break it. The sacrifice he offered to protect those he loved was accepted as the gift it was and returned in the form of talismans to enable us to continue to fight the battle against the darkness.
“Through the generations, the talismans took on various forms until they became the buckles we wear on our belts today.” I saw her eyes drop down to the buckle at my waist. When she’d first examined one closely, she’d marveled over the engraving that covered it. Ravensloft, the surrounding woods, man and the wolf that existed within him were all set into the platinum. Though the leather belts were of different colors, every male in our pack wore an identical buckle. I waited until she looked up again before I continued the tale.
“On our thirteenth birthday, every Ambrosia male
learns of the curse and is able to see the spiritual realm at that time. It is as if a veil is lifted—what once was ordinary life now becomes a constant battle of good versus evil to our eyes. We can see the dark spirits. Each male is presented a belt to hold their talisman and begins their training in the ways of transformation. We are taught to master certain powers we are given at that time.”
“How did you react? I mean—thirteen, that’s young to find out your life is…”
“Supernatural?”
“Yes.”
I grinned, remembering how I’d sat, awed at what my father was telling me, sure it was some sort of practical joke. With a chuckle, I poked the fire and shook my head. “Are you kidding? Thirteen-year-old boys live to be told they have superpowers and can transform to wolves. I was overjoyed. It wasn’t until I fully experienced seeing the dark side of the world that I understood my new tricks came with a heavy burden.
“I had a friend—a best friend—whom I respected greatly. His name was Antoine, and I wanted to be this boy. He could climb the highest trees, run like the wind—beat us in every race. And smart, too. I never saw him study once. Many times I was tempted to cheat off of his tests, for he always got perfect scores.
“The first time I saw him after turning thirteen, something had… changed. It was as if my friend carried a dark cloud around him that I had been blind to, before. His eyes gave off a strange reddish glow that only I could see. It unnerved me and I began to avoid him.” My words stopped, my stomach roiling with nausea as I remembered that dark time.
“What happened?” Cassie asked softly, sitting on the edge of her log, her fingers clutching my arm.
“One day, I had this terrible sense of unease.” My throat suddenly felt very thick—I had not shared this story in over a decade. “I tried to shake it off, but it wouldn’t stop. I felt a strong pull to go to his home; I followed it—though I dreaded to. I opened the door, hearing a keening coming from upstairs. I went as quietly as I could, feeling as if I would be sick. I opened the door to his bedroom—where the crying was.” Memory of the sound still haunted me, my throat tightening as I paused. It took me a few moments before I could continue. I cleared my throat. “Daphne, his sister was there… sobbing as if her heart was broken. At first she was crying so hard she couldn’t tell me what was wrong. She was hunched over, her arms wrapped around her middle, rocking back and forth. I saw a leash and this rhinestone-studded collar on the floor. She’d gotten a puppy for her birthday and… suddenly, I just… knew. Still I prayed I was wrong. She finally told me. Her brother, my friend, had found the puppy chewing on his baseball glove. She said she begged him to let him go, told him she’d give him all of her allowance to buy him another one… a better one, but he just said that she needed to learn that those who fucked with him paid the price. He broke the puppy’s neck right in front of her. She was just eight years old.”
“Oh, my God, Draco. How terrible!”
“Yes. It was horrific. I finally got her to let me see what she was clutching… it was her dog. The bastard had killed the puppy and then simply walked away. We found a box, she wrapped him in one of her scarves, and we went outside and had a funeral. It was the first time either of us had really faced the death of anyone that had meant something to us, but she had really loved that little mutt. We buried him right beneath a rose bush. It started to rain but she wouldn’t leave the grave. Shit, Cassie. She lay down over that mound of dirt, because she didn’t want him to get wet. I knew she wasn’t going to let me take her inside, so I went back into the house to get her an umbrella and found Antoine sitting at the kitchen table. I could see Daphne, lying in the dirt, patting the ground like she was petting Cuddles—that was the puppy’s name—and knew he’d watched everything… had sat there eating a goddamned sandwich while his little sister buried the only pet she’d ever had.
“I saw red. I flew over the table, grabbing him out of the chair, dislocating his shoulder in the process. I hadn’t meant to—I was just so much stronger than I knew. I beat the living shit out of him until Daphne pulled at me, begging me to stop. Thankfully his family didn’t file charges… I’m sure his sister was the reason and I was grateful when I learned that Antoine was being sent to some private school far away.” I paused, remembering how I’d occasionally see Daphne about town. She’d always give me a soft smile and small wave, but I knew there was a sadness, an inherent mistrust that had taken root inside her that day that would remain with her forever.
I watched as silent tears slid down Cassandra’s cheeks, knowing that she was hurting as Daphne had that day so long ago. Pulling her closer, kissing the top of her head, I spoke again. “The story is terrible and there are so many others that are even more horrific. The gifts we’ve been given, the freedom of flight, the inhuman strength and endurance, the ability to shift are wondrous, yes, but each has a price. The lifting of the veil is a great burden at times. It helps us detect evil, fight, help others, but once revealed, you learn that you’ll never again live in the world that you believe is pure, one where true evil does not exist.”
We sat in silence for a long moment, her fingertips gently rubbing my arm as she stared into the fire.
“Is that why you and Deo have such urges to control? Because so much of your life was out of control? The choice taken out of your hands at thirteen?” she whispered, as if speaking to herself.
“In a way, yes, I suppose. I work hard to be in complete control of my body and mind.”
“You don’t drink, you don’t indulge in food, drugs, or gossip. Do you have any vices?”
“I had one. But thank the Gods, I am no longer tortured by it.”
“What was it?”
I reached over to draw a fingertip down her cheek, grateful the tears had stopped and traced the lips that tasted so very sweet. “You. I loved you long before you knew me.”
Blushing, she looked up at me. “When you saw me in the courtroom?”
“Yes. I will be forever indebted to Deo for being willing to share you. Grateful that you recognized that you have not one but two men who are your soulmates. Thankful that he, you, and I were given the true gift… the trinity. It would have been a long, lonely life. Remaining your guardian, staying so close by you, but being unable to touch you, to love you.” I leaned down, my lips pressing against hers. The kiss was interrupted by a rumble from her stomach.
“You’re hungry. Of course,” I chuckled. “Let me find us some food. Wait here—I’ll be gone but a minute.”
Walking just past the edge of the woods, I transformed quickly. Within minutes I procured our dinner, using my claws to skin the deer. Leaving the meat on top of the fresh snow, I transformed back before returning to the fire. Creating a spit over the flames, I set the venison to roast, turning it occasionally, the aroma filling the air and making me salivate.
Cassandra ate one of the venison steaks, while I consumed ten times as much, the edges crispy, the fat dripping from our fingers. When we had finished, I led Cassandra along a faint game trail to the creek, where the untainted stream ran clean. As we sipped from the freezing water scooped into our cupped hands, we were joined by a visitor. There in the twilight, a great moose stepped from the trees on the opposite side of the stream.
His giant head and antlers turned in both directions before dipping to the water to drink.
“He’s beautiful,” Cassandra whispered.
“He is,” I said, admiring the animal’s beauty as he snuffed his large black nose at us, then moved away. With just a few steps, he had vanished into the thick woods again.
Cassandra looked at me curiously. “Where are we, Draco?”
“Maine.”
Her delicate brows knitted together. “How fast do you fly?” she mused.
“Quite fast,” I said, taking her hands in mine to warm them before replacing her gloves. Even in the short time her hands had been bare, she’d begun to shiver from the cold.
“Here,” I said, scooping her up and holding her in
my arms. I pressed my bare chest against her, hoping the heat would transfer between our bodies.
She did not protest, but instead curled herself up tightly into a ball on my chest, within my arms. To my dismay, her teeth once again took to chattering.
“I’m o… okay…” she began, her clicking teeth causing her words to stutter.
“Shhh,” I cooed. “Let’s get you warm.”
Clenching her jaw, she shut her mouth tightly, pressing her face against my chest and out of the freezing wind. Jogging, I brought her back to the fireside. Sitting on the ground, my legs crossed, I held her tightly. “Better?” I asked, wrapping my entire upper body around her, trying to block the cold from her.
“Mmm,” she said, her body relaxing as the heat began to seep into her body.
Finally, her teeth stopped their chattering, and she fell into a fitful sleep in my arms.
* * *
The headlights appeared out of nowhere, rousing Cassandra by the fireside. She sat up, her eyes wide, her startled cry attesting to her fear.
“Shh, it’s okay,” I said, stroking her arm. “It’s only Artem and Dolly.”
“How… how did they find us?”
I smiled, seeing her eyes flick from the vehicle to the fire and then to me, knowing what she was thinking. “Not from the flames; from this,” I said, tapping the black box I’d clipped to my belt. “It works as a tracker and theirs is able to locate ours.” A sleek silver RV pulled right up beside our campground. The shiny door opened, and Artem stepped out, turning to grasp his wife around the waist and lifting her down to the ground.
Her legs stiff, Cassandra fumbled out of my lap, standing to greet them.
“Hello!” Dolly called, rushing over to us. Grabbing Cassie up in a tight squeeze, she proclaimed, “Child, you are freezing. Let’s get you into the camper. It’s not the Hyatt, but it’s really quite homey. We’ll have a place to stay and to sleep for the time being. We have a propane heater that will keep you nice and toasty. There’s bottled water, a gas grill, and enough food for a dozen grown Greek men. Margaret wouldn’t stop packing.”