Dragon's Chosen Mate

by Riley Storm

  “How do I factor into this?” he asked, staring at her intently.

  Christine shivered. She shouldn’t like being the subject of such scrutiny from him. It shouldn’t feel so good.

  “How good are you at multi-tasking?” she asked, laying out her plan.

  Altair smiled and nodded. “One modification and we should be good.”

  He told her. Christine adjusted her plan, then called the witches to her side and explained to them what was going to happen. She received some incredulous looks, but to her surprise, none of them argued. They knew they needed to try something new, and what good was the dragon shifter if he couldn’t help them use new tactics?

  “Everyone ready?”

  The witches had organized themselves as she asked. Today, she was leading a team of eight, though with Linny down and Altair on her team, there were only six left to execute her plan.

  It would be enough. It had to be enough.

  “Go,” she commanded.

  Thick fog billowed out from Altair’s hands, rolling up and over the riverbank, spreading wide and high. She watched him work, the murky clouds quickly obscuring the lines for hundreds of feet in either direction. It should be rolling forward as well, toward the treeline, blocking the Fae’s view of the river.

  “Okay, ready,” Altair grunted, his eyes vacant as he focused on his next task.

  Christine got the final nod from her other team. “Do it.”

  Air swirled under her feet and the feet of the five other remaining witches. A moment later, they were boosted from the ground. She yelped in surprise at just how fast the ground receded below. Two discs of fast-moving air carried her teams upward in clumps of three.

  In seconds, they were a hundred feet above the battlefield, looking down at the treeline, with the sun at their backs.

  Abruptly, the fog cleared as Altair focused entirely on supporting the witches. Movement appeared at the treeline as the Fae came forward to renew their attack on the riverbed. They didn’t bother looking up. Using hand signals, Christine indicated targets. A second later, the witches attacked.

  Red beams lanced down from the heavens, and two of the Fae disappeared in purple flashes, sent back to the Abyss. The pair of remaining faeries cried out in surprise and ducked back toward the trees. Christine’s teams launched a second attack.

  Her attack blasted one from its feet, while the fourth escaped. With six witches focusing on the one creature as it shook itself and got back to its feet, the stunned Fae didn’t stand a chance.

  The ambush was broken, and most of her team had survived. Christine breathed a sigh of relief, shouting to Altair that they could come down. Her knees were a little wobbly as she touched down, but overall, she was none the worse for wear after the experiment.

  “Good job,” she said. “Now pay your respects and get into the forest. Let’s not dawdle out here in the open. The arena is still running. We aren’t done.”

  The witches darted forward, pausing to tap Linny on the forehead, the universal training sign of ‘way to die, dummy’. The downed witch took the taps with good nature.

  “Fan out in a line. Altair, left flank. Me, Jessie, Gardener, Becks, Ashley, Vanessa. Move it!”

  They formed the line and advanced through the forest. It rapidly grew darker, the trees losing their shine, turning black and dead, though they held on to their leaves. Noises sounded from deep in the darkness.

  “Easy,” she said, injecting as much calm into her voice as she could, hoping the others could feed off it.

  She saw them growing nervous, looking this way and that. The bright sun of the riverbed was a distant memory by now. Darkness, the increasing smell of sulfur, and the growling of invisible hunters was putting her team on edge. Distracting them.

  “Stay together. They won’t attack us while we’re organized,” she said calmly. “If we splinter, they’ll take us out. Altair, Vanessa, I want you to slowly drop back. We’re going to form more of a circle. Back and in. Ashley and I will form the side. Jessie, Gardener, Becks, you’re the vanguard.”

  The group continued to move forward, adjusting their shape as they went.

  “Is it just me, or is it getting warmer in here?” Ashley asked several minutes later.

  Christine had noticed it too.

  There was no time for her to respond to the question though. One moment, they were surrounded by dark forest. The next a giant blade cleaved through the forest, swiping away trees and setting the forest aflame. A mighty roar sounded as their next foe revealed themselves.

  “Shield dome!” she shouted as the war-axe came around and swept back down toward them, only to slam into a greenish protective field that protected the witches.

  The pause gave Christine time to lick her lips and wonder just what the hell she was supposed to do against a demon. The twenty-foot-tall creature with blood of pure fire stared down at the band of witches, laughing as he hauled back on his onyx-colored axe, etchings in its design filled with ever-flowing lava that flew far and wide, setting everything it touched on fire.

  “It’s a demon,” Altair whispered beside her, seeming mesmerized by the burning horns that extended another five feet into the air over the creature’s head, adding to its terrifying visage.

  Creatures darted out of the darkness now, nightmarish things, all black, with six legs, a lizard-like mouth and four bright-orange eyes on either side of the skull. They leapt up onto their hind legs as they hit the shield, razor-sharp claws slicing at the barrier, trying to penetrate it.

  “Stay strong,” Christine said as the blade crashed down again, shaking her team, bending some of them, but not breaking. None even went so far as to take a knee. They could hold it off.

  “A demon,” Altair whispered again from behind her, in awe.

  “When I say so,” she said, a plan forming. “Jessie and Becca, you will go for the legs. Gardiner, hit it in the crotch so hard the angels hear it upstairs. Ashley, Vanessa and I will keep the shield up, which means that Altair you—No!” she roared as the dragon shifter charged.

  The shield broke as something penetrated it.

  “Die!” Altair screamed, throwing himself at the demon, even as lightning shot from every angle into his body, until he practically glowed beneath the skin.

  Ashley screamed as the creatures came in and took her down. Christine whirled, trying to stop them. A blade of blue extended from her staff, slicing them in half.

  Her world went dark as something hit her from behind, and she realized she’d been “killed”.

  She heard shouting, listening to Gardener take charge, pulling what was left of her team back, fending off the creatures as she went.

  That should be me, Christine thought with a savage snarl.

  The simulation died, revealing the huge domed arena. Instantly, she was on her feet, heading toward Altair who was picking himself up from the ground fifty feet away. Christine was going to tear a strip off him so deep he’d be feeling it for days.

  How dare he do something so stupid, foolish and selfish! That was twice now that he’d screwed up so badly, she’d been forced to watch as someone else took charge of her team and got them out of a situation he created. A team that she wants, but that he was wrecking for her. He, him. Altair. Nobody else. It was his fault, and he was going to hear about it. He was done. Done!

  “What was that all about?”

  Christine came to a halt as Master Pinton stormed out of the wings, eyes filled with anger.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, stunned at the Master’s tone. “You saw what happened, he—”

  “I saw the team commander lose control of her team at the critical moment of a battle,” Pinton said sternly. “That’s what I saw.”

  “But Altair!” she tried to protest. Master Pinton’s wand swung viciously through the air, silencing her.

  “I don’t care about Altair-this, Altair-that. You are in charge, Apprentice Sinnclare. Or you were, until that shit-show.”

  The unchar
acteristic curse from the normally restrained Master caught Christine by total surprise. Why was she so mad at Christine? It wasn’t her fault! She’d been ready to kick her team into gear, to defeat the thing and move on, until Altair had decided out of nowhere to go all solo on them.

  She stood still, bristling at the dressing down she was receiving from the Master.

  “Circe told me you came to her, told her you wanted this team,” Master Pinton said at the end. “If you want it, you’re going to have to take it. This isn’t good enough.”

  Then she was gone.

  Christine shivered in anger, looking around the arena for Altair. He was gone though, having disappeared at some point while Pinton was laying into her.

  You’re not getting away that easily dragon-boy. Oh no, not that easily at all!

  She stormed from the room, intent on finding him and giving him a piece of her mind.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Altair

  He was bent over the desk, nose buried deep in a book that smelled of dust and old paper when he heard the angry intake of air through nostrils. Glancing up, he locked eyes with Christine.

  Here it comes.

  It was no surprise to him that she was here to ream him out. Altair was pissed at himself, so he expected no less from her. After all, it was his fault that the others had died.

  “Is this where you’ve run off to?” she hissed, keeping her voice low, but not holding back any anger.

  “I did not run off,” he said, frowning in confusion. Was she accusing him of cowardice? He had done no such thing at all!

  “Really? Because as soon as the simulation ended, you were nowhere to be found, despite that shitshow back there being entirely your fault. To me, that looks a lot like running away, unable to face your failure.”

  Altair shook his head. “No, you’ve got it wrong, Christine. I wasn’t running away.”

  Not this time.

  “Well then, please, enlighten me,” she drawled, her words covered in sarcasm as she crossed her arms over her chest. “This oughta be good.”

  “You’re right,” he said.

  Christine blinked. “I know I am. But…” she shook her head. “So, you admit it?”

  “Yes,” he said plainly. “I do. It was my fault.”

  “Right.” She nodded. “Good. I’m glad you know it. Don’t let it happen again then.”

  He pointed at the books in front of him. “I won’t, I promise. That’s why I’m here. I’ve pulled every book I could find, going all the way back. I’m going to read every line in them, every account, every history of events. Whatever it takes, I’ll find the answer. I’m not going to fail anyone again. I won’t make the same mistake. Next time, you’ll all survive. I promise.”

  Christine was about to leave, but something in his words slowed her, had her turning back to face him. “You won’t make the same mistake again? We’ll all survive. What are you reading here?” She leaned over the desk to take a look at the book titles.

  “Yes,” he said. “You see, I thought I had it right. I thought I understood what Master Erlinger did. I thought it was all about energy. That if enough of it was unleashed from contact with the demon, it would breach its defenses and cast it back to the Abyss. But that obviously was not the case. There is something else that Master Erlinger must have done to ensure that the demon did not survive, that sent Berith back to the Abyss. I’m not sure what, but I’m going to find it, and when I do then I can test…” he trailed off, noticing that she was staring at him now, her mouth hanging open slightly.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked half a minute later when Christine still hadn’t spoken.

  The witch cleared her throat and gave her head a shake, the usual ponytail she kept it in shaking wildly from the movement. “Let me get this right. Do you think I’m mad at you because your attack today didn’t succeed?”

  Altair nodded slowly. “Yesss. I mean, why else would you be mad at me? I screwed up, and because it didn’t die right away, you and some of the others died too. That’s on me.”

  Christine lifted a hand. “No. No, no, no. You are so far wrong, it’s almost funny. It would be funny, if this wasn’t a serious situation!”

  “I’m wrong?”

  She sighed. “Yes. I’m not mad at you for fighting the demon the wrong way. I’m furious at you for even trying in the first place, you self-absorbed moron!”

  He watched the way her face bunched up, cheeks reddening as she whisper-yelled at him. Why did he find her more attractive when she was all worked up?

  Why am I focusing on finding her attractive in the first place? You know you mustn’t allow yourself to be distracted. You have a mission, a purpose. You cannot divert from that. Not now, not when you’re so close.

  “There was no need for you to do what you did today,” she hissed furiously. “None whatsoever. I had the situation under control. The team was ready to attack, to banish the demon and its followers, when you went and did what you did.”

  “If I didn’t stop the demon, it would have killed you,” he protested. “It was too strong.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” she said softly, losing much of her malice. “You just didn’t believe in us, Altair, because you’re too focused on yourself. Too focused on doing things on your own. We’re a team. We work together. Or at least, we’re supposed to. We attack together.”

  “Then you would have died together,” he said stubbornly. “I could have stopped it alone, so nobody else died. Berith—”

  “That. Wasn’t. Berith,” she fumed. “It was a regular demon. Not a demon lord. We could have taken it. TOGETHER!”

  Her last word echoed through the library.

  “I’ve read the books,” he said quietly. “They all say that Master Erlinger stopped Lord Berith by sacrificing herself, so that no more of her companions would die.”

  Christine clenched her fists, raising them up, shaking them at him. “You need to do more research then, Altair. Berith wasn’t the first demon lord to come to earth. It’s rare, but there are other accounts. Berith is just the most recent. Master Erlinger did what she did to prevent more innocents from dying. It was a product of circumstance, not of need, or desire. If the fight was in a rural area, she wouldn’t have done it. She didn’t want to do what she did—”

  “Yes?” he asked as Christine stopped short, staring at him in open-mouthed shock.

  “You want to do this,” she said in a stunned whisper. “You want to die, to sacrifice yourself. Why is that, Altair? Why do you want to die so badly?”

  “Who said I want to die?” he retorted, not liking where the conversation was headed.

  Christine was prying into things she shouldn’t be, asking questions he didn’t want to answer. Altair had his reasons, his desire to prove himself, and that was all that mattered. She didn’t need to know anything more about it. Period. End of story.

  “Then why are you acting like it?” the witch asked, leaning over the table and pressing one finger into it. “Throwing yourself at the demon today, without acting as a team. Obsessed with Master Erlinger. Everything screams out to me that you want to go the same route.”

  “You have it wrong,” he said, closing the book.

  “No, I don’t think I do,” Christine said, standing her ground. “What’s going on with you, Altair? Please, tell me. Maybe I can help.”

  That was too much. Altair shook his head, standing up. “This conversation is over,” he said quietly. “I don’t need you prying into my life.”

  “But, Altair, I’m not trying to pry,” she protested.

  He ignored her, walking out from the table and heading toward the exit, leaving her behind.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Christine

  She watched him go, deciding not to follow.

  “That the hell was that all about?” she whispered to herself. “I thought we were making progress!”

  Everything that they had accomplished the past few days now seemed like a giant waste o
f her time. The way that they had begun working together during their sessions in the arena. Altair had obviously been studying up on his Abyssal lore, learning what creatures were affected by what, their strengths and weaknesses.

  He was good, too. A very quick learner rarely needed to be told more than once. She’d watched with pride as he quickly became a useful, if rarely used, part of her team. It was difficult to adjust tactics that the witches had known all their lives, to alter them to include something and someone, totally different. But they had begun to take the first steps.

  Then today had hit, and she’d watched all that discipline, training and teamwork go right out the door.

  Sitting down at the desk, she looked at the stack of books he’d pulled. All of them had something to do with Master Erlinger, from her early life, to the battle with Lord Berith, the demon lord.

  “Dammit,” she snapped, slamming a fist down on top of the nearest book as she realized a heavy truth.

  She couldn’t have someone so obsessed with dying in a blaze of glory on her team. Despite all the strengths and positives that he brought with his dragon powers and muscle, Altair was a weakness in his current state. A liability that she just could not afford.

  The biggest thing that Christine had learned about teamwork over the years, was trust. Without it, any real team simply ground to a halt and would not function. On a team, people had to handle different tasks. No one person could do it all. To ensure this happened smoothly, everyone on the team needed to trust everyone else on the team to get their job done.

  “How am I supposed to trust him?” she moaned, burying her face in her hands, knowing the simple truth of it.

  She couldn’t. Today had been the perfect example of it. At the worst possible moment, he’d ignored the rest of the team and gone off on his own. They had been left exposed, and weakened, and two of them had perished from it before the others could gather and retreat.