by Riley Storm
“I think so,” she said, wincing, but taking his hand to help her sit up. “Stings a little, and my ego is going to be black and blue from the embarrassment, but all in all, I’ll survive, I promise.”
“Good,” he said strongly, happy to hear that she wasn’t hurt. Despite her prying into his personal life, Altair was slowly coming to realize he liked having this woman around, that he maybe even enjoyed their verbal sparring a little bit. She was quick, smart, and seemed able to read him well.
He liked working with her.
“So, what has you concerned with my well-being all of a sudden?” Christine wanted to know as he righted her chair and helped her back into it.
She sat with a sigh and a pat on his arm as thanks for his help. This time, she didn’t rock back in it while talking to him. Instead, she leaned over on the table, keeping herself propped up by her elbows.
“What are you talking about? I’ve always wanted you to be okay,” Altair said to answer her question, confused that she would even ask it. “I’ve never tried to hurt you. Why would I start now? I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I,” Christine said. “You say right now that you’ve always been concerned with my well-being. That you want me to be okay.”
“Exactly.”
“So how come earlier today then, you left me exposed and vulnerable while we were on the mission?”
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“You broke the line, Altair. You went out to try and play superhero, and in the process, you left our flank exposed. The demon’s followers came at us. I died today, Altair, because of you. How can you say you care about my well-being, but then go and do that?”
“I was trying to defeat the demon,” he said stubbornly. “If I had, it would have been fine.”
“The demon didn’t kill us,” Christine snapped, slamming a hand down on the table. “Your actions did. The followers came at us and broke our lines because you made us vulnerable when we weren’t ready to be. You didn’t act as part of the team. So why did you do what you did?” she snarled.
“You need to mind your own business,” he rumbled angrily. “That was not what I was doing.”
“I don’t care what you think you were doing, Altair. I care about what happened. The cold, hard facts of what happened. You broke the line. By doing so, you compromised our shield, and allowed the demon followers in to come attack us. That happened. Your focus on yourself, and not on the team, meant that I did. Because of you.”
Altair shook his head, trying to deny her words, to push them out of his head. “No,” he said weakly.
“I trusted you to protect our flank, Altair. To hold the line and help us defeat the enemy. I put my trust in you, and you didn’t do that. You went off on your own. How can you expect me to trust you in the real world, if you can’t be a part of the team in training? Do you understand what I’m trying to say? Why I’m being so forceful with you? I want to live, Altair, as does every other witch on the team. Right now, you’re making it so that we can’t!”
He cringed at her words. She was right of course. She’d died because of him. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, and now it was happening again. Why couldn’t he just seem to get it right? Why couldn’t he figure out how to do things the right way?
“I was just trying to kill the bad guy,” he whispered. “To make sure nobody else was harmed.”
Christine licked her lips, taking her time to answer. She was looking at him with emotions other than anger. Worry. Confusion. Fear. Altair hated that, hated seeing such things reflected in her eyes. He wanted her to like him, to appreciate him.
Why do you want that? You’re supposed to be keeping your distance from everyone. If you develop feelings, then you get hurt, and they get hurt. Or they die. Pull back, Altair. Pull back now, before it’s too late.
He couldn’t help but wonder if it was already too late.
“You were trying to kill the bad guy, I know,” Christine said. “I don’t deny that you were trying to kill him. But you were trying to do it on your own. You didn’t give anything else a chance. You’re obsessed with the idea that you, and only you can do this. That I’m not capable of it, that the rest of us aren’t worthy of it. That you’re so much better than us. Why Altair? Why can’t you try another solution?”
“You wouldn’t understand!” he shouted, slamming his hand down on the table, denting the metal top as he stood up.
He looked down in surprise, not having realized how close he was to the edge. Christine was staring at the table, at the easy way he’d nearly broken it with an inadvertent display of a portion of his strength.
“Try me,” she whispered, standing up, slipping to the side of the table to edge closer to him. “I am not some frail, easily offended type. I can handle whatever you have to say Altair, no matter what it might be. You just need to trust me and give me a chance.”
He shivered, watching her, looking deep into her eyes, feeling himself being pulled in deep, just like the other day with the snow elementals.
Trusting was the first step to caring.
Caring led to pain.
Altair wasn’t sure he could handle any more pain.
Chapter Seventeen
Christine
Her neck was starting to kink from looking up at him for so long, but Christine pushed the feeling aside, watching his face, waiting for him to speak.
This was the closest she’d ever been to him before, and she was realizing now just how big he was. She’d known it intellectually, of course; it was easy to see. He, like the other dragons, towered above the witches. He was strong and buff, his arms bigger than her thick legs at some points.
But this near, in such proximity to him, Christine not only noticed it, but she felt it. She could feel his sheer, oppressive size. It made her feel tiny and insignificant, in the most delightful of ways.
Then there was the heat. Whether because his blood was up, or naturally, she didn’t know, but Altair was practically radiating heat. It tickled her skin and teased goosebumps all up and down her front and sent shivers down her spine as it reached out to embrace her, pulsing its waves across her body.
Or was that her own heat rising to match him? Was she feeding off him somehow, the simple act of being so close to him causing her to warm, her blood to flow faster? She didn’t know.
Footsteps sounded nearby.
“Everything okay over here?”
Their heads whirled to see the face of someone else poking around the corner of the stacks.
“Yeah, just fine,” she said with a nod. “Book fell, that’s all.”
The other witch glanced at her, then at Altair, before her eyes were drawn to the table with its massive dent.
“Um, okay. Sure.”
“All is well,” Altair rumbled stately. “We’re sorry if the noise disturbed you. It won’t happen again.”
The witch smiled broadly at Altair. “Okay, sure. Not a problem. Bye.” Her gaze lingered for a moment longer, triggering a spike of irritation in Christine.
Am I jealous?
“Your spell must have come down,” Altair said as the other witch departed, leaving them alone again.
The tension she’d felt before was gone though, broken by the interruption, leaving her dejected, many thoughts of just where it might have led brushed aside. Why was she sad about that though? And what was with her getting so angry at the look the other witch gave Altair?
Christine was asking a lot of questions of herself, which was the exact opposite reasoning she’d used when coming to see Altair. This was supposed to be about him, not her. She needed to focus.
“Must have been when I fell,” she said, realizing she’d yet to acknowledge his comment. “Concentration kinda disappears when you get bumped on the head sometimes.” She focused her mind on her magic and cast the spell again, once more wrapping them in privacy.
“Why are you here?” Altair asked, looking down at her with all the weight of his
blue-eyed gaze.
Christine was caught up in it once more, unable to look away, just like with the snow elementals. She stared directly into his face, trying to read the unreadable emotions contained within, trying to piece together just what was driving him to do what he had done?
“I told you,” she said quietly, noting that neither of them had moved apart, leaving very, very little room between them. “I came to try and find out what’s wrong.”
“No. I mean why is it you?” he repeated, changing the focus of his question. “Why not Master Pinton? Why not Gardener? Why you? Why does no one else come to chastise me and pry into my life, but you do?”
She hesitated. “I didn’t come here to chastise you, Altair. That was never my intention, even if I did. I’m trying to understand. Because you won’t let me in at all.”
Altair frowned, but she pushed onward.
“What would you do in my place?” she asked, throwing the question, and her entire scenario, back at him, forcing him to analyze it from a different perspective.
Altair thought about it for a few moments, but all he could do was shake his head helplessly. He didn’t have an answer. She hadn’t thought he would, because there wasn’t one. She was doing what she had to do.
“As for why me?” she said quietly. “Well…I was told that I might have the best chance of getting through to you?”
“Why is that?” Altair asked hoarsely.
Shivering at the suspense, the pressure filling her little bubble, Christine threw caution to the wind. Now wasn’t the time to hold back, and truthfully, she didn’t want to hold back. She wanted everything out in the open, so that they could stop this little dancing around one another, and figure out whatever this truly was, if it was anything at all.
“Because apparently, we have some sort of connection,” she replied, biting her lip for a moment before realizing what she was doing and calming her face.
“We do?”
“So I’ve been told,” she said with a wry smile. “By several people. They see us looking at one another during training all the time. They think we’re…we’re a thing,” she said, hanging her head in embarrassment, not really sure why she’d said all that out loud.
“I’m sorry,” Altair said, drawing her attention back up to his face from where she’d been staring. Which, she realized abruptly, was not the ground.
Cheeks burning, she lifted her head, terrified that he would know where she’d been looking, even if she hadn’t meant to be.
“I find you very attractive,” Altair said. “Which is probably why I was looking a lot. You’re very pleasing to the eye, but I didn’t mean to be staring, especially not in any sort of awkward, or uncomfortable way. I’m sorry if I made you uneasy.”
She smiled. “Thanks,” she said, unsure of how else to respond to the compliment. It felt very unnatural for someone of Altair’s…stature, to be complimenting her, saying that he found her physically good looking. She didn’t know what to say. “I didn’t know I was looking until someone pointed it out to me.”
The two of them paused for a moment, then they shared an awkward laugh, trying to unhinge the situation.
But like magnets, their eyes returned to one another. There was a lot left unsaid between them. A lot left undone. Neither were denying the attraction they felt for the other, or the intensity of the moment.
Aren’t we?
There was only one way to find out.
Casting caution to the wind, along with doubt and fear, Christine reached up, taking a fistful of his shirt and pulling him down to her level.
There was a brief moment of hesitation where her actions caught him off guard, but Altair responded. He responded.
She wasn’t sure why that surprised her so, but it did. His lips met hers, and she shivered with unanticipated delight at the warmth and feel. Her body was alive, blood singing as it rushed through her veins.
They were making out. In the library.
This is hot!
Altair growled with what she could only assume was desire as the kiss deepened, his hands finding their way to her ample waist, grabbing it and casually lifting her up onto the table.
New heat flooded her body, warmth pooling between her legs at the dismissive way he’d moved her frame, putting her where he wanted her. It was the tiniest bit of manhandling, and yet she could already feel her body straining at the clothing under her robes, aching to be set free, to feel those hands on the rest of her. She craved it.
Craved him.
A knee pushed between her legs and she didn’t resist as he spread her legs wide, stepping up between them even as his tongue pushed past her lips, forcing its way in, exploring her mouth.
Something thumped next to them as a book slid off the table, dislodged by their passionate makeout session. Christine didn’t care, and she wasn’t going to stop. Not with the way Altair had her feeling, the desire to take him inside her rising with every passing second.
Was he going to take her here, in the middle of the library? Someone might see them!
With a flash of surprise, Christine came to the abrupt conclusion that she liked that thrill, the possible knowledge that someone might catch them. It was hot.
Altair’s hands fiddled with her robes, pulling them open at the top, revealing her plain black t-shirt beneath. She moaned softly as he grabbed at her breasts, feeling them beneath the much thinner material.
She didn’t stop him when he started to tug on the shirt, lifting it up in an attempt to expose her chest to him further. One hand was still locked around his neck, keeping his mouth pressed to hers, but the imagined sensation of his lips locked around her nipples was proving to be a mighty distractor, something she wanted badly.
“What are you two doing?”
The two of them froze at the sound of a throat clearing behind Altair’s back. He pulled back from the kiss, their eyes meeting for the first time since she’d proceeded with her wild idea.
“Uhh.” It wasn’t her finest moment, but in the heat of things, it was the best she could manage.
“Yeah.”
Thankfully, Altair wasn’t able to do much better.
She grabbed his shoulder, trying not to bite her lip at the taut muscle under her fingers as she pushed him slightly to the side so she could see beyond him.
The same witch from earlier was there, not looking at them directly, but instead doing everything in their power to look everywhere but at them. But standing next to her was the Master of the library. Christine knew her by look, but they weren’t otherwise familiar with one another, thankfully.
“Your spell came down again, didn’t it?” Altair rumbled in her ear.
“Uh huh.” Apparently, she still couldn’t use her words.
“There’s someone standing there, isn’t there?”
She nodded rather than sound stupid again.
“I’m speaking to you!” the Master said. “Break it up. That’s enough.”
Christine moaned softly. “I can’t get in trouble. I’ll never get the team if she finds out who I am.”
“I guess we had better make a break for it then,” Altair suggested.
“Are you serious? She’s standing right behind you.”
“Not to worry. I can get us out of here, if that’s what you want.”
She nodded again, pulling him back upright so he blocked her from view while she fixed her shirt and tightened her robes.
“Ready when you are,” Altair said with a grin.
“What do you mean?”
“Hold on tight.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, wondering why she was suddenly trusting him now, after everything he’d already done.
“Legs too,” he urged.”
“Ooook.” Confused, she did as she was told, clinging to him like a little spider monkey.
Wind swirled up around them and they shot sideways. Christine shrieked in surprise, while the Master bellowed in anger. Then the wind changed direction abruptly and th
ey raced down another aisle. Behind them, books fluttered, and some came partially out of their shelves but Altair kept his control so fine that most of them were untouched by the passing vortex of human, dragon and air.
It was like being in a tube, propelled along by air pressure from behind. They reached the open area and went up, skipping the need for the stairs entirely. Christine closed her eyes, not wanting to see everything flash past so quickly. They abruptly zipped left and then right again, narrowly avoiding a panicked first year who shouted in surprise and dropped her books.
“Sorry!” Christine yelped, not sure if her words would carry outside the bubble.
Then they shot out into the corridors of Winterspell itself, heading up to the top, skimming above the heads of the other witches at breakneck pace.
All at once, they were outside, flying up high into the sky, alighting on an empty balcony.
“There. See, I told you I could get you out of there,” Altair said, gently letting her down.
“Thank you so much,” she said, resting a hand on his chest, looking up into his sapphire blue eyes, smiling wide from cheek to cheek. That had been fun. On all accounts.
She laughed. Altair joined in, and for a moment everything was carefree.
“I’m glad I trusted you this time,” she said, hoping he would understand.
Her words had an adverse effect, though. Altair went rigid as could be, and his face drained of blood, going pale as the snow that surrounded Winterspell.
“I’m sorry,” he said abruptly, backing away from her. “I…I can’t stay. I have to go. Now.”
Before she could protest, he started to change. At the same time, he turned and ran for the lip, launching himself into the air on a mighty gust of wind.
Christine raced after him, stopping short of taking to the skies after him. But she watched in awe as he became a brilliant blue dragon, his shield-sized scales matching the sapphire brilliance of his eyes from a moment before. He flapped them once, twice, then disappeared up into the cloudy sky at a pace she would have been hard-pressed to keep up with.
She rested her hands on the stone railing, staring after him, lost in thought.