by Riley Storm
“I promised you, what feels like forever ago I’m sure, that I would look into something for you, Apprentice Sinnclare.”
It took Christine a moment to figure out what Circe meant. “You mean my Test?”
“Yes. I talked to everyone involved, and your past evaluators, to get an idea of your progress and to see if it matched my beliefs in you, and what you are capable of,” Circe said formally, sitting straight, head tilting up to look at her better.
There might have been a hint of golden light deep in the hood as light caught the other woman’s eyes, but if so, it was only for a split second before shadows hid everything again.
“Hopefully, I have not disappointed you,” Christine said quietly.
“Quite the contrary,” Circe said. “Your evaluators, supervisors and peers all had nothing but glowing words of praise for you. Many of the Masters have said they expect great things out of you. One even said I should be careful because you’d be coming for my job sooner than I expect.”
Christine smiled and laughed politely. “I’m not sure they got that one right, but I do appreciate their support.”
“As such,” Circe continued. “I have found fit to rule that your Test, despite technically not being completed, as a pass. Given that it was through no fault of your own that it was interrupted by myself, for something deemed far greater, and based on your efforts with your team, I believe it would be a great disservice to fail you.”
“Thank you, Circe,” Christine said quietly. She’d totally forgotten about the Test in all the uproar that had followed Lord Berith’s arrival and the formation of the response team.
“I therefore wish to formally welcome you into your tenth and hopefully final year of Apprenticeship at Winterspell. If you succeed in your challenge, then it will also be my pleasure to welcome you into the ranks of Master. A place I believe you will continue to excel.”
“Thank you, Circe,” she repeated. “But I must ask a question.”
“Of course,” Circe said, sounding like she expected such a response.
“You said if I pass my challenge, not my Test. Was that a purposeful choice of words?”
“You picked up on that, good.” Circe stood and motioned for Christine to follow as she walked back toward the rift on the rear wall where ocean swells rose and fell with satisfying randomness.
“You’re right. Normally, it is another Test, to see if you are ready for the rank of Master.” Circe shrugged. “However, given the current circumstances, I have a better plan in mind. One that will truly demonstrate that you have what it takes to be a Master, both in power, and leadership. I’ve made no secret that I expect to see you on the Coven shortly, Christine, and that if you want it, you will eventually ascend to my position as the Head of Winterspell. To do that, you must both be strong witches. You have demonstrated this before, and if my reports about the binding of dragon and witch are correct, it means you have only grown stronger as a result of your relationship with Altair.”
Christine only bowed her head. She was past asking where Circe got her information from. Winterspell was hers, and the woman knew everything that happened there with uncanny accuracy.
Maybe one day, I too will understand.
“Spending another year studying and taking a Test is a waste of your abilities at this point,” Circe said. “So, I have another task for you.”
“Of course. I am interested and flattered by what you say,” Christine said. Her curiosity by this point was driving her wild. I just want to know!
“To this point, your response team has been little more than a unit thrown together hastily. We have not had need of one here at Winterspell before, so it was all done from scratch. Would you agree?”
Christine nodded.
“Your job is to formalize everything. Build your team, find them a home. Plan out training regimens, recruitment standards. You will learn where to base them, their preferred numbers, how to handle replacements. You will source all supplies and ensure they are ready for whatever you need. In effect, I am making you the head of this department. Build it from the ground up, every aspect of it.”
Christine swallowed. That was a huge task. Formalize and standardize everything about a brand-new team?
“You have one year,” Circe said, turning to face her, sticking her hand out. “I expect you to be done in less.”
Christine was scared, but ideas were already entering her head.
“I want to give the team a name,” she said, reaching out to take the hand.
“I thought you might,” Circe said quietly. “What do you want to call yourselves?”
“We are the Furies.”
The two women shook.
Chapter Forty
Altair
Wakefulness came to him slowly.
Only when he was overcome with an unceasing urge to yawn did he open his eyes and become aware of his surroundings.
“Hey there, handsome.”
He rolled onto his side to see Christine awake, watching him from her side of the bed.
“Hi,” he said, eyes closing again while he smiled at her, still fighting off the last vestiges of sleep.
“How did you sleep?” she asked, reaching out to stroke his face and run her fingers through his hair.
“Not bad,” he said, rolling back over to grab the towel he kept at his side to wipe off the usual sweat.
He frowned as the material scraped over his skin rather more painfully. Why wasn’t it soaking anything up?
His brain clicked on at that point and he sat up with a start, earning himself a startled yelp from Christine.
“What’s wrong?” she cried. “Altair, what is it? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
He turned to look at her, speechless.
There was no sweat on his face. Or his body. The sheets weren’t soaked through from his night terrors. Looking past her, he stared out the window cut into the stone wall. It was morning, there was daylight outside.
And he was just waking up.
“I slept,” he said quietly. “I slept through the entire night.”
Christine smiled at him. “You were out like a light,” she said. “It was pretty cute, if I’m being honest.”
Altair nodded, still trying to process everything. “It’s been so long…I forgot what it feels like,” he said exuberantly. “I have so much energy! So much desire to just do things. Oh man, this is great!”
“Whoa, easy there. It’s Saturday. We don’t have anything to do,” Christine said, snuggling up to him. “So why don’t we just enjoy this for a few minutes?”
“I am enjoying it,” Altair said, feeling giddy. “You’ve helped me so much. You have saved me, in a way, Christine. I owe this all to you, to your faith in me, your desire to help me. Thank you, thank you so much for showing me how to fight my demons, for realizing that there is still more I can give, to my people, to this new world. I feel alive because of you.”
She kissed his shoulder. “You did the hard work. I just showed you that it was an option and got you to listen to me.”
“I love you,” he said, kissing her forehead, wrapping her up in his arms.
“I love you too, Altair. So very much you know. You’re worth everything I did, even if it wasn’t as much as you think.”
“People value different things differently,” he pointed out. “To you it was just normal. To me it’s changed my world. For the better.”
“Well good. I’m glad,” she said, nuzzling in even tighter to the crook in his neck.
“Me too,” he said quietly. “Me too.”
They were silent for several minutes while he just grinned stupidly at nobody in particular. He was happy. Genuinely, truly happy, something he hadn’t been in a long, long time.
“Christine.”
“Altair,” she replied.
“I know you said we didn’t have to do anything today.”
“We don’t,” she said. “Even I’m off.”
“Well…what if I had
something in mind that I wanted to do?” he asked quietly.
She sighed overdramatically. “What is it—Oh. Oh my…I suppose we can do that.”
***
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Thank you for reading Dragon’s Chosen Mate. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review so that others might enjoy the adventure as well.
Next Book: A Mate to Treasure (Dragons of Mount Aterna Book 1 – Early March 2019)
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Other Books by Riley Storm
World: Winterspell Academy
Storm Dragons
Stolen by the Dragon
Trapped by the Dragon
Dragon’s Chosen Mate
World: Plymouth Falls
High House Ursa
Bearing Secrets
Furever Loyal
Mated to the Enemy
Shifting Alliances
Blood Bearon
High House Canis
Savage Love
Blood Mate
Moonlight Bride
Shadow’s Howl
Royal Alpha
High House Draconis
Fire Dragons Bride
Mated to the Water Dragon
Ice Dragon’s Caress
Earth Dragon’s Kiss
Claimed by the Dragon King
About the Author
Riley Storm
Riley is one of those early-morning people you love to hate, because she swears she doesn’t need caffeine, even though the coffee-maker is connected to her smartphone. She lives in a three-story townhouse by the good graces of a tabby-cat who rules the house, the couch, the table, well, basically everywhere. When she’s not groveling for forgiveness for neglecting to pet her kitty enough, Riley is strapped in to her writing chair coming up with crazy worlds where she can make her own decisions of when feeding time is and how much coffee can be drank without her friends—of which she has three—holding yet another intervention that they threaten to post on the internet.
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