The Dragon Mate's Awakening (Dragongrove Book 3)

by Imogen Sera

  I couldn’t find work to support us when she needed such constant care. I considered selling myself. When I received an offer of marriage from a wealthy man I accepted it with relief and gratitude. He had room for my mother in his house, and I would be allowed to nurse her as long as I was available to warm his bed each night. It was whoring of a different kind, though I didn’t see it that way at the time. I thought that the difficulties of my life were over.

  I was wrong. My husband is not a kind man, but if I were to make my choices over again I don’t know what I would have done differently. I can hardly regret them now, anyway, since the path I’ve followed has led me to meeting you.

  I’m grateful to have met you and desolate to not be yours. I’m sorry to be putting you through this.

  I miss you.

  His response was quick and emphatic.

  Don’t be sorry, Maggie. I get to write to you and to know you, and that’s more than I’d ever hoped for. I get to know that you exist in this world, and nothing could made me happier.

  I believe we’ll be leaving this cottage soon, and although I’m eager to return to Arnes I’m afraid of what we will find there. Please continue to know that I’m always here- just a word from you and I’ll be there.

  It took all of her willpower to not send the word right then. He was eager to return home, though, and it wouldn’t have been fair to call him away from his brothers and his mission just to heal the ache in her heart. Besides, what would she do with her mother if were traveling with them? Instead, she wrote about him.

  Caelian,

  I’ve met many people in my life, and out of all of them, you’re the kindest. Your letters are all I look forward to. I read them repeatedly, until I’ve memorized them, and then just run my fingers over them, knowing that you’ve touched the paper.

  Please be safe. I hope to see you again one day.

  The next letter came over the weekend, and she wasn’t able to get it for several days.

  Maggie,

  I was thinking of you today. I think of you every day, but this morning when the ground was glittering with frost and the golden sun crested over the horizon, only you filled my mind. For a moment I thought: everything will be alright. And then I thought of your face and your husband and I thought: nothing will ever be alright again.

  I miss you.

  Tomorrow we will arrive in Arnes.

  That was the last she heard from him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The journey to Arnes had been suspiciously uneventful. There had been a small scuffle, easily dealt with, shortly after crossing the border, but no other trouble at all. They had been met by an escort, led by Reis, an old friend of their father’s. Reis had been a kind of surrogate father for Caelian, whose actual father had had no need of more sons. He sat back in his chair and sighed to himself.

  Missing Maggie had become as natural as breathing to him. He inhaled, he thought of her smile; he exhaled, he thought of her husband. There was an ache, deep in his chest, that had settled there immediately after leaving her bedroom. He had hoped that over time it would lessen, but the further he got from her in time, the more it felt like a deep pit inside of him.

  Caelian had never been a pessimist, and although he couldn’t find a bright side to his situation, he resigned himself to carrying on. Her letters were a small sunny spot in his days, making him feel like himself when he read them over. He had written to her as often as he could. Anything that came to mind during his days, any small detail that might make her smile, he tucked away in his memory to tell her of later. He carried at least one of them with him, always, and had brought all of them along with him to Arnes, tucked carefully into A BOOK.

  He had expected to jump right back into his role as an ambassador of sorts between the royal family and the noble houses. He made friends easily and rarely gave offense, and those qualities had worked in his favor when he had lived here before. In truth he’d spent little time at the royal palace once he was no longer a child; most of his days had been spent traveling around the kingdom, becoming a friendly face that people could feel safe sharing their grievances with. He had missed it, when he and his brothers had been banished, nearly a decade before. He had never found his role very valuable, knowing that it was given to him as a comfortable position for a prince with four ahead of him in line for the throne. He’d felt no shame at that, though. He’d loved the position. Meeting new people was a pleasure to him, becoming friends with them was a treat.

  It seemed that no such position would be available to him, though, at least for now. The kingdom was in turmoil, even if they’d had a less eventful journey there than they’d expected. Helias was suspicious, Tarquin was brooding, and Ingrid had succumbed to the magical sickness that mortals often did when crossing the border. Caelian felt alone, and never more so than when he spread Maggie’s last letter to him across the desk and read it for the hundredth time. She hoped to see him again one day.

  He was in the parlor of the Queen’s rooms, having agreed to stay in case Ingrid awoke. Helias was busy, as he’d expected of the first night back as the new King. Caelian wasn’t sure what he was doing, just that he had been in endless meetings since depositing Ingrid into bed, shortly after their arrival.

  Caelian swallowed his loneliness and spread a fresh sheet of parchment in front of him.

  Dear Maggie,

  We’ve arrived safely at the palace. The journey here was easier than expected, but we still don’t know the full details of the situation. I hope that we will discover that soon.

  I expected to be pleased to be home. I’ve been all over the world since I left here, and I haven’t felt as if I’ve had a home since then. I’m disappointed, though. This feels no more like home to me than anywhere in the world that I might have stopped for just a night. I hope that will change.

  Being here reminds me of all that my kind have lost. I write to you from the Queen’s rooms. The last time I was in here, it was my mother’s. Her harp sits in the corner, untouched since she last played it. It’s just the same as it was the last time I saw it, but it feels hollow and empty.

  I don’t want to trouble you with my complaints, but I feel as if you understand home not feeling like home. I don’t know that I’ve ever really felt alone before, but right now it’s all that I feel.

  I hope you’re well. I miss you, as always.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Maggie’s days had become as painful as they were when she’d been ill. She was trapped in a different kind of hell, not one where she was forced to relive past mistakes, but one where she was forced to relive her current mistake, over and over, never letting up and never giving her relief. Her insides twisted uncomfortably as she thought of Caelian. She missed him desperately, had missed him since she met him and knew that he could never be hers. More than missing him, though, she feared for him. She had heard nothing from him in nearly a month, since his final short letter about leaving for Arnes. He had described the place and it terrified her. Thoughts of him ill or injured or dead plagued her thoughts.

  She’d dreamt of him the night before, after Bradley was finished with her and she’d fallen into fitful sleep. He had been holding her, like he did when he kissed her, just the once, and before her eyes he’d turned into ash and blown away. She’d woken up in a cold sweat and couldn’t get the image from her head all day.

  The helplessness of her situation was the hardest part. Maggie would endure anything to keep those she loved safe, as her current position proved. But she could do nothing here.

  She’d spent much of her time at Juliette’s house, trying hard to distract herself with anything other than the awful thoughts that plagued her, but over the last week she’d gone less and less. It was hard to bear the sympathetic looks she got from all four of the sisters, and it was impossible to join in on their lively, laughter filled conversations. She’d begun to feel like they were purposely censoring themselves to avoid hurting her, and if there was anything Maggie hated, it was
feeling like a burden. It was easier to stay home and hate herself.

  She’d sent letter after letter to him at the cottage he’d been staying at, with no reply. She’d sent letters to each place he’d told her about, along the way, and she’d of course heard nothing back. She’d sent letters addressed to him at his friend’s address that he’d given her, and one short pleading letter to his friend. She’d even sent a letter into the void, simply addressing it to Prince Caelian in Arnes, hoping somehow it could reach him and he’d write his reassurances to her. Each day without reply was agony.

  She spent much of her days in her mother’s room, busying herself with a book, or just talking quietly to her mother’s catatonic form, hoping she’d not be overheard by servants. She made up fairy tales out loud, complete with princesses and dragons and knights, but her mother never reacted. She hadn’t had a single lucid moment since before Maggie had become ill.

  Her mother was lost to her. She had been reluctant to admit it to herself, but she did now, sitting at her vanity and watching out her window at the rain splattering the street below. She glanced at herself in the mirror. Deep, dark circles had formed around her eyes, never leaving no matter how well she slept. Her skin was pale and stretched tight across her cheekbones, and all of the freckles she’d acquired on her long walk home had faded back to nothing. She watched herself as she untied her hair and combed her fingers through her tight braid, short frizzy hairs around her face standing up to form a yellow halo there. The dark day outside cast odd, dark shadows across her face, that matched the ring of bruises around her neck.

  Bradley knew that something distracted her, and he was an impatient man when she didn’t acknowledge him as she should. She’d been trying to be more careful when he was around, and it had been early in their marriage when she learned what would set him off, but since Caelian had stopped writing it was hard to care, even for her own sake.

  She had made an interesting discovery several weeks before, when she was horribly miserable and decided to poke around his study for no reason. She had found their marriage certificate tucked away among his books, and when she’d examined it she’d realized that the name of the priest who’d officiated the ceremony was impossible. Father Martin Abraham, it read, and she knew that it was wrong. Father Martin had been close with her mother and had died before her father did. She had mourned him for a long time, but he’d been dead for several years before her wedding. She remembered the man who’d officiated the wedding: short, balding, wearing ill fitting robes. He wasn’t Father Martin. There it was, though, signed neatly.

  Something Kincaid had said, back in the forest, had been bothering her ever since. Why would the church care about her town when representatives of the church were performing marriages? Perhaps he truth was that they weren’t. Her marriage had never been valid, she felt sure of it. It was a sham, and perhaps that was true of every underage woman in town.

  Bradley had never been hers. He was tall and handsome, and she’d thought herself the luckiest girl in the world when he’d offered marriage to her. She’d learned quickly how her salvation was actually her own personal hell.

  Her husband wasn’t hers. Her mother was lost to her. She was lost to herself, she saw as she looked in the mirror again and wondered who stared back.

  Juliette had been her comfort and support for a long time, and she hoped they would remain lifelong friends, but she didn’t need Maggie like Maggie needed her. She had her sisters, and however similar Juliette’s nights were to Maggie’s, during the day she was happy and loved. Maggie needed that. Maggie deserved that.

  She made a decision then.

  She thought of Caelian’s face, again, and the familiar bittersweet ache came back to her. She needed him, and if he was alive at all, she thought that he might need her. She could deny happiness to herself all she wanted, but she could no longer deny happiness to him. If he was well, she would be there for him. If he was not then she would mourn him forever, but live her own life while she did. She was no longer her mother’s guardian. She was no longer Bradley’s; she had never been his in the first place. She wasn’t even Caelian’s, really, although she would like to be if he would have her.

  She was her own. She was just Maggie.

  .....

  “I’m done,” she said, her eyes bright and her hair wild. “I won’t do this. I’m leaving.”

  Juliette looked up from her seat by the window. “Leaving?”

  Maggie nodded. “Leaving. Tonight.”

  “What about your mother?” Juliette asked quietly.

  “I don’t care,” Maggie said, pacing. She paused. “No, I do care. Of course I care. But I can’t do this. Once I’m settled I’ll retrieve my mother, and hope that in the mean time nothing horrible happens to her.”

  Juliette watched her silently as Maggie collapsed in a heap on the couch.

  “My father is just like my mother’s father,” Maggie began. “I care about my mother, that’s why I married Bradley. He offered us security and she was unwell. I know she cared about her mother, which is why she stayed here and married my father. But I can’t do that anymore. I can’t bring a child into this world knowing that they’ll grow up feeling a need to protect their own mother. That’s not how it should happen, and I won’t let it happen.”

  “A child?” Juliette asked in horror, her eyes wide.

  Maggie shook her head wildly. “There’s no child, but thinking of a child gave me clarity. It’s not fair to have to look after the last generation to the detriment of the next. I’m not pregnant now, but I hope one day I will be, and if that happens it won’t be Bradley’s child and I won’t be Bradley’s wife.”

  Juliette stood and embraced her.

  Maggie pulled away and held her by the arms. “Come with me? We can both leave.”

  Juliette shook her head. “You know I can’t. My sisters depend on Edward’s income.”

  “When I come to fetch my mother I’ll fetch you too,” Maggie promised, “and your sisters.”

  Juliette smiled at that. “If you want to fetch every mistreated woman in this town I think the men will be suspicious when it’s half deserted.”

  Maggie laughed at that, a loud, barking laugh, her hair wild around her face.

  “You’re going to Caelian?” asked Juliette seriously.

  Maggie nodded.

  “I thought you hadn’t heard from him.”

  “I haven’t,” Maggie said, shaking her head. “I’m going to find him and make sure he’s well. If he is, then I’ll force him to explain himself.”

  “Do you know where he is?” Juliette asked.

  Maggie shook her head again. “But I do know where his friend lives,” she said, holding up the scrap of paper she’d been clutching. “I’m going to find him.”

  “You knew him for three days, Maggie, are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “And I’ve known Bradley for nine years. That hasn’t helped me at all.”

  “I’m just worried about you,” Juliette said, watching her friend closely.

  “I know,” Maggie said. “If I can’t find him I’ll find a job and save up for a house, and then every woman in town can come live with me and there will be no men allowed inside. It will be paradise.”

  Juliette laughed then. “I’ll try to look in on your mother if I can,” she said, “and of course I have absolutely no idea that you’ve even left town. Be safe, Maggie. I’m very happy for you, and more than a little jealous.”

  Maggie hugged her tightly.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Caelian awoke in a terror. He knew nothing: not where he was, not why he was there, he hardly knew who he was. He awoke with the knowledge of only one fact. His mate was missing from him.

  He could feel it in his soul, the tiny part that had been carved out for her. Her face filled his mind; the wild halo of curls surrounding it, the freckles across her cheeks and nose, the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed. He didn’t know where she was, didn’t know where he
was, but none of that mattered until he had her beside him again.

  His heart thundered in his bare chest. He rose from his bed on unsteady legs, ignoring them as he threw open the door and looked out into a familiar corridor.

  “Maggie!” he bellowed down the empty hallway. “Maggie!”

  He staggered out the door and down the hall, yelling all the way.

  He saw a few men, some he faintly recognized, but many of them seemed to be in a similar state. There were many confused looks and half naked men. A redheaded woman who he vaguely recognized walked right up to him, ordered him to be quiet, and ushered him back into the room he’d come from.

  “Sit down,” she ordered, and the tone in her voice made him comply. “You’re fine, Caelian. Maggie’s fine. What do you remember?”