One sea monster peeked helplessly over the edge of the basin, just as its tail yanked it in the other direction.
It would probably be hysterical if Willow weren’t so horrified that she had given the sea monsters the farts.
And yet, that sea monster was the red one, which was the one that Bethany said had stung her like a jellyfish, so Willow felt a little less sorry for it.
“Oh, Dragon Gods,” Arawn said. “What is that smell?”
Willow winced. “I think I upset their tummies a bit.”
“Are they going to keep doing that?”
“I have no idea. It could last five minutes. It could be permanent. That’s the problem with magic. It’s not logical.”
“Let’s try turning on the fountain. Maybe that will blow the smell away.”
It didn’t.
If anything, the water jets shooting into the air liberated more of the sulfurous gas and the horrid stench, so the whole area smelled like it had been bombed with rotten eggs.
He asked, “Can you make a new potion? A new stomach remedy?”
She gestured toward the flatulent sea serpents. “I’m afraid to try! Look at what happened here!”
Roiling clouds of fermenting-cabbage stink rolled out of the fountain.
Arawn turned to her. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. We’ll figure it out somewhere else, somewhere we can breathe.”
Royal Advice
DUKE Arawn Tiamat clasped his hands between his knees as he sat before the Dragon King in the king’s office. Just as he had a hundred times before, he felt like a naughty schoolboy caught with beer.
That had never happened.
He’d never been caught.
“What does your dragon feel about this?” the king asked.
Arawn lifted one hand, dismissing the asinine argument. “What do dragons feel, anyway? It wants to eat. It wants to fly. Occasionally, it wants to fight another dragon or burn something down.”
The king leaned forward, folding his hands on his desk. “Granted, I’m not a dragon shifter, but it seems like most dragons have a wider range of emotions than that. What you are describing are mere appetites or urges.”
“That’s all mine has. That’s all it ever wants.”
The king watched him so closely that Arawn felt uncomfortable. “That seems unusual.”
“They don’t have language. You can’t hold a philosophical conversation with them about the futility of existence or our death alone in the darkness of our own souls.”
The king leaned back in his chair, holding his fingers over his stomach. “You’re a bundle of laughs today, Duke Tiamat.”
Arawn covered his face with his hands for a moment, drew a deep breath, and then let his hands fall. “Sorry. I tried a love potion with Willow Sage. It didn’t work.”
“Willow Sage? I thought you two broke up months ago when it became apparent that she was not your fated mate.”
“I saw her while I was working at the Dragon’s Den Casino. I just happened to run across her. The minute I saw her, it was just like I was back and living with her again. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I can’t stand this anymore.”
“Look at me.”
Arawn lifted his face so that the king could examine him for any signs of mating fever and again find him lacking.
King Llewellyn did indeed stare at Arawn’s eyes but then settled back in his seat again. “Stringing her along is wrong when you will either be irresistibly compelled to leave her or fall into senescence.”
“I can’t imagine loving anyone more than this. There must be something wrong with me if this isn’t what love feels like.”
“Maybe it’s the stars or magic, but sometimes, the mating is beyond our control. Sometimes, it isn’t love. Sometimes, the magic or our dragons control us.”
“You don’t have a dragon.”
“No, I don’t. I am a mage, the same as Willow.”
“Did you ever love anyone else?”
King Llewellyn frowned. “Not like Bronwyn.”
“Could you have walked away from her?”
“That wasn’t our fate. I was her fated mate, and she started showing signs of mating fever within a few days of when we met.”
“So, you fell in love with her, and you mated with her. You didn’t try to walk away.”
“Of the three of you boys, you were always the sensible one, Arawn. You are the pragmatic one. You can’t allow mere sentiment or a crush to get in the way of what’s best for everyone involved.”
“And what is best for everyone involved, Your Majesty? Why is it anyone else’s business whether I take a dragonmate who is my fated mate or whether I roll the dice and see if I can stay with Willow?”
“You aren’t just any random dragon shifter off the street, Arawn. You are the Duke of Tiamat, the last heir of that noble family. If you don’t have a dragonling, the dukedom goes extinct.”
Arawn shrugged. “So what? I can leave the fortune to charity. I can distribute it to other families or businesses who need a capital infusion. I could fund hundreds of scholarships or dozens of research projects when I die. No one cares about the noble families anymore, especially me.”
“But it’s not just you nor just your family. The Dragon Scepter nearly chose you as the next Dragon King. It still might.”
“Again, so what? Even if it did, I wouldn’t need an heir if I were the monarch. Evidently, a king can decide to stop being the king one day and go off to Florida to scuba dive and golf, if that’s what he wants.”
The king didn’t fall for Arawn’s childish attempt to start an argument, dammit. “You need to find your fated mate and take your place as a mature dragon. Your magic and your lineage depend on it.”
“Dragon magic is dying out. It fades with each generation. That’s why my father’s magic couldn’t protect my mother, right? That’s why she had the stroke? Because something was wrong with him or his dragon.”
“Not necessarily,” the king said. “Sometimes, these things just happen.”
“They don’t happen to dragons,” Arawn said.
The king shook his head. “All three of you boys had some unusual and terrible tragedies happen, but it’s not impossible for dragons or dragonmates to die. We’re long-lived and robust, but we’re not immortal.”
“But these tragedies always happen to Tiamats, don’t they? No dragon in my family has lived more than a century for generations. No duke has lived more than a few decades after taking the title. Even if my fated mate did show up, I couldn’t promise her the long, healthy life that every other dragon can.”
The king said, “Arawn, your mother had a stroke. Your grandfather died in one of the naturals’ wars. He couldn’t have survived those wounds even in his dragon form. No one could have. Your great grandfather died in a dragon fight. That’s what happens when we battle for territory, and it’s why we don’t anymore. Nothing unusual has happened in your family that hasn’t happened in everyone else’s.”
“But all those things happened in my family, not just one or two. All of them.”
“Are you saying you’re cursed?”
“I’m saying maybe it’s better the Tiamats die out and the dukedom goes extinct. Maybe there shouldn’t be any more Tiamat dragons.”
“Arawn, you don’t mean that.”
“I do mean it. This dragon has brought me nothing but problems. I can’t marry the woman I love because the dragon finds something unsuitable about her.”
“It isn’t the dragon’s decision. It is fate. It is always fate. It’s a magic we don’t understand. What does Tiamat think about her, anyway?”
“Its name is not Tiamat. That’s my name.”
“Your dragon must have a name.”
“It doesn’t. It’s just a malevolent presence in my life. I call it the Dark Other.”
The king sighed, “Oh, Arawn. You can’t call him that.”
“It’s just a beast. It’s just a dark and evil energy that inhabits my soul.
It’s not sentient.”
“I may not be a dragon shifter, but I have lived with one and among many for most of my life. Arawn, I think you have separated too much from your dragon nature.”
“I don’t have a dragon nature. I am a man. I may be a supernatural man, but I am fully and only human. That dragon parasitizes my body and my energy, but I am not a dragon. Dragon magic is waning and useless, and it can’t even keep the ones we love alive.”
The king sighed deeply again. “Arawn, this goes against your very nature.”
“Loving someone other than Willow Sage is against my very nature. I want her and only her.”
The king shook his head sadly. “You won’t, once you find your fated mate.”
“I hate that this dragon somehow decides my destiny and tells me who I can or cannot love. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a casino to get ready to open in two weeks.” Arawn pushed a black folder across the desk and closer to the king. “Here’s the interim report. I’ll have it open on schedule. Are you sure you can’t do anything about those damned sea serpent apparitions in the fountain?”
“I consulted with my coven about dispelling the apparitions, but legendary-class apparitions can’t be dispelled. They can’t even be moved. I suggested that we put them in water-filled trucks or planes and move them to the ocean or someplace more convenient, perhaps a large aquarium here at the Royal Palace, like a fish tank. The High Priest with whom I spoke said that there was a seventy-five percent chance that the apparitions would just dematerialize from their new abode and rematerialize back in that fountain if they consider that their touchstone.”
Arawn stood. “Dammit, so there is no getting rid of those beasts.”
“Neither the apparitions in the fountain nor the dragon soul in your body. You are stuck with both, so you might as well make peace with them.”
The Fated Mate
WILLOW was studying an ancient spellbook that she’d begged her mother to FedHex overnight to her so she wouldn’t have to go to Desert Star to pick it up. Her mother hadn’t asked why Willow didn’t want to come home. No one ever asked why.
The old grimoire lay open on the dining room table in the penthouse, and Willow was taking notes by candlelight from the blaze of four huge candelabra burning with white and black candles.
Arawn walked in. “Why are the curtains closed, and why is it so hot in here?”
Willow gestured to the candles but didn’t look up from where she was reading the spellbook and taking notes on a white legal pad. “Some of the potions or steps in the potions are only visible in candlelight from the right color of candle, just in case this book ever falls into the wrong hands.”
He walked over and touched the book. “That paper is really old.”
“All the best ones are.”
“What are you reading?”
She ducked her head, still ashamed. “I’m researching sea serpent and apparition stomach remedies.”
He flinched. “They aren’t feeling any better?”
She shook her head. “I’ve been down there every hour, on the hour, but the poor things are still being dragged around by their farting butts, and it smells like someone egged the casino with last year’s Easter eggs.”
“Yeah, I could smell it while I was circling to land.”
“I feel awful about it.”
“It was an accident. We’ll figure out how to fix it, and I’m pretty sure the green one is enjoying it.”
“Oh, he couldn’t be.”
“It looks like he’s riding a jet ski around the basin, and his tongue is hanging out.”
“Still, their poor tummies.”
He sat down across from her at the table. “Is there a love potion in that book?”
She set down her pen and looked up. In the candlelight, Arawn’s jaw was a sharp, right angle, and his eyes were so dark blue that they looked black. She missed him already. “Arawn, I don’t think we should try that again. It’s forbidden magic because it’s too dangerous.”
“I talked to the Dragon King of the New Wales Dragon Clan about it.”
“And he told you not to, right?”
“He told me to leave and look for my dragonmate because there’s a chance I’ll be the next King of New Wales.”
The sumptuous penthouse wavered in her vision, and a hot drip striped down her cheek and splashed on the grimoire’s page. The paper absorbed her tear, and a wisp of smoke lifted off the page.
“But I won’t,” he said.
“Your king told you to.”
“I don’t care. I won’t do it.”
“I should leave.” Willow placed her hands on the spellbook as if she might close it. “I can end this by standing up and walking out. It would be best for you if I did. If I leave you, you will be found by your dragonmate or you won’t, but either way, you won’t go into senescence. If I stay, you might try to resist it, and then you’ll get sick. It’s better for you if I leave.”
“Don’t.” Arawn reached over and took her hand, his huge hand soft on hers. “Please don’t.”
She should shake off his hand, pick up her great-grandmother’s spellbook, and walk out.
If she were smart, if she had an ounce of kindness for him instead of the selfishness of wanting every possible minute with him for herself, she would walk out of that penthouse door and not look back.
Her fingers tightened on his.
He said, “Make a love potion for me.”
“It’s unethical. It’s immoral. It goes against doing no harm and free will,” she recited.
“I don’t have free will. I have a dragon, and there’s something wrong with him. I want to be with you. I want to freely choose you as my mate. If I take the love potion, then I have free will. If not, I’m at the mercy of magic and this beast inside me. If I could expel him, I would. But I can’t. So please, make me the potion, and I will drink it of my own free will.”
“But the woman out there, your fated mate. What will happen to her?”
“Nothing. She’s my fated mate, but naturals and other supernaturals don’t have fated mates. It’s only one direction. The partner can refuse to surrender to the mating bond, and nothing happens to them. They walk away unscathed. It’s only the dragon that takes the risk of the fated mate, the mating fever, the mating bond, and senescence.”
Willow held onto his hand. “That doesn’t seem fair.”
“Can you scry for my fated mate?”
“You had a real psychic do that for you already. It didn’t work.”
“But she was a dragon. You’re a witch.”
“I fail to see—”
“Because maybe my fated mate didn’t make it. Maybe she didn’t survive to adulthood. Maybe there’s a reason I’ve never met her.”
“Right.” Willow contemplated it, and she couldn’t make her fingers let go of Arawn’s hand. “I can try.”
He brought her a black bowl of water while she set aside the grimoire. The candlelight sparkled off the water’s surface, and she fell into the depths and swam while she held his hand, trying to find a connection that led from him through the astral plane to another person.
Finally, she found the thinnest, most tenuous spidersilk of gold she’d ever seen leading away from Arawn’s form.
Willow’s connection to her mother was a thick cord, and the one to her father stuttered out and dove into the beyond.
Between Willow and her stepfather lay a blackness and vacuum. She didn’t like to look at it.
The connection between Willow and Arawn was a diaphanous ribbon, frayed on the edges, waving and whipping as if in a high wind.
Willow ran her fingers down the strand. It wasn’t going to hold for long unless something changed.
However, their bond was anchored deeply to Arawn’s twin-souled spirit, primarily to the human side that flashed gold when he turned. His dragon side was smoky and nearly evaporated when she dragged her hand through it.
But she wasn’t there to diagnose Arawn’s rela
tionship with his dragon. She was there to find his fated mate.
Willow followed the blowing, golden fiber as it wound through the astral plane. Astral distance doesn’t correlate to corporeal distance. It’s more relative to emotional distance, and time is merely a perception.
It felt like she walked for days through gray and darkness, following that astral spidersilk.
At the end was the shadow of a woman, and Willow walked through her shade to step into the woman’s real world.
A simply beautiful woman—a woman who was half-fae, Willow noted, and had the unearthly beauty and attraction of the fae folk—was holding a chubby baby and was curled under the arm of a fae man. He wasn’t a half-fae. He was pureblooded, as fae as the Old Ones in the Otherworld, and he looked directly at Willow.
A human or a witch wouldn’t have been able to see her.
But fae had unknown, unnamed powers.
The man’s emerald eyes flamed. “Witch.”
Willow fled, gasping as she lifted her head away from the scrying bowl.
Arawn was staring at her. “What was it?”
“She’s alive,” Willow said, “but she’s married to a fae. They have a child.”
He sighed. “Then it’s settled. Do whatever you can to make a love potion. Make every love potion you can find. I have always wanted you, practically from the moment I saw you in my class. My heart has always belonged to you. And I don’t want to rip apart a family, especially if they already have a child.”
Willow nodded. “All right. While I’m researching gassy sea serpents, I’ll also look at the love potions. There is one in here, but it’s complicated. We would need to gather most of the ingredients.” Willow sighed. “And I’ll definitely need a few things from home.”
“Let me know what you need,” Arawn said.
“I just hope I don’t mix up the recipes,” she muttered, but Arawn just laughed and hugged her.
Blood and Bone
OBTAINING the ingredients for the new love potion from Willow’s ancient grimoire took over a week.
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