by Elle Wolcott
“Seriously?” My brother was always a protector to me and Charlotte, but this was a little much.
“I’ve already been alone with her,” Cole arched his brow. “You didn’t even know.”
“How could you do that to her?” Dylan stepped up at my side. “You know what’s at stake.”
“Does she?” Cole raised is voice.
After a minute of silence, as we all looked to each other, I asked them both what was going on. My brother, caution in his breath, sighed in regret. And Cole seemed like he wanted to run away.
“Please, Irene. Put your ring on,” my brother quietly demanded. There was something building in the air just then. A warmth, a tension, something irrefutably dangerous. And in that moment, I felt a strange need to calm my brother. My senses became clear, my mind strong, and I had no hesitation on my purpose. I placed my hands on his chest, even though he urged me to go inside, and I began to breathe long draws of air, closing my eyes and thinking of the cool wind on my neck. I kept my mind clear and open, and in a matter of seconds, I felt the heat of his skin begin to cool. When I looked into his eyes, the anger had started to fade.
“What was that?” I asked, feeling excited and afraid at the same time.
“It's who you are,” Cole said. His voice was nearly a whisper from what felt like so far away.
“What does the ring you made have to do with any of this?” I asked Dylan.
“I told you, they protect us.”
“But from what? From your anger?” My gaze shifted back and forth across their faces while neither of them looked back at me. Dylan was afraid to tell me, for some reason. I had to think the worst. “From my magic? Is it me? Is it a binding ring?”
“Irene,” Cole caught my attention. With a voice like rustling leaves, like the distant echo of the wind, he gave himself up. “The ring protects you from me.”
“I don’t understand?”
“You weren’t meant to find out this way,” Dylan said, but I wasn’t focused on him right then. I was trying to understand the connection between Cole and Tristan. My brother wanted me to wear the ring because of his anger toward Tristan—because of his different magic, I was sure. If the ring protected me from Cole in the same way, that meant the two were similar.
“Is this what happened to you?” I asked Cole. “In Europe?”
“I can’t talk about that right now,” he answered.
“Are you like him?”
Cole shrugged.
“What are you?”
Again, he shrugged. He wasn’t going to say anything else, so I got the idea to make him. I went right inside and pulled my ring from my bag, and then returned to him and my brother wearing it. And Cole had started to brace himself against the car. It was subtle, but he was getting ready for something terrible, something painful.
It was a strange sight to behold. Cole, a lean, strong, and tall man always walked around with a certain sense of pride. A lot of the time, he was cocky, actually. Of course, his humble eyes had a way with making my heart melt. He never backed away from danger or adventure. He never feared anything, at least not that I saw. Here, in my presence, however, he drew inward and clenched his jaw tight. I thought for sure he’d run away now, but he stood still and let me come near.
“Why are you afraid of this?”
My brother called to me, but I had one thing in mind. Leaves picked up at my feet as I got closer to Cole. “Why?” When he didn't answer, I reached out to him, but he pulled back. He shook his head to me, refusing with fear in his eyes. Those beautiful chocolate eyes that had always been so inviting were now begging me to go away. Begging for escape.
“You know what you are,” Cole said. “If you have to do this, go ahead. But I won’t involve you in what I am.”
“It’s too late for that,” the words slid from my mouth with a certain weight and grit. The clouds over us were suddenly dark and rolling with purpose. My hair lifted off my back and slid over the hood and collar of my jacket. On the street, on the other side of the bookstore, I could hear people talking and cars driving by. So many people and their ordinary lives, so much chaos for so little gain. If only they knew about the magic. If they could understand how spectacular our world is without all the manmade items that only distract us. Manmade. That’s what the ring was. Made from iron in a shop full of other manmade items.
I reached out my hand and took a step toward Cole, and he lifted his shoulders with patience. There he was. That man I had started to crush on, that arrogant grace of his showing off like always.
“You don’t want this,” I presumed.
Cole shook his head.
“Irene, I think you’ve proven your point,” Dylan said behind me.
I turned and asked him, “Then what is he? Why does this matter?” I lifted my hand and let the ring shimmer in the light from between the clouds.
“They’re after you. We can’t let them close, it’s too dangerous. If the prince finds you, our realms will never be the same,” Dylan rambled.
Okay, it was great to finally have some answers, but his explanation only confused me more.
“What prince?”
“Irene, come on,” Dylan neared me. “Let’s just close early and go home.”
I shook my head. “I’m not done.”
I faced Cole and waited to see if he’d answer for himself. When he stood there in silence, I knew I would get nowhere waiting for him to make the first move.
With trembles dancing down his skin, he let me take his hand in mine. He took the pain for several seconds before crying out through stammered breaths. His eyes brightened in shades of honey, intensifying and dimming like Caleb’s had the other night. In my awe, I froze, and he fell to his knees as our hands separated.
Cole sat on the pavement and wheezed for air for a few seconds. His hand had started to bruise where I had held, and his eyes were clearly duller than moments before. I felt terrible, but I needed to understand what everything had meant. I think he knew this.
After several seconds—time I spent questioning everything I knew—Cole stumbled to his feet and leaned his back against his car. He gazed to me with an apologetic, frightened glare in his eyes. I could still see the pain as it waved over his body, creeping along his chest and down his spine in a mess of gasps and grimaces, relentlessly keeping him rigid. I waited, motionless, as he got into his car and drove away.
“Let me explain,” my brother offered, but I went right past him. I couldn’t even look at him. All this magic was building around me, and he knew. It made me so angry. “I’m just trying to protect you until—”
“Until what?” I faced him. Those rolling clouds were now covering the entire sky. There was a light wind that seemed to blow each time I took a deep breath. “Really, Dylan. You could have at least told me what you were.”
“It was mom’s last wish.”
His words stilled me. Our mother died in an accident in her hometown of Aurmont. I was sixteen, Dylan was twenty-one. We weren’t with her, and so he shouldn’t have known her last wish.
“What do you mean?”
“She didn’t even know I was a dragon, Irene,” he shrugged. “It came on after she died.”
“But she had to have had an idea. I mean, dad was one.”
“Think about it. I’ve only had my magic for the past couple of years.”
“Hey,” Charlotte peeked out through the door. “Two women just left the store complaining no one was there to ring them up.”
“Just go switch off the signs,” Dylan said. “I’ll close up.”
“Why? Something happen?”
“Yeah, something sure did,” I glared at her. My witchy sister had a magical boyfriend that was falling into the same category as Cole and Tristan. Things were starting to make sense. “Do you know what I am?”
Charlotte laughed like she was embarrassed.
“I’m not joking.”
“Alright, I’ll get the signs,” Dylan went inside.
C
harlotte came out to the alley, crossing her arms arrogantly.
“Why don’t we talk anymore? Is it because of Caleb?”
“Don’t be angry with him,” she practically pleaded. “He’s still new at it. Sometimes things get too emotional and he loses control.”
“What does that mean?”
“Irene, can’t you just pick up one of those books in there and actually read it for once? Instead of trying to over analyze everything, just experience it.”
“Easy for you to say. You get a firsthand account of magic and I’m over here inflicting pain with a metal ring. How can I learn like this?”
“Did he really make you a ring to protect against them?” she sighed.
“I don’t know, Charlotte. I don’t know what they are!”
“For god’s sake, Irene. Open your eyes. It’s magic, it’s myth. You’re supposed to be a princess. Don’t you get it? You’re living in a fairy tale. And guess what? There’s real faeries.”
Chapter Ten
Faeries.
Tristan and Caleb were faeries. Cole was a faerie.
Only recently had I learned about dragons, and now I had to understand a new magical creature with a different set of abilities. I knew I could find the knowledge I needed at the bookstore, but a lot of those tales were construed over the ages. Storytellers made them more interesting, more beautiful, and more romantic. I needed facts and reality, at least as much as I could get. The information I wanted was sitting on the shelves in my living room at home.
I had just made it through the journal Aunt Cressa loaned me, and the dragon culture was finally sinking in. There are three types of dragons, warriors, healers, and seers. The warriors are the only ones who transition into winged beasts of the sky, a quote from the journal. Healers, of course, heal. And seers are able to see things that others cannot. They have incredible dreams, they get visions when they encounter people and objects, and they understand things they aren’t familiar with.
I was certain of being a seer.
Dragons can wield any of the elements, with the more ancient bloodlines able to manipulate multiple. My father was a water dragon, and so is Dylan. With the fog coming to me, I was also a water dragon. Did this mean my father could breathe fire? Or would he spray his enemies with a powerful blast of water? Maybe he wasn’t even a warrior, and therefor wouldn’t change into a beast at all. And Dylan… I just wasn’t sure yet.
Our father disappeared when we were young, but I felt like there was more to his story. Especially since our mother continued to speak highly of him. Most women wouldn’t be so kind to a man who just up and left. I was too young to remember him the way Dylan did. I can still hear his voice, though, telling us stories about his homeland. His voice so distinct and true, those Norwegian words dashing about in his tales. Knowing him was all I ever wanted growing up. Now that I was faced with something greater than anything I’d ever known, I had little time to dwell on my memories of him.
Reading over the journal of my great-grandmother a second time, as well as the spell books, original myths, and journals of my other ancestors, I was continuously faced with the reality of what I was becoming.
The story of the Lady is simple, but it goes back to the beginning of the dragons. When all our races were one, before greed and power created a divide, there was a ruler who led the living creatures in harmony. After corruption seeped into the bloodlines, and the beings began to want and desire, nature had to correct the balance by separating those in conflict. In each race, a ruler was marked, and a new era began.
For the dragons, a woman took the first mark. She was a queen, but because the dragons do not adhere to royalty, they called her Lady. And as she found love and united with her mate, his skin seared with a mark that resembled her own, and they named him her Lord.
The faerie culture was barely mentioned in the journals of my dragon ancestors, and not at all in the journal of Lady Lenora Jean. The enchanted history from my mother’s family’s spell books, though, was so detailed I could barely follow along. The faeries, from what I read, have a king or queen and a royal family, and the ancient mark follows that bloodline. The enchanters, though, are a little mysterious when it comes to leaders and such. Probably because a lot of the enchanted work alone.
So, as a lady, I should have had a marking at my birth. It would have labeled me as the next leader, and it would have remained a faded symbol until my magic awakened. Once nature deemed me ready, my mark would reveal itself and forever be visible. The process, according to the books, didn’t seem to be too pleasant, and there was no telling when it would happen. Or if it truly would. I couldn’t find a mark on my skin to save my life. How could I be so important if it just went away?
Anyway, my search through the books wasn’t only about my own magic, it was also for Cole’s.
Faeries were illusive, cunning, and dangerous. The spell to protect me, to conceal me, that my mother had performed, must have been because of the faeries. That meant that Dylan was right about the prince, whoever he was. And that faeries were considered our enemies.
Faeries had several talents that would make anyone cautious. First, according to my ancestors, faeries could entrance anyone no matter how magical they are. They would use the entrancement as a way to get the other person to do as they pleased. Or to see things that weren’t real. Just like the cliffside that Tristan showed me. Sometimes, the entrancement kept the person from knowing what had happened during the missed time. Which was an incredibly scary thought.
Second, the way they survived was by feeding on the breath of life, the living essence that all creatures had. In the mortal realm, faeries could easily feed on humans. The books didn’t specify feeding on other magical creatures, though. This feeding was the main reason, from what I’d read, that the dragons opposed faeries so intensely. A faerie’s very nature made them killers, hunters, and the world’s most charming predator.
Well, nothing says vampires aren’t real, so…
In the evening, I made some dinner, and then I showered. Dylan had texted me, but I ignored him. Charlotte was probably spending time with Caleb again. She didn’t like to come home much anymore, and I was finally seeing why. She might be a beautiful enchantress, but I got the mark of the Lady. I’m a dragon, and she isn’t. Not that she would want to have a crown and a prince, my sister, though, was understandably angry about it all.
By the time I was finished finding enough info to make me sick of the idea of magic, it was nearly midnight. But as much as I was mentally exhausted, I just couldn’t imagine going to sleep. So, I went and threw on some old jeans and a baggy sweater, and I headed out.
Chapter Eleven
I got in my car as the wind came and whipped over my shoulders and made me shiver. Even in the late night, I could still see the faint bluish glow of the horizon past the city. There was a crispness to the air, a clean and wholesome smell that washed over the hills and lingered just enough to calm my nerves.
And why was I nervous to go see Cole at nearly one in the morning? For reasons I had yet to admit—especially to myself. I had a crush on him for years, but after my mom died, he really stepped up. He went out of his way to keep me company and help me move past all the grief. I really started to like him then, in a new way that was pretty much borderline love. Before he left for Europe, I had told him how I felt, and he asked me to go to the Spring Festival with him. It was to be our first date, and for days it was all I could think about.
But he changed while in Europe. No matter how much I liked him before, he now had a different life. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever fit in it, and it was pushing us apart. I know he didn’t mean for that to happen, but it did.
I couldn’t help but be anxious as I drove toward his house. My toes tapping in my flats, my fingers moving around aimlessly over the wheel. He was the enemy. He could hurt me; he could do things to me I’d never see coming. And there I was, driving right to him.
In the cupholder sat my ring, which I was
considering putting on. Whatever it was, it made a faerie cringe in pain. It was the only thing that could ward them off; the only thing that could protect me from their charms. When I parked in the Clarks’ driveway, I looked over the ring once more and decided to leave it there.
I stepped out and shut the door, then approached the dark entry of the house. I studied the front window carefully, but there were no lights, no sounds. I went to the garage, got up on my tiptoes, and peeked inside. Only Cole’s car was there. With a long exhale and a brief close of my eyes, I turned to face the front door again, and there he was. Directly upon me, eyes burning dark, Cole peered over me with no room for me to move.
I gasped, put my hand on my chest, and whispered, “You scared me.”
“I should scare you,” he spoke as my back pressed to the siding. He stood there, silently examining my eyes, my mouth… everything. All I could do was wait for his move. Glaring to the sidewalk, Cole stepped back and, honestly, I felt a little disappointed. Then I thought of my ring and the threat it posed.
“I’m not wearing it,” I said like I was out of breath.
“Why not?” he looked mad as he took my hand in his and seen that I was right. “You’re not safe here.”
“But I am safe with you,” I argued. “I know you’re not going to hurt me.”
Cole, lingering over me with a hesitation in his eyes, breathed out and then froze. Then, before I could say the next thing I had rehearsed carefully in my mind, he pressed me tight against the wall, breathing over me like he’d been tormented by my presence. With caution, he touched my face and then lowered his brow near mine. I, gazing up to his hidden eyes, watched his irises brighten like gold in the sun. And in the mystery of the night, I felt more comfortable, more relaxed than I had ever been before. My heart settled, and my hands rested; my mind homed in on the sight before me. Then, as a brief wind pulled my hair from my neck, he leaned into me completely, kissing me with a force heavier than the uncertainty of all I knew, and the whole world fell away.