“You were denied everything when you abandoned me!” she cried.
“For your own safety,” he said. “I assure you.”
“Safety?” She laughed. “Do you think it was safe that I grew up in foster homes with nine other kids in two bed rooms? With foster parents, who only wanted the money the agency gave? With foster mothers who kicked me out for the simple reason that I was beautiful? You don't know what safety is. I was left to starve, to freeze, and to die. I lived on the streets. I lived in hostels until I found dance. And when the dance world threatened to abandon me, too, it was dragons who saved me.”
“And yet they control you,” he said. “They keep you in a cage, and you do not like cages, do you? No, your mother didn't like cages either.”
She froze.
“Where's my mother?”
Even though she never knew her mother, she had always wondered who she was and what she was like. She wished that the wondering had gone away as a teenager or as an adult, but a girl never stops wanting her mother.
His face softened.
“She has not returned to us yet.”
“From the Other?” Ariel asked.
“Yes. But we have faith that she will. She will find a different world–a united world. One where she and I will not be apart.”
“I want to leave,” Ariel said, and to her surprise, he stepped aside, waving his arms.
“By all means. We will never keep you prisoner nor tie you down. You are free to come and go; there are no conditions on our offer, Ariel. Or our love.”
She turned and ran as fast as she could. The forest was dark, and she wasn't sure which direction she had come from. They weren't following her, however, and her phone's GPS eventually got her back onto the sidewalk. Bending over, she tried to catch her breath.
It would have been better if she knew he was lying. If he had been nasty or hurtful, she could have dismissed this experience and never thought about it again.
But he had been kind and caring, with a smile on his face. That was what made it worse. And he was speaking with grief over her mother, which was something she had never expected.
But then again, she wasn't quite sure what to expect because she hadn't exactly pictured this moment. Any time she had pictured her parents, she had seen them in a normal situation–a Christmas morning, or a birthday party, or a big breakfast.
This was life changing, and she didn't do well with total chaos. Her life had been the same in a lot of ways since she was a child: alone, fending for herself, no one looking out for her needs except her. The fact that this kind man was telling her these things made her brain flip on edge. She didn't really know what to make of it.
She eventually found her way back to the hotel, her lips firmly shut as she got into the elevator. Her mind was spinning too fast to speak, and she was grateful to find the hotel room mostly empty as she walked in.
She thought that perhaps Alexander had gone out with Peter to eat or to clear their heads. If Peter was anything like the others, it wouldn't be out of character for them to get a drink in the bar.
She was ready to sink on the bed, hoping to lose herself in mindless TV. But then she heard a noise of distress from the bathroom and remained on her feet, her legs stopping her mid fall.
“Alexander?” she asked, taking a cautious step towards the bathroom. All her senses were on high alert, especially after this evening. She felt the familiar magic of her husband flood the room, getting sucked into her veins as she pushed open the bathroom door.
Alexander had both hands on the porcelain white sink, his jacket discarded on the ground as he heaved. His taut stomach contracted, and sweat poured down his face as he took a deep breath, waiving his hand.
“Ariel. No!”
“Sweet Jesus, will you never get over your pride?” she said as she went to him, wrapping her hands around his waist. “I've seen you throw up before.”
It alarmed her that he was practically trembling, his eyes fighting for consciousness. She knew better than to ask questions when someone was in this state. She held him close until he was still, his body simply reacting to the rejection. She felt nothing but his own magic in him, but she wondered if he had been cursed just the same. Dragons were strong, even on Earth beside carapaces. They shouldn't be catching stomach bugs and throwing up in hotel sinks.
“Alright?” she said after a moment, and he managed to nod. She guided him back to the bed, handing him a chilled, over-priced bottle of water from the mini bar. “Just sit quietly for a moment.”
He smirked softly, even as he half gagged on the water.
“I'm not a child, Ariel.”
“Really? Because I leave for two seconds and come back to you making messes in the bathroom,” she said, trying to make him smile. “That's better. What's happening?”
“I don't know,” he said. “It came on suddenly. I've never had anything like that before.”
“Lovely,” she said. “Where's Peter?”
“He's safe,” Alexander said. “In his room, and I told him I'd know in an instant if he tried something ridiculous. He's fine for now. I came back here and it struck me like a thunder bolt.”
“Is it possible...?” Her brain whirled. “I mean, you're not quite human if I'm not around, but you have a lot less magic. And if I am around, you're basically locked in human form, save for a bit of magic. Could you have picked up something?”
“A human virus?” he asked. “I don't think so. I...maybe? God,” he closed his eyes, leaning forward. “Ariel?”
He looked so pitiful that she forgot their earlier scrap and what had taken place in the woods. She crawled up on the bed beside him. He was never one for being touched unless he wasn't quite in his right mind. But now, he wanted nothing but her hands on him.
“You're not cursed,” she said. “I feel nothing in you except for your own magic.”
“This would happen just now,” he said, trying to breathe as another wave of nausea hit him. “What did you get up to?”
“Oh,” she paused. She had never lied to him before, and had never kept a secret. Between them, there was no judgment or secrets. They had always known each other inside and out. But it appeared that he had changed that policy by not telling her that half the kingdom was hers. Until she knew exactly what these people who claimed to be her family wanted, she decided silence was the best policy. “I just went for a walk to clear my head.”
“I am sorry, Ariel,” he said. “I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry if you felt like I deceived you.”
“Alexander, it's your kingdom,” she said, softly. “You have no need to tell me anything if you didn't want to.”
“Those weren't our vows,” he said, sinking into the pillows. She had so much to protest in that sentence. Where did their vows come into this, exactly? Neither of them had taken them seriously; they were just a means to an end. Or so she had thought.
He closed his eyes, and she said nothing, laying her head beside him. What had transpired tonight was a conversation for a different time–the morning perhaps. Tonight, she needed him to feel better, because she certainly didn't know how to handle any of this by herself.
Chapter 9
Ariel had her alarm set as a default on her phone, because she was one of those people who could sleep forever if she didn't. Even though she was far out of her teenage years, she felt like she hadn't gotten a good night sleep in years. But usually, when her alarm went off, Alexander was already out of bed and off to start his day. The fact that he was still shirtless beside her startled her.
She only had to take one look at him to see that he wasn't well. His color was poor, and his jaw was clenched, his eyes screwed shut against the light that was coming in.
She rolled over, laying a head on his shoulder.
“Hi,” she said softly.
“I vomited in the shower,” he said as a greeting. “It's clean now, but I apologize.”
“You know nothing of romance, husband,” she said, sitting u
p. “I was thinking last night, it isn't because you went too long without eating, is it? I know we had a rough week.”
“No,” he rolled over, not even looking at her. “If anything, it's the opposite. Peter's appetite was hesitant, and I thought if I pushed through the wall....”
“I see,” she said. “So you gorged.”
“No,” he said. “But I didn't feel in top form after it.”
“Mmm,” she felt pity for him, and she was surprised to realize how worried she was. “It's alright, you know, to be down once in a while.”
“Not when you are king,” he grunted.
“But you're not king,” she pointed out, and they fell into silence.
They had never had a moment like this before, when they were in bed and not asleep or locked in throes of passion. They didn't cuddle; they didn't simply enjoy time touching and being lost in each other’s eyes. She lay half on top of him, feeling the heat coming off his body and feeling him wince in pain a few times. His body had tensed and then untensed, and she knew he was suffering in stubborn silence.
“Can you...?” He eventually rolled over to face her. “Can you go and see Peter? Make sure that he's alright?”
“You think he might be ill, too?”
“No, but there's always a chance he might be hanging himself by the curtain cord,” Alexander said, and she sighed.
“Sure,” she said, pulling herself off him. “Do you want anything in the mean time?”
“Death,” he replied, and she rolled her eyes.
“I think I've heard of this disease before. It's called the flu,” she said. He had heard the term before and was able to give her a look that told her he was not impressed.
She pulled her hair into a pony tail and found fresh clothes in her suitcase, although she noted that she would have to take her clothes down to the front desk to get them laundered.
Peter had a connecting door, but she went through the hallway, knocking on his outer door.
It took a moment or two, but Peter pulled it open. Shirtless with tousled hair, he looked a lot like his brother, the sleep still in his eyes. Apparently, even the dragon king needed a day to sleep in.
“Just checking whether or not you're dead” she said, switching to dragon lore.
He raised an eyebrow, looking down at himself.
“Clearly not,” he replied.
“Okay,” she turned to go, but he grabbed her shoulder.
“Where is my brother?”
“Alexander doesn't feel well,” she said. “So, I'm checking.”
Peter stepped into the hallway just as a maid came out of the room. She gasped at the sight of the tall, well-muscled man, looking like a male model in the morning light.
“Woah,” Ariel said. “Peter, you're in human form. Clothes are required. I know no one walks around the palace like that.”
“Take me to my brother.”
Ariel simply raised an eyebrow at the command. She would have left him standing there, but she didn't want to scandalize the maid any further. So instead, she pushed past him, going through the connecting door.
She noted that Peter's room was spotless, not that he had any things. But he didn't appear to have even slept in the bed or touched the room at all.
She pulled open the bolted door. Alexander sat up with a start, having fallen back asleep.
“Alexander?” Peter barreled through. “Is it Earth? Is it this carapace? What happened?”
“Excuse me,” Ariel leaned against the door, mildly annoyed. “I've been with your brother for fifteen years; I highly doubt I'm just making him sick now.”
“Fifteen years?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “You put up with this for fifteen years?”
“Peter,” Alexander ran a hand over his face. “Can I help you with something? Because if not, I'd prefer you just leave me to wallow in my misery.” He gagged then, leaning over. Ariel made a small noise of sympathy, but Peter lurched forward, grabbing his hand.
For a moment, Ariel saw more than two feuding brothers. She saw the boys as they must have been as children–the older taking care of the younger.
Once, they had been nothing but young children, not worrying about the throne or anything but each other.
“You need jackoroot,” Peter said, and Ariel's face screwed up in confusion. She had never heard that word before, and she had been speaking dragon lore for years. “It'll stop the pain.”
“I doubt...on Earth...,” Alexander said.
Peter scrambled up. “I can find someone. Your carapace can help me.”
“My wife?” Alexander raised an eyebrow. “It's fine, Peter, really.”
“No,” he said, looking his younger brother up and down. “It's always helped before.”
“Before?” Ariel stepped forward. “This has happened to you before?”
Alexander gripped the covers.
“When I was younger. I wasn't the strongest child. It was before my dragon transformation. It's not uncommon for a dragon body to cure childhood illnesses.”
“You weren't a strong child?” she said in shock. “You're the strongest person I know.”
That made a smile flit across his face. He glanced to her, but it was interrupted by another dry heave.
“Jackoroot,” she said, pulling out her phone. “I'm sure we can figure this out. Here,” she went to the TV remote, flipping it on. “Whenever I'm sick, staring mindlessly at the TV always helps.”
She was prepared to find him some stupid house hunting show when the TV powered on. She was not prepared for ‘Breaking News’ to be splashed across the screen.
“What the hell?” she said, as the news clips played.
“Late last night, this video surfaced in the downtown area. When digitally enhanced, it appears to be a strange creature landing in the middle of the park. Some seem to speculate that it's a dragon....”
“PETER!” Ariel didn't even need to squint at it. “That's why your bed is made.”
Alexander buried his face in his hands. “Tell me this is not you,” he said, without looking.
“What is the problem?” Peter asked. “Last night, I was restless, and instead of jumping out the window, I went for a flight.”
“Peter, Earth people do not KNOW about Dragons,” Alexander said. “We agreed to keep it a secret.”
“I thought you would have fixed that,” Peter said, “seeing as you were so progressive about everything else.”
“I–” Alexander scrambled for the bathroom again, and Ariel sighed.
“Alright. Peter, you and I are going to look for this mysterious Jackoroot, while Alexander throws up everything he's eaten in the past three years. Go get some clothes.”
“You do not give me orders,” he snapped at her.
“I'm sorry, I thought 50% of the kingdom was mine?” she said. He had nothing to say to that and stormed back into the other room.
Left alone by the TV stand, she saw that her phone was flashing. She picked it up, wondering whether there was a new tabloid article about her.
Instead, she found a text from an unknown number.
Would you like to see where you spent the first 2 years of your life? Meet me in the park at 4.
Her hand froze over the message, reading it again and again. She didn't know who it was from, but she assumed it was from her father. She had no idea how he got her number, but that was the least of her concerns.
She was concerned about how much she did want to see what he was talking about. What was it like? Where did they live?
She was always told that she was bounced through the foster care system her whole life. But maybe there was more to the story. She knew that she needed to know, even if she didn't want to. There was no ignoring this text message.
Maybe. What do you want from me?
Her hands were shaking as she typed away. Her entire world suddenly existed within the cell phone screen.
Your dragon is wreaking havoc on this planet. Last night was just a taste. Control it.
/>
She bit her lip, shoving her phone into her pocket as Peter came back into the room. What did that even mean? Peter had simply gone for a walk around. Irresponsible as it was, he hadn't exactly burned the city down. He had simply stretched his wings and wandered the park. In addition, she didn't control the dragons, even if she liked to think she did.
But if the carapaces didn't want them walking around, maybe they knew something she didn't? She wasn't going to make any harsh judgments, at least not until she found out more.
“Where do we find Jackoroot?” Peter asked. “I'll send you and–”
“Queen,” Ariel fixed him with a stare. “I'm not your minion.”
“There was a body found in the park near where the alleged Dragon sighting was....”
Both of their heads whipped up to the TV to watch as the story continued to unfold. Ariel couldn't believe her eyes as they changed to a shot of police tape.
“Peter!” she said in horror. “What else did you do besides walking about last night?”
“I...,” he seemed confused as he watched the television. They had screens in the palace, but this was different. His eyes flicked back and forth between the screen and Alexander, who had stumbled out of the bathroom. “I don't remember.”
“Argh,” Ariel put her hands to her face. “You have to remember killing someone.”
“No,” Alexander spoke up. “You know that things are blurry when we are dragons.”
“Blurry, not forgotten,” she cried. “Why would you kill?”
“Ariel, we don't know that he killed–”
“Right, it's just a conveniently located body,” she said. “You just fed, didn't you?”
“No,” Peter said. “We did not go out last night.”
“What?” she said, and Alexander looked like a guilty child. “You told me you fed.”
“I couldn't.”
“Because you felt sick?” she asked, but he shook his head.
“No. Because I couldn't.”
“Alexander!” she knew what issues were plaguing him. Finding animals, ripping their throats out, the hunt, the chase, it wasn't easy on him. But his lack of appetite was dangerous, because it could lead to blood lust. In Alexander's case, it usually just led to a weakening of his body. In other dragons, it could lead to a feeding frenzy. Alexander had trained himself to be in control of his appetite at all times. But Peter was not used to such conditions. “I can't deal with you two.”
A Wolf's Embrace (Wolf Mountain Peak Book 4) Page 80