“They’re deteriorating so quickly.” Greta closed her eyes and sighed.
“At this rate, they’re not going to make it past evening.”
A comforting warmth brushed Constance’s shoulders.
“It’s not your fault,” Rayse said, his voice warming her like smoke.
“If I’d studied longer… I shouldn’t have been so stupid. Of course it’s black magic! Magic so easily overpowering dragons. What else could it be?” She fought the urge to run a palm down her face. Her head started to spin. The nausea she’d been feeling the past few weeks coursed through her again. She realized that stress tended to induce the vomiting. I’m not pregnant, she told herself. I can’t be.
It had crossed her mind to ask Greta about her symptoms, but she was always distracted by something else. Now would seem like the opportune time… but should she really be asking for her own diagnosis as they stood in front of three dying men?
She shifted aside and said, “I’ll see if I can find anything before it’s too late. I’ll have to browse through my reading material again. I’ll be back as soon as I—”
She retched. Pushing Rayse away, she stumbled to a grassy patch of ground and hurled. The morning’s breakfast spilled forth. It made hair rise on their hands. A crawling sensation started from her arms and tingled up to her neck.
Rayse was quick to come to her, and so was Greta.
“You’re feeling unwell, pumpkin?” Greta said. “You should have said so.”
“You’ve been working yourself out too much, haven’t you?” Rayse asked. He hunched over her protectively, concern written on face. “Is it the magic?”
“It’s nothing,” Constance said. “Don’t be so quick to blame the dark art. I’ve been having random nauseated episodes. It comes and goes.” The smell of the vomit made her want to retch again. She gritted her teeth and tried to keep the rest of her stomach’s contents down.
Greta passed her a rag. Constance snatched it from the old dragon and wiped her mouth with it.
“You’re pregnant,” Greta said.
“What?” Constance’s heart leapt. “I had that suspicion, but Greta, you know… about that…”
Rayse spun his head around abruptly. His look of anxiety quickly turned into confusion, then a hint of a smile brushed his lips. “How can you be so sure?” he asked. The surprise faded and he furrowed his brow.
Greta shrugged. “I’m not sure yet, pumpkin. It could be food poisoning. Food poisoning is incredibly rare in dragon wives, however. Your improved immune system protects you even if you eat something ridiculously bad. So, through process of elimination, you’re pregnant. You did say that this has been going on for weeks now, didn’t you?”
“Pregnant?” Constance said, placing a hand over her abdomen. Her chest fluttered. A mixture of worry and joy spread from it. Greta knew about the fake bond, so if she suggested it, then maybe it was possible. It was daunting, knowing that a new chapter of her life was about to unfold. Was she ready for a child? Back in Evernbrook, girls younger than her had already become mothers, so she supposed the challenge wouldn’t be too great if they could manage it.
“What gender is it?” Rayse asked eagerly. “It’s most likely a boy, but what if it’s a girl?”
Greta exhaled. “Not sure if that’s important.”
“Of course it is! Come on, cast that spell.”
“You can tell the gender?” Constance asked.
“It’s common procedure,” her mate replied.
“Let’s take a proper look,” Greta said. The old lady went to the back of the infirmary and grabbed some herbs from a basket. She then drew the souls using the words es rea misreagou, kisla misreagou. The leaves of the herbs immediately went dull and crumpled in Greta’s grasp. “Vulico egritas.” Constance didn’t recognize the spell. Maternity spells hadn’t exactly been on her checklist while she studied. The soul magic turned into a cyan color and enveloped her stomach. Greta tilted her head and drew her face into a tight expression. “Yes, yes, I can sense something there,” the purple dragon muttered as she nodded.
“So?” Rayse asked, eyes twinkling.
“She’s definitely pregnant. And the both of you are lucky… supposedly. You have a girl.”
A grin split Rayse’s face. His excitement was obvious now. He hardly smiled so widely when they weren’t alone. He had to project himself as the levelheaded leader of the clan. “A girl? Greta, that’s the firstborn girl of Dragon Keep.”
The only reason why Constance was taken to Dragon Keep in the first place was because dragon females were too few. Most male dragons had to mate with a human woman because of that.
Greta smothered a hand over her lips. “If she gets to term, she’ll be sought after, for sure. I pity all the males who must try and get past you, the Black Menace.”
Rayse looked displeased. “Males? Wanting my daughter? That’s… It’s not something I want to worry about. Not for the next hundred years, at least. And what do you mean, ‘if she gets to term’?”
“I’m simply having reservations.”
“We’ll have to name her,” Rayse said.
Constance tried to think of one. She wasn’t the type to think of weddings and future baby names. Only the nomenclature of herbs came to mind. Would it be boring to name her daughter after a flower? Flower names were so common. “I don’t have anything in mind.”
“We’ll have two years to come up with her name. I’m sure we’ll find something good.”
Her eyes widened. “Two years?” she said, shocked. “Isn’t it usually nine months?”
“That’s how long the gestation period for humans is. You’re expecting a dragon. A mighty beast can’t form so quickly.”
“Twenty-four months of feeling nauseated and having all those childbearing symptoms.” She felt giddy from that thought. Or was it her pregnancy that was making her that way?
Greta waved off her concerns with a flick of her wrist. “Eighteen months, actually. Rayse just rounded it up a year. That’s four fewer months to be worried about.”
Constance grimaced. “That’s still an awfully long time.”
“How about Bellatrix?” Rayse suggested.
She scrunched up her nose in disgust. “You’re trying to ruin her life before she’s out of the womb.”
Greta pursed her lips. “Pumpkin, can I have a word with you?”
“We’re all ears,” Rayse said.
“Not you. Just your wife. Female stuff. Important that you don’t hear.”
Rayse frowned, but obliged.
The old dragon woman tugged Constance’s hand and dragged her aside, until they were a field’s width away from Rayse, so he couldn’t hear.
“You haven’t told him about the temporary bond, have you?”
“No.” Constance bit her lower lip and felt her heart rate pick up.
“This child isn’t going to make it.”
“What?”
“It’s not going to come to term. It can’t, not without a proper bond.”
Her stomach tightened, and she felt like throwing up again. “We can complete it soon, right? Then the baby will be fine?”
“It’s not going to last that long.”
“Why would it form in the first place?”
Greta pinched her thumb and forefinger over the frame of her spectacles. “It happens. When the soul’s tricked, it tends to react the way it would naturally, but it won’t have the resources to carry out what the body needs. You’ll lose the baby within a few months.”
“That’s too early. We can’t form a true bond so soon.”
“Exactly.”
She thought she might just faint. She turned her head, watching Rayse as he paced around with the exuberance of a child. He grinned widely and waved at her.
“I can’t tell him,” she said. “He’ll hate me. He’ll break.”
“You should share things like that with your mate, pumpkin.”
“I can’t.” She shook her head. She’d just wait until the mi
scarriage happened and brush it off as an accident.
She held back the tears building inside of her. She couldn’t let Rayse see how she was getting torn up.
“This is going to bite you really bad,” Greta said.
Constance clenched her fist so hard that nails dug into her flesh. “I hope not.”
“You ought to pray to the Dragon Mother really hard, then.” Greta sauntered back to the clinic.
Constance caught another glance of Rayse as she followed her mentor back, and her stomach somersaulted.
Chapter 5
Constance hadn’t thought Rayse could get any more protective. He was ready to carry her home from the clinic.
“I can climb up by myself,” she had said. “Expectant mothers should get exercise.”
After having to be very adamant, she got her way.
She hadn’t cared about the exercise, however. She simply thought Rayse carrying her would be too embarrassing.
He followed behind her as they meandered back. She could sense his watchful eye on her. “I don’t understand why you’re being so celebratory,” she said. “The child might not come to term.”
He growled dissatisfaction at that suggestion. “It’ll come. Miscarriages aren’t common amongst us.”
“But they happen,” she said.
“I’m hearing none of that. Don’t jinx her before she even stands a chance.” He placed a hand on her belly. “Maybe you shouldn’t be here in Dragon Keep. We could hide you. It’s not just you we have to worry about anymore. There’s another we’ll have to care for.”
“You’re not going to send me away. Enough of that. I told you, I’m not going to run from my problems.”
“You won’t be. You’ll be protecting your child.”
She took his hands in hers. “I can do that just fine over here. With you.”
He nodded, but his face fell. “I don’t think I can convince you otherwise.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “I can’t do any investigations back at Evernbrook. You need me to solve this. It’s black magic. Your dragons aren’t good with the art. And there’s nothing for me back home.” She grabbed the handle of their door and turned.
She stepped into the living room and saw a ghostly shadow on the couch.
Constance hung her lantern on the wall beside her. “Marzia? It’s dark. Why didn’t you light up the fireplace?”
No response.
“Rayse, will you, please?”
Her mate strode up to their fireplace, his boots tapping on the ground and across the fur rug. He sucked in a deep breath, then blew, letting out a column of fire. His black flames took hold of the wood in the hearth and slowly transformed into a fiery red. She had always found the shift of colors gorgeous. The temperature of the room rose.
Marzia sighed. “Fraser used to do that for me. Congratulations, by the way.”
“Why?” Constance asked.
Marzia gestured to her abdomen.
“Oh, yes. It’s not… not that big of a deal.” Constance clicked the door behind her closed and knocked the snow off her footwear. “How did you know?”
Marzia shrugged. “Honestly, you both weren’t being discreet at all. I overheard you.” She bowed her head and continued looking at the ground.
Constance paced up to her friend. “Marzia, I went to talk to the men who were with Fraser.”
That seemed to pique the redhead’s interest. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know.” Constance pursed her lips and decided that the passing of those men should be kept from Marzia. It’d worry her friend sick. They had lost their lives soon after she and Rayse had found out about their baby. They had shrunk away into lifeless corpses so abruptly that Constance didn’t know how to react.
Marzia’s jaw slackened. “Oh. Then please, let me know if you hear anything.” Her eyes were puffy from crying. Constance wondered whether Marzia had rested while they were gone, or if her friend had spent the entire time crying her eyes out.
“There’s one thing,” Constance said. “I think Fraser’s disappearance might have something to do with Eduard’s death.”
“Strange,” Marzia said, continuing to stare down with her grayed-out eyes.
Constance hated this useless feeling. “Eduard died the same way. He was cut up by the same black smoke.”
“Black… magic? Cut up?” Marzia’s lower lip quivered, but no tears came from her eyes.
Guilt instantly flushed through Constance. She shouldn’t have given Marzia those details. She didn’t need to remind her friend of the danger Fraser was in. “I mean, it’s a lead. At least we have a clue to finding him.”
“You’ve spent months looking for Eduard’s killer. How is it going to be different this time?” Marzia buried her face in her hands. “I can’t take this.”
“I’m sorry. I promise you, I’m going to give everything I have to figure this out.”
Marzia clutched tightly at the fabric of her dress. She was breathing in a controlled manner, as if allowing herself to relax would result in a breakdown. Constance had expected tears to fall from Marzia’s cheeks, but her face was dry. The downtrodden woman stood. “I need to get some fresh air.” She strode past Constance.
Constance leaned forward. “I’ll come with—”
Rayse grabbed her arm. “I’m not letting you go out so late at night.”
“You can’t stop me.”
“You’re pregnant, and there’s strange happenings in our clan. You can’t risk your child.”
She scowled. “I can’t leave Marzia alone outside, either. You can come with us. Our child isn’t even—”
“Even what?”
“Anywhere close to being born yet. Marzia is here. And she needs support. Now.” She looked at her friend for affirmation, but Marzia simply walked off.
“So you want to blindly follow her to her death?”
“I’m not. You’ll be with me.”
He swallowed. “And if it’s magic? You know I’m no good at that. I can’t protect you if a user as powerful as that comes for you.” He tipped her chin up. “I’m lost, little fire. This is the first time I’m facing an opponent we can’t see.”
“It won’t matter if we’re home or not in that case.”
Rayse looked toward Nanili, who had been standing next to a kitchen counter the entire time. “Nanili, follow Marzia, and make sure she comes home safe.”
“Yes, sir,” the creature replied.
Marzia had already left, and Nanili went after her.
“Are you sure that she’s going to be safe with a mishram?” Constance asked, darting her gaze to the door.
“Nanili is perfectly capable of carrying out those orders.”
She bit her tongue, feeling unsure about letting Marzia meander in the night. Her pulse quickened, and her mind ticked over her options.
“I’m going. Don’t stop me,” she said.
“I won’t allow this.” He stood in front of her, a large obstacle blocking her way. Her face crashed into his chest, and she let out a disgruntled moan.
“Rayse, if anything happens to that girl, I won’t be able to live with myself.”
He slammed a hand against the door next to her. The sound of his anger chorused through the living room. They met eye to eye. She stood resolute in front of him, not backing down. Then, with a huge sigh, he stepped aside. “Just this once. We’ll go together.”
She relaxed and grabbed the lantern. She was prepared to jog after her friend, then realized she couldn’t. It was complete darkness outside. Darker than usual.
“Can you see her?” she asked Rayse, who stood behind.
“I can barely see anything.”
“How is that? You can see in the dark. You’re not lying to me, are you?”
“You know that I would never lie. Not when it comes to you.” His sincerity made her insides turn. “But why is it pitch-black outside?”
“The moon decided to sleep?” she asked.
“This is
strange,” he said. He stepped out into the blackness and vanished from her sight.
“Rayse, are you there?” she called.
“I’m here.” He trod back toward her. She hooked her fingers around his and made sure she kept him close so he wouldn’t get lost. She could still hear the whirring winds of the mountains, and feel the cool air, but she couldn’t see her hand when she placed it in front of her eyes.
Marzia couldn’t have traveled far, but without knowing the direction she went, Constance didn’t know how to start following her. “That girl is going to get herself killed,” she muttered. “Marzia! I have to go find her, Rayse.”
“And what? Get killed yourself?” Rayse said. He locked his arm around her and placed his hand over her stomach. “Not when it’s this dangerous.”
“It’s magic at play.”
“Another reason for you to not go out.”
“Lumicio,” she said. She waited for light to spark from her hand from the spell. It came, but once she reached out her door and into the blackness, it was smothered out. She tried again and was met with the same results. “My magic isn’t working. We have to get her back, Rayse.”
“Let’s wait.”
“She isn’t safe. We have to get her. There must be another spell to counter this.” She racked her brain but came up with nothing.
“I’m not going out there, and I’m not letting you do something so stupid.”
“You can’t stop me.”
“I very well can.”
She felt for her souls in her beads. “Glacilia provoto.” Icy coolness sparked in her hand.
From the dim light of the fireplace, she could see him narrowing his eyes at her, his expression full of challenge. “You would dare?”
She met his gaze with furious indignation. Could she hurt him? She swallowed the big lump in her throat, then cast the spell aside. No, she wouldn’t be able to. It would be like cutting into her own skin.
“It’s late,” Rayse said. “Close the door and let’s wait inside.” He hastily wrapped his fingers around hers and dragged her into their home. She limply followed along like a rag doll.
Why was it so dark? What kind of spell was this? Something, or someone, didn’t want her following Marzia.
Shadowed Lies Page 6