The Dragon’s Flight: Gay Paranormal Romance

by Clearwater, Julian

  Cyrus couldn’t believe his ears. At the same time, he still felt the sharp pang of disappointment. “I appreciate that, Chief, and I can’t tell you how much it means to me. But I can’t stick around.”

  Not with a broken heart, he thought. If Mark was here, and Mark hated him, then the only thing for Cyrus to do was leave.

  “Think it over, okay, son?” Chief said. “Don’t make any decisions now, on a broken heart. Emotions are high right now, for everybody.”

  Cyrus nodded. The chief had that right. Zane stood up and offered Cyrus his hand. Taking it, Cyrus allowed Zane to pull him up so he was standing again.

  Even though his heart was broken, Cyrus could take some small comfort in the fact that he was among friends.

  Mark

  “Oh my god, I made a mistake,” Mark said.

  “Damn right you did,” Jenny said from beside him.

  Mark gripped his hair in both hands. Nothing was as it had seemed. His boyfriend—ex-boyfriend?—was a dragon. And Mark had just yelled at him about it.

  “I don’t know what I was thinking. I love him, too,” Mark said. “He’s my everything, Jenny.”

  “There’s more to it than that,” she whispered. Her eyes filled with tears. “I haven’t been completely honest with you, either.”

  Mark sat down at the swivel chair behind the hospital counter. “What are you talking about?”

  “Shit.” Jenny wrung her hands together. “That test result I gave you?”

  “Yeah?” Mark said slowly. Where was she going with this?

  “Shit, shit, shit,” Jenny said.

  “Jenny, it’s okay,” he said. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay. I learned my lesson.” He gestured at the hallway, at the place he’d last seen Cyrus. “I’m not going to lash out at the people I love.”

  “The thing is, I don’t even know how it’s possible,” she said. “I mean, you’d know, wouldn’t you? You’d have to know. And you wouldn’t keep something like this from me.”

  “Tell me, please,” Mark begged. “Just spit it out and we’ll figure it out together.”

  She pulled a folded piece of paper from the breast pocket on her scrubs. “Here.”

  With shaking hands, Mark took the paper. He opened it up and saw the hospital’s letterhead at the top. Dragon DNA Test Results, it read below that.

  There was Mark’s name, Mark A. Rollens, followed by his medical record number. And next to that, the word positive.

  “Jenny?” he said.

  “I don’t know, Mark. I saw it and panicked. So I made a fake one for you. I just…I didn’t know what to think or do, and I knew you couldn’t know. I knew you’d be devastated.”

  “Devastated?” Of course he was devastated. Now he was one of them—one of the enemy. Mark was a dragon, and he hadn’t known. “Are you sure this is real?”

  “I had them run the test multiple times. It’s real.”

  She reached out to him, to pull him into a hug, but Mark lurched back. He was dangerous. “Don’t touch me,” he said. “I don’t know what I’ll do to you. I don’t know what…I don’t know anything.”

  “Wait,” Jenny said.

  Abruptly, he stood and backed away farther. “I have to go, I—I—I have to think about all of this. I just need to think.”

  Already tears were streaming down his face, and he pushed past several surprised nurses and patients as he ran from the hospital.

  “Mark, you’re not dangerous!” Jenny shouted after him.

  The snow that had been coming down earlier had stopped, and the sun had come out. The glistening white parking lot was completely at odds with his mood.

  A dragon. He was a fucking dragon. He got into his old Toyota pick-up and started the engine. The windshield wipers easily sloughed off the melting snow, and he pulled out of his spot, wondering where he could even go.

  The person he most wanted to talk to, Cyrus, would probably laugh in his face. Mark had been a complete jerk, and he didn’t deserve Cyrus’s comfort, anyway, if Cyrus were even to offer it.

  He just wanted to drive. He wanted to drive so far that he forgot his name and forgot where he was from and forgot that, somehow, he was a dragon.

  It couldn’t be real, could it? But the test didn’t lie. But maybe it was a false positive; he saw them all the time in patients. Perhaps having sex with a dragon—having sex with a dragon—had done something weird to his blood.

  He had no answers, so it was best to just keep driving.

  The roads were slick with melting snow, and Mark decided that was best, because now he had to focus. Still, he was going to drive until he figured out what to do. Was there anything to do? Could there be any answer?

  He didn’t want to leave Prospect and the life he’d started there. But would he be forced out? Would the residents of the town push him out because he wasn’t human? It wasn’t his fault, and he hadn’t hurt a single person, ever.

  Neither has Cyrus, a voice whispered in his mind. His guilty conscience. Cyrus hadn’t hurt anyone, and he’d said as much at the hospital earlier.

  “I made a huge mistake,” Mark muttered to himself. He wanted to reach for his phone, call Cyrus, and tell him, but it would be best to talk to Cyrus in person.

  Besides, if Cyrus didn’t answer his phone, Mark thought it might kill him a little bit.

  His phone trilled on the seat next to him, though, and he glanced down. Jenny was calling, probably worried about him. It was tempting to answer and reassure her, but the roads were bad, and Mark had seen enough car accident victims come into the ER. No way was he putting himself in that position.

  He focused back on the road, thinking of Cyrus at the same time. He’d apologize to Cyrus, and leave out the part about having learned that he, Mark, was a dragon as well. Or no, that was deceitful, too, wasn’t it?

  The road curved, and Mark was hit with the glare of the sunlight sparking off of the wet asphalt. He tried not to slam down on the breaks, to just press gently, but the truck skidded anyway. Mark couldn’t see a thing—the sunlight had blinded him, and he steered into the skid as best he could, but it was too late.

  Suddenly he felt the truck’s tires leave the road. He was airborne for a few seconds, and then, teeth knocking, he slammed into the steering wheel at the same time the truck slammed into the steep side of the mountain.

  Everything went dark.

  Cyrus

  Cyrus was spooning stew into his mouth when a rough bump from behind him caused him to spill.

  “Heard you were a dragon, asshole,” a deep voice said.

  “Then you must be an idiot, Pelant,” Zane growled from Cyrus’s side. “Because only a total idiot would start a fight with a dragon. You wanna be burnt to a crisp?”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Cyrus mumbled. Of course Pelant was being an idiot. He was notorious in the station for stirring shit up.

  “Sure you wouldn’t,” Pelant said. “A big pansy-ass dragon.”

  “That’s it,” Zane said, standing.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Cyrus said.

  Chief walked into the room, clearing his throat. “Is someone starting trouble in here?”

  “No sir,” Pelant said, rubbing a hand over his brown buzz cut. “No trouble at all.”

  “My bullshit-o-meter must be acting up again, then,” Chief said. “Pelant, you can finish your stew alone in your bunk. And if you even think about making one of our own feel unwelcome, you can find a new job.”

  Cursing, Pelant stalked out of the kitchen, bowl in his hand.

  “Sorry about that—” Chief started, but then the bell started ringing.

  Chief reached for his radio and was already talking to the dispatcher as everyone left their bowls where they were and rushed from the kitchen. Cyrus doubled back to make sure the burner was off on the stove. Always good to be safe.

  Back in his bunk, he put on his gear quickly, methodically. This was a routine call, but something felt urgent. Rushing would cause mistakes, though
, so he forced himself to check and re-check every movement, every piece of gear.

  Down in the garage, everyone was moving forward. “On the truck!” Chief called. “Car accident on Prospect Highway, going east out of the town.”

  Cyrus climbed up next to Chief, while Zane drove. Pelant was stuck in the back with the others, to Cyrus’s relief. Right now, Cyrus didn’t have time for dominance games.

  “What other details do you have, Chief?” Zane asked.

  “Single vehicle. A truck swerved off the road and into the side of the mountain. Got covered in a small avalanche of snow. Another set of motorists called it in—they can’t dig out the truck on their own.”

  Sucking in a breath, Cyrus felt his body go cold. Mark drove a truck. But no, Mark was working at the hospital today. He was safe. Cyrus had to believe that.

  Cyrus couldn’t believe that, because every fiber of his being was telling him that Mark was trapped in that truck.

  “Hurry, please,” he said to Zane. “Hurry.”

  “I can’t go any faster, not unless you want us to be stuck in the side of the mountain,” Zane said.

  Chief’s radio squawked. The dispatcher’s voice came through. “There’s an avalanche coming down now,” she said. “I’ve ordered the bystanders away from the scene, but the snow is going to bury the truck.”

  “No,” Cyrus groaned, holding his head.

  How long would Mark have? He’d already been partially buried. Was he running out of air? Was he scared?

  Cyrus couldn’t stand it. “Dammit, Zane, hurry!”

  “I’m going as fast as possible,” Zane said. “Next time, you should drive.”

  “Forget this,” Cyrus said, yanking off his boots.

  “What the hell are you doing, son?” Chief asked.

  “I’m going to save that person.”

  “Barefoot?”

  “Bare of everything.”

  Chief’s mouth fell open as Cyrus removed the rest of his gear and clothing.

  “Pull over,” Cyrus said. “I have to get out.”

  “Are you—are you going to—”

  “I’m going to save that person the best way I know how,” Cyrus said. “Are you going to pull over and let me out, or what?”

  Zane slowed the truck, and Cyrus clambered out. The ground was cold on his feet, but he barely felt it because already he was changing, shifting into his dragon form. He saw the looks of astonishment on Chief’s and Zane’s faces, and smelled the acrid scent of piss as Pelant, in the back, lost control of his bladder.

  Maybe Pelant would leave him alone, now.

  None of that mattered, though. Cyrus had to save Mark. With a huge beat of his wings, Cyrus was in the air, traveling along the highway. Not far, now, he thought to Mark in his head. I’ll be there soon.

  Mark

  Mark woke to a pounding headache. The cab of his truck was bathed in a bluish white, and he couldn’t see out the windshield or the passenger’s side window. There was a tiny bit of visibility beyond his own window, but all he could see out of it was the snow-covered ground.

  There were sounds of people shouting. He couldn’t make out their words. He tried to answer them, but his throat was too dry. He was freezing in here—how long had he been unconscious?

  He tried to move each of his legs. Other than feeling stiff, they were mobile. Same with his right arm. His left arm, however, gave him a sharp pain when he tried to rotate the wrist. He’d probably broken or sprained it in the accident. Now he felt like an idiot for driving around in sketchy conditions, but at the time, he’d only wanted to escape the knowledge that he was a dragon.

  He flicked the keys in the ignition. The engine wouldn’t start, but the battery was fine, since all the lights came on. He could at least get heat, until the battery ran out.

  It was time to get out of the car. He didn’t know why those people were just shouting at him—why didn’t they come help get his door open for him? It was awkward using his right hand to open the door, but he levered open the catch and pushed.

  Nothing happened.

  Don’t panic, he thought. Just keep trying. He wasn’t completely buried if he could see slivers of the ground outside his window, so there was no reason to freak out. Yet.

  He shoved again with his left shoulder, but it jarred his wrist and he bit back a cry of pain. Okay, so that wasn’t going to work, especially because the door didn’t even budge.

  The shouting outside got even louder.

  Mark couldn’t be that buried. He turned on the ignition and swiped the windshield wipers back and forth. At first nothing happened because the snow on the windshield must have been too thick, but then they moved some of the snow aside.

  Mark gasped. His truck was hood-first in the side of a mountain, and when he looked up, he saw a wall of snow coming down on top of him.

  He put his arms over his head and ducked, not knowing what would happen on impact.

  Cyrus

  Cyrus heard the avalanche before he saw it. There was Mark’s tiny gray pick-up, dwarfed at the foot of the mountainside, and all that snow, sliding down toward him. A small group of humans stood some distance away, shouting and waving their hands. Cyrus couldn’t tell if they were asking for help, or trying to warn him away because he was a dragon.

  The avalanche continued its descent, as if in slow motion.

  Cyrus roared, as if he could prevent the avalanche by will alone.

  But Mother Nature answered to nobody, dragon or human alike. It was why the Floods had been so devastating—once they had begun, the dragons were powerless to stop them.

  Putting on another burst of speed, Cyrus reached the truck right after the avalanche. “No,” he growled.

  He wasn’t going to let this continue. Mark was in there. Cyrus breathed out hot air, he breathed his fire, giving all his energy and power forward to saving the man he loved.

  Slowly, the mound of snow, taller than a man, taller than his dragon, began to melt.

  The bystanders on the road, who’d come forward again once the avalanche fell, began to cheer as huge chunks of snow melted away.

  The fire truck pulled up, and not far behind it was an ambulance.

  Cyrus slowed his fire, cooled it so as not to hurt the little pick-up, or Mark inside it. As soon as the snow was cleared, he darted forward and looked inside.

  Mark was there, a tired smile on his face, as he awkwardly opened the driver’s side door.

  “My hero,” he breathed, tumbling out.

  Cyrus shrank down to his human form. Naked, he held Mark in his arms.

  Zane rushed to Cyrus’s side. “I’ll help him get to the ambulance. You get dressed, because the news crews are on their way.”

  Cyrus pulled on his pants and the white t-shirt he wore underneath his gear, then his suspenders. He nearly had his coat on when a news van pulled up, and the woman in the passenger’s seat was already filming. He’d gotten dressed just in time.

  “I have a headline already,” the anchor said, jumping out of the van. “Local dragon hero, saves lives.”

  Cyrus grinned for the camera, but his attention was already on Mark. Chief came up and put his hand on Cyrus’s shoulder. “I’ll handle it, son,” he said. “You know you’re completely outted as a dragon though, right?”

  “It’s fine now,” Cyrus said, nodding. “I hope that I can stick around and make a life work here.”

  “When I’m done with this story,” the news anchor said, “everybody will be begging you to stay with us in Prospect.”

  He didn’t care so much about everybody. There was just one somebody he wanted to ask him to stay.

  Mark

  The emergency blanket wrapped around Mark’s shoulders wasn’t half as warm as he wanted it to be. While the EMTs messed with his arm and wrist, Mark waited for Cyrus.

  He came over in his sexy firefighter’s outfit, and Mark felt his heart skip several beats.

  “Thank you for saving me,” Mark said.

  �
�I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Cyrus answered, touching Mark’s chin.

  Mark leaned into the contact. “I have something to tell you. Something I just found out.”

  Cyrus squatted down in front of Mark. His gray eyes were open and expressive. “Tell me anything. Whenever you’re ready.”

  “I learned—” Mark stopped, took a deep breath. He twined his hand with Cyrus’s, hoping Cyrus wouldn’t pull away.

  Cyrus drew even closer.

  Reassured, Mark continued, “I learned something about myself today. And I had already felt bad for how I treated you at the hospital, but this news made me feel like the biggest hypocrite in the world.”

  “Look, I shouldn’t have lied to you—”

  “No, I’m not done. Jenny—no, this isn’t Jenny’s fault. But my test results came back negative for dragon DNA, or so I thought. But there’d been a mistake.”

  Cyrus sat back, his gray eyes searching.

  Mark squeezed Cyrus’s hand and continued, “I don’t know how it’s possible. It doesn’t make any sense at all. But apparently I have dragon DNA. Somehow I’m related to the dragons, the very beings responsible for Eli’s death. And I realized…I had no control over my ancestry. I didn’t participate in the Dragon Floods, just like you didn’t. And my blood, I can’t change that. It’s who I am.”

  Cyrus nodded. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you. I still love you.”

  “I hoped so,” Mark said, smiling. Warmth radiated out through his core, keeping him stable, keeping him close to Cyrus. “I love you, too. Not despite of who you are, but because of who you are. All the parts of you are perfect for me.”

  He shifted toward Cyrus and said, “Is it all right if I kiss you?”

  “If you’re okay with the news van nearby, then I am.”

  Mark laughed, feeling lighter and warmer than he had in years. Scooching toward Cyrus, he placed a kiss on Cyrus’s lips. “Thank you for being here. I’m so sorry I hurt you earlier.”

  “It’s okay,” Cyrus said. “I’m sorry for lying about being a dragon.”