Donovan rumbled softly. Dragon laughter. “I think I can manage that.”
“See that you do.” Mother crouched beside me, her brow furrowed with concern. “How’s the leg? I can get you a spelled poultice to draw out the pain.”
“No.” I gave my calf one final rub. “I think it’s okay. Help me up?”
Mother stood and obligingly gave me a hand up. Standing helped stretch the knotted muscle, and most of the pain slid away.
Donovan nudged me with his snout. “Do you want me to go get—” More dragon laughter. “—that contraption you sit on?”
Every bit of my remaining strength drained out of me, leaving me feeling like a curiously empty shell. And near tears for no reason. Everything was all right. Everyone was safe, so why did I feel like I was falling apart? Delayed shock perhaps. Whatever it was, all I wanted was Donovan in human form with his arms wrapped around me.
“I just want to go home,” I said plaintively. “I trust you. You won’t drop me. Will I be too heavy to carry in your claws all the way?”
Donovan snorted. “If you didn’t look so forlorn and bedraggled, I’d be insulted right now. Too heavy? I’m a dragon not a house cat, Marley.”
“I’m sure it won’t take that long to get the chair thing,” Mother said, worry puckering the skin between her eyes. “In the meantime, you can come to the kitchen and have a nice cup of tea.”
I sighed, not wanting to hurt her feelings. “I’m not afraid, Mother, and I really want to go home.”
“But this is...” she trailed off, a look of hopeless resignation dawning in her eyes.
“I guess it’s really true,” she mumbled, not looking at me. “You really do love this dragon, and this isn’t your home anymore. Don’t mind me. I’m just a mother feeling low because one of her chicks has flown the nest. You’ll find out someday when your child grows up and leaves you.” Her eyes glistened and she wiped them with the back of her hand. “It’s difficult.”
“Mother.” I embraced her, feeling like our roles had been reversed because I was the one comforting her. “This is still my home. A person can have more than one home. Just because I belong with Donovan on Zodiac Mountain doesn’t mean I’ll never come see you. He has guard duty every weekend. I can come spend Saturdays and Sundays with you and the rest of the coven. You’ll hardly have time to miss me, and I’ll be back again. You’ll see.”
She hugged me back, nodding her head.
Renata and Eileen returned with a dress and four blankets. Mother and I took two of them and we formed a makeshift dressing room for Emily.
When she’d donned Renata’s dress, which was two sizes too big and swam on her, her poor face and arms were covered in welts left by the magical net.
I looked at my own arms and saw the same welts, only fainter because I hadn’t been trapped for so long, nor had I struggled half as much.
Mother put her hand on Emily’s shoulder and gave her a smile. “Those welts will fade. They won’t scar. If they hurt, I have some ointment in the cottage. Would you like to come inside? Maybe have some tea as well?”
“Mother, may I?” Emily looked at Val, still in dragon form. Val grumbled low in her throat, but Rabb nodded his huge head.
“Go ahead, child. But no exchanging names. Not yet. And be sure to thank the witch for everything she gives you.”
Val added, “And don’t think I don’t recognize this as a delaying tactic to avoid discussing your egregious behavior today. Solo flight at your age!” She snorted violently.
Rabb turned his attention to Mother. “No magic, please. Just plain ointment. Dragons don’t much like magic.”
“I’m sure that’s our fault,” Mother said, more graciously than I could have imagined. “Perhaps, in time, your opinion on the subject will change.”
“Perhaps,” Rabb said, but without much enthusiasm.
“We’ll wait right here,” Val promised as Mother led Emily toward the cottage.
“You’ll wait twenty feet to the left if you don’t mind. And watch the untrampled lavender plants as you get your big feet out of my field. No sense in killing the rest of them,” Grandmother grumbled. Clucking her tongue, she surveyed the lavender. “Look at this travesty. Half the plants crushed to death. You dragons couldn’t have been a little less clumsy?”
I stiffened, waiting for Val and Rabb to explode in fury. Instead, they hastily moved to stand in the grass verge between the lavender and basil fields.
“Incredible,” I murmured, sure I must be dreaming.
“You, too,” Grandmother yelled at Donovan, making shooing gestures with the hand she wasn’t using to hang onto Eleanora to keep upright. “Just because you’re married to my granddaughter doesn’t give you special privileges.”
“At least not with her,” Donovan whispered as close to my ear as his big snout could get. Then he winked.
“You bad dragon,” I cried, swatting him. “You bring me home right now. I’ll show you special privileges!”
“I’m counting on it.” Donovan winked again.
Chapter 12
After a long soak in the hot spring pool, the teary shakiness that had gripped me in the lavender field drained away.
I wrapped a towel around myself and made my way back to our chambers, where Donovan was busy making dinner.
The appetizing scents of roasting chicken and potatoes greeted me when I emerged from the bathroom smoothing my skirt.
Donovan looked up when I entered the kitchen, and my breath caught at the way his eyes lit when he saw me.
A huge grin nearly split his face, and he waggled his eyebrows at me. “So, little witch, what’s this about loving me?”
He dashed around the table, hands outstretched to grab me, and I danced backward, laughing.
“Don’t get cocky, dragon. You’re already conceited enough!”
“I wouldn’t agree with that. My ego is considerably smaller than most dragons’. I think it could use some inflating. So, go ahead, tell me how much you adore me, I can take it.”
“I’m sure you can,” I said, lips quirking. “But I think I’d rather eat first. Declarations of love on an empty stomach are weak.”
Donovan laughed before backing me against the wall, where he placed both hands above my shoulders to box me in and leaned so close his body brushed mine.
“Maybe you’re traditional and want to hear it from me first.” He nibbled my earlobe, sending a tingle down my spine. “So even though your entire family has spilled the beans about how you really feel, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear anything and make the next move.” He lowered his mouth to mine. “I love you, Marley. You do know that, don’t you?”
“I do now,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around his neck. We kissed until something boiled over, and the kitchen fire hissed and spit, making us jump apart.
“Damn this inconvenient meal.” Donovan stalked to the hearth to save the potatoes.
I busied myself setting the table, smiling at how natural and right our little domestic rituals felt.
“Listen.” Donovan set the pot of potatoes in the sink. He turned, his expression vulnerable, all his former amused bravado evaporated. “Before we eat, I’ve got something I want to show you.”
If not for the strange entreaty in his eyes, I would have made a ribald comment about what exactly he had in mind. Instead, I nodded.
He took my hand and led me out of the great room, into the hallway. We passed our bedroom and stopped outside the locked room.
“Your treasure room,” I whispered as he took a set of keys out of his pocket and inserted one into the lock. “But this is yours, Donovan.”
“I know.” He twisted the key. “But I want to share it with you.”
“Only dragons who truly love their mates share their private treasure room!” I protested, frozen to the ground by the implications. “I know you love me, but you love me that much?”
For an answer, Donovan opened the door.
Holding my breath, I crossed t
he threshold. Piles of gold coins rested in corners. Dusty old books lined a bookshelf. Tables groaned beneath coffers of jewelry and other trinkets. A beautiful mirror had been hung above the fireplace mantel. No chairs or sofas to sit; every piece of furniture was made to hold objects, not people.
In the very center of the room, an old pirate’s chest rested on an antique rug. A thick silver padlock made sure no one could open it but Donovan.
He watched me inspect his treasures, an oddly expectant smile spreading across his lips.
“Go ahead, touch. Take anything you like,” he invited, when I hesitantly stretched my hand toward a lovely jeweled bracelet.
“Take?” I stared at him. “But these are your treasures.”
“No,” he shook his head. “Now that I’ve opened the room to you they’re yours, too. Dragon law, Marley.”
Tentatively, I slid the bracelet over my fingers till it settled on my wrist.
“So beautiful,” I marveled, twisting my hand this way and that to catch the light from the sconces burning on the wall.
“It’s yours,” he said.
“It does seem a shame to lock it away and never use it,” I whispered, because speaking in a loud voice seemed oddly disrespectful.
After I’d prowled the room three times and still hadn’t come close to examining even a quarter of the treasures, Donovan handed me a key.
“For the padlock.” He nodded toward the pirate’s chest.
“Oh, no!” I shook my head. “That chest must contain your most valuable treasure. Keep something for yourself, Donovan.”
“Valuable, yes,” he agreed. “But probably not in the way you think. Nothing in there is worth much in trade, but what’s in there means the most to me in the world.” He flashed me an affectionate grin. “Except for you now. And small as you are, you still wouldn’t fit in there.”
Warmth bloomed in my cheeks. I leaned forward to brush his lips with mine.
“I do love you,” I told him. “I can’t imagine my life without you.”
“Me neither,” he said, complete adoration shining from his eyes. “Now open the chest, little witch; the suspense is killing me.”
I turned to the chest, key in hand. “Does my opinion really matter so much?”
“It’s worth more than all the jewels and gold in this room,” he said.
My hand shook as I inserted the key. Excitement mounted inside me. What in the world could this chest contain that was more valuable than anything I’d seen so far in the fabulous room?
The lock popped, and the padlock slipped to the rug. The lid creaked as I lifted it. Biting my lip, I peered inside. Three items lay on the bottom of the chest. One was a little wooden box I recognized. Papa had made it to contain the silver dragon charm I’d given Donovan on our wedding day. Next to it curled the rawhide strip that had been lashed around our wrists that same day.
A lump rose in my throat when I looked at the third treasure. I recognized it, too.
“Bunny,” I breathed, barely daring to believe what I saw. “You kept her.”
“I found her outside my chambers a few days after I tried to present her to the council. I’m sure Balthasar left her for me. Probably he took her when the others were meting out my punishment. They would have thrown her on the fire.
“She was the start of my collection. By far my favorite thing. Every time I looked at her, I saw a funny little witch girl earnestly talking about ‘peets offerings’ and trying not to cry because she was giving up her most precious treasure in the world. How could I have treated her as anything less than that myself?”
Donovan’s voice caught for a moment. “I told the council how dear she was to you. You’d tried to even the scales. Your coven took our most precious treasure, and you offered yours in return. It was a fair deal, Marley, and if I’d been on that council I would have taken it.”
Reverently, I lifted Bunny from the bottom of the chest and stroked her soft, white fur. Bare patches showed in some places, worn down by constant hugging and adventures in fields and treehouses.
Tears clogged my throat. “I wonder if she would still talk to me.”
“I don’t see why not. She was enchanted for you. Let me step outside so you can be alone. I know she’ll only talk when no one else is around.” Donovan quietly exited, closing the door behind him.
The only sound in the room was the rush of blood in my ears and my uneven breathing.
Bunny—after all these years.
Smiling, I said, “Hello, Bunny. Do you remember me?”
“Hi, Marley,” squeaked Bunny in that same funny voice I remembered from childhood. “You’re a big girl now.”
“Not too big for my Bunny,” I whispered, hugging her to my chest as tears dripped down my face. “I’m so sorry I had to send you away. I missed you so much!”
“I missed you, too!” Bunny piped. “Nobody’s hugged me in ages. Can I come play with you again? I know! We could have a tea party!”
“We could,” I agreed, burying my wet face in her soft fur. “Would you like to come and have one now?”
“Yes!” she squealed.
My funny old bunny. Hugging her, I walked to the door and opened it.
“She still talks,” I told Donovan, who waited just outside the room. He reached out to wipe the tears from my face with his thumbs. “Can she come sit at the dinner table with us?”
“She’s yours, little witch. You can bring her anywhere you like.”
“She’s ours,” I told him. “You kept her safe all these years. Maybe someday, if we have a child, they’ll want to play with her.”
“I would like that more than anything,” Donovan told me, his face alight. “Now come, let’s sit down and eat. Bunny can have pride of place at the head of the table.”
I laughed through my tears.
Ceremoniously, I placed Bunny in her designated chair. Donovan gave her a teacup and saucer. He even filled the cup with tea.
I sat across from him, and looked down with hungry anticipation at my plate heaped high with chicken, peas, and potatoes.
Frowning, I poked at the mound of mashed potatoes with my fork. “Why is there a blue tinge to these potatoes?”
“I dunno. Taste them and find out,” Donovan suggested.
I peered at him and the potatoes suspiciously.
“You put a magical tuber in here,” I accused.
Slowly he nodded, his eyes full of desperate hope.
“Please,” he said in a choked voice. “I don’t want to watch you grow old and die. I want you to stay with me for a thousand years.”
I sighed and stared at my fork. “You might, but what about the rest of the clan? Don’t you think we should ask first?”
“Who do you think gave me the tuber? I can’t just put my hands on one anytime I like,” Donovan said. “Balthasar and his wife, the heads of the council and the clan, knocked on our door when you were bathing. They had a chest—the one that long-ago dragon buried in a field your aunt decided to cultivate one morning. Inside, a single blue tuber. For you.”
Donovan’s mouth twisted. “Please eat it. If you do, that box is going into my pirate’s chest because it will represent a long, happy life with you, which is what I want more than anything. Please, Marley, the Tauria clan wants you to, not just me.”
I took a deep breath and held it for a moment, my head whirling.
Donovan’s emerald green eyes, full of entreaty and love, gleamed with unshed tears.
I pictured how he’d look, young and handsome, holding my withered, age-spotted hand as I lay on my death bed. How I’d break his heart when I died, just as that long-ago witch had broken the heart of her dragon. He’d stopped eating the tuber so he could join her. Wasn’t it fitting that I start eating the tuber to stay with my true love?
I raised my fork and put it my mouth. The potatoes barely masked the strong, sweet taste of the tuber. When I swallowed, the world reeled for a moment as the magic took root.
Donovan smi
led at me, even as tears trickled down his cheeks.
I smiled back at him and said, “And they lived happily ever after.”
THE END
USA Today bestselling author, Amy Lee Burgess, is a transplanted New Englander living in Raleigh, North Carolina with two dogs and lots of DVDs. Amy has long been a fan and writer of paranormal romance and urban fantasy. Wolf shifters, vampires, dragons, gargoyles, and other assorted creatures can be found living between the pages of her books and within her heart.
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