by D. Fischer
The dragon observes the honesty, my emotions evidently spread across my unwavering posture, and her eyes sweep my face repeatedly. The fire expanding her chest sluggishly sinks inside her, and I allow a small, genuine smile for my victory.
I reach out further and take a step forward. “I see you, Katriane DuPont.”
The glowing eyes watch my hand, and as I close the distance, she reluctantly pushes her muzzle into my palm. It feels like hardened leather, sleek armor, and just as hot as her tail though it still doesn’t burn me.
A single tear spills from her right eye and trickles down the jagged slope of her face. The drop touches the tip of my finger and I gasp as the tear absorbs into my skin. A warmth seeps into the bone, wraps the stiff joint of my wrist, and travels up the length of my arm. Quickly, the warmth spreads to each muscle and relieves their knotted tension then quests to areas of my body I was unaware ached until they healed with the blissful sensation.
Kat’s tears can heal, I marvel in numbing awe.
A wider grin tugs at the relaxed muscles of my face, pride vibrating in my veins, and I run my hand further up, settling at the top of her rounded jaw. Enjoying the sensation, her eyelids flutter closed with contentment. A deep sigh whooshes from her lungs, pushing away the chilling breeze and stinging flakes.
I lean, and inside me, my wolf sneaks closer to the surface, a pressure-like sensation in my brain. The green glow of my wolf’s eyes sparkles against her wet scales, searching hers. When she makes no move to harm me, I close them and lean the rest of the distance, gently placing my newly-healed lips to her muzzle.
The scales shift and stack under my hands, rough against my kiss, and when I open my eyes, the soft pale skin of Katriane DuPont is under my lips. Her short hair is wet and tousled, and when the wind whistles in the space once blocked by a dragon, she shivers with no defense against the chill.
She’s naked, I realize.
I remove my hand from her jaw, unbutton my shirt, and fold her inside my warmth.
Her cheek presses against my skin, and she’s silent for several moments as we listen to the soft fall of snow.
“I see you, too,” she whispers.
Tucking my chin, I look down at her. My wolf sighs contentedly and retreats with satisfaction that his mate is safe, taking his glow with him. Kat’s dark eyes glint my reflection, and when a small grateful smile replaces her chattering teeth, I bend and touch my lips to hers, a proper kiss. A wordless promise.
A soft sigh presses her chest against mine, swelling my heart. My name is exhaled next, emotions behind the syllables, before she falls limp in my arms.
I freeze after I grab her, a spike of adrenaline burning my chest for fear she’s dead. When a cloud of evaporation slithers between her nostrils, I breathe an audible gust of relief.
If she were dead, I would be, too. We are tied in more ways than mates, and my heart literally belongs to her.
I hoist her in my arms with little effort, marveling that such a tiny person can cause so much destruction. With effort, I tuck her inside my shirt as best I can, leaving her legs to dangle in the air.
Bending my head, I peck the bridge of her eyebrow. “I’ve got you,” I whisper to her.
Turning, the village my destination, my attention is caught by a flicker of movement.
“Dyson Coleman,” someone calls. The voice carries in the breeze, and my eyes pin to the movement, a rotating swirl of black and gold sparkles.
My wolf flashes his glowing warning and growls inside me, prepared to protect our mate.
What is it? Extraterrestrial? A new creature of the Guardian Realm? I’ve seen the prenumbras. They had fought alongside us in the village at the beginning and had stayed behind when the Cloven Pack ventured into the woods to beat back the threat. But this thing is something else entirely, hovering well above the ground with no mouth to speak words.
The male voice chuckles, hearing my thoughts. “Dyson Coleman, protector and mate to the savior of the realms . . .” He trails off, a gesture of arrogance.
I step back, and my spine jars against a tree. “Who are you?” I ask cautiously.
“Always the same questions. It matters not what or who I am.” The swirls take shape to a human form with no facial features, resembling a thick stick figure. “It only matters what your next move is.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why do I get the feeling you have the answers?” I know an extra angle when I see one. I’ve dealt with double-meaning phrases like this before.
“Because I do, Dyson, Born of Strategy.” The glittering black and gold shoulders lift with a slow shrug.
Despite my desires to do so, we talk for quite some time. He speaks for longer than I like, spinning Fated tales and future dos and don’ts. I learn a great deal from him, secrets I’m meant to keep, and finally, when my patience wears thin, he lets us leave. Kat’s toes are beginning to turn bright white, and the last thing I want is for her to have frostbite. She’d never believe my excuse for dead toes.
As I shuffle into the village, Kat’s dangling feet jab my hips. Exhaustion slows my gait, and the cramping muscles are beginning to return. I survey the village and tuck Kat’s head under my chin.
I find the group gathered in front of the teepee the pack has claimed, and once spotting me, they turn at my approach.
“Thank the Divine,” Erma swears.
I meet Sandy’s gaze squarely, his brows dipped in a question. Nodding my head to him, I let him know my mate is well. His tense shoulders drop with relief, and he blinks his thanks.
Erma places a hand on Kat’s forehead and then checks her over for injury, lifting my shirt away to do so.
“Just fainted,” I supply before she can pummel me with questions. She nods and backs away, arms tight across her chest.
The entire group tightens in a circle protectively. I understand the gesture. They care for Kat, and without her, many more would have fallen today. It’s funny how a miniature war can change someone’s opinion of another. Not so funny . . . more pathetic.
Scratching the stubble of my chin against Kat’s hair, I look around while discretely inhaling her scent.
Smokey teepees and trees backdrop the group. Children no longer cry, and the prenumbras have been left to roam as an extra precaution. One of the brave creatures pads between Evo and Kenna and approaches me tentatively, his long ears drooped in submission. In a silent plea, he leans forward precariously, back legs outstretched as though to balance himself. I cluck to the sightless aura dog. With this verbal acceptance, the prenumbra licks the bottom of Kat’s cold foot. The saliva leaves behind a trail of green aura which quickly slicks from her foot and splats to the snow.
Erline thunders forward and snatches the fur blanket draped on Kenna’s shoulders, despite her shout of disapproval, and shoos the creature away before laying it over Kat’s body. She mutters curses when her touch grazes Kat’s cold skin. Her eyes meet mine, searches their depths, and then she backs away under the weight of my possessive gaze.
Watching Erline’s retreat to the circle, Flint strides to my side and peers at Kat over my shoulder. “What happened out there?” Flint murmurs, concerned.
His closeness doesn’t bother me, nor does it raise the need to protect my mate from another male. I know his own is waiting at home for him, back in the Earth Realm. She’s taking care of Kat’s shop. Irene is my mate’s best friend, and I would do nothing to jeopardize the intertwined relationships, not when love and friends are what we need most right now. There’s an enemy everywhere I turn these days.
“I -” I stop and frown. “I don’t actually know.”
“Huh?” he gently grunts. “As in you don’t remember, or the English language is failing you?”
I eye him and half smile.
He shrugs. “Hey, it happens to me all the time, especially where my mate is concerned. There are no words in the English dictionary to describe how much she infuriates me and makes me love her all at once.” He snorts and crosses his arms.
His coat swishes with the action. “Women.”
I chuckle my agreement. “Do you miss her?” I ask soberly.
The humor flees his eyes, taking his grin with it, and he ticks his jaw. “More than words,” he admits, and I know exactly what he means.
When Tember approaches, Flint and I fall silent and warily watch as she smooths her fingers through Kat’s disheveled hair.
“You’re her mate then?” she inquires with a whisper.
“I am.”
Her cheeks puff as she tucks the corners of her lips inside her mouth. “She is our means of survival, Dyson. I’ve never been able to truly care for her - not the way she deserves.” She lifts her eyes to mine. “Promise me you’ll protect her in a way I never could.”
I search her face then flick my eyes to the elf, Jaemes, behind her. He nods to me once and returns a concerned expression to his friend’s back.
“I will,” I vow. And with that, she nods and slinks away. Jaemes trails after her, flicking me an exasperated but apologetic expression, and the prenumbra obediently follows on his heels. He hisses the creature away before I’m pulled from watching their retreating backs.
“Dyson,” Evo rumbles, his hands on Kenna’s furless shoulders. “Dyson, you should hand her over.”
“Let this brute take her to rest,” Kenna adds, flicking a thumb at Mitus’ looming form.
I narrow my eyes at the mated pair while Mitus scowls. The look is funny on the tribe leader’s face, and I have a difficult time holding my serious expression. Brenna looks away, tucking a smile between her teeth, and Erma pats Mitus’ bulking forearm comfortingly.
Erline steps forward again when Mitus makes no move to do so. “I’ll take her.”
Flint growls at my back, but she meets my gaze the same way the prenumbra did, a gesture of submission with her hands clasped neatly in front of her, her chin tucked tightly.
I nod, and she approaches, holding out her arms. Reluctantly, I pass Kat’s sleeping body over, but not before I inhale deeply and take my fill of her scent.
As Kat’s weight is fully transferred, I hover my arms under her body, a moment of concern that Erline may not be able to hold her. She looks so slender. But Erline gracefully turns and escorts Kat to the nearest vacant and still-standing teepee. A gust of wind blows by, opening the fur door, and Erline dips inside with my mate.
“So,” Brenna begins abruptly, rocking on the back of her heels. “This is a shitstorm. Would anyone mind sharing some sort of plan?” She studies the group and observes everyone’s discomfort. None give her answers, and she pops her lips to fill the awkward void.
Luckily, I have some.
I survey the village, still in disarray, and watch as puffs of white smoke rise to mix with the somber clouds. I push a hand through my hair and tug on the ends. My arms feel abandoned without Kat in them, and my wolf urges me to leave the group and explanation in favor of my mate.
“Look,” I begin with a shaky sigh.
A sense of deja vu resurfaces, whisking my words away. It’s a memory of when I was assembling a rebellion with the shades. Then, the people who had gathered to hear what I had to say were reluctant to do so, but now, these people look to me for answers. My people. My friends.
I swallow and bob my head in small, quick successions. “None of us expected this. A year ago, I would have told you this was all impossible.” I look to Flint over my shoulder, and his eyes avert from mine. My words bring back terrible memories for him, but it needs to be said.
In a comforting gesture, I touch his shoulder and squeeze the muscle there before pressing on. “I know I hold no authority here.” My gaze flicks to those who do, but they intently listen, unwilling to interrupt my speech. “We won this round-”
“At a great cost,” Mitus adds, cutting me off, his accent thick.
“Yes,” I admit, and cross my arms. “At a great cost. But we can’t say we weren’t expecting a retaliation. We stirred a lot of trouble in the Death Realm.”
“And trouble will continue to follow you.” Mitus jabs a long finger at me. “Each of you come with your own set of complicated problems. I should have never allowed you in my village.”
Flint scoffs and paces shortly behind me as if the action would hold his tongue.
“There was no warning,” Erma declares in my defense. “None could predict the angels would swap loyalties and attack a tribe of warriors.”
“Did you know the angels had planned to join the opposing team?” Mitus barks.
The sparkling man had told me about this. The majority of angels have sided with Corbin, fallen from grace for more favorable pastures. Those who haven’t, fled back to the Earth Realm to hover over their charges. They know something terrible is brewing.
He also claimed there is no way to prevent it. This plan has been set in motion for a while, and Corbin’s motives and manipulation have been in play since the day he bound with Myla in marriage, hundreds of years ago. The discovery of the relationship between Erma and Tember was the tipping point.
Obviously, Erma is aware of this and has been discussing it with people of importance while I was gone. None of the group seems shocked by the news, and we already know Sureen, Kheelan, and Corbin are bound and determined to watch evil snuff the light.
She doesn’t give a definitive answer and directs the conversation to another matter consuming her thoughts. “I have to take back the Angel’s Ground.” Her declaration leaves no room for open discussion.
Despite Mitus’ obvious bristle, I nod. “And you should.”
Their home is their home. No one should be kept from their own home. It’s not up to Mitus whether the good angels decide to take back what’s theirs. If I could, I’d do the same. My gaze flicks to Kat’s tent. I am doing the same.
I turn to the rest of the group and widen my stance. “Aiden.” He lifts his head away from Eliza’s ear. “You wish to go after Corbin?”
He had said as much when we were reunited, making sure I knew he wasn’t going to stick around while discreetly asking me to watch over Eliza while he’s gone.
Aiden blinks his confirmation. He’s never one for many words. “Good. We need intel and you’re the only one who can get it.” I pause, choosing my next words carefully. “I’m going to ask once, and I’ll respect your answer, whatever you choose. But choose wisely.”
“Hmm?” he grunts, and shifts his arm around Eliza’s waist. A slow blink of adoration fans her long red eyelashes when he tucks her tighter to his chest. I didn’t fail to miss the gesture, nor the sour expression. He’s not pleased that Eliza will be hearing his plans and intentions, but she can’t be kept in the dark. I wouldn’t want my mate to keep secrets from me, and I won’t allow him to do so. The time for secrets is over.
“I’m going to ask you not to kill him,” I say briskly.
Eliza pins a murderous glare to Aiden’s chin, the adoration quickly fleeing.
I continue. “We don’t know what we’re up against, and we have no inside man. I want that man to be you.”
He watches me, unblinking, while he mentally goes to war between our needs and his desires. Finally, he dips his chin in confirmation. I don’t trust it. All I can do is hope that when he’s face to face with Corbin, he heeds my request. I don’t know if Aiden can even kill Corbin, but I don’t want to chance it.
“No,” Eliza says firmly.
I point at her, knowing what she’ll demand next. “You cannot go. Did you notice Kheelan arrived when you used your magic?” She averts her gaze. “You’re a supernatural GPS when it comes to the enemy. You must stay here. You mustn’t use your magic. And you were a doctor before. They could use your help here.”
Mitus grunts, cutting off my speech. “We’re guardians, wolf. We heal quickly.”
I blink twice at the leader of elves. “Still,” I grit. “You could use another healer.”
“And what about you?” Sandy inquires, his deep voice jarring my hearing.
“We - you, Kat, and I -
will be going to the Dream Realm.”
Fear twinkles in his white eyes, and he crosses his arms to hide his trembling. He doesn’t want to go back, and for a moment, I sympathize with him. If someone told me I was to go on a mission in the Death Realm, I’d probably flat out refuse. There are just too many grievous memories held for me on that realm.
Returning to his own will be a great emotional risk for Sandy, but we can’t navigate it without him. With my luck, I’d stumble into a pile of dream dust, like a raked stack of brittle autumn leaves, and slumber for the rest of eternity.
Erma props her hands on her hips. “You can’t.”
I hold up a hand and practically snatch the protest from her next words with the gesture of silence. “The choice isn’t up to you. You have your job. The three of us have ours. Aiden and Eliza have theirs. Erline will stay with the Elves and make sure they’re not harmed while ensuring Eliza remains away from Kheelan’s grasp.”
“Eliza cannot control her emotions, which seem to be tied to her mated magic. Whenever she’s frightened, she uses it.” Aiden adds and kisses the top of Eliza’s red tangled hair to soothe the frown marring her features. He would know - he does consume fear. “Someone needs to make sure she doesn’t draw attention to herself. Erline is a good choice.”
Mitus mutters another language under his breath and stalks off, disappearing around the teepee Kat rests in. He reminds me of a bear lumbering on only two legs.
“You gave Sureen the ability to create life, did you not?” I ask Erma.
“How did -”
“How did I know?” I bite out.
It boils my blood that she would even consider such a thing, knowing this war is inevitable, and it frustrates me to the end of the realms that the fee sling around power like it’s leprechaun gold and to be equally shared.
“Let’s just say a little birdy told me,” I add.
“There are no birds here,” she starts, but I silence her with a simple look.
They don’t need to know where the information came from, not until I’ve discussed things with Kat. She needs to know, but an inkling in my gut tells me she already does. Most of the time, she seems one step ahead of the rest. She was born to lead if not made to do so.