by T. S. Joyce
Vyr jumped off the roof and landed smoothly right in front of the little gorilla. Dane skidded to a stop in the snow, stood on his back two legs, and clumsily drummed his fists against his chest.
“Bite him,” Nox demanded. “Dane, Uncky Nox will give you raspberry Dum Dums if you bite the big ugly sky-lizard.”
“Nox!” Torren and Candace both yelled.
Vyr hadn’t held Dane since Riyah had lost the twins. Memories flashed across her mind of Vyr watching Dane play and eat and sleep, but never ever picking him up like the rest of the Crew. He’d distanced himself from the child after his loss.
She fully expected him to do the same again. “No biting,” he said sternly, his hands clasped formally behind his back.
Dane snapped his teeth. Just a little click, probably learned from Nox.
Vyr narrowed his eyes at the child, but Riyah didn’t miss it—the slight smile that curved his lips for just a moment and then disappeared. Kneeling down, Vyr got eye level with the little ruffian and brushed a knuckle along Dane’s cheek, tempting a bite. Dane stared back at him with wide, shocked brown eyes and then gripped Vyr’s finger in his strong little fist.
Riyah was going to lose it. She was going to lose it! Vyr stood suddenly, but Dane held onto that finger until Vyr drew him smoothly against his chest. The hug happened so fast, Riyah would have missed it if she hadn’t been paying attention. It was a quick embrace, and then Vyr stooped and settled Dane on all fours. He ghosted Riyah a glance before he turned abruptly and went inside, the screen door slamming so loud behind him, the sound echoed through the mountains.
Little Kong, as the Crew called Dane, watched Vyr until he was gone, his round eyes steady but confused. Riyah squatted down in the snow and patted her fists on her chest with a smile for the little hellion.
Dane didn’t feel like playing rough anymore. He walked sideways to her on all fours, eyes going to the screen door three times before he reached her. He climbed up into her arms and wrapped himself around her torso, held on quietly.
“Little brawler,” she crooned, stroking her fingers down his furry back. “Beating your chest at a dragon. You’re going to grow up tough and strong just like your mom and dad, aren’t you?”
She looked up at Torren, but she couldn’t read the expression on his face as he stared at the screen door Vyr had disappeared into.
Riyah sighed. “He did better than he’s done in a long time. Vyr will come around. He just needs time.”
Torren shook his head slowly, his eyes flashing green. “He’s getting worse, and you know it.”
Being the most affectionate in the Crew, Nevada stood beside Riyah and rested her cheek against her shoulder, and then she said softly, “You don’t give up on him, Torren. That’s not what we do.”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Torren growled.
“Hey, fuckface, watch your tone with Nevada,” Nox snarled, hopping out of the excavator.
“Oh, God, here we go again,” Candace muttered.
Yep, it was fight time. Why? Because the boys needed to. They had all been fighters before they were in a Crew, and now they had an Alpha whose bond had been making them all sick for months. As much as Riyah tried to block the bond between the Crew and Vyr, it was still slowly poisoning the boys anyway. The only thing that made them feel better was fighting.
Torren jumped off the roof and landed hard in the snow. He stood to his full height and roared an inhuman sound. His teeth elongated, and the veins in his neck stood out. Nox didn’t waste time with warnings—he just Changed into his massive blond grizzly bear.
“Dammit, Nox!” Nevada yelled. “I just got you those jeans!” The jeans in question were now tatters on the snow as the bear came charging for Torren.
Riyah shook her head sadly. This shouldn’t be happening. They shouldn’t have to bleed each other to stay steady. She couldn’t block any more of the bond to Vyr. She felt helpless to help them, helpless to help Vyr, helpless to get them back on track. Little Kong deserved a good Crew to grow up in, and they were all failing.
Torren’s monstrous silverback ripped out of him and barreled toward Nox on all fours.
Riyah didn’t want to watch. It was always the same. Violent and brutal, like they hated each other. But she knew better. The boys loved each other, which made their fights even worse. Even more disappointing. She carried Dane to Candace, and as she passed the big front picture window, she looked up to find Vyr staring at Nox and Torren’s fight, his eyes vacant, his arms crossed across his broad chest. His attention flickered down to Riyah and then held on Dane for a few seconds before he turned and disappeared into the dark room inside.
Until he disappeared…
That was his move now.
Disappearing.
He would fade and fade until he was completely gone. Unless she stopped him.
“When the boys Change back, bring them inside.”
“For what?” Candace asked, taking Dane from her arms.
“I’m calling a Crew meeting.”
“Okay,” Nevada whispered from beside Candace, her face averted from the fight. She looked a little green around the gills. “But Vyr hasn’t called one in months. I don’t think he’ll want a meeting.”
“I don’t give a shit about wants anymore. I care about needs. What we’ve been doing isn’t working.” Riyah shrugged. “Time to change it up.”
Chapter Five
“The boys need to apologize.” Riyah looked from Torren, who yawned, to Nox’s blank face, to Nevada’s downturned gaze, to Candace who was holding Dane. And then she braved a glance at Vyr, but he was staring out the window, sitting by himself on the couch, away from the rest of them.
“Apologize for what?” Torren rumbled low.
“To the Daughters of Beasts.”
Vyr huffed a breath and shook his head, eyes still on the window to the snow outside.
Riyah lifted her chin and stood from the bar stool she’d been sitting on. “There are so many broken things we need to fix. So many. And starting now, we will tackle the big ones. One of the cracks in our foundation is that war. Vyr, you forced it. You dragged the boys into it, and they had to go against your friends from Damon’s Mountains. It’s left poison in our bonds. It’s left resentment. I can feel it. I know you can feel it, too.”
“I can’t feel anything because you’ve closed everything off,” Nevada whispered.
Riyah closed her eyes and pulled her power away from her friends. Not just a little either. She let them see what she’d been absorbing. Let them feel it.
Nevada and Torren doubled over. Nox swallowed hard and looked like he would retch. Candace did gag, and Dane started crying. And Vyr…Vyr ran his hands down his red beard with a shaking hand. A shaking hand. She’d never seen her mate shake before.
She sighed in relief at not having to bear the burden of their sick bonds for a few seconds. And then she closed her eyes again and imagined coating them all in her power. The green sickly aura redirected into her, and she steeled herself to take it back without flinching.
When she opened her eyes again, Vyr’s eyes were bright silver with elongated pupils and locked on her. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I don’t want you to hurt. I love all of you. If I can stop hurt, I always will.”
“How do we apologize?” Nevada asked over the sound of Dane’s snuffling.
“Vyr needs to move again. His dragon is searching for something. We have to keep him from claiming new territory, but we can’t just tie up the Red Dragon in the basement. We all saw what that shifter prison did to him. He wanted to burn the entire earth when he got out. I think we should go to Grim’s Mountains and see his Crew. Vyr sees something special in Grim. A kindred spirit maybe. He can re-burn the mountains there and maybe it’ll settle the dragon for a little while.”
“Decline,” Vyr growled. “I didn’t kill them. That was apology enough.”
“Well, that’s the thing, mate,” Riyah snarled. “You do
n’t have a fuckin’ choice anymore. It’s on you to save yourself and save us. Keep going like this, and your dragon will drag us all through hell, and I’ve already seen it. I’m tired of rock bottom.”
“We all are,” Torren said low, attention on his mate. Whatever passed between Candace and him, Riyah couldn’t tell, but after a few seconds, Torren cleared his throat and said, “I’ll need a day to get everything situated with the lumber yard.”
Candace nodded slightly and smiled at Torren. It was a small one, but a smile nonetheless. “Nevada and I can keep it running so we don’t have to close it down while you’re gone. Go. Keep Vyr safe.”
Torren huffed. “My job was never to keep him safe. It was to keep the world safe from him.”
“An impossible task,” Nox sang softly. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet. “Do you feel the sickness of the bonds all the time, Riyah?”
She inhaled deeply. “I don’t want to talk about—”
“Do you?” Vyr asked sternly.
Riyah tried to smile. “When it gets really bad, I go to the orchard. I don’t know what it is about that place, but it makes everything feel better. Maybe it would be good for you to go sometime, too.”
Vyr’s face smoothed of all emotion in a heartbeat. “I’ll make the travel arrangements.” He stood and made his way toward the office, his stride stiff and fast, his hands clasped behind his back.
Riyah was good and done with these infinite rejections, though, so she stood and followed him. No more escaping her. No more running away. He was sitting in the office chair by the time she got there, his back to her, the drawer open.
“I love you, you know,” she said. “Always will.”
He closed the drawer and cracked his knuckles, stared at the dark laptop screen. “I know. I saw that when you lifted the wall. I wish I could just get better for you.” A long, low dragon’s snarl filled the room, rattling the floor beneath her feet. “Fuck,” he whispered, scrubbing his hands over his face until the noise faded.
Riyah approached him slowly, slipped her arms around his shoulders, and kissed the side of his neck gently. “Go see them.”
“See who?” he asked carefully.
She reached over him and pulled the desk drawer open. Oh, she’d found his hidden stash months ago. It was a pair of ultrasound pictures, worn at the corners as if he’d held them a hundred times.
“See them.”
As she pulled away, he suddenly grabbed her wrist and kissed the palm of her hand. “Everything will be okay.”
She smiled again. Actually smiled. “I know it will. No one will ever have as much faith in another person as I have in you.”
“You’re not going to let me fail, are you?” he asked softly.
And with utter confidence, she inhaled deeply and uttered, “No.”
She would do horrible things to make sure he succeeded in controlling the dragon. She would use her power against the Red Dragon himself if pushed. Come hell or high water, Vyr was going to cage his demons and gain control again.
Even if she had to be the cage.
Chapter Six
A hundred miles stretched from Vyr to the two little stones at the edge of Riyah’s orchard. His legs were frozen, just like every other time he’d tried to do this.
For him, there was no urge for closure. That meant saying goodbye to them, and he didn’t want that. He wanted to keep his fantasies and what ifs. What if they had lived? What would they have been like, what would they have looked like? Would they have red hair like his, or dark like Riyah’s? Would they be witches, too? Would they inherit his and Riyah’s power? He imagined them red-haired with their mother’s dark freckles. What color would their dragons have been? Shit. Their dragons had killed them. He shouldn’t even think of that half of them. He should hate that part of them. The monsters in them had Changed in Riyah’s stomach, and neither twin had made it.
And now Vyr’s dragon would kill him.
Riyah was slipping. The veil between them was thin now, and he could see in her mind for a split second at a time when he touched her. When he’d kissed her palm and held it, he’d seen it. A vision of her standing on the ground below his dragon, her hands outstretched, anguish in her eyes, her hair wild in the wind, power pulsing from her fingertips right at him.
It wasn’t Torren who would save the world from him. It was Riyah.
Strong mate.
He clenched his hands behind his back as the dragon clawed at his skin. Just look at the little stones. Say hello to them. Talk to them.
Vyr gritted his teeth and forced one step and then another. The dragon was revolting inside of him, and every cell in his body was burning, but fuck it. Riyah said she came here when she was sick from pain. Maybe, just maybe, this place could help him heal too.
Why did it still feel like a hundred miles? He could see the stones so clearly, poking out from the new snow. Riyah had buried the twins between two oak trees that had been planted in their honor. She had placed a wooden bench beside them.
The wind kicked up. It wasn’t natural, wasn’t another cold front blowing in, wasn’t a storm on the horizon. It was Vyr. He couldn’t control his power sometimes. Not anymore. The more the dragon spiraled, the more his powers grew. Snow parted in a straight line to the little headstones.
Barely audible over the wailing of the wind, he whispered, “I don’t want to do this.”
****
I don’t want to do this.
Riyah gasped and sat straight up in bed. Her body was wracked with chills, and she was drenched in sweat. Was she going to get sick? Everything around her was blurry, so she blinked hard. It smelled like the bedroom, but something was pelting her in the face. Snow?
“Vyr?” she asked to no answer.
Riyah stumbled out of bed, but she couldn’t see the floor. Her feet landed in snow, one in front of the other, but when she looked down, they weren’t her feet. They were Vyr’s thick-soled boots with the scuff on the right toe. In front of her, the snow blasted outward, leaving a trail that lead to the boys.
Vyr? she thought, but he still didn’t answer. He was staring straight ahead as he walked through her orchard. What was happening?
She tried to shut the wall between them, but it was stuck. No, not stuck. It was as if his power was prying it open. The air moved around him, like waves of heat on a summer day in the desert. She was burning up. Her skin was hot, and the pain was almost unbearable.
She couldn’t see the bedroom, only the orchard. Feeling around the room blindly, her hands found nothing but air. Terrified, she screamed out, “Nox!” She didn’t know why he was the one she called and not the girls or Torren. It just tumbled out of her mouth, the name of the least reliable of the Crew.
Three more steps through the parted snow. The drifts had piled up to the side, guiding her in a straight line to them…the boys. Her babies. Three steps, one, two, three, and then hands were on her.
“Shit!” Nox yelped, flinching away. “Riyah, your skin is burning. Torren!” he yelled.
The waves of heat melted the snow beside her, turning the earth to mud in moments.
I don’t want to do this,” Vyr whispered again.
“Do what?” Nox asked. “Riyah! Do what?”
Had she spoken Vyr’s words? Where was she? In the room still?
“Nox,” she whispered raggedly. “Help him.”
“Where?” Nox yelled.
“The orchard.”
“Shhhhit.”
“Let’s take my truck.” Torren’s voice. “She needs to come with us.”
“Well, she’s fuckin’ floating in the air like we need to exorcise a demon and I can’t fuckin’ touch her. Her skin feels like an oven.”
“Hurts,” she whispered.
“You break his bedroom window, Vyr’s gonna kill you,” Torren growled.
The sound of shattering glass was deafening. Nox wasn’t the one to spout rules to.
She took three more steps toward the little gravesto
nes, but her body was suddenly hurled to the side. Then there was relief.
She was on her hands and knees in the orchard now, a deep rumble vibrating through her. She could feel the power of the Red Dragon surging through her. Feel the witch’s magic pulsing darkly. She looked up at the winter-bare fruit trees in the orchard, but their limbs were sagging and catching fire at the tips.
I don’t want to do this.
“Pack the snow against her skin,” Nox murmured.
“You’re burned,” Torren said.
“It’ll heal. Just pack her with snow, and we’ll put her in the back of the truck. There’s no time! Look at the smoke. He’s gonna torch the orchard.”
Torren muttered a curse.
“Help him,” Riyah pleaded. Because she could feel the agony now. The veil between them was burned to ashes, and she could feel his heartbreak. It was just as potent as her own.
I don’t want to do this.
And everything in her wanted to tell him, “Then don’t. Come home to me.” But what would that solve? Whatever the consequences, the Red Dragon needed to accept the loss of his offspring, and Vyr needed to mourn the passing of his sons.
Like she had. Pay homage to their too-short lives and honor them by remembering them for always. He would keep their ghosts here, haunting the orchard, if he didn’t let them go, but they deserved better. He did, too.
In the orchard, she stood and walked through the waves of heat until the toes of her boots were just feet away from the little graves.
The slamming of truck doors sounded, then a barked order from Nox. “Cut through the woods. No time to get to the main road.”
The relief on her skin was fading, replaced by blistering heat again. Was this what it was like for Vyr? Every Change burned like he was standing in a fire? How could he endure this?
She was clenching her teeth, trying not to cry out.
There was no more snow that she could see. It was all melted. She fell to her knees in the mud. I wanted to save you, Vyr said in her mind. I’m your father, and it was my job to keep you safe. To keep your mother safe. But I put dragons in you instead. His voice sounded so thick, so heartbroken. I’m sorry.