by Kayla Wolf
Maybe it wasn’t a question of keeping the coyotes out. Maybe he should focus on making them wary of making an attack. He’d patrol the walls, as Charles had suggested—try to keep his patterns as erratic as possible so they couldn’t predict gaps in his patrols. That was something he could do, at least—patrolling the walls might make him feel a little less useless.
Because he had to admit—he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing there. It felt a lot like treading water, no matter how kindly Charles had asked him to stay. What could he really do to help Quinn and her father? He could keep an eye out for the coyotes, help them fight if it came to that… but he wasn’t a fighter, not really, not any more—and not in his heart of hearts. He was a scholar, an academic, a sky-starer. His father could have helped, he thought grimly. If only he was a little more like him, maybe they wouldn’t be in this mess. William probably would have killed that coyote, he reflected, instead of letting him run off home to share everything he’d learned about the farm with his allies. But if he was more like his father, Quinn… well, she’d still have kicked him out of the house, he thought with a rueful twist of his mouth, so what difference would it have made? Was it a pointless exercise, trying to be better than his father, trying to make his own decisions in the world? So far, it had brought him nothing but pain and loneliness.
David shook himself. The sun was getting low in the sky—it was late afternoon, and he’d made a few laps of the outer walls without even realizing it. His skin was hot to the touch, and he realized with dismay that he was probably sunburned. Well, at least he’d have something to keep him warm that night. At a loss for what to do, he searched back through his memory, trying to remember what his father had taught him—so many years ago—about fighting. And on a clear, rocky patch of land, he started running the drills he remembered from his combat training. It had been a long time ago, and he hadn’t had much time for it—martial arts were all very well, but what he was really interested in was sparring, and training on his own always felt pointless.
It was surprising how the muscle memory came back to him without too much effort. Each move seemed to connect seamlessly to the one before, and once he’d remembered a few sequences, the rest seemed to come to him faster and faster. He must have paid more attention than he’d thought, he realized with a combination of amusement and pleasure, moving faster and faster through the sequence of movements as the sunset painted the desert red. It was beautiful out here—the heat of the day beginning to ease, the quiet of the desert his only companion as he half-moved, half-danced through the sequence. It was exhausting, and he was rusty—by the end of the drills, he was breathing hard, but he felt connected to his body in a way that he hadn’t for years. Maybe William had been right—there was something to this style of training.
Breathing hard, he headed inside the walls. There was a nice spot by the lake that he’d staked out as a likely spot to sleep. Sheltered from the wind by a huge tree, close enough to the lake shore that there was an unobstructed view of the sky. He wondered as he washed his face, whether Charles had talked to Quinn yet, told him that he’d asked him to stay around. Would she be angry? He felt worry pool in his stomach. The last thing he wanted was to cause her any more distress than he already had. But he had to be here. If there was an attack, he’d never forgive himself if he was too far away to do anything. The least he could do was protect her—and he resolved to make sure he avoided her as much as possible, as desperately as he wanted to see her face again. Seeing her wasn’t worth the joy it would bring him if it caused her pain.
He settled down with his back to a tree as the last of the light drained from the sky. The stars were beautiful out here—it was a clear night, and he could make out every detail of the blanket of stars before him. The moon, waxing gibbous, gleamed above him, and he traced familiar constellations with his eyes, smiling with recognition. His heart still ached furiously, of course, but looking at the stars had always made him feel better, ever since he was a child.
“What am I meant to do?” he murmured, feeling a little silly to be addressing the sky. “How am I meant to help these guys?”
There was no answer, of course. Just the stars—his eyes settled on one that seemed to be twinkling a little more than the others, and for no reason at all he remembered the day he’d met the Oracle. The blazing map she’d shown him, the vast web of stars… and the blinking blue-gray point that had represented Quinn. He hadn’t even known who she was back then, but he’d reached out regardless, marked the point as his own without even thinking about it. He’d had no idea of how much damage he was going to cause, of the pain he’d inflict on her by marking her like that. The way she’d looked at him, he thought, feeling his chest ache. Whatever he’d done, it had had some kind of effect—it had combined their destinies, he was sure of that much. She cared about him like he cared about her. That was why it had hurt so much.
”How can I undo that?” he asked the stars in a low whisper. “How can I fix this?” All he wanted was to undo the pain he’d caused her. He’d already resigned himself to a lifetime of misery—but he didn’t want that for Quinn. She deserved so much better than that. She deserved the world.
Once this conflict with the coyotes was sorted, he’d fly back to Colorado, he decided, his jaw tense. He’d have whatever conversation he needed to have with his father—even if it involved getting the king involved, even if it involved trial by combat. Whatever it took, he was going to confront William over what he’d done, over the land he’d stolen from these dragons. He’d ensure it was put back into the hands it rightfully belonged in. And he’d go… somewhere. He wasn’t sure where. Quinn wouldn’t want him around, surely—all he would be was a reminder of the pain he’d caused her, the damage he’d done, the century of exile that his family had inflicted on her and her father.
Well, it didn’t matter where he went, did it? So long as this injustice was righted—so long as Quinn and her father were returned to their ancestral family home. Maybe he’d just go travelling, he thought with a smile. He could go in search of his mother. He’d often though about that, in the long years down in the cabin. Well, nothing was stopping him now.
His eyes dropped down to the lake. Knowing what he knew about it now made the waters seem more important, more sacred. Somewhere in the depths of that lake lay a stone the size of a fist, a magically imbued stone. A stone that the coyotes wanted to steal for themselves. Or did they? Perhaps it was just the land that they wanted back. Was diplomacy possible, he wondered? Was there some sort of bargain that could be struck?
He felt a sudden urge to talk to someone—someone other than the distant stars, of course. And he almost struck himself in the forehead with exasperation when he remembered that that was an option. He’d charged the phone Amara had given him in the guest room the day before—he’d felt rather proud of himself for remembering how to plug the wire into the wall and then into the phone. He was getting good at technology. He fumbled the phone out of his bag, pressing the button and finding to his delight that it was still almost full of battery. That meant he could call Amara, ask her advice. After all, if anyone had been through some thorny romantic experiences, it was Amara. At least David was only contending with one woman. The very thought of trying to woo four Quinns made him feel like collapsing with exhaustion.
He scrolled through the phone, impatient with his slow, clumsy fingers, but before too long he’d managed to call her, holding the rectangle to his ear. It was properly dark by the lake now, and he shivered a little as the cold desert air blew past him. He grabbed the sleeping back and unzipped it, tucking it around his shoulders like a blanket. It was a good sleeping bag, he noticed, warming up almost immediately, and he felt a burst of gratitude to Charles for keeping care of him. If it had been up to David, he’d be sleeping out here with nothing but the clothes on his back. He couldn’t do much to protect Quinn from coyotes if he froze to death, now could he? He supposed he could sleep in his dragon form, but there wasn’t a lo
t of space out here, and besides, he’d never slept very well as a dragon. He liked sleeping on his side, and the wings got in the way.
”David?”
”Amara,” he said, so grateful to hear her voice that he felt tears begin to threaten. “God, it’s good to hear your voice.”
”What’s up? You sound—is everything okay?”
”Not really,” he said, resisting a strange urge to laugh. “It’s all a lot more complicated than I thought it was going to be.”
”Yeah, that’s actually not surprising,” Amara said. “I went back to visit with the Oracle, and she told me a bunch of… well, honestly it wasn’t super helpful, but I bet we can figure it out together.”
David couldn’t help but laugh, thinking of his own experience with Hera. “Yeah, I wish she’d been a bit clearer with me. For someone who can see the future, she was super vague about everything.”
”Tell me what’s going on. I’m not used to hearing you sound so sad.”
He took a deep breath. “Well, the good news is, I’m pretty sure I met my soulmate. The bad news is, she hates me, and I wish we’d never met because all I’ve done so far is cause her pain.”
“Hmm.” He could almost hear Amara thinking. “You’ve met your soulmate.”
”I think so,” he said simply. “I’ve been trying so hard to come up with any other explanation, but…”
”When you know, you know,” Amara said simply. “Yeah. Sorry, David. It sounds like she’s it.”
He shut his eyes for a moment. “Well, that sucks.”
”Why does she hate you? What could you have done?”
”Not me. My father.” David heaved a sigh, shifting his eyes up to the stars again for the calm he needed. “Quinn and her father only live down here because a hundred years ago, my father forged documents and stole their home from them. They used to live in the valley with us. Their land, the land William stole—it’s the patch he gave to me, to build a home on. And Quinn didn’t realize, until after we’d…”
He could hear Amara sigh. “That’s—that’s really hard, David. I’m sorry.” She hesitated. “But it’s not like you were to blame. Not to pry about your age or anything, but were you even born when it happened?”
”I was a kid,” he admitted. “I barely remember any of it. From what I can tell, neither does she… which hasn’t stopped her from being furious about it. All she wants is to go back home.”
“And you love her?”
He shut his eyes. “Yeah. Is that—irrational? I only met her a few days ago—”
”That’s soulmates, babe. That’s how it works.” Amara sounded full of determination. It was oddly inspiring. “What your dad did is terrible, and it’s clearly done her a lot of damage, fine. But it’s not your fault, David. She can’t hold it against you forever. You have to help her fix it—help her get her home back, help her beat your dad. If she’s your soulmate—and I think she is, because you’re not stupid—she’s going to figure out that you’re on her side.”
David couldn’t help laughing. “I’m so glad that you think I’m not stupid.”
”A great compliment,” Amara said archly. “Maybe that’s what the Oracle was referring to. She said there’s going to be some huge battle soon. Like, the next few days. Are they planning on going back to Colorado soon?”
”No,” David said, suddenly alarmed. “She said there’s going to be a battle?”
”Yeah. Not a fight, a battle—those exact words. Like—armies and stuff. It sounded serious.”
”I think I know what that is,” David said softly, feeling all his worry resurface. “There’s a pack of coyote shifters down here who have designs on the place. They want it for their own—or they want it back, or something, I don’t know. Charles has been afraid they’re going to attack.”
”Coyotes.” Amara sounded worried. “I’ve heard about those guys. Cole said they fight like wolves, but they’re quicker. How many of you are there?”
”Three.”
”Not enough.” He heard rustling on the other end, as though Amara had stood up abruptly. “You’re going to need backup. And soon. Can you send me your coordinates?”
”I don’t think so.”
”I’m going to get Luke, and he’s going to talk you through it, and we’re going to come down as soon as we can, okay?”
”It might not even happen,” David protested.
”No. David—Hera showed me some stuff. It looked bad. I saw—” He could hear her hesitate. “Listen, I wasn’t going to tell you this, but… I saw you, lying in the sand, covered in blood.”
”You did?”
”Yeah. So—so I’m going to come down, okay? And I’m going to bring my guys, and all of us are going to beat these coyotes down, okay?”
”Okay,” David said. “Thanks, I—”
But she was already gone—he heard her voice in the background, calling out to her mates, already setting plans in motion. Before long Luke was on the line, very patiently talking him through the process of identifying his location on a map—he hadn’t even realized the phone was capable of doing that.
”See you soon, buddy,” the bear said cheerfully as they hung up, and David was left alone again, staring down at the phone in his hand with his heart pounding. The Oracle had foreseen a great battle—and by this point, he’d had too many confirmations of her accuracy to doubt the veracity of that prophecy. He had to tell Charles—they had to be ready. And if he wound up in the sand, covered in blood like Amara had said… well, that was a small price to pay for Quinn’s safety.
And at the very least, even if the rest of his life was absolute chaos, it felt good to know that backup was on the way.
Chapter 14 – Quinn
The next few days dragged intolerably. Knowing that they were potentially about to be attacked by an angry pack of coyotes made farm work feel oddly tense, and Quinn returned to her chores without much of her usual enthusiasm for the work. If they were going to leave, she thought as she carefully tended the zucchini plants, what was the point of working so hard to make this place productive? She supposed there was always the possibility that they wouldn’t be able to go back home—that the new king wouldn’t agree that they had a right to the land, that they’d be forced to turn around and come back here. Her father didn’t want to start again, and who could blame him?
Quinn could. A part of her wanted to just up and leave—to pack what they had then throw themselves on the mercy of the dragons up in Colorado. But she knew it was dangerous to move the stone, their family artefact, without having a safe place to store it once they arrived. And they couldn’t leave it here—the coyotes might get their paws on it, and that would be catastrophic. She felt stuck and furious, and if she was honest with herself, a little frightened about the prospect of going to war with a whole pack of coyotes. She talked a big game about being a fighter, and she knew that she was a pretty deadly creature in her dragon form, but she hadn’t exactly had much experience.
So she started spending her afternoons in dragon shape, out in the desert, practicing. Funny, how rusty this old body felt now that she’d spent so long in her human form. Dragons were born in their winged, clawed bodies, and during their youth learned how to transform—but still, she’d been human long enough that her wings almost felt unfamiliar. It didn’t take long to get familiar again, though. She even caught her father doing the same thing, once or twice—she saw him circling the farm, his huge wings spread to catch the sunlight. It was a shame it was too dangerous to spend much time in these forms for fear of human discovery, she thought. There was something almost childlike about the way her father dipped and soared through the air—a kind of joy in his movements that she wasn’t used to seeing in him.
When they moved back home, she decided grimly. When they moved back home, everything would be different. They’d be able to spend more time in their true bodies. Everything would be better in Colorado. It was just a question of getting there.
She almost
wished the coyotes would attack already. If there was going to be a battle, better that it’d happen soon, so they could get it out of the way. Once the coyotes had been vanquished, they could afford to go on a quick trip up north to find out whether there was a home for them in the valley—or whether they’d need to take it by force. It was the not knowing that was frustrating—would the coyotes attack them? Or would there just be this interminable sense of siege for weeks or months?
The sense of frustration was only made worse by the fact that David was still around. She’d reluctantly agreed to let him stay—a moment of weakness, she maintained irritably, blatant manipulation from her father—but it didn’t mean she had to be happy about seeing him. He was always moping around, patrolling the walls, doing some kind of stupid martial arts training with his shirt off… not that she’d looked very closely from her vantage point in the trees where he couldn’t see her. Anyway, what was the harm? So what if she checked him out a bit? He was physically attractive, that was all. He was a terrible person and the son of her sworn enemy, of course, but… damnit, she couldn’t fight the fact that he was incredibly hot. Her mind kept going back to the way he’d fought Caleb to defend her, to the way his body had moved… frustrating beyond belief. The power in his body, the surprising volatility and strength he hid behind that quiet, stoic exterior…
She was finding it surprisingly difficult to hold onto her anger with him, too. It was annoying to realize how much of what her father had said made sense, and she was fighting it with everything she had. True, David was not his father. True, David hadn’t realized that his father was the reason they were stuck down here in the middle of the desert. True, David had in all respects been a pretty decent person. But it was the principle of the thing, she kept thinking irritably, anger burning in her chest like a fire. His family had ruined her life. Was she supposed to just shrug at that, to let it go? Just because he happened to be—good, and kind, and sweet to her, and really quite good in bed in a way that was occasionally making it difficult for her to get to sleep at night?