Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

U tter shock clangs inside my skull as I watch his severed hand fall to the floor. It lands with a thud, which is drowned out by the metallic clattering as the sword hits the pale wooden floorboards. And by the scream that comes out of his throat too, of course.

A grunt sounds from right next to me.

I flinch as blood splatters my left cheek.

The hands gripping my arms disappear as Silver Hair yells something while whirling around towards the other brown-haired shifter who was standing on my left. His quick movements as he releases my arms while turning makes me spin in that direction as well.

My eyes widen as I come face to face with the brown-haired shifter. His mouth is open in shock. And a sword sticks out of his throat.

A wet sliding sound fills the single second of dead silence as it’s yanked back out. The shifter collapses to the ground right before my feet. I stare down at him while Orange Eyes continues screaming his lungs out and clutching his severed wrist.

In the brief pauses between his screaming, I hear a whooshing sound. While I’m still staring dumbfounded down at the dead man before me, a head thuds down on the floor beside him. Not a body. Just a head. The head of a male shifter with silver hair.

Then the body hits.

And more screaming starts.

I drag my gaze back up to the source of all this carnage.

The Shadow of Death stands there before me, his massive black wings spread wide and his sword stained with blood. His golden eyes burn with such fury and vengeance that it stops my heart for a second. But he’s not looking at me.

Dark clouds gather around him and white lightning crackles down his arms as he shifts his gaze between my two remaining assailants.

Blondie cuts and runs towards the door.

Orange Eyes drops to his knees.

With barely more than a glance, Draven yanks out a knife from his thigh holster and throws it at Blondie. It hits him straight through the back of his neck. A gurgle sounds. Then he crashes to the ground, his body spasming.

Draven slides his gaze to my face.

I suck in a sharp breath at the furious intensity of his stare.

Then he sees the blood splattered across my cheek, and his expression darkens into death itself. The storm clouds whip around him like thrashing snakes, and lightning cracks into the floor.

“Please,” Orange Eyes begs on the ground, still desperately clutching his bleeding stump. “Please, don’t?—”

Draven cuts his head off.

It hits the floor with a wet thud and rolls halfway before it comes to a halt next to Silver Hair’s severed head. His body tips forward and crashes down as well. The dark clouds disappear and the lightning stops.

Then everything is dead silent.

My heart pounds as I just stand there on the blood-soaked floor and stare at Draven. Across the room, the fire in the hearth still burns brightly, casting dancing light across the pale wooden walls.

In one fluid motion, Draven wipes the blood off his sword and slams it back into its sheath while he closes the distance between us.

I tense up, bracing myself for… For what? For him to grab me and handcuff me? For him to yell at me? For him to threaten me and demand to know what the hell I’m doing here?

He does none of those things.

Instead, he cups my cheeks with such heartbreaking gentleness that I almost sob.

Turning my head from side to side, he studies my face with those intense eyes of his. “Are you hurt?”

Out of all the things I had expected him to say, that hadn’t even been on the list. I thought he would be furious. Instead, he’s asking if I’m hurt.

“Selena, look at me.” Worry pulses in his eyes as he wipes something off my cheek. “Are you hurt?”

I blink again, still trying to wrap my head around this whole situation. And then I finally remember that there was blood splattered across my face. Draven is still cupping my cheeks, but I shake my head as best as I can.

“No,” I finally reply. “The blood wasn’t mine.”

Relief washes over his features. For another few seconds, he just holds me like that. Then he drags in a breath and lets his hands drop from my cheeks. Taking a step back, he gives his head a quick shake as if to clear it.

“We need to go,” he says as he strides over to Blondie’s corpse and yanks his knife out of the guy’s neck. After wiping off the blade and sticking it back in his thigh holster, he turns back to me. “Now.”

Pulling myself out of my stunned stupor, I give my own head a few quick shakes to clear it as well and then hurry across the floor towards where Draven is. He sweeps his gaze around the room one more time, presumably to check that no one witnessed what he did, and then he stalks out onto the street. I follow him.

But instead of continuing away from the tavern, he comes to a halt right outside on the street. It’s so sudden that I slam right into him after exiting the tavern.

His hands shoot out and grab my arms to steady me. I quickly pull my arms out of his grip and take a step back. But I’m only met by an unreadable expression when I tilt my head back and look up at him again.

“Do you trust me?” he asks.

The question catches me completely off guard, and I shock myself by replying, “Yes.”

That blank mask on his face cracks for the briefest of moments as shock pulses across his features as well. Then he wipes the expression off his face and instead crouches down.

My heart flips as he slides one arm behind my knees and the other behind my back. Heat creeps into my cheeks as he lifts me into his arms as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

I open my mouth to ask what in Mabona’s name he’s doing.

But only a gasp makes it out as he flaps his wings and launches into the air.

My stomach lurches as we shoot up from the ground. Throwing my arms around his neck, I grip him tightly and squeeze my eyes shut as the city grows smaller beneath us.

A soft laugh rolls from his chest. “Afraid of heights?”

With great effort, I pry my eyes open again. Winds rush around us, tugging at my cloak and my hair as Draven flies us even higher. Light from the bright moon casts silver highlights in his black hair.

I shoot him a glare and try to sound convincing as I reply, “No. I got over all of that when I spent hours being flown here from the Seelie Court by dragons who gripped me with their talons.”

A smirk plays over Draven’s lips. “Is that right?”

“Yes, and you?—”

My retort is cut off when I suck in a sharp breath between my teeth as Draven abruptly flaps his wings hard, bringing us even higher. I tighten my arms around his neck and press my cheek against his shoulder while squeezing my eyes shut again.

Draven chuckles. “You were saying?”

“Bastard,” I mutter against his neck before forcing myself to raise my head and open my eyes again. When I do, I find him smirking at me.

His eyes glitter in the moonlight as he arches a dark brow at me. “Do you really think that insulting me is your best move here, little rebel?”

I give him a pointed look back. “I thought we had already established that being snarky and disrespectful is my natural state.”

A short laugh escapes his lips, and he shakes his head at me.

Winds wash over us as he flies us towards the gleaming ice castle on the mountain slope. I keep my arms around his neck, but his own arms are so steady underneath me that I finally dare to look at the landscape around us.

A strange sense of freedom and peace flows through my veins as I gaze out at the moonlit plains that stretch out around the city. Up here, it feels as if I have the entire world at my feet. As if anything is possible. Lakes shine like pools of silver in the moonlight, and distant forests look like dark pillows in the grassland. Countless stars sparkle above us like silver dust.

The horizon feels endless. As if I could just fly straight for it and disappear from all of the pain and struggle and danger that has surrounded me every day of my life.

Tearing my gaze from the horizon, I shift it back to Draven.

My heart almost leaps out of my chest when I find him studying me.

Then it starts thumping hard when I see the look in his eyes. He is watching me as if I am the only thing in this world. As if the stunning landscape around us pales in comparison to my face. As if he could spend his entire life watching the expression on my face when I marvel at the world around us.

And the sight of it makes my heart tighten and my lungs stop.

The way he is looking at me is implying too many things. Things I can’t dare to let myself consider.

So I drag in a strangled breath and blurt out something that I know will ruin the moment. “Why aren’t you angry with me? I tried to escape from you and almost got myself killed in the process. Why aren’t you angry?”

Just as I thought, that incredible look on his face disappears in a heartbeat. And instead, some of that fire from before returns to his eyes as he locks them on mine.

“Oh I am angry,” he replies, his voice now filled with steel. “I’m just saving it for when we’re behind closed doors.”

My answer is cut off by a gasp as Draven suddenly dives downwards. My stomach lurches as we speed down through the air. I squeeze my eyes shut again and my arms tighten around him.

But just as abruptly as it began, the downward plummet stops. And so does the beating of his wings.

Prying my eyes open, I find us standing on the balcony to Draven’s rooms. Or rather, Draven standing on it while he still holds me in his arms. I swallow as he stalks in through the door and then sets me down on the living room floor.

I’m still breathless from the sudden dive, so I take a few seconds to drag air into my lungs while Draven shuts the balcony door behind us. While he locks it as well, I turn on the faelights so that we can see better and then take off my cloak and toss it across the back of the sofa. Then I run my fingers through my windblown hair a couple of times.

Draven straightens by the door.

“Now…” he begins.

And his whole demeanor changes in the span of a second. Gone is that wonderful look from when he watched me gaze at the landscape. The man who turns to face me now is not an ordinary dragon shifter. It’s the Shadow of Death. The Commander of the Dread Legion. A man who gives orders and expects them to be obeyed.

Drawing himself up to his full height, he crosses his muscular arms over his broad chest and levels a commanding stare on me.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he demands.

His presumptuous tone, as if he’s speaking to some fresh recruit that he commands, immediately sets my teeth on edge.

“We had a deal,” he continues, his voice hard. Uncrossing his arms, he motions at the living room around us. “In here, you can do whatever the hell you want.” He shifts his hand and stabs it towards the door. “But out in public, you need to?—”

“Act as if I’m your slave,” I snap, interrupting him. “I know.”

“Clearly you don’t.”

Since I can’t tell him what I was really doing out there, I need to make him think that I was only trying to escape. So I throw my arms out in frustration and raise my voice. “What did you expect? Huh? That I would just stay here like your slave forever? That I would never try to escape?”

“I expected you to use your head!”

That stuns me enough that I just draw back and blink at him. He forces out a frustrated breath and stalks forward, closing the distance between us. The soft faelights gleam against the white ice walls, creating a surreal calm around us while everything inside me feels like it’s a thrashing stormy sea. My heart pounds so hard that I can hear it in my ears.

Draven comes to a halt in front of me, barely a step away. Taking my chin in a firm grip, he tilts my head back so that I meet his gaze. His eyes are hard as steel as he locks them on me.

“I expected you to use your head,” he repeats. “You’re smart. Way smarter than most people give you credit for.”

“How would you know?” I slap his hand away from my chin. “You don’t even know me.”

For a moment, I swear I see a flicker of hurt in his eyes. But then he just arches an eyebrow at me. “I watched you win the Atonement Trials. Remember?” Holding my gaze, he shakes his head as if in disbelief. “A tournament that, in terms of just pure magic type, you shouldn’t even have made it past the first power demonstration. But because you’re so damn smart and sneaky and cunning, you managed to win the whole bloody thing. Even despite all of my interference.”

I know that we’re fighting, and I know that he’s angry, but his unexpected praise hits something deep inside my chest. Something that makes it hard to breathe. Because everyone else only sees the pathetic girl with weak and untrustworthy emotion magic who is desperate to be liked. But Draven… he sees that instead.

He reaches for my chin again, but then changes his mind halfway up and just lets his arm drop again. Flexing his hand, he drags in a long breath through his nose.

“So I expected you to use that brilliant mind of yours,” he continues, pushing our argument back on track again. “What were you planning to do? Huh? Walk back to the Seelie Court? Do you even know where it is? Or how to get there? And how were you even going to get out of the city? The Silver Clan guards every road out of here. And they patrol the skies around the city too. You wouldn’t even have made it a hundred yards out onto the plains before they spotted you.”

Since I can’t tell him that I wasn’t really trying to escape, I just cross my arms and glare up at him in angry silence.

He forces out a breath and rakes his hands through his hair before once again shaking his head at me. “Azaroth’s flame, you could have been killed.”

“I know.”

“Do you? What would you have done if I hadn’t shown up right at that moment?”

“I…” I begin but then trail off as a sudden thought blows through my mind. Narrowing my eyes, I study Draven with a suspicious gaze. “Speaking of… How did you find me?”

He opens his mouth but then just frowns instead. Drawing his eyebrows down, he levels a scowl at me. But he looks distinctly uncomfortable.

“I just happened to be passing by and heard the ruckus,” he tries to say convincingly before quickly adding, “But that’s not the point. The point is?—”

“No,” I interrupt. Uncrossing my arms, I stab two fingers against his chest while annoyance and dread and anticipation all twist inside my chest like snakes. My heart is suddenly pounding again. “Don’t try to change the subject. How did you find me?”

“I’ve already told you. I heard the fight.”

“Don’t give me that fucking excuse again!” I stab my fingers against his muscular chest once more while I level a searing gaze on him. “How did you know that I was in danger and where to find me?”

Reaching up, he wraps a strong hand around my wrist and yanks my hand down from his chest. “This conversation is over.”

“No, it’s not. This is the third time now. First, you saved me when Jeb and Tommen attacked me in my room during the Atonement Trials. Then, you saved me again when I was about to be killed by a wolfbear out in the thorn forest. And now, right when I was about to get killed by a group of dragon shifters, you magically show up again.” I hold his gaze with dead serious eyes. “How did you know that I was in danger and where to find me?”

He releases my wrist and starts stalking away towards his bedroom.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me!” I scream at his back.

He just keeps walking.

“How did you find me?” I yell again.

He flexes his hand as he stalks away.

A snarl rips from my throat. Lurching forward, I close the short distance between us again and grab his arm. With all my strength, I yank on it, spinning him back around to face me.

“How did you know that I was in danger?” I shout at him again. “How did you know where I was?”

“Because you’re my mate!”

I jerk back as if his words had been a physical hit. Releasing his arm, I stagger a step back while the air seems to freeze in my lungs. My head is ringing. And everything else is unnaturally silent.

Draven stands there just one step in front of me. His chest heaves as if he has sprinted across half the continent. And the utter desperation on his face as he looks at me strangles what little air I had left in my lungs.

“What?” is all that makes it out of my mouth. It’s barely more than a broken whisper.

“You’re my mate.” Draven drags in an unsteady breath and then slowly shakes his head. “When Jeb and Tommen attacked you, when the wolfbear attacked you, when those four assholes attacked you tonight… I could feel your fear.”

“You can feel my emotions?”

“No, I can’t feel all your emotions. I can’t even feel all your fear. Right now, I can only feel the strongest of your emotions. Which is the sheer undiluted terror that comes when you’re about to die.”

My heart is beating so hard that I can barely even hear Draven over the loud pounding in my ears.

“That’s how I knew you were in danger,” he continues. “And where to find you.”

I stare back at him. I can’t remember if I have been breathing, so I drag in a deep breath. Apparently, I hadn’t breathed in a while because my lungs expand in relief. I force in another breath while the massive bells inside my skull continue clanging.

“Because I’m your mate,” I finish for him, the words coming out in a strangled whisper.

That pain and desperation flicker across Draven’s face for a moment. Then he repeats, so softly that my heart aches, “Because you’re my mate.”

Staggering another step back, I grip the dark grey armchair next to me for support. My fingers dig into the soft cushion as I force air into my lungs while my mind keeps spinning.

I know about the concept of fated mates. Two people who are destined to be with each other and who share a deeper connection than just normal love. Two souls drawn to each other in some epic bond. While I have never actually talked to a fae who has found their fated mate, both our race and dragon shifters have them. Though they’re much more common among the dragon shifters. And I had no idea that a cross-species connection was even possible.

And most importantly, I hate the concept of fated mates. Free will is too important to me. I hate the thought of someone else, some other power out in the universe, deciding who I can and can’t love.

“No,” I blurt out. It comes out as a desperate sob. “I’m not your mate! I don’t want to be your mate!”

Pure hurt pulses across Draven’s face. He swallows but says nothing.

And part of me knows that I should feel bad about that. Part of me knows that what I just said was cruel. But that part of me is currently suffocating underneath a tidal wave of utter panic and devastation.

All my life, I have lived by someone else’s rules. I have never had any freedom. For anything. I haven’t been allowed to choose my job or my clothes or where to live or even when to eat. Everything has been controlled by someone else. So the thought that someone else, some mystical power, has chosen who I’m supposed to love threatens to destroy me.

I can’t breathe. I want to rip my heart out of my chest. I want to bawl my eyes out.

After an entire lifetime of having no choices, no say in my own life, the knowledge that even my ability to choose who to love has been taken from me is going to break me.

“How did…” I begin.

But then I trail off as a realization, a horrifying realization, crackles through my whole body like a vicious lightning bolt. It’s so intense that I think I gasp. Gripping the back of the armchair harder, I try to steady myself as I force in a deep breath and then drag my gaze back to Draven.

“Is that why you tried to stop me from winning the Atonement Trials?” I breathe, my eyes wide as I stare at him. “Is that why you tried to save me from this fate? Because I’m your mate?”

Draven opens his mouth to reply, but then he appears to change his mind and instead just shifts his weight awkwardly and glances away. Which I suppose is answer enough.

Something between a sob and a broken laugh rips from my throat.

All this time, I actually thought that he had tried to save me from this fate because he genuinely cared about me. Because he saw something in me. Because he got to know me during the Atonement Trials and began to like me for who I was. Began to like me because he saw who I really am. Saw the parts of me that no one else ever does. And liked it.

But instead… Instead, he only tried to save me because this damn mate bond between us was forcing his instincts to protect me.

Something small and very fragile inside my chest just… cracks.

And the pain of it is so intense that I have to bend over and brace one hand on my thigh as I drag in a shuddering breath. Prying my other hand off the armchair, I press it over my heart and grip my shirt hard. But it does nothing to stem the pain that bleeds from that fragile shattered piece inside me.

I thought that I had finally met someone who genuinely saw me and understood me and wanted to be close to me instead of keeping me at arm’s length because of my magic type. But now I will never know what Draven and I might have been to each other. What we might have felt about each other on our own. Because the fucking universe has already decided for us what we should feel.

“Selena,” Draven whispers, and his hand brushes against my arm so gently that I almost start crying.

Instead, I pull anger around me like a shield as I straighten and slap his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

Hurt pulses in his eyes again, but he lets his hand drop. And he says nothing.

Shaking my head, I start backing towards my bedroom. “I will sleep in this room tonight.”

“Don’t,” he begins, desperation lacing his voice.

That utter desperation shocks me enough that I hesitate. Which only makes me even more angry, so I end up snapping, “You’re going to force me to sleep in your bed? Because I’m your mate and that means I belong to you?”

He rocks back slightly as if I had slapped him.

Regret and guilt worm their way through my chest. I stamp them out.

Draven swallows and then draws in a breath as if bracing himself. “No, I’m not. I’m asking you to sleep in my bed.”

“Why?”

“Because I felt your fear. I felt every second of your heart-wrenching terror when you thought you were going to die, and I just… I just need to know that you’re safe.” Desperation shines in his eyes as he holds my gaze. “Please.”

My heart squeezes hard.

And deep down, I know that I’m being cruel and utterly unfair. I know that I’m taking my pain and anger out on the wrong person. After all, it’s not Draven’s fault that I’m his mate. He had as little choice in this as I did.

So in the end, I find myself whispering, “Okay.”

Relief washes over his features, and he gives me a small nod. Then he disappears into his bedroom without another word.

After I have gotten ready for the night and put on that short black nightgown, I slip into Draven’s room.

Part of me is hoping that he has already fallen asleep. But the moment I step across the threshold, his intense eyes immediately lock on me. As if he was worried that I was going to go back on my word and sleep in the other room anyway.

Pushing the dark gray cover aside, I climb into bed and roll over on my side so that my back is to Draven. He says nothing. Neither do I.

Oppressive silence hangs over the entire room.

Just like every night, Draven has shifted into his fully human form and sleeps only on his side of the bed while I remain firmly on mine. But tonight, I can feel his eyes burning holes through my body as I lie there with my back to him. I half expect him to wrap his arms around me and pull me close. Part of me wants him to. The other part wants to scream into the abyss until I taste blood.

Because I don’t know what’s real anymore.

I’ve felt drawn to Draven for weeks now, and I thought that it was because part of me liked him. Liked who he is. Even the ruthless and domineering sides of him. Especially the ruthless and domineering sides of him.

But now I don’t know anymore. Did I only feel drawn to him because of this accursed mate bond?

A sudden and bitterly ironic realization crawls up my throat like bile.

This, what I’m feeling right now, must be what my parents felt all the time while I was growing up. This maddening sensation of never knowing if their feelings were real or if they were just the result of me unwittingly manipulating them with my magic.

In fact, this must be how everyone feels when they’re around me.

Harsh laughter, tasting of blood and acid, escapes my throat. Tears sting my eyes as I bury my cheek deeper in the pillow.

After what I did to my parents, I suppose I deserve this.

At least the universe has a fucking sense of humor.

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