Chapter 15
The trouble with his dragon form was that after a certain amount of time, he really needed to stretch his wings, but if he were to do that in this small room, he’d probably destroy several priceless objects.
Hopefully, Alex would be back soon, and he hadn’t been lying about allowing Dorian to go outside.
He’d love to be able to fly right now, to feel the currents under his wings and the freedom that flying gave him.
He was in deep trouble and reliant on people who had no real reason to help him, so there was no danger of him leaving, but he needed some relief from the madness.
Karl had popped in with fresh water and a cow’s leg, which had been a most welcome breakfast, and had told him that he now had the cologne Trevir had created, was running some tests and had asked for a few scales.
He had a dry patch behind his ear, and Karl had been able to help himself to a couple of loose ones.
That was another problem: he didn’t usually spend this long as a dragon.
He kept his skin moist as a human, which kept his scales supple when he shifted.
He was going to moult if he wasn’t careful.
The door opened, and Alex arrived, still wearing a suit but not as formal as his other one. He was very pretty, and Dorian liked his green eyes and the way his long blond hair fell, exposing the points of his ears. He sat up. “You’re here.”
“I said I would be. Now I’ve had a nap, I’m in a better headspace to support you.”
“Headspace? Can’t say I’ve ever heard an elf care about that,” he said, sitting up. “But then you’re not like other elves.”
“Yes, well, I don’t care what other elves do, as long as they’re not causing me trouble. So, let me add the tags Ashley mentioned, and then we can test out the distortion spell.”
“It would be great to spread my wings. I’m getting a bit stiff,” he admitted.
“Then we can start there, once we’re ready. If you slowly unfurl them, we can see if the distortion is working.”
He liked the idea, and he could control his wings, so if it wasn’t working, he would be able to stop. “All right. Will your tags hurt?”
“I don’t think so. You seemed to have no problem when Ashley placed the original spell, so this should be fine.”
Ashley’s magic had tickled, and he’d been surprised by how nice the sensation was. “Felt a bit like bubbles. Trevir’s magic didn’t feel like that; his was more prickly, not painful but not nice.”
“Some practitioners believe that there’s a lot to do with the intent when it comes to how magic impacts someone. If Trevir’s intentions towards you weren’t in your best interests, then it might explain the prickly effect he had on you.”
He’d never thought about magic in those terms. He was a supernatural creature, not a magical one, but he’d experienced enough magic in his time to see how Alex might be right. “I much prefer the tickly kind.”
“I’m sure I don’t need to know your kinks,” Alex said, smirking. “Let me get started. It shouldn’t hurt.”
Dorian braced himself for pain or tickles, but he was not prepared for the delicious honey-like wave that washed over him. Alex’s magic seemed happy to be able to play, and he let out a noise somewhere between a purr and a growl. If he could blush, he’d be glowing.
“Er… did it work?” he asked.
Alex blinked rapidly and cleared his throat. Dorian guessed he wasn’t the only one who’d enjoyed the spell. “I have no reason to think it didn’t, but the only way to tell is to test it.”
Alex beckoned Dorian to come out of his nest and stand towards one side of the room. Dorian was happy to oblige, but if the spell didn’t work, he might end up scratching a sideboard. “I’ll move as slowly as I can.”
Unfurling his wings was a blessed relief, but it was curtailed by his need to be careful.
A shimmering sensation settled around his wing tips; it felt a little bit like hundreds of bubbles bursting across his skin, not unpleasant but a bit odd.
The pieces of furniture around him appeared to bend and shape themselves as if they were trying to get out of his way.
He’d seen a lot of weird shit in his time, but never anything like this.
Alex clapped his hands together in delight. “It’s working. Come on, Dorian, let’s see your wings in all their glory.”
He was a vain man, an even vainer dragon, and he stretched out his wings to their full span, preening at the delight on Alex’s face.
He loved his dragon form; he was majestic, a member of the Firestarter family, and a fine specimen.
The walls of the room distorted to accommodate him, and all Dorian could think about was his need to fly.
“Can I go outside?”
“I should think so. We’ll take it slowly to allow the hall to adapt, but we’re not far from the doors onto the east terrace here. Follow me.”
Alex walked out of the door, and Dorian poked his head through, half expecting to get stuck, but the doorway shifted, and he entered the hall, which also expanded to allow his bulk to pass.
He trotted after Alex, who was already halfway down the corridor.
He marvelled at how the magic had given him his freedom, and he would need to thank Ashley for this gift.
He’d been worried he’d be stuck in the room, and now instead he was going to be able to go outside.
Crofton Hall was a lovely building, and he’d filmed several projects in this sort of place.
He’d been hatched in England but had moved to the US to further his acting career, and he’d not lived anywhere as posh as Crofton Hall.
His parents, like most dragons, had been financially well-off and had supported his acting endeavours even though they had no clue what it meant.
But then they’d been nearly six hundred years old when they’d died, and the movie industry was just beginning in the US.
He could probably afford to buy something like this now; he had the sort of money most could only dream of, but while his career was still going strong, he wasn’t going to leave LA.
Alex led him into another reception room, which was much larger and had French windows overlooking a terrace.
His excitement at seeing the sky made his breathing heavy, and smoke escaped his nostrils.
Alex chuckled. “Nearly there. You’re worse than a puppy.”
“I just want to fly. I shift daily into a dragon, and it’s to fly and stretch my wings, since I’ve not been able to it’s almost like I’ve loads of pent-up energy I need to get out.”
Alex opened the doors, and Dorian felt a rush of cooler air. It was wonderful. “Come on then. But not too long, or too far. We need to solve your shifting problem, and we can’t do that if you’re not here.”
Dorian didn’t think he’d have been let out without some measures in place to stop him flying away, but he wanted Alex to know he had no intention of leaving.
“I promise I won’t go far. Maybe whatever happened is just a matter of waiting for it to wear off, but I won’t take that risk. I know I need your help.”
The UK weather wasn’t like LA. The air was colder with a touch of dampness, but Dorian didn’t care.
The climate here suited his scales better; they were less dry when he visited and found the water made his human hair less fluffy.
He didn’t need a run-up; he let out his wings and launched himself into the air with a leap and steered himself higher.
There was nothing like flying, which could empty his mind of all his troubles and allow him to enjoy the freedom.
He flapped harder to get more lift and soared over Crofton Hall.
The manor was red-bricked and as lovely on the outside as within.
He could see a maze and the lake Alex had mentioned.
He decided to explore a little; he could see ducks on the water, but they and several other birds scattered as he approached.
He’d promised Karl he wouldn’t eat them as they were too small to get much of a meal from one, although he thought he’d be partial to the odd swan.
Dorian turned his head, searching to see if Alex was still watching, and he did a loop the loop when he spotted him still standing on the terrace.
He flew off again, over a small orchard, and towards the denser woods surrounding the house.
There were trails that would be great for hiking, once he was human again, and hidden areas where a couple could snatch a few hours of privacy.
His home in the US had nothing like this, and he wondered if, once this was over, he could investigate buying somewhere in England.
Come back to his roots and enjoy the greenery missing from LA.
He knew he should head back soon; even this short flight had given him a much-needed restorative.
Alex was no longer on his own; he was talking to Karl and another man with long black hair, who, for a worrying moment, Dorian thought was Simon, but as he got closer, he realised it was Jack Webb.
Another warlock, and Chris’s partner. Alex waved him down, and Dorian wondered what these three had in store for him.
Part of him wanted to keep flying, but they had promised to help, and he at least believed Alex. He came to land in front of them, ready to submit to his fate.