Chapter 4 #2
Shifters in books were always portrayed as big—at least some types of shifters. I squinted in thought. He couldn’t be anything small, but that still left a wide range of choices. Too wide to narrow down.
I’d noticed earlier when I’d been next to him on the chair that he put off a lot of heat. It could be a shifter thing. I was certainly warmer as a bird. But for him, I thought it might tie directly into what he was.
What kinds of shifters produced heat?
I could only think of one, and the thought was ridiculous. Shifters and paranormals, sure. But dragons? I shook my head. Not a chance.
I puzzled over it as I tapped the spigot, and Alaric let me wash my talons before working on anything in the kitchen. I knew exactly where my talons had been, and eww. I hoped I’d get a bath later.
I ripped into a bag of salad mix and squawked in surprise when it exploded all over the counter. I made a frustrated moaning sound. Salad everywhere as far as my eyes could see. I’d even gotten some on Alaric.
He laughed as he picked it off his clothes and out of his hair, then hunted down a broom and dustpan to clean my mess.
“It’s hard when you don’t have hands, huh?” Alaric said, and I warbled mournfully in reply. I missed my hands, and I’d only been without them for a few days. How was I going to handle three months of this?
When the meal prep was finished and our chicken and vegetable bake was sizzling on the stovetop, Alaric sat down with me at the kitchen table, his expression serious.
“Everly, the letter your Gran wrote didn’t explain much about the paranormal world, and yet you found your way here. Did you feel called to come?”
I bobbed my head.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Again, I wondered what color it was. Brown? Blonde? It could even be gray for all I knew. “There’s a lot to get into, but I don’t want to overwhelm you.” He met my gaze. “Let me know if I do, okay?”
I bobbed my head again. I could do that, but I wanted information more than comfort, so I probably wouldn’t say anything, even if I was overwhelmed.
He nodded, his shoulders easing, as though my promise mattered to him on some deep level. When his eyes found mine again, I instinctively braced myself.
“In our world, I’m what’s called a mythological shifter. Dragons, phoenixes, unicorns, and a few others fall into this category. Then there are regular shifters like you and others—wolves, bears, tigers, lions, etc. Are you with me so far?”
I blinked at him in shock. I was right. I knew before he said another word that he was a dragon. A real, fire-breathing, foot-stomping, princess-saving? dragon.
While I was busy cursing my Gran under my breath, Alaric continued to explain.
“I’m a dragon.”
I knew, but still, my bird legs grew wobbly, and I had to sit down before I fell down.
I’d been called to a dragon for help. I was trying to wrap my brain around that thought when Alaric got up from his chair and came around the table. He crouched close to where I was still doing bird yoga.
“Everly,” he said gently. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”
His voice was so soft and kind that I poked my head up again and looked at him. He was less than a foot away, and I could see it now. I wasn’t sure at first, seeing it in raven wackovision, but I could see the fire backlighting his eyes when he was emotional.
Like right now.
And those deep reds in his body that moved through him like blood? I’d bet that was his dragon fire. Even from a foot away, he radiated heat.
My heart trembled. I was not cut out for adventures. I wanted a refund on this life experience.
And yet… hadn’t I flown for days, navigating only by the feel of his call?
I’d been out in a whiteout. I’d clung to a tree for survival.
I’d even fought off a peregrine falcon! Nasty little bully that he was.
I wasn’t a child anymore, and if I’d learned anything from my failing health, it was that I could do hard, scary things.
Alaric clenched his hands, like he wanted to touch me but was holding himself back. At his somewhat devastated expression, I softened. Dragon he might be, but he was gentle. I hopped closer to him and nuzzled his hands with my head.
He sighed in relief, and a small smile lit his eyes with warmth. He returned to his chair, giving me space—which I appreciated.
“The rest is… difficult for me to talk about,” he said quietly.
“A few years ago, I became sick. My dragon and I lost mental contact then, and we also lost the ability to shift.” He laced his fingers together on the table, his expression tight with pain.
“The disease also comes with some emotional and mental struggles, mostly anxiety.”
I warbled sadly. Anxiety was the worst.
His face softened. He seemed to understand my sounds surprisingly well. “The good news is that we’re getting better. I’m hoping he and I will be able to speak to each other within a day or so. We’ve been able to communicate via emotions fairly clearly, but it will be good to actually talk again.”
I bet. It would be awful to suddenly have a friend—or your other half—go silent. And they’d been dealing with this for how long? Years?
I trilled in sadness and settled my legs beneath me, fluffing my feathers.
Alaric continued, “It’s been his emotions, actually, that have guided me with you. He can hear your thoughts.”
I startled. Really? Then smiled. Hi, Alaric’s dragon.
Alaric laughed, his expression lightening. “He just startled. Did you try communicating with him?”
I nodded, grinning—probably looking like a maniacal bird—and Alaric laughed again. “I think you surprised him. I wonder if he expected you to be put off by his being able to read your thoughts.”
I settled further into my fluff. Good to know I could surprise a dragon.
Alaric grew somber again.
“Regaining the ability to shift will take more time, possibly a few weeks or so, but the good news is that we’re on the road to recovery. I wouldn’t normally share all of this, but it’s important for you to know.”
I blinked, wondering if I only imagined his slight emphasis on you. I shook my head. Whatever his reasons, I appreciated the information.
I was sadly lacking in any and all knowledge about the paranormal world. In fact, the few facts I knew couldn’t even fill a small thimble. Fiction, I knew. Facts? Not so much.
And I was so happy for him and his dragon! I didn’t even know them all that well, yet I felt a strange, intense relief that they were going to get better. I examined the feeling, surprised by its strength, and let my attention return to Alaric.
He looked… sad. Was it because he was sick?
Why would that—ohhh. I remembered that for some people—it tended to hit guys the most—feeling unable to function as they had before made them feel less than.
I wondered if that was the case with Alaric.
Did he feel like less of a man because he’d gotten sick? Ridiculous.
And since I couldn’t tell Alaric, I told his dragon: Please let him know that being sick does not diminish his worth in any way.
I’d fought that shame within myself as well.
When I’d suddenly lost the ability to do many of the things I’d been able to previously do, I’d felt like a failure somehow.
It took a lot of soul-searching to realize it wasn’t true.
Sometimes, there were things that happened to us that were outside of our control.
And those things? They didn’t make us any less.
I looked up to find Alaric staring at me, his eyes gently glowing with what I guessed was deep emotion.
And for no apparent reason, I blushed.