Chapter 22 Everly
Everly
Ishifted my weight again, fidgeting on Shiloh’s front porch. Alaric was within shouting range if I needed him, but I was hoping I wouldn’t, and that this would go smoothly. Clearly, I was being realistic.
I took a breath and gave myself a little shake. Okay, just knock on the door. The worst that can happen is he yells at you.
Just as I raised my hand to knock, the door jerked open.
“What are you doing here?” a growly, irate voice demanded.
I stepped back quickly, waving Alaric off behind my back—because I just knew he was about to charge in—and tried to look as nonthreatening as possible. Which wasn’t hard, considering, as Elandor liked to remind me, I was about as frightening as a puppy.
Shiloh was tall, maybe six feet, with curly dark hair and sapphire-blue eyes.
His frame was leaner than I’d expected, probably from all the running he did in his unicorn form.
His dark skin had a faint, pearly luminescence that no other supernatural I’d ever met possessed.
I guessed it had something to do with his horn and the way his magic fused with it.
The only reason I knew that was because I’d pestered Alaric for every last detail about both Shiloh and unicorns on our walk here.
“Hello,” I said, keeping my hands clasped behind me in a non-confrontational stance. Shiloh did not look like the fairytale unicorn healer I’d imagined. Instead, he looked haunted, scarred, and more than a little angry.
Also, he had a golden thread, glowing, shimmering, and waving faintly in the breeze as if trying to get my attention. It was visibly connected to both of us.
My instincts were right. He’s one of those I’m meant to help. Well, this request just became doubly important, then.
I straightened my shoulders and met his piercing gaze, half expecting laser beams to shoot out and reduce me to ash where I stood.
“I’m Everly,” I said, shifting my weight again. “Alaric’s mate.”
Shiloh did not look impressed.
“Get to the point,” he said flatly.
Right. The point.
“We found a dragon, and we need you to heal him.”
I was proud of myself for getting that out without tripping over my words—right up until he snarled, “Not a chance,” and slammed the door in my face. He slammed it so hard, something on the adjoining wall inside fell and shattered on the floor
Well. That could have gone better.
“I don’t do healings anymore!” he shouted through the door. “Go away!”
I inhaled slowly through my nose. Sure, I—or technically Alaric—had the power to force him, but that wasn’t what I wanted, and that wasn’t the queen I wanted to be. It would be the most ideal if he chose to help. Maybe I could just… outstubborn him.
“You’re our only hope, Shiloh!” I called through the door, trying to sound persuasive. Star Wars reference for the win. “Shay’s done everything he can. We need you!”
“No!”
I folded my arms and glared at the door. “Fine. I didn’t want to have to do this, but I’m not leaving this porch until you at least agree to go look at him!”
“Then prepare to be there a long time, lady, because I’m not helping you!”
“Challenge accepted.”
I turned as Alaric approached, his expression wary, as if he already knew the next words out of my mouth were going to give him a headache.
“Mate,” I said sweetly.
“Yes...”
“You heard all that, I assume.”
He nodded reluctantly.
“Excellent. Then you know I’m staying right here on his porch until he agrees. I’ll wear him down with sheer stubbornness.”
Alaric ran a hand through his hair, looking pained, then sighed in defeat. “I’ll alert the guards so they know what’s happening,” he said. “And I’ll stay nearby for protection—but not on the porch. I don’t want to antagonize the unicorn any more than we already have.”
“Great!” I said cheerfully, ticking items off on my fingers. “I’ll need to know where the nearest bathroom is, plus water, food, a sleeping bag, pillows, blankets, and a few books.”
Hours later, I was happily ensconced on Shiloh’s large porch. I’d claimed the prime spot right in front of his door, close enough to be impossible to ignore whenever he stepped outside.
If he ever did step outside.
I’d been here for hours, and not a single sound had come from inside. I sipped my water, turned another page, and settled in. I wasn’t going anywhere.
I was saving what might be the last full-blooded dragon on the planet. I’d do whatever it took.
That evening, it started pouring.
I was mostly dry, but I’d had to move my sleeping bag to the side of the door because of a small hole in the porch roof that was letting water through. After a few minutes of listening to the steady drip, I’d begged my mate to bring me a bucket… but the bucket was way worse.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Every time the water hit the water in the bucket, my eyebrow twitched.
It had only been a few hours, but I was already sore and exhausted.
My illnesses, though improving since I’d become a shifter, still had a way of sneaking up on me.
I got tired quickly, and the pain could make everything feel heavier.
Nausea was a constant companion some days, which was why I’d packed snacks and drinks like my life depended on it.
I opened a bag of chips and dipped one into the homemade sour cream and onion dip I’d begged the kitchen for earlier.
They’d agreed readily enough, though I’d made a quick exit when another shouting match broke out between the head chef and the baker.
One of these days, Alaric and I really needed to address that situation, for everyone’s sanity.
Before leaving, I’d also reminded Alaric to contact Alpha Riggs and Draven to explain why we’d had to leave so suddenly. I didn’t want them worrying or sending a search party through to the dreamscape.
As I munched on my chips, I found myself wondering about Piper and Alpha Riggs. Were they doing all right? Had she softened toward him at all? I hoped so, for both their sakes.
Mating didn’t guarantee perfection, I knew. People still had free will, and sometimes they made terrible choices, but I had a feeling those two would make it work.
And sweet little Alanna... the thought of her made my heart squeeze.
The lonely bear shifter alpha deserved that kind of warmth and family.
I just hoped he was as ready as he thought he was.
Sometimes, what we imagine life will be like and what it actually becomes are very different things. Not worse... just different.
When I finished my chips, I snuggled into my blankets and tried to ignore the rhythmic plink of the bucket.
Every once in a while, I had to empty it, which didn’t help with sleep.
Around two a.m., I shifted into my puppy form.
The change helped instantly. I was warmer, and though every sound and scent grew sharper, it didn’t bother me nearly as much.
The rain’s patter became almost soothing, and before long, I drifted off.
My last thought was about my poor mate, likely stationed somewhere nearby without even a porch for cover. Which meant he was probably soaked.
Poor dragon.
Four days passed, and from the news Shay brought me each day, the dragon was getting worse. I wanted to cry, but instead I curled into my nest of blankets and howled my frustration to the night sky.
It was one in the morning. Lights flicked on all up and down the street, and I could feel Elandor’s amusement buzzing through our link. Not because of my misery, but because of everyone else’s reaction to my misery.
Doors opened. Shifters in pajamas, coats, and boots stepped outside, blinking blearily, murmuring to one another.
No one dared complain. Everyone in Dragonspire knew by now what I was doing and why.
Over the past few days, people had stopped by to bring food when I was human and treats when I was shifted, each offering quiet encouragement before moving along.
Shiloh, however, was not amused.
If he’d been angry before about me camping on his porch, he was downright furious now. My constant presence was bad enough, but the steady stream of visitors offering support? Yeah, he wasn’t a fan.
Yesterday, he’d even tried to call the guards on me.
Benz—the Captain himself—had shown up with a few of his soldiers.
But instead of removing me, Benz had crouched down, petted my puppy head, and, when I wagged my tail, he’d smiled.
Which, for Benz, was both terrifying and oddly endearing.
Then he’d filled my water bowl, made sure I had food, and gone on his way.
Victory: Everly.
I didn’t blame them. My puppy form was ridiculously persuasive. Even my raven form was tolerated, though humans tended to find it unsettling. For shifters, though? It seemed they just saw another creature in need of snacks and affection.
Alaric came by often to check on me. He’d make sure I had food, water, and breaks when I needed them. He never once tried to make me leave, though I could feel his worry humming under the surface every time he looked at me. His quiet support meant more than I could say.
But that morning, Shay had brought me the worst news yet. The dragon’s inner fire was cooling.
He didn’t have much time left.
So, I howled my puppy heart out. I poured all of my sorrow and helplessness into the sound, and the whole street gathered outside, murmuring softly:
“She must have gotten bad news about the dragon.”
“I wish we could do something.”
“If it matters to our queen, it should matter to all of us.”
“What can we do? None of us are healers.”
“Maybe we can send for another unicorn?”
“The nearest one’s in Hawaii!”
“Hawaii? That’s over two thousand miles away!”
“You’re forgetting we have planes again, William.”
“Oh. Right.”
Elandor, can we call another unicorn?
We’ve already tried, of course. His reply was heavy. Of the few left, all are already dealing with emergencies.
Of course they were.
So I kept howling.
And then, suddenly, the front door flew open.
Before I could blink, my mate appeared beside me, towering and silent. Shiloh stood in the doorway, looking like he hadn’t slept a wink in days, rumpled, furious, and utterly defeated.
“Fine!” he snarled, glaring at me. “Anything to get you off my porch and let me have my quiet life back. Take me to the dragon.”
I yipped and spun in delighted circles, tail wagging furiously. Alaric and Elandor chuckled, but Shiloh only sighed like he was regretting all of his life choices.
We set off toward the stables. By the time we arrived, it seemed like half the town knew what was happening. Benz and several guards were already there, along with Shay, who looked about ready to fall over.
I barked at him in frustration, and he laughed weakly, scooping me up to his chest. His warmth felt good, even though Alaric’s narrowed eyes made it clear he was this close to snatching me back. But for now, we had bigger problems.
Inside the stall, heaters radiated warmth through the fresh hay, and the air smelled faintly of grass and ozone. Shiloh stepped up to the dragon’s massive form. As he did, his body began to glow, light shimmering through his skin like sunlight through opal.
He didn’t burn like fire; he shimmered like moonlight.
The radiance spread until the whole stall glowed with it. Shiloh moved methodically, running his luminous hands over the dragon’s scales, growing grimmer with each pass. Then, without another word, he set his palms to the dragon’s side and closed his eyes.
Hours passed. None of us spoke. We just watched as Shiloh poured everything he had into the healing.
His glow dimmed gradually, until it was barely visible, and his breathing grew shallow with fatigue.
Alaric moved a stool under him, steadying him when he swayed, but Shiloh didn’t even open his eyes—he just sagged, focused entirely on his work.
At last, he lifted his head. His face was pale, his light nearly gone. “I’ve done all I can,” he said hoarsely. “Normally, I’d heal in stages, but he was too far gone for that. I pushed everything I had into him, every last spark of healing I could summon. I hope it will be enough.”
His gaze met mine, and words seemed to fail him. He only nodded once before leaving, soldiers falling into step to escort him home.
The rest of us stayed that night. Blankets and pillows were brought in, and some of the staff joined our vigil. I curled beside the dragon in my puppy form, Alaric and Shay on either side, while guards kept a respectful distance near the stall’s edge.
As I drifted toward sleep, my thoughts wandered to where this journey had begun—how a single bit of magic had brought me from a tiny Alaska apartment, to a castle, to a crown and a dying dragon. It didn’t seem real sometimes, how quickly everything had changed.
But as dawn touched the horizon, gold light spilling across the straw, the dragon stirred—and opened his eyes.