Chapter 19 Dragon Breath
DRAGON brEATH
JESSA
“Hey, Dickwad!” I yell across the moonlit field. “We need to talk. Shift.”
Ori’s pearlescent white dragon swings its massive head my way. The dragon chuffs, uncomfortably hot breath washing over me.
Oh, he’s not about to give me a fucking attitude.
My hands find purchase on my hips, and my boot heel beats down on the grass repeatedly. “Shift, Ori. I’m not going to say it again.”
Magic skitters over his scales, and the taloned beast turns into the gruff prince I grew up with.
“What?” he says in lieu of hello. His nostrils flare. “Why do you smell like her?”
“Alice and I had a lovely date at the diner, during which she agreed to help us. I’m going to start training her tomorrow,” I say, cutting right to the chase. “I figured you should know in case you wanted to help. You know, since it’s your crown we’re trying to win.”
If Ori had showed his face at home, he would have been up to speed on the situation with Alice. But no. After he found her here, he’d freaked out and went full beast mode—slapped a sign on his shop that it was closed for the week and fucked off into Arcadia to throw a tantrum.
Normally, I’m fine with him disappearing here to blow off steam in dragon form.
Even I need to shift every once in a while to appease my beast, but it’s dangerous for him to stay here too long.
Even if the Wandering Woods have shielded us from Maven’s wrath before, the longer he’s here, the more likely Enzo is to pick up his scent and trail it to the Meadow.
Glacial navy eyes stare at me unbelievingly. “No.”
“Ori—”
“I said no, Jessa,” Ori snaps, surging forward. “You’re not seeing the whole picture and are meddling in business you shouldn’t.”
I don’t flinch as he stops short of my face, his growl vibrating the inch of air between our noses. This stupid dragon is going to be the death of me. He cannot see past his own snout; he cannot see the whole picture.
“We cannot give up this chance to save our home,” I seethe between clenched teeth. “We have a chance to all be happy. Together. Here, where we belong.” My nail jabs into Ori’s pectoral. “If you want her, you need to grow the balls and tell her. Same with Harley for that matter.”
“I don’t want her.”
“Bullshit. She’s your fated. Of course you want her.”
“She left me,” he roars. “She left all of us.”
“We were eight fucking years old. Get over it!” I throw my hands out to my side. “We all lost something when Alice left. But it’s a gift that she found her way back to us. Accept it.”
“You don’t understand,” Ori insists.
“Of course I don’t understand. Because you won’t talk to us!” My shout echoes in the field. The trees surrounding us bristle; the leaves whisper their judgment.
“I don’t have anything else left to say,” he says, hand rubbing at his chest.
I shake my head; clearly, I wasn’t going to get anywhere arguing with him. He always does this—retreats when it gets hard. It’s why I have to push him. I’m the only one with the balls to do it.
“She met Memaw, by the way, right before you found her,” I add.
“Alice might not remember, but she knows, Ori. I’ve told her as much as I can about Arcadia and she still wants to help.
I’m not going to let your stubborn attitude fuck this up for us.
” At his shocked expression, I dig the knife in his gut with my words and twist. “We have everything to gain and nothing to lose, except her. Again.” I turn my back on my prince.
“She’ll be by the house at ten tomorrow to train. Come. Or don’t.”
He doesn’t call out to me as I shift. The comforting magic blankets me, and I shake out my fur as I dash between the trees back to the Meadow.
Trouble walks through the gate to our backyard a sensible three minutes before ten.
She’s dressed in workout attire like I asked, but maybe I should have thought through that request before giving it.
Her bike shorts hug her ass like a second skin and her baggy T-shirt catches on the curve of her hips, draping low and hiding that tiny waist I want to wrap my arms around.
“Hey,” she calls out, walking past the fire pit and hammock to the large swath of grass to where I’m standing. “I hadn’t realized your place butts up against the park.”
“Yep,” I say, glancing back at the chain-link fence. Beyond the silver cross-hatching is the end of the park’s baseball field. “Makes it real convenient when we need to get to the portal.”
I splay my arms out wide, inviting Alice in for a hug. She takes the bait. We wrap ourselves around each other, and I relish the tight press of our bodies.
“Is that what it’s called?” Alice huffs, her chin notched on my shoulder. She pulls away from me, taking a step back with her nose all scrunched up. “A portal sounds science-fiction-y.”
“We could call it a rift, or a thinning of the veil between realms, or something else entirely. But portal is the most straight forward,” I say, shrugging. “Not that it’s mattered much before, when it was only us three managing it.”
Alice nods, attention drifting around the backyard. The red oaks and maples are tall here, and their widespread branches provide us with a wealth of shade in summer.
The scratch of the screen door sliding open and closed rips though the air, and Ori stomps out of the house in his own version of training gear. It’s what we use in Arcadia—traditional fighting leathers—and he looks sorely out of place with both Alice and I in modern spandex.
At least he showed.
He stops five feet away, with his whole body angled towards me, as if he can’t stomach even looking at Alice. Alice is his mirror, shoulders stiff and arms crossed defensively.
“Why are you in gym clothes?” he rasps. “I thought we were training.”
“Well hello to you too,” Alice mutters under her breath.
“We are,” I drawl, tossing a hand at the cones I’ve set up in the backyard. They’re bright orange dots in the green. “But we can’t jump in with swordplay in leathers on day one. I need to assess her fitness level first. Then we’ll work on some calisthenics and cardio.”
Ori’s a rock, his expression unreadable. “Then why am I here?”
Alice scoffs. It’s a soft sound that escapes her throat, with her head turned the opposite direction of Ori. But she doesn’t know we have heightened hearing, and Ori’s jaw ticks in response. His fingers dig bruises into his biceps.
“For team bonding,” I drawl. “I know there was a rocky start between you both, but you have to play nice if you actually want to win. There are three events in the tourney. One for the Champions. One for the Heirs. And one for the both of you. Together. Can you both handle that?”
Ori grunts, which is better than him storming away. It means he’s taking this seriously.
“Alice?” I ask.
“Yeah, I can manage that.” She finally glances at my growly prince. There’s confusion mixed with melancholy in the gentle dip of her frown as she studies him. “Though it would be nice to get a thank you, Beast.”
It’s the first time I’ve seen them interact face-to-face and the tension between them is much worse than I thought. It’s clear they’re drawn to each other—why else would they be so affected by each other’s presence? But Harley was overselling it when he told me things were awkward.
“I’m not going to thank you for solving the problem you caused in the first place,” Ori grumbles, and I cringe at how it causes Alice’s jaw to grind.
I’m going to have to find a way to get Ori to show he cares, fast. Otherwise, he’s going to push her away, and lose all of us in the process.
Alice groans, an arm slung over her eyes as she lays in the grass.
Her chests expands in quick succession with her breath, and a flush blooms beneath her sports bra, crawling up her neck.
She ditched her baggy T-shirt a while ago, exposing her sweat-slicked midsection in an attempt to beat the oppressive heat.
Maybe I should have us train at the gym next time. The gym has air conditioning. But out here, we can mimic Arcadia’s outdoor arena… and we get privacy.
“Get up, we’re not done,” Ori says. He glares down at her and makes no offer of a hand to help her up. I don’t know if she’s noticed that he’s actively avoiding touching her. “If that’s the best you can do, we might as well not even try to enter the tourney.”
“Oh, fuck off, dude,” Alice says. Her forearm slides off her eyes, over her forehead, and pushes into her loosened ponytail.
“I used to be fit. I was a damn good fencer in high school. But I haven’t worked out in a couple of years…
cut me some slack.” She groans as she pushes to sitting. “And I’m not a quitter.”
“It’s no biggie, Trouble, give it a few weeks for muscle memory to kick in,” I say, attempting to diffuse the mounting tension. I offer her my hand and heft her up. “I didn’t know you already knew how to wield a sword. That’ll make things easier later.”
“I have a feeling that what I know won’t be the same kind of swordplay you’re used to.
But hopefully my experience will ensure I’m not incompetent.
” Alice dusts grass and dirt off her ass.
Out of the corner of my eye, Ori huffs, pacing away to go run another agility drill between the cones.
“I don’t need him to like me or anything,” Alice adds, leaning in close. “But he’s infuriating.”
“I’ll speak to him about his behavior.” Again. “But in the meantime, Harley and I will make it up to you. Show you how grateful we are, ya’ know?”
My coy lilt draws a spark of a smile from her.
“Yeah? How do you intend to do that? Outside of Harley being my model of course,” Alice volleys back.
“I could always fill in for him from time to time,” I tease. “I’m partial to the nude version though.”
“Maybe after a few drinks.” Alice laughs, that twinkling sound filling our yard. Wind-chimes. Sunlight. Sweet tea sliding down your throat.
At the sound, Ori trips over air—or maybe it was the last rung of the drill ladder—and falls on his back. It’s a big commotion, and we gape at him as his hands swipe over his face. A pained groan rumbles in his chest.
“You okay over there?” I call out.
Ori stills, his chest expanding with a deep inhale and collapsing with a release. Then, he pushes off the ground with unnatural speed, making a break for the house. “I’m getting some water.”
It’s almost comical, the way he storms across the grass. The screen door to the house sticks a quarter of the way open, and he fights with it, practically ripping it off its track to make enough room for his broad shoulders to slide through.
Scratch that. It’s absolutely comical, watching him try to fight his attraction to Alice.
Thing is, you can’t fight fate. Not when it comes to love.
He’ll give in eventually.