Chapter Sixteen
Ghreid
When Varis said he wanted their ceremony to be small, he’d meant it wholeheartedly. They would say their vows on the wyvern’s paddock, take their first flight, and hopefully spend the rest of the full moon—which was painfully few days away—rutting into the night. That was the plan, at least.
They sat together, side by side, staring out at the setting sun that evening, the stars only beginning to wink and sparkle at them.
Ghreid reached for Varis’s hand and did his best to ignore Asha and Rath and their stolen kisses sitting not too far away, legs dangling off the cliff face.
Their little ones, asleep for the night, gave them time to fraternize and go for a flight—one that Varis would discover himself during.
“I’m thinking silver,” Draenvir said, admiring his own green scales smattering his hand. “What do you think, Pryd?”
Pryd glanced over and shrugged. “Water is his element, so perhaps a seaborne blue or the gray of the lacemaker beasts.”
Falustus hummed. “He has eccentricity in his heart. I vote for something vivid, like a flower. Bright like silks.”
Slath, who had lounged about taking in the sights, waved his hand dismissively. “It’s all about the pallor. He’d fare well with a darker color, perhaps dark magenta, or violet. But he will bear some element of water. I say bicolored. Say it is my artist’s eye, but scales do match our form.”
That was true. Ghreid shrugged. “I’ll make no guesses. Whatever scales the fates give him, are the scales I will love the most.”
Varis rolled his eyes with a shy little smirk, but he didn’t fight back when Ghreid lifted his hand for a tender kiss. “Keep staring at the moon, my mate. When your heart races, we fly.”
The coordinated flutter and flap of wings passed between the eight dragons standing vigil, ready to welcome in the ninth. The leathery ripple in the sea breeze made a music that Ghreid would hold in his heart for all time. Brothers standing together.
“This is so different than when it happened to me.” Asha laughed as he leaned into Rath’s side and hummed.
“You were flying on Heckle, right?” Varis glanced over.
“Falling off Heckle,” Lapryda corrected.
“Falling would imply it was by accident. I jumped.” Asha laughed and Rath clutched the male tighter. Back then, he’d been beside himself with fear and anger.
Rath flinched and shook his head. “My heart still stops when I recall that. You dove with Heckle and leaped into my arms.”
“Hmm…” Varis swung his legs as the moon’s gibbus form glowed through the fading light.
Ghreid couldn’t have stopped him if he tried; the reaction so sudden.
Varis stood and took a few steps back for a stretch.
He stripped his tunic and rolled the hems of his pants up before making one stride then another.
Ghreid swore the instant he did it, running full speed toward the edge of the cliff face.
The turbid, churning water below had few in the way of rocky, jutting outcrops, but Varis knew what he was doing. He ran, jumped, and flew, his body in perfect form.
He didn’t fight the current of gravity or the whipping wind; rather he streamlined his body and aimed for the water in a way that made him shoot like an arrow through the air.
“Fuck!” Ghreid dove after him, wings arched.
His brothers cried out, and Lapryda, as pompous as he was, threw his hands out with magic, trying to slow the male’s descent.
Asha and Rath followed suit, with Envi, Galatan, Lust, and Slath joining in.
Wind and water—fire in the way the heated air created an updraft.
But beyond all logic, Varis twirled in the air, spinning until he slipped into the water’s surface seamlessly.
He’d used the aiding magic to avoid the rocks, controlling his aim, and as the jettisoning form of his body shot out into the ocean, a glow suffused his flesh, glowing spots over where his freckles lined up.
Ghreid followed his flow through the water, gliding above him until he shot out of the water with a gasp of delight and laughter, hands rising to reach for Ghreid as he passed over.
“Varis!” Ghreid grasped Varis’s hands and pulled the male into his arms and twirled to re-situate his weight.
Above them, seven other winged males joined their flight, their rippling shadowed reflections hovering along while Asha laughed with delight—much to Ghreid’s chagrin.
“Woo!” Varis laughed as Ghreid took an updraft and led their flight.
Shifted half-formed draconic males surrounded him, three to one side, three to the other, with Galatan flying above, watching with an almost-tangible fear.
Circe had taken the leap after her first shift, and though they never spoke it aloud, she did not spread her wings; the gesture intentional.
She wished to die. Varis wished to live.
Joy, as tangible as Galatan’s fear, wept from Varis’s heart, sparking in new magic that welled beneath his skin.
“He’s multitoned, indigo based!” Slath cheered from Ghreid’s left as he stared at what little of Varis he could make out, his freckles still glowing in the waning light while dark, almost-purple scales stretched in a spread over his shoulders, up his neck and cheeks.
“I’m…” Varis cried out as he held his hand out before him, watching scales travel along the planes of his flesh. “I’m… I’m really a dragon!”
“I suppose we’re cutting the flight short!” Ghreid roared, the sound strained from his human throat, a cry of possession and joy.
“We’ll continue our flight once we escort you back. We wish to shift.” Rath echoed a roar of joy.
“Why wait? We can go to the stacks!” Ghreid banked and aimed their flight path toward the stacks where he’d first spied Varis.
The path they took wove them over troubled waters, the muddy surface marginally cleaner than it had been since Ghreid had arrived.
Cleanup crews had left for the evening, but their work grew more apparent by the day.
And the construction on the kilns couldn’t come fast enough.
But that could wait a little longer, Ghreid’s mind focusing on his mate as they landed one by one atop the stacks, spread out as his brothers shed their clothes and stowed them in carried packs that would settle around their necks as they shifted.
One by one, they stretched their true forms to the skies, great beasts in pearl and royal blue, soft as sky, violet, green, a glimmering light red, almost mauve, and chromic black that shifted to the lightest copper at the edges, all-consuming in the night sky.
Ghreid carefully set Varis on unsteady feet and shifted, his great form towering above the small male, his draconic shift in its infancy.
Ghreid wished he could admire his own body in that form, instead of the bits and bobs of gold he could see of his form.
Varis reached his scaling arms toward him and Ghreid plucked his mate into his front arms, but Varis swung around to mount Ghreid’s neck.
A squeeze of strong thighs and the tiny prick of fingers gripping onto his spines told Ghreid all he needed to know. Varis preferred to ride.
Ghreid might one day test that desire in other ways.
His blood brothers took off into the night as Asha waited, lovely tail curling in wait for Ghreid to take off.
He glanced over toward his brother by law and made a nudging gesture of his snout with a slight lilt.
They could speak through their minds, but Asha’s voice, internally, was still feral and rather like shouting.
He gestured toward Varis then the lighthouse and snorted, a lick of flame curling about. A clear intent to escort them back.
Ghreid beckoned him. Come.
Asha nodded, and they took off, Varis whooping with delight, his body trembling.
He’d be weak. He’d have needs. Ghreid would hold him close and take liberties without end.