Chapter 12 #3
Keep. Protect. My dragon rumbles seductively inside me, and there’s no telling it to shut up because its essence permeates my whole body.
The beast is more honest than the man, pushing thoughts of golden eyes, silky black hair, and red lips to my mind.
It whispers to me through every pumping vein why I choose to spar with Idallia the most—because I know I’ll win, I can pin her underneath me, and murmur something against her neck without anyone suspecting I crave her scent and want to inhale it deep into my lungs and keep it there until I can do it again.
My starborn magic latches on to my thoughts, wanting to seep out and wrap shadowy heat around the woman next to me.
Contracting every muscle, I wage an internal battle and leash myself just as the food arrives.
Other dragon shifters take one form or the other—a conscious choice of skin or scales.
I’m both at once, which makes me stronger, faster, and more feral.
What that feral part doesn’t understand, or care about, is that Idallia doesn’t know the truth—and that I’m the one keeping it from her.
“What’s to stop the vampires from killing their captives as soon as we attack?” Arran asks, cutting into meat that drips red. “They can bolster their strength and start healing from injuries just by sucking someone down in seconds.”
Leaning back in my chair, I scrub a hand down my face. “We’ll just have to do our best to protect them.” It seems that’s all I can promise these days.
“What if we’re the ones who spot something?” Idallia asks as she pokes at a potato. They steam, still too hot to eat. “You don’t have wing guards to carry the message.”
“We’ll send Fyrestar and Rimblaze to alert the others.”
My words must be sour, because she makes a face. No argument leaves her mouth, though.
Idallia goes quiet, so everyone else does too. Or maybe it’s because I’m here—and barely eating. I try to show interest in my meal.
“So…” Wade’s humor-laced tone cuts through an extended silence.
“What do you call a vampire who can’t get their fangs to come out?
” He looks around the table expectantly.
I shake my head, miserable at jokes. Everyone else has an Oh great Cealastra expression on their face, and Wade looks even more pleased with himself.
“Poor sucker,” he finally says when no one answers.
My groan isn’t the only one. Danica rolls her eyes.
“Wait, wait.” Wade grins wider. “I have another one. What do you call an old and wrinkly fae nearing their end?”
“Poor sucker?” Maia ventures.
Wade scowls at her, chuckling underneath. “Anyone else?”
“Broke?” Danica suggests.
Wade shakes his head.
“Well?” Kellan says. “Spit it out.”
“Unglamorous,” Wade answers with a shrug.
I laugh despite Wade’s ridiculousness and the very real and increasingly worrisome amount of fae using their seductive glamour magic to change the way people perceive their intentions and deafen them to the warning bells that should be clanging in their heads.
“Got one about dragon shifters?” I ask.
Wade lifts his mug, hiding a smile behind a sip of ale. “I wouldn’t dare.”
“Humans?” Idallia asks.
He shakes his head. “And risk some Drayke Mountain sorcerer cursing me? Not a chance.”
“Phoenixes?” Arran arches his brows.
Wade looks aghast. “Surely, you jest.”
“There are only werebeasts left.” Maia points her knife at Wade, her eyes narrowing. “Please tell me you have a good one I can use the next time we fight a pack of raiders in the north.”
Wade chews his meat, his expression turning thoughtful and vague. “What do you call a werebeast who can’t shift?” he finally asks.
“Poor sucker,” Kellan tosses across the table with a grin. We all laugh, and for the first time in weeks, I don’t want to physically remove him from my presence.
“I know.” Danica halts her fork halfway to her mouth, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Unglamorous.”
Wade thumps his mug down with a huff. “Not every joke has the same punch line.”
“What’s the answer, then?” Idallia asks, her throaty chuckle made to haunt me.
“Human.” Wade looks around the table, his brows rising expectantly. “If they can’t shift, they’re not a shifter. They’re human.”
“Yeah, that one doesn’t work.” Maia’s flat assessment leaves Arran’s lips twitching as he tries not to laugh.
Kellan spreads his hands. “It’s not false.”
“It’s not funny, either,” Danica says around a mouthful of her lunch.
“Ah! Well!” Wade lifts his mug, signaling for more ale. “They can’t all be winners.”
“You should’ve led with the worst one, not the best.” Idallia pokes at her meal without eating it, even now that it’s cooled off. Her mug sits on the table, almost untouched.
Leaning toward her, I frown. “I thought you were hungry.” Her frost-and-sunshine scent fills my nostrils. Greedy for another breath of her, I stay close.
She gazes at her bowl of cheesy potatoes like she wants to eat but just can’t. She tugs at the silver band around her neck. “I’m still…thinking.”
“Would soup help?” She seems to accept liquids better than anything else.
“I don’t know.” She turns to me, our gazes colliding. She’s so close that I see the starbursts in her eyes. “Everything tastes weird, especially since I put on the torque.”
My pulse takes off with a thud. I was trying to help her, but what if I made things worse?
I lean back when my dragon reaches for her with shadows that nearly cross my skin. “Sometimes spells go wrong. If it doesn’t feel right, take it off.”
“I think I just need to get used to it.” She touches the torque, one finger sliding over the silver.
Her nail is tinged blue with cold, like in the dead of winter.
“It’s got to stop prickling at some point.
” Her eyes meet mine again, her worried frown making me want to lay answers at her feet. “Right?”
I nod, though I don’t know. Another day, another lie. My meal turns to lead in my stomach as she lowers her hand and flexes her visibly stiff fingers.
“Why don’t you go outside and get some sunshine?” I suggest. “It’ll help. After, you can come back and finish your meal.”
Nodding, she looks at me oddly as she stands, something suspicious flickering in her gaze. Unease drops through me like a rockslide, but when she shivers in the hot tavern, her body confused and her stomach rebelling, I know I did the right thing.