Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
The mountains spread out below them, and moonlight gleamed on strands of wispy clouds in the cold, clear air. Anyone looking up would see only mist and stars, or perhaps an unidentifiable, blurry dark patch.
Luka strained his ears toward the distant castle, but they were already too far away—even for his acute hearing—to know whether they’d been seen.
He cast a glance toward the looming Nabasberg and sent a wish to the gods that lived there.
Please, Mother of the Weave, please let us have been in the air before they even thought to look. Please keep Izzy safe.
His beast rumbled, low and dark, remembering those last moments of terror.
Of knowing that they could be found lurking outside the room of a murdered diplomat at any second.
The thought of Izzy captured, frightened, punished, executed, made him want to rain fire down on the earth until anything that might hurt her was utterly obliterated.
The shift should have been agony, but he’d hardly felt it. He’d transformed from man to beast in less time than he’d ever imagined possible. All he knew was that he had to keep hold of Izzy. Izzy, who should have been safe in her bed all along!
“We are never doing anything like that again. You are never doing anything like that again!” he rumbled, trying to get a grip on the terror that still clawed at him. And now he had her a mile above the ground—without a harness—where the slightest mistake could send her plummeting to her death.
Izzy turned her head and nestled into his neck, making herself comfortable. She didn’t seem nearly as frightened as she should have been. “Okay,” she murmured, and then she added so quietly that if he wasn’t a drake, her words would have been lost in the wind, “but can we maybe do this part again?”
He tightened his grip as a deep rumbling purr—one that he was powerless to stop—filled the air.
She had to hear it, there was no way she didn’t.
Damn it. His beast was thrilled with the idea of taking her flying.
Holding her in their claws, nestled against his massive chest, as often and as long as possible.
But if they did that, how was he ever going to set her down again?
An updraft caught his wings, and he turned in a tighter spiral toward the mountains.
A vivid image of Izabel bathing in the heated springs filled his mind.
He’d never taken anyone else up there. Since Rayan had died, he hadn’t gone at all.
But she would love it. Izzy had always been happy outdoors.
She loved climbing and swimming, and he wanted to share it with her.
He could picture her so clearly, bathing in the mist, surrounded by starlight, her body gleaming and lush.
The drake purred even louder, delighted by that idea, and started to bank, turning them toward the springs before he wrested back some vague semblance of control.
Gods, how he longed to take her there. But they had to get back and help Shane and the others.
They had to know what—if anything—the guards had seen.
If nothing else, they needed to establish an alibi that others could corroborate.
And that didn’t include whisking her to the hidden springs and mapping the constellations on her skin with his tongue.
His beast huffed, but it accepted the truth, and they turned back toward the city.
They floated down, hidden in the night, wings sweeping quietly over the darkest streets.
He carefully aligned himself, gripped Izzy tightly for one last moment, and landed as gently as he could in the narrow, cobbled alley beside her shop.
He released her onto her feet and forced himself back into his human skin for the second time that night.
It was always agony, but after years without shifting—and the brutal speed of his earlier change—it was especially excruciating.
He was tired, and it hurt to let go of the warmth of the mountain, to release the healing magic.
Luka bit back a rough groan as his bones popped, skin shredded, and the beast slowly faded.
The pain dropped him to his knees, and he stayed there, hands fisted on the cobbles as he shuddered.
He was about to push himself to stand when a small, cool hand settled on his back.
And then he couldn’t make himself move at all.
“I’m sorry,” Izzy said gently. “I know this bit is bad.”
He grunted, letting her touch flow through his burning skin.
We could have this, his beast murmured. We could have it all the time.
No, they couldn’t. Izzy had a new life now. The thought gave him the push he needed, and he made himself stand. “Come on, let’s get in before someone sees us,” he muttered, still facing away.
Her hand fell from his back, and he heard her turn, knowing without having to see her face that he’d landed yet another barb.
He dragged a shaking hand down his face, then followed her through the alley to the front of the store with its polished mhoba wood sign: a drake biting its own tail, warding off evil.
She’d kept the sign left by the previous owner, but it was brightly polished now. Welcoming, rather than threatening.
Luka waited in the shadows until she unlocked her door and then slipped inside behind her.
Izzy lit a lamp in the doorway and then led him through her shop.
The last time he’d been inside, he’d been a child, brought to the apothecary by his grandfather.
He remembered strange smells, yellowing jars, and dusty corners full of spiders.
When Rayan had heard from one of the castle healers that their uncle was losing the shop to the crown after failing to pay their loan and suggested Izzy take it up, Luka thought Rayan was crazy.
He’d struggled to picture her in such a dingy place.
And, if he was honest, he wanted her to stay in the castle with him.
It was only after Rayan died that he realized it would be better for her to leave.
Better for her to stay away. And then later still, when his guilt and grief were more manageable, he’d come to her…
but it was too late. And so he never went inside.
We should have helped her .
Maybe, but being around her all day would have been torture. She’d moved on, and it was for the best. How could they have made a life, with him at the castle and her here? With him knowing he’d failed Rayan so catastrophically—even if she forgave him for it.
His beast grunted with irritation. So you keep telling yourself that, but the truth is that you decided she would leave you eventually, and you didn’t want to risk it.
Luka didn’t argue. Of course, that was the truth. He didn’t deserve Izzy, and the moment she realized it, she would leave. He’d been left enough for one lifetime, and he never wanted to be that lost, lonely boy ever again.
In the end, she didn’t need his help anyway.
She’d found a lover, made friends, and turned the store into one of the most respected apothecaries in the city.
One look around showed how much she’d achieved.
The polished shelves groaned under a wealth of neatly arrayed tinctures and ointments.
Immaculate glass jars and beautifully carved boxes were carefully labeled in Izzy’s slanting script.
The air smelled pleasantly of wax and herbs, with a subtle underlay of something smoky and sharp—saltpeter perhaps—as well as more earthy tones of roots and mushrooms.
It reminded him of her father’s rooms in the castle.
Of the years he spent running in and out with Rayan.
Just being here, surrounded by those scents, made him feel that old sense of comfort once more.
Rayan must have missed it terribly. Was that why he’d chosen to join the physiks? To feel close to the father he’d lost?
So many times, Luka had wished he’d given his friend a chance to explain. So many times, he’d cursed himself for his anger. For turning away and refusing to listen after the shock of Rayan’s declaration that he planned to leave the guards.
Izzy made her way behind the counter and opened a small wooden door at the back, no doubt leading to the apartment above. She never looked at him.
“Why did Rayan leave the guards?” His words fell out, unintended. But he couldn’t take them back. He needed to know.
“What?” Izzy spun back, her eyes flying to his.
Luka swallowed, wishing he wasn’t naked for this conversation.
He was vulnerable enough already. He stalked closer, putting the store counter between them.
If only there were a way to explain what he meant without admitting how badly he’d fucked up.
But maybe that was where he’d gone wrong before?
He should have just told the truth and let her hate him for the right reasons.
Luka let out a long breath, and—finally—explained.
“When Rayan told me he was leaving the guards to join the physiks, I was… angry.” More than angry.
He was devastated, betrayed, and enraged.
He settled a hand on the cool countertop and used it to ground himself…
and perhaps to get that little bit closer to Izzy.
“I didn’t listen to his reasons. I didn’t speak to him at all.
” He dropped his chin to his chest so that he didn’t have to see the look on her face.
“I turned him away. That’s why he died. If I’d listened…
.” He cleared his throat, but it didn’t dislodge the ache that spread all the way to his heart.
“If I’d listened, he would be alive now. I’m so sorry.”
Izzy’s soft fingers settled onto his, and he locked his gaze onto the connection. His large hand splayed out on the counter. Hers was smaller and more delicate, but so strong and capable, resting gently on top of his.
“It’s not your fault, Luka,” she said quietly.
“It is. I should have—”