Chapter 60
Severin
THE CARRIAGE CREAKS AS I step down into the snow, my boots settling into the untouched white blanket.
“Are you sure this is the place?” the driver asks, squinting toward the rural road winding through the trees. It’s buried in snow, and it’s clear no wagons have passed this way recently.
In my chest, there’s a subtle pull, like hearing a whisper from an adjoining room, beckoning to me, and it confirms I’m in the right place.
“Quite,” I say as I fetch my luggage bag from the carriage and close the door. “Thank you.” I reach up to pay the driver with a few shiny eldertokens.
Though the driver doesn’t look convinced, he takes my coins and tips his cap, then clucks to the horse, who starts forward again, bells on its harness tinkling softly in the crisp winter air.
The carriage wheels crunch over the snow until the sound fades into silence.
Then I’m alone in the cold, my breath steaming around my mouth.
Ahead, the road curves between stands of white-barked trees, their bare branches whispering in the winter wind. Snow drifts across the road in thin tendrils, snaking off into the deep forest.
I draw my cloak tighter around myself, flex my fingers around the strap of my luggage bag, and begin to walk.
When I received the mysterious letter, I knew immediately who it was from, even before I opened it. Maeve’s scent clung to the parchment, reminding me of the nights we’ve spent together, the way her breath feels on my skin, how her hair falls around us when she leans over me.
I’ve no idea where she’s taking me. But like I told her before, I trust her.
And it’s been many decades since someone last had a surprise for me.
As I walk, I tip my head back to admire the frost-laced branches and the way the snow glitters as it’s brushed from the trees by the wind. Somewhere far off, a crow calls, its voice breaking the peaceful silence.
There’s no question as to whether I’m headed in the right direction. My blood bond with Maeve accompanies me, guiding my every step as if it’s a hand on my back, pushing me subtly in the direction I wish to go.
Toward her. Always toward her.
Every step I take seems to draw me away from the carefully controlled life I’ve lived for so long and closer to something wilder, something uncontained.
Something very much like a storm.
The road bends between a tight cluster of low-hanging trees. A dusting of snow falls from one, catching in my hair, and I brush it away as I round the turn, to where four roads intersect.
I stop walking. My breath catches.
Maeve stands at the center of the crossroads, her long hair hanging loose around her shoulders, her dark cloak fluttering around her calves as the breeze catches it. Her cheeks are tinged pink from the cold, and her lips lift into a smile when she sees me.
But I can’t focus on her for long.
Because waiting behind her is something I never thought I would see again—not after the conflict that took the lives of so many.
A dragon.
Impossible.
It’s massive, with glossy black scales and eyes flecked with gold. Its wings are tucked against its body, and plumes of steam billow from its nostrils with each exhale in the cold air.
The dragon stares at me. I don’t move.
But Maeve does.
She walks toward me, light on her feet, not at all concerned with the creature lurking behind her. When she gets to me, she turns and gestures to the dragon with a flourish. “Severin, meet Raelan.”
The dragon blinks and exhales another plume of steam.
“Who,” I say very slowly, “is Raelan?”
“Alina’s fiancé. Future prince of Elarwyn. I’m sure you’ve seen him around Coven Crest; he’s the one who always looks on the verge of hurting someone.”
The future prince?
Now I recall of whom she speaks. I have indeed seen the bodyguard who follows Her Highness through the halls, never more than a few steps behind her. But it is not common knowledge that he’s a dragon shifter. Though I can understand why that would be kept a secret.
Slowly, I shift my gaze to Maeve. “And Raelan is here because . . . ?”
She smiles up at me, and the way the snow turns her eyes a vivid shade of violet almost takes my breath away. “He’s going to take us to the cottage.”
My brow furrows. “Cottage?”
Maeve reaches for my luggage bag, pulling it from my hand before I can stop her. “You’re asking too many questions. This is supposed to be a surprise, remember?”
I stay rooted to the spot as she carries my bag toward the dragon. Raelan. Seeing her so close to an apex predator makes me want to lunge forward and pull her away. My fangs ache, and my blood pumps hot and fast through my veins.
Raelan must scent the shift in me, for he meets my eyes with an expression I’m quite certain would be a smirk if he were wearing his human face.
I draw a breath and let it out in a sharp exhale, trying to banish the tension coiling tight in my shoulders.
Maeve places my luggage on a large boulder beside hers, then turns toward me, planting her hands on her hips. “Well? What are you waiting for?”
I glance down each of the crossroads. “Can we not just walk?” I ask.
Maeve’s lips tilt sideways. “The roads are snowed over, and the cottage is hours by carriage. I have no intention of walking all the way there.” Then one of her eyebrows arches up. “Are you afraid, Professor?”
At her words, the dragon lets out a low rumble.
I think he’s laughing at me.
My fingers curl into tight fists at my sides.
I’ve sailed the Charmed Sea. Have braved siren-filled waters and lived to tell the tale. Am I afraid now, in the face of a dragon?
“No,” I say. But Maeve keeps giving me that same look, and I’m quite certain she knows it’s a lie.
“Then let’s go.” She grabs our luggage and turns toward the dragon. Raelan unfurls one wing, lowering it so that she can walk up its length and settle into the space at the base of his neck.
I still haven’t moved.
Now they’re both staring at me.
“Severin D’Arques,” Maeve finally says, a hint of edge to her tone. “Get over here. He doesn’t bite.” She blinks, then leans over to meet Raelan’s huge glittering dark eye. “You don’t, right?”
Raelan rumbles again, sending a plume of steam billowing from his nostrils.
I cannot believe I’m about to climb onto the back of something that most believe to be extinct—that I believed to be extinct. As a historian, this unsettles me in many ways.
Finally, I force my feet to move. With every step I take, the dragon looms larger, until I have to tip my head all the way back to look up into his gold-flecked eyes. Maeve looks down at me, and she reaches to offer me her hand.
“You did say you trust me,” she says softly, one strand of purple hair floating across her cheek as she smiles at me.
That I did. And somehow, it’s still true.
I step onto Raelan’s wing, then reach for Maeve’s hand. My fingers close around hers, and she helps steady me as I scale the dragon and then settle behind her. Raelan’s body heat rises up through his scales, warming me despite the sharp nip in the air.
Maeve leans back slightly, her body fitting against my chest with gentle familiarity. I slip one arm around her waist, and our bond flares.
Raelan lifts both his wings out to the sides, their span causing his wing tips to brush the neighboring trees, knocking snow to the ground.
My heart rate skyrockets.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask as Raelan stands to his full height, making me grip Maeve’s waist for dear life.
Her only answer in an untethered laugh, one that feels at home in the wilds of winter.
Raelan begins to pump his wings. The sound is like thunder, and it causes the air to buffet around us, sending the snow churning chaotically in every direction. Then he launches himself into the air and takes flight. I almost scream.
The world drops out from beneath us. One moment it’s there, and the next, it’s gone.
I fear I’ve made a mistake.
I gasp, every muscle in my body clenching tight, my breath trapped in my lungs.
My arms wrap tight around Maeve’s waist, my legs hugging Raelan’s scales as he climbs higher and higher into the winter sky.
We slice through wisps of thin clouds that leave moisture clinging to my face.
The wind feels like it’s trying to tear me from Raelan’s back.
Just when I think I’m about to be flung to my death, Raelan evens out, his wings making soft fluttering sounds as they cut through the air.
And I make the terrible, terrible decision to look down.
From here, the land is a splotch of white and green beneath us, the forest stretching far off into the distance, trees frosted with snow. The glimpse makes me feel sick, and a wave of dizziness comes over me.
“Don’t look down,” Maeve says, as if she can feel me starting to panic. She places one hand over mine where it’s still wrapped around her waist, grounding me with her touch, and her voice is calm and sure as she says, “Look out. Isn’t it beautiful?”
I follow her gaze, looking forward over Raelan’s scaled head, and . . .
It is beautiful. And terrifying. It’s unlike anything I’ve seen in my many, many years of life. Like clinging to the very top of a ship’s mast as a storm rolls in, but so much better.
The sky is bigger than I ever realized. It’s like a whole new world up here, with the cold air cutting across my face, leaving dampness in its wake.
“It’s . . . astounding,” I whisper into Maeve’s ear.
Our bond tingles, warming the spot just beneath my sternum, and she settles back into me again.
Her hair floats in the wind, dancing around us, and I breathe in the scent of sage that clings to her.
Then I tip my head down and rest my forehead in the crook of her neck, calming for the first time since I saw the dragon waiting for me at the crossroads.
But then I remember something . . .
We still have to land.