24. Jerrid
JERRID
He was going to shift. On purpose.
Nerves clawed at his insides, his limbs jittery and rubbery. He’d never given Dragon the amount of control he was about to give him. This wasn’t an accidental shift, a desperate attempt to preserve life, or to escape danger. This was giving up his freedom once and for all.
And he had a feeling that he would never be the same. Would Dragon ever relinquish control once he had it?
You need to do this, Dragon said, an irritable edge to his thoughts. We need to do this for Ava.
“I know,” Jerrid snapped back, just as irritably. “I already agreed to this, so just shut up and let me do what needs to be done.”
Dragon fell into a sulky silence, but Jerrid could feel him brooding beneath the surface.
Looking small but determined, Ava stood with her arms wrapped around her waist as Jerrid shoved the last of the supplies into his satchel. He would have to step into the woods to remove his clothes and pack those on the very top right before he shifted.
When he stood, he realized Ava was staring at him with a worried wrinkle between her eyebrows. The first rays of the sun were beginning to lighten the eastern sky beyond the treetops. It was time to say goodbye.
Now or never.
He shuffled toward her, unsure what he wanted to say… Worse, unsure what he could say.
“We’ll be back as quickly as we can.”
“I know.” She stared into his face, eyes flicking back and forth.
He would have given anything to know what she was thinking. A surge of jealousy swept through him that Dragon was privileged to these things while he was deliberately excluded.
I can tell you what she’s thinking…
“No. Don’t!” Jerrid spat out the words without realizing it.
Ava jumped and leaned back slightly, her frown increasing.
“Not you. Dragon. He’s being…annoying.” He could tell by her expression that this did nothing to allay her concerns. “Look, just hold on until we get back, all right? Do whatever you have to do. Just don’t trust Talos.”
She compressed her lips but nodded. “And I need you to do something for me.”
The gravitas in her tone sent a shiver down his spine.
“Whatever happens, however this ends—” Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat before continuing. “I don’t want you blaming yourself.”
His breath caught in his chest, as if giant fingers had pinched his lungs closed. “Don’t talk like that. Things are going to work out. You’re strong enough for this. You and Dragon can keep the shadow at bay until I get back.”
She turned her face away, her arms tightening around her waist. “Of course. Just in case, I want you to know that I’m okay with all of this. I don’t blame you. Or Dragon. Or anyone. That’s all I am saying.”
He studied her profile, fringed in the golden light of the rising sun. Her tone… He didn’t like it. If he didn’t know better, he’d guess she was giving up. Preparing for the worst.
She’s just being proactive, Dragon whispered. Trying to get you in a better headspace because you’re a mess.
But Jerrid shook his head. It was more than that. Something else was going on, something she wasn’t telling him. His fingers itched to reach out and catch her elbow, maybe even to simply brush against her skin. Featherlight and gentle.
But he didn’t dare. He wouldn’t lay a finger on her again unless he was convinced she wanted him to. Him. Not Dragon.
And here we go again, Dragon muttered, stirring restlessly.
Ava sighed, squared her shoulders, and faced him, a bright smile painted on her face. “We’ll be here waiting when you get back. Just trust Dragon, and…fly true, Jerrid.”
He nodded, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. How true they flew would be a test of how well he and Dragon managed to work together. And they’d never been good at that.
Don’t blame me for that…
He hesitated a moment longer, waiting to see if Ava had anything else to say. The way she kept staring at him made him hope that more weighed on her mind, but she kept her mouth tightly sealed as if keeping her thoughts safely guarded.
And he wasn’t about to let Dragon invade her mind to steal secrets from her. She deserved her privacy. He wouldn’t steal that from her even if his life depended on it.
So noble. Dragon yawned noisily.
Jerrid tamped down his reluctance. It was time to go, and he needed to just leave. She wasn’t going to say anything. Wasn’t going to bring up their ill-timed kiss that they’d conveniently ignored ever since it happened.
Maybe it was a mistake, and she knew it was a mistake, and she planned to pretend it never happened. That might have been for the best.
It was for the best.
And yet he could imagine himself reaching out, catching her around the waist, and pulling her close so that he could inhale the scent of her hair, so he could press a kiss to her forehead and swear on his life that he’d come back for her…
Blithering bones, I already told her all of that!
Jerrid started and took a step back, shaking with a sudden surge of anger as he spun to sling his satchel over his shoulder.
He didn’t care if Ava was elvish, and he was human. Didn’t care if their kingdoms were on the brink of another war. Didn’t care how impossible it might seem to build a relationship during these times. But he did care about Dragon.
He couldn’t have any kind of relationship as long as Dragon was in the picture.
So, he walked away, striding into the forest and leaving Ava and all those foolish dreams behind. He had a feeling he’d never see her again with his own two eyes. When he came back, if he came back…
He wouldn’t be the same.
Once a safe distance from the camp, he removed his clothes and packed them in his satchel.
Pain lanced through his body as Dragon initiated the shift.
The air felt cold against his exposed flesh, but he ground his teeth together and focused on what needed to be done. He had to do this. This had to work.
Stop working so hard, Dragon snarled. You always make it harder than it has to be!
“How am I supposed to let it happen if I don’t work for it?” Jerrid snapped back. “It’s not like you’ve ever made this easy. It hurts, curse you.”
It won’t hurt if you just get out of the way and let me handle it. Just relax. Close your eyes. Invite me in. I need to feel your thoughts, know them…
No. He couldn’t make himself that vulnerable. Couldn’t think about Ava making herself that vulnerable to Dragon so that he could use her body. It made him want to be sick that he—they—had taken such liberties with her soul.
He twisted to the side and retched into the brittle leaves.
Dragon cursed soundly. That’s not how it was at all. She wanted me to be there.
Jerrid spat onto the ground, bracing his palms against the damp soil. “She didn’t know what she was doing. She’s an innocent, and you violated her.”
I did nothing of the sort. I didn’t exactly ask permission, granted, but I made sure she wanted me to be there, and I didn’t go anywhere she didn’t want me to go. Now stop whining and just shift!
“Not until we get this all out into the open. Do you hear me? No more skulking around in my brain, threatening to take over and eat people—”
I never actually intended to eat anyone, you know. I just ate jackrabbits and stuff. A dragon’s got to eat.
“Then why the blazes did you make it so difficult?”
Because you would have just shut me out if I hadn’t made a fuss. It was the only way to keep your attention. You would have put me in a box and forgotten about me long ago…
Was that sadness Jerrid detected in his tone? He could almost taste the flavor of Dragon’s grief, his hurt, as if it were sitting on his tongue and not resting in his mind.
“I never asked for this,” Jerrid began, unsure what he could or should say.
Everything Dragon had accused him of was true.
“I never asked to be a shifter, and suddenly you just woke up in my mind one day, and I couldn’t control you. I was scared. People got hurt.”
I never meant to hurt anyone. I couldn’t control it either, you know.
Jerrid sank back on his heels, frowning. How had he not known that? He’d always assumed Dragon was in complete control. He was so confident and sure of himself.
If you can’t be in control, pretend you are. At least everyone will respect you until you figure it out.
Jerrid snorted. “That was a really bad plan.”
I admit it didn’t work out so well for me.
“You can say that again.”
He leaned his head back and stared up at the lightening sky. A hint of pink now warmed the gray above them, the treetops stark against the light. They were running out of time. They needed to take flight as soon as possible.
We can’t leave Meat Pasty alone any longer than necessary.
“I know.” Jerrid inhaled a deep, ragged breath.
It was time to rip off the bandages and do this thing. They couldn’t change the past, the things they’d done and said to one another, the battles they’d fought, the hurt…
But they could move forward. And someone had to take the first step.
The void yawned before him, terrifying with possibility. But if Dragon was telling the truth…maybe, just maybe, things would get better. Maybe they could build on this and somehow learn to work together.
He rolled his shoulders, relaxing his body, thinking of himself turning into an oozy puddle. Fluid and calm and malleable. He thought of Ava, standing with her arms around her thin waist, her eyes dark and haunted as she waited for him to come back.
The tension seeped back into his muscles.
For crying out loud. Dragon yanked at his thoughts, snarling. I’ll do it. Like I always do.
“No, I don’t want—”
But Dragon wrenched control from Jerrid’s fingertips. Scales rippled down his arms, hissing and crackling. His bones creaked as they expanded and changed shape, pain sizzling with every mutation.
He ground his teeth together, hating Dragon. Hating himself.
This wasn’t what he wanted, nor was it how he wanted to do it. But why had he thought today would be any different from the hundreds of days that had come before?
This was hopeless.
As the change stole his body from him, shifting his thoughts into the background, into the darkness, he accepted the truth. That he and Dragon would always be on opposite sides of this battle.
They would never become one, he would die from dragon sickness, and this entire quest would end in ruin.