34. Jerrid
JERRID
As the gigantic fireball hurtled toward him, Jerrid’s thoughts were strangely silent.
Calm. Focused.
Ever since he had ripped himself out of the nightmare realm, his dragon self had gone still. It had been a quiet but desperate flight back to Ava. He could still feel that dragon side of him, but something had changed.
Something had shifted so that he no longer heard the distinct voice in his head.
Just his own thoughts, thinking the things Dragon would usually hurl his way.
The little taunts and rebuttals. The drive to keep pushing onward.
The fuel behind the simmering rage and worry that kept his wings in motion. Those things were all from Dragon.
But now they were from him, too.
Behind him, the shadow screamed, and shadows flashed as the tentacles recoiled for another strike.
Jerrid didn’t care, his mind focused on the fireball, on the silence.
Maybe it was as Brynja had said. These things had always been a part of him, just a piece that he’d shorn off and shoved to the edge of his mind.
And now that he’d put himself back together, he could no longer hear that distinct voice.
It was blissfully quiet…and a little lonely.
The fireball would slam into him in moments if he didn’t redirect it, but he was at peace with his decision.
He would destroy the shadow today or die trying.
His entire life had prepared him for this moment. It felt so right, the wings sprouting from his back, the dragon scales rippling over his skin as he fully embraced his shift, the heat billowing in his chest as he spun to position himself at the last possible second.
The fireball hurtled past him, and Jerrid spat a violent blast of dragon fire after it. His flames flew faster, wrapping around the fireball and exploding past it to slice through tentacles that whipped to defend itself, leaving a clear path to the heart of the shadow.
The combined magic ripped through the dark magic like a knife through soft butter.
He sensed the panic flooding from his enemy as their final attack met its intended mark. The fireball drove straight into the heart of darkness. The shadow broke like shattering glass.
And the world exploded in fire, smoke, and ash.
A shockwave pummeled into Jerrid and flung him backwards. He sailed through the air, a roar wrenching from his throat. His body hammered into the ground, embedding him into the soil. Dry leaves crunched around him as he shifted, groaning, peeling his long neck off the crackling leaves.
He lay only a few feet from the collapsed forms of Ava and the dark elf prince. Too weak to maintain his shift, he partially returned to his human form and crawled toward them, throwing up his wings to shield them as ash and molten sparks drifted from the sky.
The sparks singed his leathery wings, but he gritted his teeth and endured it.
He stared down at Ava beneath the shadow of his own wings. She wasn’t moving. His heart began to thunder in his chest, pulsing beneath his skin.
He hadn’t fought this hard to lose her now, at the end.
He reached to brush his fingers against her cheek, sliding them over her jaw to rest on the gentle curve of her throat.
Her blood pulsed beneath his fingertips.
His gaze flew back to her face as her eyes blinked lazily up at him. A relieved sob clawed at the back of his throat—such an unmanly thing to do at a time like this.
“Hey there,” he rasped, his smile weak and trembling. “Glad to see you’re still with me.”
“My…my chest hurts,” she rasped, wincing as she pressed a hand over her heart.
He shoved her hand aside and tugged the collar of her tunic a little so that he could search for a wound. Her collarbone and the upper swell of her breasts looked pristine.
“I don’t see anything.” He hurriedly shoved her collar back into place, his face growing hot when he realized how inappropriate that had been.
But she just blinked up at him and continued to rub the spot. “It’s getting better, I think. Maybe I just used too much magic.”
“You did use a lot of magic, Meat Pasty.” He frowned down at her, worried she might burst into flames or vanish before his eyes.
“Meat Pasty again. I’m glad to see Dragon’s still in there, even if he is still comparing me to food.” Her mouth curved into a smile, her eyes swimming with tears. “You aren’t going to eat me, are you?”
The dark elf prince pushed himself up on one elbow, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m confused. Who is food?”
The prince’s head bumped against the underside of Jerrid’s wing, and Jerrid cleared his throat.
“Best sit still for a few minutes, Your Highness. The air is a bit unpleasant right now. I’m trying to keep it off of you. There are embers blowing around out there.”
The prince drew his knees toward his chest and sat with his hands linked, his arms holding his bent knees in place. Ava sat up too, groaning with the effort.
Jerrid leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You were incredible, Meat Pasty.”
Her cheeks darkened, and she snuck a look toward the prince, who thankfully couldn’t see them. But even if he could have, Jerrid wouldn’t have cared.
He’d seen the prince kissing his dune elf bride and knew that the elf wasn’t shy about public displays of affection.
“Meat Pasty?” the prince echoed with a slight frown. “That’s not…very nice. Is he talking to you, Ava?”
“Yes.” Ava threw back her head and laughed. “I didn’t like it at first either. But it grows on you.”
Her gaze met Jerrid’s and held, and the heat in her eyes said things her mouth did not. His chest warmed as he imagined asking her about those secret things later, when they were alone.
“I’ll take your word for it.” The prince lowered his chin to his chest, his shoulders drooping with exhaustion.
Thick layers of ash coated Jerrid’s wings when he finally dared to peel them back, allowing the cool night air to rush over them, chilling their sweaty skin. Ava and the prince both scrambled to their feet. Jerrid turned to face the ruins, and his stomach clenched at the sight that awaited them.
The ruins had been demolished, nothing more than a pile of rubble. Ash continued to float on the air, and a few embers still lit up the darkness like tiny fireflies floating in a lazy breeze.
Ava’s breath caught in her throat, and the prince snapped his face toward her.
“What is it?” he demanded, his fingers curling into fists. “What do you see?”
Ava didn’t answer. She dashed forward, tripping over debris as she raced to get back to the tower. Ash swirled around her, coating her dark hair and shoulders.
“It’s the tower,” Jerrid explained gruffly. “It’s collapsed.”
The prince exhaled loudly. “And the women?”
Jerrid didn’t answer and left the prince behind, jogging after Ava as he allowed his wings to drape around his shoulders like a leathery cloak. He climbed over jagged chunks of stone and broken timbers, the wood charred and smoking. Some bits still glowed with fire, some crimson and others blue.
His belly writhed as if filled with snakes.
His dragon fire and the dark elf magic had caused as much damage as the shadow itself.
A form rose from behind the rubble, and Jerrid recognized the lithe figure by the tense set of her narrow shoulders.
“Brynja,” he called, lifting his hand.
She raised a hand in response, climbing over the boulder to stand on top of it. “Did you kill it? Please tell me that thing is finally dead!”
Jerrid barked a laugh. “It’s gone.”
“For real this time?” the girl growled, hands settled low on her hips.
“I think so?” He cast a look around at the empty clearing and searched inside himself.
But his mind felt wholly his, untainted by darkness or nightmares. And the silence felt so good.
“It’s not in my head anymore, at least,” he offered as more evidence.
Brynja slid down a large slab of rock, and her boots hit the ground with a thud. Ava swept her into a hug. The human girl drew back at first, but then she patted Ava on the back, arching an eyebrow at Jerrid.
“Is she okay?” she asked with a wry smile.
Ava pulled back with a laugh. “I’m fine. I’m so glad you’re okay. When I saw the tower had collapsed—” She broke off as she turned to survey the damage. “The others?”
Brynja stepped back, her mouth set in a grim line. “I think everyone got out in time. Sound off!”
“Here!” someone chirped from their right, and a figure emerged from behind a pile of smoking wooden timbers.
Another girl coughed and sat up, covered in ashes. “Here!”
A chorus of voices broke over them, girls and children emerging from their hiding places, all of them covered in a combination of blood, soot, grime, and ash, many of them with tear stains streaking their dirty faces.
Brynja’s gaze skittered past Jerrid, and her eyes narrowed as Prince Haryk emerged from behind him, moving slowly to find his way across the ground. Several of the girls gasped and recoiled.
Brynja’s hand settled on the hilt of her dagger.
“Easy, everyone,” Jerrid said in a low, warning tone as he lifted a palm toward Brynja and widened his stance. “The prince is on our side. He helped defeat the monster.”
Prince Haryk froze as if he had heard the layered edge in Jerrid’s voice.
Brynja’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps. But now that the monster is gone, what’s to stop him from becoming our enemy again?”
The prince turned his face toward the sound of her voice. “I am not your enemy.”
Snorts and growls of outrage rippled around the destroyed camp. Jerrid’s weary body didn’t want another confrontation, not so soon, but he didn’t know what choice he would have if the girls forced his hand.
He had watched this dark elf prince fight almost to his death tonight to protect these girls, and he couldn’t let him come to harm now and live with himself, not when the prince had risked so much to help them.
“Brynja,” Ava began in a quiet, pained voice as she too moved to put herself between her prince and the danger. “We are alive right now because of him. We would not have been able to defeat the shadow by ourselves. We nearly died as it was. All of us.”