Chapter Twenty-Two
Vanessa
For the second time ever, I climbed up the wing of a dragon to seat myself on his back. It wasn’t a sentence I’d ever thought I would compose, even in my head, but my life was very different than it had been just days before.
“Ready?” Vil asked in his musical dragon voice, lifting his wings, his legs coiling to jump.
“Is anyone ever actually ready?” I asked nervously, clutching the nearest spike that jutted from his back. It was warm to the touch, the ridges prominent but not sharp. “How often have you done this?”
“Never,” he admitted. “But that’s because I can fly on my own.”
“Exactly. You probably never stop to think about how scary it is if I were to fall off either because you can probably just change before you hit the ground, right?”
“Yes. But I would never let that happen to you,” he assured me.
“Thanks.” I took a deep breath, held it, then released it and all my nerves. “Okay. Let’s go.”
He leaped into the air without hesitation, his wings stroking downward rapidly as we swiftly gained height and speed, where it became easier and less work for the giant dragon to stay aloft.
The warm air helped, and he banked around a thermal vent that was so warm I actually started to sweat a little.
Using its heat, he could gain height even easier.
Once we reached “cruising altitude” —I had no idea what dragons called it, if they even had a term—we leveled off, and I was able to breathe evenly again.
“How are you doing back there?” he asked, the giant dragon's neck curling around so he could place his head close to mine.
“Fine, I guess!” I called back, clinging to the spike with sweaty palms. “Better than the first time.”
Vil-the-dragon laughed, and we banked around until we were on a collision course with Mount Drakonus.
The huge peak, jutting out from the middle of the land all on its own, was so gargantuan that nothing could provide an accurate comparison in my head.
I’d been to the Rockies and the Alps when I was younger. I’d seen large mountains.
They were matchsticks next to the giant that was Mount Drakonus. Ugly blue-gray clouds swirled around its upper reaches.
“Your God-King lives there?”
“Somewhere above the clouds, yes,” Vil said. “Only those meant to visit him will do so. All others will get lost in the clouds and be forced to land.”
I took that information in, listening carefully. I knew next to nothing about dragon culture or life, and whether or not I stayed with Vil, it was about time I started correcting those deficiencies.
I also ignored the fact that, by even asking the questions, I was opening myself up to the possibility of staying.
“It’s a beautiful place,” I said. “I can see why you’re so dedicated to it.”
“And I intend to keep it that way,” he said, fiercely proud and protective.
I pondered that. “You mean the Nine.”
I didn’t need to speak dragon to know I was right given how he tensed.
“Who are they?”
“A group created by my great-grandfather,” he said.
“Our clan was expanding rapidly throughout our portion of the realm. New villages were being created, and he needed help to manage it all. So he created the Nine, divvying up the Iron Clan lands into nine groups, and each one helped oversee the new territory.”
“That seems to make sense,” I said. “Nobody can rule without any sort of support system.”
“Agreed,” Vil said. “But instead of making them elected positions, he deemed they should be able to appoint their successors, much like the role of prince, although that has always gone to the firstborn son.”
“Okay. That seems in keeping with everything. So, where’s the issue?” I asked.
“In the details, which wasn’t discovered until later,” Vil said, baring his dragon teeth unhappily.
“A prince must have a mate, approved by the God-King, to become the prince. Otherwise, he must step aside. That pairing of male and female has always meant that a person must be ‘good enough’ to have a true mate to be the prince. Not so with the Nine. So those who desired power wormed their way into the positions. And then they began to try to take power away from the prince’s position. ”
“I see. And now, they’re actively trying to do away with you as the prince entirely.”
“Just about,” he agreed. “My father didn’t give them much leeway, and they know I’ll do even less.”
“Your father sounds like he was a good prince,” I said.
“He was.” Vil was silent. “What about your family?”
“My family?” I asked, surprised by the sudden change in topic.
Of course, he likely doesn’t want to talk about his parents, whom he recently lost. Have some compassion.
“Right, my family.” I thought about it, wondering if I could speak without revealing the truth about how things were now and just tell him how they used to be.
“Well, my father was the perfect traveling businessman. Always gone, across the country, across the ocean. One meeting after another. His paycheck came home and was spent by my mother. She has her country club membership and liked to make sure everyone knew it.”
“I’m sorry,” Vil said.
I shrugged, though he couldn’t see it. “They both loved my older sister and me. They never mistreated us. They just weren’t around much. My sister really raised me. I was mostly an afterthought to them. I’ve never asked, but I assume I was an accident since there are eight years between us.”
Vil growled, clearly upset by that.
“It’s fine,” I said, slapping one of his scales. “I’ve long since stopped being bothered by it. I get cards for my birthday and Christmas, and my sister has me over for the holidays, but that’s about it, really.”
I fell quiet. The truth was, I got cards from my mother, and it was she who I saw at my sister's.
We didn’t talk about my father anymore.
“I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories,” he rumbled apologetically.
I laughed. “It’s a perfectly valid question.
I know about your family. It’s not a bad memory.
I just don’t have those glowing reviews of my parents and family life.
I love my sister and her kids. They’re amazing, and her husband is pretty cool, too.
But my parents were just … there. The grandkids get more attention than I ever did, but I never lacked for anything growing up. ”
“Except a warm home,” he said. “Something I intend to ensure we have.”
“Easy there, tiger,” I said, again patting his neck scales. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself.”
I didn’t tell him about the warm fuzzies his comment gave me, completely against my will.
Having a partner who wanted to be a loving, attentive father was definitely something that had become a larger factor in what I looked for in a man the older I got.
Hearing his passion for it sparked something in me.
Down, girls, I mentally told my ovaries. Down.
I had them under control for now, but if Vil continued to make himself so appealing, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold out. He was saying and doing everything right, and the case for us being soulmates continued to build. Which was crazy. Fate wasn’t actually real.
Was it?