Chapter 32 #2
The part of me that lacks common sense is filled with hope that maybe the guys are my mates. I’m a dragon, just like they are, so it’d make sense if we’re mates. At least, more sense than a flight of dragons mating with a white tiger shifter.
But I’d already know if they were my mates if that were the case. Shifters find their mates by smell, and the guys don’t smell like anything in particular to me. Even with Azrael’s illusion to hide their scents, I think I’d still be able to tell if they were.
I shut down that na?ve part of me that hopes something like that could happen. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that life always disappoints. There’s no point in hoping. All hope does is get me hurt.
Sighing at myself, I focus on the nature surrounding me as we trek back to their house. Or, at least, I assume we’re going back to their house.
I’m lost in my swirling thoughts about mates, the guys, and when they inevitably find their mate, no matter how hard I try not to think about it. I’m surprised when we walk through the iron gates to their house, having completely zoned out for the entire walk.
The guys are talking quietly among themselves while giving me space to process everything. I’m sure they assume I’m thinking about being a dragon, not managing the silly disappointment that we aren’t mates.
Annoyed at myself, I stomp down the walkway, through the garage, and into their house, my footfalls angrier and harder than they need to be.
Once inside their house again, I pause, unsure where they want to go. Azrael bushes past me and leads everyone into the living room. He gracefully sits down on the very edge of the sectional, and the rest of the guys arrange themselves scattered across the plush seating.
When I just stand there awkwardly, unsure where to sit, Colt takes pity on me. With a half smile aimed in my direction, he pats the cushion between him and Rook. Walking over, I plop down between the two of them.
There’s a long stretch of awkward silence as none of us really knows what to say.
“So, I’m sure you have lots of questions.” Colt waits for my nod of confirmation before continuing. “Well, feel free to ask them. We’ll answer them all to the best of our ability.”
I don’t really know where to start. I want to know everything, so it’s hard to pick just one thing.
Realizing Remy never got the chance to explain earlier, I start with, “What’s a mud dragon?”
Remy’s eyes go wide as we all turn to look at him. He rubs a hand on the back of his neck and pulls a tennis ball out of his hoodie pocket with the other.
He bounces the ball on the floor as he says, “Um, basically, my secondary ability is being able to control earth-related things. So, I can move dirt, rocks, plants, land, and more around with my magic. Oh, and my dragon really loves to roll around in the mud.”
Hal grins at me before turning to Remy with a raised brow. “Don’t forget that they used to sacrifice virgins to one of your kind in Rome.”
Remy rolls his eyes. “Yes, a mud dragon used to protect a village just outside of Rome thousands of years ago. In exchange for defending the town, he required a virgin to be sent up with tasty food every month. If the virgin wasn’t turned on by his dragon form, he sent her back down.
If she was, well, he showed her a good time and sent her to live elsewhere. He was a weird dude, from what I hear.”
“Yeah, and all the villagers thought he was eating the poor girls who had ‘impure thoughts,’” Hal helpfully supplies.
Remy looks a little embarrassed. “Mud dragons are pretty common, but he was definitely the most famous.”
I snort. “That’s a fun bit of mud dragon lore. Weird but fun.”
At my response, Remy looks relieved, as if he thought I would judge him for what someone like him did thousands of years ago.
When no one says anything, I realize they’re waiting on me to ask another question. “How do you know I’m a dragon?”
Hal’s mouth tilts up in a small smile. “Your eyes turn to neon-green when you experience strong emotions. The signature defining trait of dragon shifters in their human form is that their eyes glow an electric, neon version of their normal eye color, instead of the amber of regular shifters.”
Well, that explains why Hal and Azrael were kind of freaked out when they saw my eyes the other night. “Why haven’t I shifted into a dragon yet? I’ve been able to shift into plenty of other creatures.”
Colt’s ice-blue eyes bounce between mine for a moment, like he’s trying to figure out what I’m feeling just by looking at me.
“To unlock your dragon, you have to drink a valor alpha’s blood.
Without that, you can’t shift—just like wolves can’t shift without wolfsbane.
What kind of shifters did you grow up with? ”
“White tigers. But why can I shift into everything else?”
“My best guess is that it has to do with the type of dragon you are. You’re what we call a Vereselen, or a shape-shifting dragon,” Colt explains. “Your type of dragon is incredibly rare, so there’s not a whole lot known about your abilities. Did you drink the tiger lily potion at eighteen?”
“Yeah.” I now realize I probably shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t know I was anything other than a tiger shifter at the time, though. I’m just glad the potion didn’t seem to have harmed me at all.
Colt shoves a hand through his onyx hair.
“I think that must’ve unlocked your secondary ability of shifting, then.
Only an alpha’s blood can unlock your dragon form, but your specific affinity must be unlockable another way.
We’d really only know the answer if we could track down another Vereselen, but the only one we knew left our valor a while ago. ”
I feel a surge of disappointment at that. It’d be cool to meet someone who can shift like I do, but that doesn’t sound like it’ll be happening anytime soon.
“What type of dragons are you guys?” I know Remy is a mud dragon, but I have no idea what the others are. Or even what types of dragons exist.
Hal perks up at the question. “Rook, Remy, and I are all common dragons. I’m a fire dragon, and Rook is an ice dragon. Az and Colt have more rare types. Colt is a shadow dragon, and Az is a lightning dragon.”
I would’ve thought Remy and Colt would be similar dragon types because they’re identical twins. I guess I don’t really understand what decides the types. “What determines what type of dragon you are?”
Remy shrugs. “Genetics and luck. Colt and I have the same genetics, but he had the luck of getting a cooler dragon than I did. Although, mud dragons are still pretty sweet.”
I huff a laugh at Remy’s explanation. “Why wasn’t I raised with other dragons?”
“That’s something we don’t know.” Rook props his chin on his hand and looks thoughtful. “How sure are you your mom is your real mom? It would be unusual for such a rare dragon to come from an interspecies pairing, but it’s not impossible.”
“Pretty sure.” Unfortunately. I would love for someone else to be my mother, but that’s unlikely. “She was pregnant for the nine months before I was born. Wren remembered it, and I’ve seen pictures of her at that time.”
He tilts his head back and forth as he considers what I said. “I suppose you could be a changeling, but it’s more likely, if the man you grew up with is a white tiger, that your father isn’t your real dad. You probably inherited your dragon side from your birth father.”
I feel a little shell-shocked at him casually dropping the whole your-dad-isn’t-your-real-dad thing. I’m not distraught or anything. The father I grew up with is almost as bad as my mother, so it would actually be a relief not to be related to him.
But that means I have a real dad out there somewhere. And he might actually like me, unlike the parents who raised me and despise me.
It’s more likely that he’ll hate me, though, so there’s no point in getting excited. It’d probably be best if we never meet, honestly.
I’m not going to be able to wrap my brain around it right now, so I change the subject. “I don’t really know anything about being a dragon. Since there’s no way I’m going to learn everything right now, what is the most important stuff for me to know about it?”
Azrael surprises me by rumbling, “The most important thing to know about being a dragon is that we’re always in danger. The fae have been hunting our kind for tens of thousands of years. They are always on the hunt and will spare no opportunity to kill you once you unlock your dragon form.”
“Why are they hunting us?” I ask.
“Because they killed the magic in their world.” Colt’s eyes darken, and he grinds his teeth before blowing out a breath and continuing.
“Probably twenty thousand years ago at this point, fae began to industrialize and adopt technology at a rapid pace. They destroyed their natural world in pursuit of progress, much like humans are doing to this world, and the magic in their planet’s core slowly started to die.
“As their realm’s magic weakened, so, too, did their fae magic. Even with their rampant industrialization and adoption of technology, fae still relied heavily on magic to do everything, including powering their tech. Without their magic, they really aren’t fae.
“When they realized their magic was dying, fae were desperate for a solution. They didn’t want to stop industrializing, so, instead, they combed other worlds for ways to siphon magic from those places. The only successful method they found to increase their magic was dragon blood.
“While our blood doesn’t heal their dying world, it gives individual fae the magic they crave.
So, they’ve been slaughtering dragons for thousands upon thousands of years to boost their own magic.
Thanks to this wholesale massacre, dragons and valors are few and far between.
We’re at the brink of extinction.” Colt’s hands are clenched into fists, and he looks like he’s seconds away from punching something or someone.
I have the urge to go over to him and give him a hug, but I don’t know how receptive he’d be to that.
Everything he just told me is a lot to wrap my head around. While it’s cool that I should be able to turn into a dragon, it’s way less cool that dragons are dying out. It’s a lot to process that I’m going to be hunted for my blood for the rest of my life.
Swallowing hard, I ask, “What can we do about it?”
Remy gives me a sad smile and a shrug. “While our blood is the only thing that gives fae magic, our scales are the only thing from this realm that can kill the bastards. In dragon form, we’re lethal to them.
And in human form, we use dragon-scale weapons, harvested from fallen dragons, to kill them.
Other than fighting the bands of fae we come across, there’s not much we can do.
We’re simply don’t have the numbers to really make a difference. ”
“I think you’ve asked enough questions for today,” Azrael growls, his jaw tightly clenched. “I have places to be. Do you want to unlock your dragon now or not?”
I don’t know what I did to piss him off this time, but I’m not surprised I did something. The man is perpetually annoyed with my existence.
“Yeah, I want to. What do I need to do?”
He gives me a droll look. “Drink my blood, little bird. I’m the only valor alpha around for hundreds of miles, so I don’t know who else you were hoping would offer up their blood.”
“You’re the alpha?” I ask in surprise, even though I’m pretty sure he told me that the other night. Our conversation is kind of hazy in my mind, although I can remember most of it.
He huffs. “Yes. Now, do you want to do this or not?”
I give him a sharp nod. “Yes.”
He stands up and holds out his hand to me. I push to my feet and hesitantly place my hand in his. He leads me up the stairs without another word.