35. Lucy
Lucy
Bread cut by a stranger’s hand carries the stranger’s appetite, and you’ll hunger for things you’ve never wanted.
Isat on the edge of my bed, cursing the fog that wouldn’t let me see how long I’d have to wait until sunset.
In Fuerlis, every city had bells. You could count on them. Even in the belly of the few trains we used when we’d traveled to my brother’s Nexus games, you could hear them marking the hours.
Here, there was nothing but gray haze and guesswork.
I told myself I was excited to see Riot because I had questions. About the shadows that circled my scales. About the witch who’d been murdered. About what we might do next now that our one lead was gone.
I longed for the escape of these walls, not the man. I didn’t yearn for his forehead pressed to mine. For his calm, steady nature, for his command over my control, for him.
Questions. That was all.
I left my room a little early, passing by the kitchen on my way out. Voices drifted through the open doorway and I slowed without meaning to.
“—just a pinch more cinnamon,” Papillia, the Keep’s cook, was saying. “That’s what makes hers so light.”
“I think we’re completely out. There was none at the grocers’. His shelves are almost bare.”
“Holiday prep?” the cook asked lightly.
Baylor’s laugh sounded nervous. As if he didn’t want to tell her what I’d begun to suspect. The food supply in Luneth Hollow was running short.
“I don’t think it’s the cinnamon anyway,” Baylor continued. “I think she uses something else. Something she’s not telling anyone about.”
The cook gasped. “You think Maren’s hiding another secret ingredient?”
“I think Maren’s been making honey cakes longer than either of us know, and she’s not about to give away her secrets to the competition.”
The cook laughed, the sound warm and a little flustered. “I’m hardly competition.”
Baylor’s voice lowered in a conspiratorial tone, that had nothing at all to do with baking. “You could be. With the right help.” He was absolutely flirting with her… again.
“And I suppose you’re offering to be that help?”
“Only if you promise to let me taste-test every batch.”
I could practically hear Papillia blushing.
It made sense. Like Tavian and Emrys and every other male dragon I’d met, Baylor was handsome and charming.
And according to Emrys, who loved gossip as much as he loved Calix, Baylor had been quietly in love with the Keep’s cook for years.
It was why he made the trips to the outlying farmlands north of the city, bringing back fresh food that kept the Keep running.
All for her. He probably didn’t give a shit about those honey cakes. I secretly adored that.
I kept walking before they noticed me eavesdropping. The path to the wall was familiar now, but I kept looking over my shoulder as I went, making sure no one was following, making sure I was alone.
When I reached the edge of the frozen fog, I waited. And waited. Until the collar tugged. I shifted and launched into the sky, back into Fuerlis.
HUNT.
My collar’s command was immediate and absolute. My wings beat faster, carrying me toward—what was I hunting?
The thought slipped away before I could hold it. There had been something. A reason I’d wanted to leave Luneth Hollow. Questions I needed answers to. But the collar burned and the memories scattered like ash in the wind.
Then I saw him.
Riot. Flying back and forth across the sky like he was pacing. Wings beating in steady rhythm, purple scales catching what little light remained as the sun dipped below the horizon.
The sight of him made something in my chest pull tight.
He was beautiful. All power and grace and controlled fury, moving through the air like he’d been born to own it.
And when he turned and saw me, the way his entire body shifted toward mine made me feel like I was the only thing in the world worth noticing.
I scanned the long line of him, the way the muscle moved beneath those dark scales with every beat of his wings, and told myself I was only admiring the strength of a fellow dragon. The heat that curled low in me betrayed the lie.
The collar burned against my throat.
But I let the beast rise. Let her take the reins instead of wrestling for control. The woman inside didn’t disappear—she, I was still there, watching, thinking—but for the first time since the collar had claimed my nights, we weren’t at war with each other.
We were one.
His voice filled my mind, warm and steady and pushing away the worst of the Ossira’s pull the way he always managed to do. “Follow me, beautiful beast. I think it’s time you met the Fury sisters.”
I faltered mid-flight, nearly dropping altitude before I caught myself.
“Sanctuary Isle? No outsiders are allowed there.”
“You’re not an outsider. You’re with me.”
I tried to retort. To argue, but lost in the fear that took me, I’d let the magic slip and his voice faded from my mind. Speaking to him in beast form had only been a chore the first time. Since then, it took only the thought of Riot to allow him in.
But the second that contact broke, the second trepidation at meeting Aureth’s sisters on the wake of her death hit me, I could think of nothing but running. Of going back to a place where the dragon needed to remain a secret.
I drew back, the black depths of the ocean roaring below me as if it were answering the storm within.
I was losing control of the dragon I’d only just accepted.
Something deep within me knew this was not a place I would be welcomed.
No one was allowed to be there. The purple dragon was wrong.
The collar tightening on my throat was proof.
I needed to turn. There would be no help there.
I spun away. I had a purpose. A singular focus. A hunt to complete.
A roar shattered the air.
I looked back.
Riot was right there. Right beside me, his eyes full of worry and compassion and things I couldn’t possibly understand. The intensity in his gaze pulled me under, and I lost myself in the thought of him again.
“You cannot close the door, my Tilouri. Focus on me.” The word was unfamiliar, but it settled into me like it had always belonged there.
He guided me back on track, turning back toward the Sanctuary, his voice steady in my mind as he spoke.
“A dragon enters the world already belonging to someone. The Fyrian—the bond between dragon and Fury—is written into us before we draw our first breath. We know who we belong to from the moment we exist.”
I listened, the collar’s pull fading into background noise compared to the deep comfort of his.
“The dragon’s second soul bond, the Tilouri, is different.
It’s the space left open for a mate. Not fated or forced, but possible if one allows it.
Most dragons never open that door. We’re creatures of tremendous loyalty and terrible stubbornness, and protecting one person with your entire existence leaves very little room for love. ”
My chest tightened.
“The day you shifted in that cave, I thought I knew. But my soul was at war—the Fyrian bond to Aureth pulling against something else. When she died, when that bond was gone, there was something lingering in the ache of losing.” He paused.
“We’re mates, Lucette. You’re my Tilouri… and I am yours, if you’ll have me.”
If not for the steady beat of our wings, I might’ve dropped into the ocean. “We can’t be. I’m not a dragon. I’m a shifter. Swarming in shadows you’re too polite to point out. I’m different. They cannot know of my existence, that I break the law of the land the Furies claimed.”
“Magic wrote the law of this land, not the Sisters,” he said gently. “But if they know a way to free you from the collar, I believe we should try.”
I’d never been so lost in the unknown. So consumed by everything I didn’t understand and couldn’t control. There was a world where he could be mine, but in that world, I wasn’t controlled by the sunset. What kind of life would that be for either of us?
“I can see you’re conflicted,” he said, his voice softer now.
“You can close the door if that’s what you want.
You don’t have to claim me. I will still help you.
Still protect you. I’ll give you all the time and space in the world.
” He flew closer, his wing nearly brushing mine.
“But I’m begging you to come with me. To try for help.
In many ways, this is my family, Lucette.
And I need you to trust me enough to let them try.
Trust that I removed the hinges and tore down the wall.
There is no door left for me to close. Only you. ”
I looked at him, this dragon who’d waited every night, who’d given me silence when the Ossira tried to take everything, who’d promised to find me again and kept that promise.
“I can only promise you tonight, Riot.”
“Then give me tonight.” His voice was steady, patient. “And tomorrow, if you’re willing, give me tomorrow. And the night after that, if you’ll let me. I’m not asking for forever all at once, beautiful beast. Just this moment. And then the next.”
The collar burned against my throat, reminding me of the hunt I was supposed to be completing. But Riot’s presence pushed it back, kept it manageable.
“Okay,” I said finally. “Tonight. But I have questions.”
He chuckled, picking up the pace. “Fine, but we need to move significantly faster if we’re going to be there and back on time. We don’t need a repeat of what happened in Brathen.”
He was quiet for a moment, and in that silence I circled the questions I wanted to ask, but before I could speak, he did.
“There’s something you should know. The Sisters don’t live there openly anymore.
No one knows who they are, even in their own home.
They appear as fury-born, just like everyone else. ”
“Then how will we find them?”
“Trust that I know where to look.”