Chapter 25 Elowen
ELOWEN
I have no idea what I was expecting.
Something large, certainly. Something dangerous. Something that might send me running for the door despite everything I’ve said about wanting to meet him.
But nothing—nothing—could have prepared me for this.
I watch as Theron begins to change and at first, it doesn’t seem real.
It’s too much, too fast—too strange for my mind to grasp.
His body Shifts and reshapes—growing and stretching in ways that should be impossible.
I hear the faint, awful sound of bones moving beneath skin, of joints sliding into new positions, and I can’t help the small gasp that escapes me.
But I don’t look away—I can’t. What I’m seeing is mesmerizing—I couldn’t look away even if I knew the sight would make me blind.
Theron’s shoulders broaden, his spine arching as something pushes outward from within him. His skin changes next—darkening, hardening, though not in the way I expect. It’s not rough or jagged. Instead, it gleams as though light is catching on metal—each new scale forming with a subtle shimmer.
Tarnished silver. The color of his scales is the same color of his eyes. I wonder why that is.
Whatever the reason, it’s beautiful. The color looks aged and ancient but timeless at the same time—like something that has seen time pass and endured it.
His hands change—fingers lengthening and sharpening into claws that catch the light as they flex. His legs reshape beneath him—stronger, thicker, and built for power rather than balance. And then—his back…
I hear a tearing sound, not painful but forceful, as wings unfurl from him in a sudden, breathtaking sweep.
They’re massive, even folded—elegant and sleek. The thin membranes stretched between long, arched bones catch the light filtering through the small window of the hut, glowing faintly as though lit from within.
His face is the last to change.
His jaw lengthens—teeth sharpening and his features becoming something both more and less than human all at once. His horns lengthen and curve back from his head—long and elegant, framing his skull like a crown of living bone
To my surprise, his eyes aren’t silver like the rest of him—they’re gold—bright and molten, like fire given form.
And then the transformation—what Theron calls “Shifting” is done.
I should be afraid—I know I should. He’s huge, after all—even reduced in size, his long, sleek body is coiling and shifting to fit inside the small hut. He moves with a grace that doesn’t match his size—every motion fluid and controlled, like a creature that knows exactly how powerful it is.
But instead of fear, all I feel is awe.
“Goddess…” I breathe, looking up at him.
He’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen—beautiful in the way a storm is beautiful, or fire, or the endless sky at night.
The Drake turns his head toward me, one golden eye fixing on mine, and something passes between us in that moment—something quiet and undeniable.
Then he moves.
Slowly…carefully, he lowers himself, his long body curling inward, folding down so that he can bring his head level with where I sit on the edge of the bed. The movement is deliberate—almost cautious—as though he is trying not to startle me.
I don’t pull back—I can feel it—what he wants and that’s just to be close to me.
I feel something else coming from him too—a quiet, insistent invitation. He wants me to touch him.
My hand lifts before I can stop it.
“Hi there,” I whisper, my voice soft with wonder. “Goddess, aren’t you gorgeous?”
The words feel inadequate, but they’re all I have. I hesitate for just a moment, my fingers hovering inches from him.
“Can…can I touch you?” I ask. “Really?”
He doesn’t speak, of course, but he answers anyway. He nudges his head forward, pressing gently into my outstretched hand.
My breath catches as my fingers make contact—I expected hardness—roughness.
Instead, his scales are smooth as silk. Sleek and soft in a way that surprises me. They shift slightly beneath my touch—overlapping and alive—and I can feel the heat of him radiating through them. It’s a deep, steady warmth that speaks of fire held carefully beneath the surface.
“Oh…” I murmur softly, hearing the awe in my own voice.
I let my hand move, tracing along the curve of his face…following the line of his jaw…the ridge above his eye. His skin—his scales—feel almost responsive, as though he’s aware of every place I touch.
He leans into my hand, obviously asking for more and I smile despite myself. He makes me think of a big cat, wanting to be stroked.
Carefully, I reach higher, scratching lightly behind the ridge of one large golden eye.
The response is immediate—a low, rumbling sound vibrates through him, deep and steady, almost like a purr. I feel it through my hand, through the air, through my own body where I sit so close to him.
“Oh, you’re so beautiful,” I breathe. Everything about him draws me to him and I don’t try to fight my reaction. Without thinking, I lean forward and wrap my arms around his long neck.
The Drake stills for a moment, then settles into my embrace. His enormous head is heavy on my shoulder, but I find that I like the sensation. The weight of it should be overwhelming, but he holds himself carefully, as though he knows exactly how much I can bear.
His wings shift, unfolding carefully in the cramped space. And then they come forward, wrapping around me in a slow, deliberate motion until I am enclosed within them.
I feel a rush of emotions—enclosed like this I feel protected…sheltered…held. The world seems to narrow to just this small, warm space between us. The scent of him surrounds me—smoke and heat and something deeper, something that feels ancient and wild and utterly him.
And somehow, I feel what the Drake is feeling too. His emotions brush against me gently at first—like the edge of a thought that isn’t mine. Coming from him in a steady wave I feel, warmth and caring—a steady, grounding sense of protection that settles over me like a cloak.
I feel safe with him—but beneath that loving protectiveness, there’s something sharper…something stronger.
Possession—Theron’s Drake wants to own me. He wants to hoard me like gold. Because to him, I’m something precious—someone to be cherished and cared for and protected.
It startles me, that feeling. It isn’t cruel or harsh, but it is intense. It’s a deep, instinctive certainty that I belong within the circle of his wings—that I am something to be guarded…kept…claimed.
The strength and depth of the Drake’s emotions almost scare me but he’s still so gentle with me. He doesn’t tighten his hold or try to trap me.
He simply holds me there, his warmth surrounding me, his breath steady against my shoulder, as though he is waiting to see what I will do.
I don’t pull away—I can’t. Because for the first time since the curse took hold of me…since everything fell apart…I don’t feel alone.
I rest my cheek lightly against his scales, closing my eyes for just a moment and let myself breathe him in—let myself be comforted by his warmth.
But just as I’m truly getting comfortable, the Drake begins to change–his big body begins to Shift in my arms.
I give a little gasp, but it happens so fast I don’t have time to pull away.
Before I know it, I’m sitting there with my arms around Theron’s neck. He’s kneeling before me and looking into my eyes. There’s a look of wonder on his face.
“You liked him—you really liked him,” he says softly.
“Of course I did—I do,” I tell him. “He was so sweet and gentle.” I can’t seem to stop myself from lifting my hand to his hair, running my fingers through the thick, dark strands. “Just like you.”
He goes very still at that. Then he catches my hand in his much larger one and brings it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to my fingers. His eyes never leave mine and the intensity of his gaze makes my heart flutter.
It’s too much…too close…too him.
I can feel the curse working on me—my whole body heating again, the slow, insistent ache building as his scent surrounds me—warm and spicy and undeniably male. It pulls at me—tugs at something deep inside, makes me want to lean into him…to ask him…to beg—
But no. I can’t—I have to control myself.
I swallow hard and hold myself still. Somehow, I resist the need building inside me.
But I can’t stop looking at the big Shifter. Our eyes stay locked together and the space between us feels charged—tight with something unspoken. I can feel it building, that same tension from before, only stronger now—sharper.
I swear I can feel him wanting to get closer.
Or maybe that’s just what I want—what I need.
The thought makes my heart pound. Is this just the witch’s curse working on me again? Twisting my body, making me feel things I shouldn’t?
Or is it something else? Something real?
Why do I feel so drawn to him?
I don’t know. I only know that when he finally pulls away, I feel the loss of him immediately.
Theron rises to his feet, running a hand over his horns as though trying to steady himself.
“Well,” he says gruffly, not quite meeting my eyes now. “I guess we’d better get going. Let me pack a few supplies and we can be on our way.”
I nod because I don’t trust myself to speak right away. I don’t ask which quest we’re taking on first—it doesn’t really matter.
The main thing is that I’ll be with Theron…with both of them. And though I don’t fully understand it yet, I can feel something deep inside me—a connection—to him and also to his Drake.
I don’t know what it means, but I want to find out.