Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
ADELE
My cousin and sister ushered me through the wrought-iron gate and into Grandmother’s private sanctuary. Stone pathways wound through beds of rare magical plants, hidden fountains burbled merrily, and wellawisp lanterns floated at strategic points, their soft glow strengthening as twilight deepened.
And there, waiting beside a mooncusp archway, stood Grandmother and the most intimidating man I’d ever seen.
Raoul Emberforge, King of the Emberforge Dragon Territory, was tall, at least a head taller than most men I knew, which put him at least two heads above me.
An impeccably tailored dark suit encased his broad shoulders, complete with tails, and I didn’t spy a thread out of place.
His dark auburn hair had been swept back from a face that appeared carved from stone, all sharp angles and severe lines.
His amber eyes were fixed on me with so much intensity that it was all I could do not to step backward.
Instead, I made myself walk over to stand beside him, Sasha and Veronica following.
What struck me most was how perfectly ordered he appeared. Every element of his appearance was precisely arranged, from his spotless shoes to his perfectly knotted tie. He looked like someone who had never experienced an unruly moment in his life.
The contrast to my disheveled state couldn’t have been starker.
“Ah, there she is,” Grandmother said cheerfully, as though I’d arrived exactly on time. “Raoul, may I present my granddaughter, Adele.”
He inclined his head stiffly. “Lady Adele.”
“Um, hello,” I said, desperately trying to focus on the moment rather than the equations still swirling through my mind.
“I’m sorry about the delay. I was tracking a fascinating correlation between pressure systems and thermal patterns that could revolutionize predictive weather magic, and I lost track of time.
But the data suggests that we might be able to predict weather thirteen months in advance rather than just one if we account for the resonance frequencies of air currents when they—”
I stopped, realizing I was rambling about research to a man who’d been kept waiting for two hours on his wedding day.
His expression didn’t change, though a muscle ticked in his jaw. “I see.”
Around us, the air temperature fluctuated wildly, growing uncomfortably warm before suddenly chilling. A light breeze picked up, rustling the leaves of nearby bushes.
“Adele,” Grandmother said softly.
“Sorry.” I tried to rein in my unintentional weather manipulation.
Fletcher, sitting on my other side, whined, and I absently patted his head.
“The centaur officiant kindly agreed to return when you arrived,” Grandmother said. “He should be here momentarily.”
Raoul studied me in a way that made me want to check if I had dirt on my face. Knowing me, I probably did.
I tried to stand still, but my mind kept drifting back to my research.
If my calculations were correct, the implications for agricultural planning alone would be revolutionary.
Farmers could plant crops knowing they’d be watered appropriately and receive the correct amount of sunlight, and preparations for natural disasters could begin months earlier. In fact—
“Lady Adele,” Raoul’s deep voice cut through my thoughts. “Is the temperature change deliberate?”
I blinked, aware that the garden had grown significantly warmer. “Oh. No, I’m sorry. It happens sometimes when I’m thinking about other things.”
His eyebrows drew together. “You manipulate weather unconsciously?”
“Only small changes,” I said quickly. “Usually. Unless I’m really distracted. Or excited. Or upset.” I paused. “Actually, yes, it happens rather a lot.”
Before he could respond, the centaur officiant arrived, looking slightly winded. An older centaur, his flowing white beard matched his palomino coat.
“Shall we proceed with the ceremony?” he asked, sounding remarkably patient for someone who’d been called back after hours.
“Yes, please.” Grandmother positioned me opposite Raoul beneath the mooncusp archway.
I tried to focus on the ceremony, I really did.
But while standing across from Raoul, watching how the lantern light caught the copper highlights in his hair, my mind kept returning to my research.
What if I could convince him to let me set up weather monitoring stations throughout the mountain ranges?
The dragon territories had some of the most interesting atmospheric conditions.
“Lady Adele?” The centaur’s voice pulled me back to the present.
“Hmm? Oh, yes. I do.”
“That was not the question,” Raoul said. “He asked if you had brought a token of commitment.”
“Oh.” I patted my dress, though I knew I hadn’t brought anything. “I don’t… I accidentally left it in my room.”
“As her guardian, I’ve held it for her.” Grandmother produced a delicate silver chain with a small crystal pendant. “This weather stone has been in our family for generations. It changes color with atmospheric conditions. It’s quite fitting for a weather witch’s marriage.”
Fletcher made a choking sound, his attempt to hide laughter. Both he and I knew Grandmother had probably crafted that necklace behind her back a second ago, but I wasn’t about to tell my…almost husband.
“Thank you,” I whispered as she placed it in my palm. The stone immediately began shifting from clear to a swirling blue-gray, responding to my magical signature.
I presented it to Raoul, who accepted it. His fingers brushed mine, and I was startled by their warmth. Weren’t dragon shifters supposed to be cold-blooded? But then, he wasn’t currently in dragon form.
“And do you, King Raoul, have a token to present?” the centaur asked.
Raoul reached into his pocket and withdrew a small box made of burnished copper. He opened it to reveal a ring of deep amber, set with what appeared to be a living flame dancing in its center.
“A dragonfire gem,” he stated. “It will never burn you, but it will warm you in the coldest conditions.”
I stared at the ring, forgetting my research as fascination took over. “The flame is actual fire, perpetually burning without fuel? How does it maintain combustion without consuming oxygen? Is it drawing energy from an external source, or is it—”
“Adele.” Grandmother nudged my arm.
“Right. Sorry.” I extended my hand, and Raoul slid the ring onto my finger. The tiny flame inside the amber blinked, as if greeting me, and a pleasant warmth spread up my arm.
The centaur continued with the ceremony, but my attention drifted again as I noticed how the air currents in the garden were forming unusual patterns around Raoul.
There was something different about how they moved near him, a subtle heat distortion that created miniature updrafts.
If I could measure the exact thermal displacement, I might be able to calculate—
“Do you, Lady Adele Thornwick, accept this marriage?” The centaur’s question penetrated my thoughts.
“Yes. I do.”
“And do you, King Raoul Emberforge, accept this marriage?”
“I do.” His voice came firm and clear, without a hint of hesitation.
“Then by the power vested in me by the Council of Magical Communities, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may seal your union.”
I blinked, suddenly realizing what came next. A kiss. I hadn’t thought about that part.
Raoul stepped closer, his amber eyes searching mine. He bent and pressed his lips against mine in a formal, proper, and completely passionless kiss. It lasted two seconds before he straightened again.
The garden erupted in a shower of tiny snowflakes despite the warm evening air.
He frowned.
I tried to brush the flakes away, but they kept falling. “That, um, happens sometimes when I’m…surprised.”
Raoul’s expression remained inscrutable, but I’d swear I saw curiosity in his amber eyes.
“We must depart immediately,” he said, turning to Grandmother. “We have a considerable distance to cover, and I prefer to arrive before midnight.”
“Of course.” Grandmother looked entirely too pleased with herself. “Adele’s belongings will be sent along tomorrow.”
Sasha and Victoria stepped forward to say goodbye.
Sasha hugged me tightly, speaking by my ear. “Write to us and try not to accidentally freeze his entire kingdom.”
“I make no promises,” I whispered back, blinking away tears. Despite my casual acceptance of this arrangement, the reality of leaving home was hitting me.
Victoria squeezed my hands. “I’ll pack your research notes in a waterproof case. They’ll arrive with the rest of your things.” She smiled knowingly. “And I’ll include your weather calculation tables.”
“You’re the best.”
Grandmother approached last, her eyes twinkling. “Remember, dear one, sometimes the greatest discoveries come when we’re not looking for them.” She patted my cheek. “And do try not to get so lost in your thoughts that you forget you have a husband.”
Fletcher circled my feet, projecting worry. I’m coming too, right? He can’t separate us.
“Yes, you are.” I glanced up at Raoul. “My companion will be coming with me.”
Raoul’s gaze dropped to Fletcher, who attempted to look dignified despite his droopy eyes and floppy ears. “Naturally. I would not separate a witch from her friend.”
With farewells completed, Raoul led me to an open section of the garden. “Stand back.” He turned to me. “I assume you prefer flight to a long carriage journey with your possessions?”
“Flight would be amazing.” Scientific interest was overriding any nervousness.
He nodded and stepped away from me. His form began to change.
It wasn’t a violent transformation, more like watching water flow from one container to another.
His shoulders broadened impossibly, his height doubled, then tripled.
Copper scales rippled across his expanding form, gleaming in the faelights like newly minted coins.
Within moments, a magnificent dragon stood in front of me, easily the size of a small house.
His wings, folded against his sides, looked like they might span at least thirty feet when extended.
Spines ran down his back, and his long tail curled around his clawed feet.
His head was huge, with elaborate horns crowning it, and those same amber eyes, now much larger, regarded me steadily.
Fletcher let out a yelp and darted behind my skirts.
That’s… That’s a very large dragon, he said.
May I? a deep, rumbling voice asked in my mind. It took me a moment to realize Raoul was communicating telepathically.
“Oh! Yes. Sure.”
He extended one big foreclaw, and, with surprising gentleness, scooped me up. A moment later, I found myself deposited on his broad back, behind where his neck joined his shoulders. Fletcher was carefully placed in front of me, trembling but trying to appear brave.
The spines along Raoul’s back were smooth and warm and provided convenient handholds. I grabbed one, keeping an arm wrapped snugly around Fletcher. My heart pounded with a mixture of scientific excitement and basic terror.
Hold tight, Raoul said in my mind. And try not to change the weather while we’re airborne.
Did I hear humor in his voice? I had to be mistaken. So far, my new husband hadn’t given any indication that he had a sense of humor.
Powerful muscles bunched beneath me, and we launched into the twilight sky.
“Goodbye!” Grandmother called out, waving.
Sasha and Veronica had locked their arms across their chests and were frowning.
It was all I could do to give them a quick wave.
My stomach dropped as we surged upward, the force of our ascent pushing me against his spine ridge. Fletcher yelped and scrambled halfway up my chest, nearly knocking me backward.
I wrapped both arms around him. Hold on, love. We’ll land before you know it.
Don’t like this, he growled, his eyes tightly closed.
The gardens shrank below us. I caught one last glimpse of Grandmother, Sasha, and Victoria waving, then we banked toward the distant mountains that marked the dragon territories.
Wind rushed past me, tangling my hair, but I barely noticed.
As we climbed higher, I was mesmerized by the air currents streaming around Raoul’s wings, creating perfect vortices that his big body utilized for maximum efficiency.
The thermal patterns were unlike anything I’d ever observed, and my mind was already calculating formulas for how dragon flight could affect weather systems.
Fletcher snuggled closer, his eyes pinched closed. Tell me when it’s over.
I was entranced by the aerial view and what it meant for my research. Clouds passed close enough to touch, and I could feel the different temperature layers as we ascended. If I could take measurements at this altitude regularly, who knew what theories I could come up with?
“This wasn’t how I planned to conduct my high-altitude research,” I whispered into the wind, a smile spreading across my face, “but I can work with it.”