Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ADELE
Iwoke slowly, piecing together my surroundings one sense at a time. The scent of pine and soap. The solid warmth of Raoul holding me close. The heavy weight of an arm draped over my waist. My hand rested on his chest, right over his heart, feeling the slow, steady rhythm of his beat.
Last night wasn’t a dream.
The memory of what we’d done, the wild magic, and the slick heat of him in the cave sent a blush up my neck. I’d lost control. Utterly. And he hadn’t only been alright with it, he’d reveled in it.
He stirred, his arm tightening, pulling me more securely against him.
It wasn’t a possessive gesture, but a comforting one.
Safe. My entire life had been a pursuit of knowledge, a fortress of books and theories I’d built around myself.
This feeling of being held, of being completely wanted, was terrifying and exhilarating.
It felt more real than any scientific principle I’d ever studied.
I lay there for a long time, just breathing with him, memorizing the feeling of his body against mine, until the light turned from gray to gold.
“Morning,” he said with a sleepy smile, giving me a slow, languid kiss that heated me up much too fast. When he pulled back, I clung.
He tapped my ass. “You’re trying to keep me in bed all day, aren’t you?”
“You kissed me.”
“And you kissed me back.” He glanced toward the window, and I was sure he heard people moving around outside, because I did.
“There isn’t anything I’d rather do than lie here with you.” He chuckled. “Well, there are few things I’d like to do more than just lie here with you, but those will have to wait.”
We slipped from the bed and dressed quickly, stepping outside into the bright morning. The air was already warm, but the dust on the ground was undisturbed. I hadn’t expected it to rain last night but wouldn’t that have been wonderful?
If only I could control the storms my emotions generated.
“Morning!” Piper strode over to greet us, a basket of fresh bread and preserved fruits in her arms. “Breakfast.” She lifted the basket and nudged her head toward an empty table. “You two have a big day ahead. Please join us.”
As we ate, the village began to assemble, coming in ones and twos, then in family groups, their faces a stark mixture of desperation and hope.
They didn’t crowd us or interrupt, just stood at a respectful distance, watching, waiting.
My belly, which had been rumbling with hunger, tightened into a knot.
So many lives rested on my calculations being correct.
“They believe in you,” Raoul said quietly, noticing my expression.
“They believe in us,” I said. “Now, I need to collect my supplies. Piper, those volcanic caves Raoul mentioned? The ones with the crystal formations? Can you take us to them?”
She studied me for a long moment before nodding.
We finished and followed her up a long winding trail that took us about halfway up the smallest hill behind the village, where we entered a cave and paused to let our eyes adjust to the darkness.
The cave was different from the hot springs; cooler, darker, with a hum in the air that spoke of ancient magic. Crystalline veins glittered along the walls. Sulfate and silver iodide deposits, exactly as I’d expected from his description.
While Piper and Raoul stood at the entrance, I moved through the big open cave, my boots crunching on the mineral-dusted floor.
I worked carefully, collecting samples, scraping fine powders into labeled pouches, placing them in my bag.
Each compound had to be pure, the ratios precise.
This wasn’t just magic; it was chemistry.
A delicate dance between the natural world and my power to manipulate it.
When I finished, we returned to the village square. The crowd had grown.
I took a deep breath and turned to Raoul.
“I have what I need. Now comes the hard part. We need to fly a precise grid pattern to the west of the valley, intersecting with the largest cloud formations as they drift eastward. I’ll disperse the minerals along with my magic at specific altitudes to trigger ice crystal formation.
But it’s critical that your flight path is steady.
Any deviation could disrupt the atmospheric pressure I’m trying to create. ”
He looked from me to the expectant faces of his people, then back to me. There was no hesitation in his eyes, no doubt. Only complete and total trust.
“Tell me where to fly,” he said simply.
A lump formed in my throat. I nodded.
He stepped into the center of the square, and with a now-familiar blur of heat and power, shifted. His magnificent dragon form towered over the villagers, his scales shimmering like polished stones in the morning sun.
I walked toward him, and he lowered his huge head. I reached up, placing my palm flat against the warm scales of his snout. It was a gesture of affection, a silent acknowledgment of the bond between us.
“Ready?” I asked softly.
A low, deep rumble vibrated through his chest and up my arm. He was more than ready.
Mounting him felt second nature now. I climbed quickly, my hands and feet finding the familiar holds. I settled into my spot at the base of his neck, the powerful muscles beneath me coiled like big springs.
He spread his wings, and a gust of wind sent dust devils dancing across the square. With a powerful beat of his wings and a spring upward, he launched us skyward. Cheers erupted below, a wave of sound that followed us as we climbed higher and higher into the empty blue sky.
The world shrank below us, the parched valley now a brown scar on the green landscape. To our west, a few lonely clouds drifted, wisps of white. A few small clusters waited further west. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.
“Higher, Raoul,” I said, my voice carrying over the rush of the wind. I pointed. “Into the belly of that first cloud. I need the updraft.”
He banked to the left and climbed until we were slicing through the damp mist. Here, in the sky, we weren’t a witch and a dragon shifter. We were one entity.
Once he’d stabilized us within the cloud, I opened my bag.
Cold air shot past us, and moisture clung to my skin.
I reached out with my magic and levitated a billow of fine mineral dust from one of the pouches.
Chanting softly, I infused the glittering cloud with a cold charge, shaping the energy with my hands.
“Crystallization nuclei,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. The dust shimmered in the diffused light, a miniature galaxy of potential. “They’ll give the water vapor something to cling to.”
With a final push, I cast the dust into the swirling mist. For a moment, nothing happened. Then I felt the subtle shift in the cloud’s internal temperature, the first microscopic ice crystals beginning to form.
It was working.
As I began preparing the next pouch, an image flashed through my mind, his perspective of me sitting on his back, surrounded by a faint aura of light, my hair whipping in the wind, my hands weaving spells that were remaking the sky.
You’re amazing, he said.
My heart stuttered. My concentration broke. A sudden, unplanned flurry of snowflakes swirled around us. I gasped, quickly reining in my magic. A flush of heat spread across my cheeks despite the cold.
Focus, Adele, he teased.
I smiled until my cheeks ached.
We flew back and forth, a meticulous, exhausting pattern across the sky.
Clouds slowly began to gather, drawn in by my magic, and I seeded each, my energy draining as I cast magic with meticulous care.
Raoul’s flight remained flawless, his wings beating a steady rhythm that I found myself matching my breathing to.
We were on the westernmost leg of the final pass when the air beneath us gave way. A violent downdraft slammed into us, trying to rip us from the sky.
A gasp tore up my throat as he plummeted, and I latched onto his spine spike, nearly losing my grip on my bag of supplies.
The ground rushed up to meet us. I flattened myself against Raoul’s back, digging my fingers into the ridges between his scales, my knuckles white.
Fear shot through me. We were going to crash.
He roared. His wings beat harder, each stroke vibrating through my bones. He fought the air, his powerful body straining against the force dragging us down. Our fall slowed, and he pivoted, clawing his way back up until we were clear of the turbulence and back in stable air.
My fear evaporated, replaced by awe. I’d seen his strength with his advisors and felt it in his arms, but this was different. This was the untamed power of a dragon king refusing to be conquered.
I laid my hand on his neck and sent my gratitude through the touch, a wave of emotion I couldn’t put into words.
A low rumble moved through his chest. I will never let you fall.
After that, the final pass was almost easy. My magic flowed, and soon, the last of the mineral dust had been dispersed. I sank back, exhausted but exhilarated, every muscle in my body aching.
“It’s done,” I said.
He banked away from the clouds and as I squinted over my shoulder, I saw that the cloud formations had changed. They were merging, darkening, churning with a new, heavy energy. The sky to the west of Brightmore Valley was transforming.
One final spell, the biggest of all, set this pattern so that rain would return to the village on a regular interval, breaking the anomaly for this cycle.
We landed in the village square to hushed silence. Raoul shifted back to his usual form, his face beaded with sweat, his breathing still heavy from flying so long and so carefully. He moved over to stand beside me, his arm going around my waist.
The sky had a bruised, angry purple tinge to it. The air hung with the promise of a storm, so still it felt like the world was holding its breath. Every villager had their faces tilted upward.
A pang of anxiety shot through my exhaustion. The science was sound. The magic was done. But theory and reality were two different things. What if the cloud deviated and spilled its rain elsewhere? I’d hate to fail these people.
Raoul didn’t look at me, his gaze fixed on the sky, but he stroked my side.
“It will work,” he said. “I have faith in you.”
And then it happened. A single, fat raindrop landed in the dust at Piper’s feet, creating a dark, star-shaped crater. A gasp went through the crowd. Another drop hit my cheek. A third splattered onto Sebastian’s bald head.
The sky tore open.
A torrential downpour erupted, a deluge of water that slammed into the parched earth. It roared, drumming on the roofs, turning the dusty square into a sea of mud in seconds.
The village erupted into pure joy. Cheers and laughter and ragged sobs of relief all blended together.
People rushed around in the downpour, their arms outstretched, letting the rain wash over them.
Quinn’s little girl, who’d been watching from their doorway, shrieked and ran out to stomp her feet in a puddle.
A few children shifted into their small dragon forms and soared up into the rain, catching drops on their tongues.
Raoul pulled me under the awning of the nearest cottage, pressing me against the wall to shelter me from the worst of the deluge. He turned to me, his dark hair plastered to his head, rain dripping from his chin. His amber eyes glowed with so much pride and emotion it stole my breath.
“You did it,” he said.
My heart felt ready to burst. Looking at him, at his face lit up with joy for his people and the celebration going on around us, I felt a deeper connection than I ever had while working alone. It felt like I was finally finding my place in the world.
“We did it,” I said.
My strength was in theory, but his was in the steady beat of his wings, the unwavering trust in his eyes, and the raw power that had kept me safe. We were much stronger together.
Maybe this was what love felt like. Not the wild, unpredictable storms my magic conjured, but this deep certainty.
He brushed wet hair from my cheek. Raindrops clung to his dark eyelashes, and his gaze held mine. He didn’t kiss me, but the look he gave me was more potent than any kiss, a vow that echoed in the deepest parts of my soul. It said partner. It said equal. It said mine.
We stood under the eave for a long time, watching as the rain softened from a downpour to a nourishing drizzle. The air smelled of wet earth and new beginnings.
Eventually, Piper and Sebastian found us, their faces streaked with rain. She pressed a heavy cloth bag into my hands filled with loaves of bread, links of smoked sausage, and hard-rind cheese.
“We know you need to leave. This is for your journey to Silvervale.” She pulled me into a fierce, rain-soaked hug. “You are always welcome here, Your Majesty. Always.”
The title didn’t feel fake anymore. It felt earned. It felt like family. I hugged her back, full of a sense of belonging I’d never known. I wasn’t just Adele, the weather witch. I was Adele of Emberforge, and this was my home, too.
After saying goodbye, Raoul and I gathered our few things inside the cottage. Before we left, I glanced back at the solitary bed and smiled.
He took my hand as we strode to the edge of the square and gestured east. “The sneezing babies won’t wait.”
At my nod, he shifted, his dragon form shaking drops of water from his glistening scales. He lowered his head, and I rested my forehead against his scales, right between his eyes. He rumbled, a sound of contentment that vibrated through me.
I climbed onto his back, settling into place, hooking our bags and the sack with food onto a spine spike.
Ready to go solve another crisis, Your Majesty? he asked.
A laugh bubbled up in my chest, and I leaned forward, across his neck. “More than ready.”
With a powerful beat of his wings, he launched us into the sky. We soared over the valley that would soon be a gorgeous shade of green.
I was flying toward another unknown, another problem to solve, but I’d do so with Raoul.
And that changed everything.