ELEVEN #4
"Don't change, Jet. Be better than your father," she demanded before she lifted the chair, swung, and fucking knocked the damned Dark Prince unconscious before clamoring up onto the windowsill, hands trying to grab a hold of me.
I tilted, tipped, let her climb on, her barely-there weight taking all the boulders off my shoulders as I swung upward, whipping around, blowing fire for a long moment, getting all my clan's attention, letting them know it was over before turning and barreling off.
They'd come for us.
Quickly.
As soon as Cass could get control over his guards.
We had to be as far gone as possible.
We had to be untraceable.
In my mind, I shot off an image of all of us splitting up, getting our scent all over The Green, making it impossible for them to figure out where we came from, where we were going.
As soon as everyone got the message, they all took off, leaving just me and Amy taking the direct path back to the veil.
Like Smoky, her legs hooked under my wings even as her hands held a death grip on my shoulders.
But unlike Smoky, she leaned forward, pressing her soft cheek to my plates, planting a sweet kiss there.
She said nothing, just held on as I pushed my body to its limits, forcing it forward with a determination that made my lungs ache, made my wings scream, every thought that was able to penetrate only focusing on getting her home, getting her safe, making sure she was okay.
It was a good few hours shorter than it had been on the way from the veil to get back to it.
The pull was even stronger in Draca form, pulling us inward, begging us forward like a warm embrace.
I flew through it without stopping, not slowing as I tore through the common square where people cheered.
I could hear another Draca behind me.
Tsar.
He could land.
He could tell them.
I didn't.
I flew right past our little home, taking her to the waterfall I kept promising to show her.
I slowed, dipping low, curling down, urging her off.
She slid off my side, tripping, dropping down on a soft moss-covered rock.
I lifted up again, did a lap around the waterfall, searching for the Change back.
I felt it as my gaze found her again, watching me with fascinated eyes.
Mine the dragon called.
Mine, I agreed as the Change burst through me as my feet met the ground, shrinking me back down into my usual form in a blink, faster than normal, the urge inside so strong to get back to my woman, to talk to her, to wrap my arms around her.
"You're beautiful," she called as I moved toward her.
I bent low, swooping her up, crushing her small body to mine, the relief overwhelming, making my stomach feel wobbly, my heart slamming against my ribcage.
"It's okay," her voice said, sounding small, choked. Because I was squeezing the air from her lungs. "I'm okay. It's okay."
Searching a moment for the strength to do so, I finally set her back down on the rock, my hands roving over her body, looking for bruises, cuts, anything.
She was paler than usual, but clean, freshly dressed.
Okay.
She was okay.
"Ah!" she shrieked when my hand slid down her leg.
Brows furrowed, my fingers dragged up the leg of her pants, finding the skin raw, eaten up, singed at the edges.
I knew that look too well.
I knew that pain too well.
Iron.
"That mother fucker," I roared, fingers somehow gentle as the rage surged through me, making me momentarily worry the Change would overtake me without meaning for it to before I managed to bank down the worst of the anger.
"Chair to the head. He deserved his cock cut off and shoved up his own...
what?" I asked when Amy let out a strange snort.
"This wasn't Jet," she said, shaking her head. "This was Cass. And the guards. They put me in a cellar. It was Jet who came to get me, had them cut the iron off, brought me upstairs to bathe, eat, change. I even put some salve on that. It's better than it was."
She was trying to reassure me.
But if this was better, then it must have been horrific before.
That should have never happened to her.
Not on my watch.
I'd let her down.
"Hey," she tried again, small hands framing my face, forcing my gaze up.
"Stop. I'm okay. A little sore. Kinda in shock still.
But fine. I'm here. You got me. My ankle will heal.
It doesn't matter." She leaned forward, pressing her lips to mine before resting her forehead against mine.
"You were magnificent," she added. "So red.
Like... perfectly red. Just like your eyes. Can we ride like that again?"
"Anytime you want," I promised. "But here. Behind the veil. I never want you to go out there again."
"You know, I am more than okay with that," she agreed, arms going around me, pushing and pulling at the same time, urging me to sit, climbing onto my lap, relief and need overtaking us both.
We kissed for what felt like hours, until she finally ripped her lips from mine, resting her forehead to my shoulder.
"Take me home, Drake," she demanded softly.
I stood, holding her close to me.
And I took her home.