Chapter 19
After moving some chairs and getting waved off by Teren, who is positively exuding warm and calm vibes in a way I will never be able to match, Zan and I slip out.
Instead of heading for the mountain, though, Zan takes us another way.
“I’m getting a lock,” he says flatly. “It can’t wait any longer.”
Okay, that’s fair. I did just take away his dragon form’s safe place, but he could at least still have privacy this way.
We could, if we ever needed it.
For reasons.
Given that I’ve just invited Crystal Hollow into my life, though, I can’t help feeling like this is a counter to the exact point I was trying to make—
“There’s a difference between being who you are and open with it and allowing everyone unlimited access to you,” Zan tells me.
I blink at him.
That’s... a really good point, actually.
The Order had unlimited access to me, which meant I had no freedom.
I don’t have to share all of myself with everyone. I can have boundaries.
I certainly don’t want to share all of Zan.
“So are you selectively telepathic then?” I ask him. “Do you control which of my thoughts you read? Because before now I could have called your understanding of me intuition or close attention, but that one was a leap.”
Zan’s stride hitches. “Later.”
It’s afternoon now.
We’re running out of daylight, and this may have been the last day we have together, and I’ve spent it focused on pretty much every part of my new life but him.
For what remains, he is my focus, and nothing else.
He’s getting a lock to protect my peace. What can I do to protect his?
I narrow my eyes, katas churning in my mind.
When we get to the mountain, I’ll be ready.
Our path up the mountain is pretty silent.
I’m sure we both have a lot of processing to do, but we could do that out loud.
But Zan’s not ready to talk about anything that matters yet.
And I have a lot of knowledge and am pissed off at any number of people, myself included, and so this trail to our cottage is gaining wards as fast as I can cast them.
Let people who try to pass without my blessing feel wrath fall on them and turn away.
They know now that the Sage of Wrath was here. It can be explained away.
And more importantly, it’ll keep anyone but those with magical defenses—Teren, Nomi with Zan’s scales, or the Order—from casually interrupting our lives.
So Zan broods, and I lash out at the world without it giving me the satisfaction of lashing back, and then finally we’re back at the cottage and he’s like, “Let me figure out how to install this—”
And my patience has run out.
“Nomi can do it tomorrow,” I tell him as I rip the bow out of my hair. “No one’s going to interrupt us tonight without a warning. You need to tell me what the shit is going on.”
Zan freezes.
Then he lowers his hand, and the lock, down to the table with a thunk.
His disguise dispels, thankfully.
But he still doesn’t look like himself, because his head droops too, before he squares his shoulders to look at me.
Gods, what could possibly be this bad?
“I know we’ll have to figure out how you can still transform here safely,” I say. “And I know, long-term, we’ll have to figure out some way for me to not leave you—”
Zan lets out a crack of laughter.
I pause.
That wasn’t the joyful sound I’ve worked to earn from him.
That was bitterness given form.
“Do you feel anything,” Zan says tonelessly, “when we touch?”
So many things.
I feel warmth—of multiple kinds.
I feel like there is one person in the world who sees me and is with me.
I feel like where I am meant to be.
“Yes,” I say simply, because I do know what he means.
He’s talking about magic.
“I’m feeding on you,” Zan says bluntly. “It’s why I didn’t have to change back right away—whenever we touch, I’m stealing your power.”
I tilt my head to one side. “I thought it might be something like that. It’s not exactly stealing if I volunteer, though, is it?”
“It’s stealing if I didn’t ask permission,” Zan grits out.
“Well, the first time happened when we were facing off against the priests, right?” I ask, thinking back. That had been the biggest rush.
“When you fainted, yes—”
“Oh, come off it, I way overreached with my own power having done zero preparations, I probably would have passed out anyway. I just meant we didn’t exactly have time to talk about it before that.
And it’s been less power every time since, right?
Is that because you needed less after— Hmm, no, because then you transformed again later. Something else?”
Zan is looking at me strangely. “Yora, I took something from you against your will, on what should have been your first taste of freedom. And I have kept taking it—”
“Wouldn’t have been against my will if you’d asked—”
“But I didn’t ask—”
“And I touched you, remember?”
“And I let you,” Zan says repressively. “Over and over, I allowed it to continue without you knowing.”
“Yes,” I say slowly, “you did. I assume because you were never planning on telling me. You thought it would just be better if you left and then I never had to know, rather than just talking to me about it. Which means there’s something else to this you’re not telling me, because otherwise you could’ve just been casually like, hey Yora would you mind lending me some magic so I could stay longer and I would have said obviously I will—”
“It’s not a loan if I don’t give it back.”
“Could you, though?”
Zan grinds his teeth.
“Aha,” I say softly. “Now we’re getting somewhere.
Come on, Zan, out with it. I know dragons can’t normally take magic from humans like this.
Whatever’s going on, I’m a part of it, too, and if it wasn’t fair for me to know you were taking my power, it’s definitely not fair for me to not know the whole story. ”
Zan doesn’t say anything right away.
I purse my lips.
I’m not mad about the magic, and I can’t swear I won’t be mad about whatever I’m forcing him to reveal. I’m in fact already mad that it seems like he’s been keeping something that’s not just a him problem, but an us problem, to himself.
But to my endless frustration, I don’t think punching him will make the words come out any faster.
I take a step toward him, not quite sure what I’m about yet, only for him to step back.
My entire heart freezes.
“Yora—” Zan begins.
No.
My power blazes out of me, and I take another step toward him, poking my finger out.
“I’ll make you steal more of my power,” I threaten. “Don’t think I won’t.”
His eyes widen, and he backs up another step only for me to follow him.
Okay this is ridiculous, surely I’m not going to chase him around my godsdamn kitchen—?
I manifest a wall of solid magenta behind him.
Zan tries to dash to the side, but there was only one way to go, and I’m ready for him, taking his hands in mine.
I feel it clearly now that I know what it is—the rush of power leaving me, into him.
Freely offered.
Zan’s eyes flare bright blue, and something in his expression goes a little feral.
And then he snarls, “It’s a mate bond.”
I blink.
I tilt my head, feeling like my entire being has just tilted on its axis.
Is that why I’ve always known him?
Why he’s been obsessed with me?
A thing we didn’t even choose—
“It shouldn’t be possible,” Zan bites out. “Whether or not you’re human, you’re not a dragon. The power differential between us should be too great. When I first felt the potential for it all those years ago, I thought it must be a mistake—”
“The potential?” I interrupt, trying to keep my voice even. “So we don’t have a mate bond?”
Zan shakes his head. “Not yet. Dragons can always feel the potential for a mate bond, but we still have to choose it on purpose. But the times it has flared between us—”
“Are when I chose,” I realize.
When I first reached out a hand to touch a dragon.
When I refused to let him leave me and took active steps to bring him back to me.
When I gave him my power on purpose.
“Yes,” Zan says, “even if you didn’t know it.”
Okay.
Okay, yeah, I’m pissed after all.
“So you want to leave,” I say, my hands tightening, “because I want you to stay?”
Zan steps in closer to me. “I don’t want to leave,” he snaps. “But you don’t know—”
“Then tell me! Didn’t you say mating would give you freedom? Do you want someone else—”
Zan presses his lips to mine, like he can’t help himself.
And gods help me, I don’t want to help myself.
The feeling of perfect togetherness fills me and makes me ache and want to rail at the universe, because why can’t I have this? Why can’t I have him?
What kind of punishment do I have to suffer to deserve happiness?
Zan rests his forehead against mine as I try to breathe.
Then he says, “There is no other mate. Not for me.”
My breath catches.
That... that can’t mean what it sounds like, does it?
I lean back just far enough to be able to see his whole face. “I thought you said dragons got to choose.”
“We do,” Zan says. “We have to choose the bond, and that means trusting that we are both the kind of people who will continue to choose each other for our entire lives no matter how we change and grow—because otherwise the mate bond can snap, which kills us. But until we choose, we always know when the potential is there. There has never been another possibility for me, Yora. Not in more than five hundred years.”
Oh.
So when he said, before, that he had only been tempted to settle down once...
Oh.
“Is that... normal?” I ask tentatively.
Zan shakes his head. “No. Before we leave the eyrie, dragons have usually felt the potential with multiple others. And I have continued encountering dragons over the centuries. You are the only one for me.”
Good.
I never knew I could be so possessive, but I am fiercely—exultant? smug?—to know he has never felt like he could have a bond with anyone else.
But—
“I’m going to need you to spell out for me what the godsdamn problem is, then,” I practically growl.