Chapter 3
My nymph cannot be alone with the centaur.
He is unknown and untested.
But so is the Drakeward demon threat.
—Can you trust him?—
“Hey,” she whispers, holding my chin down so I look into her beautiful silver eyes again. “Donovan and Wes were the first two people I ever fell in love with, you can trust them, I promise.”
—They are the men you love—
“They are, but they are not the only ones who…own my heart.”
—The professor—
“Yes, Alexis is special to me, but it’s not just him, it’s you as well, Lu.”
Theo reaches up her small hand and trails it down my cheek.
I close my eyes and drink in the foreign feeling, filing it carefully away as a sensation to treasure, not to shrink from. It’s becoming easier to differentiate between a sweet caress and…the opposite.
For a moment longing makes me dizzy and I can’t unscramble my thoughts. A few seconds ago, the touch of her fingers had been the ultimate prize, but suddenly I wonder if I could ever have more. I want so much more.
“I know it’s weird to say I have strong feelings for four different men,” Theo says, “but it’s the truth. It’s like you are all mine, and I need you all.”
I am hers? I hear her words but it takes a moment to comprehend what she’s saying.
Unworthy as I am, I am hers.
Yes.
And I don’t care about the other men, if they respect and protect her and she needs them too, so be it.
Who am I to question the bonds that weave around us, pulling tighter and more urgent in this strange place?
I am hers.
“So, you’re OK if I go with Donovan?”
I look at the centaur, then back to my nymph.
—Go. Be safe—
She scrambles on to the centaur’s back. “Be careful with her,” the professor growls at the boy.
“I’ll take care of every single part of her,” the centaur replies with a wide grin. The professor and I wear similar expressions as they take off at a gallop.
We don’t like this.
Even though the horse does truly seem to care for her, can a person exist alone in this place for years and not lose their mind?
My eyes keep tracking the Nymph. She’s barely visible now.
“Ludo?”
I don’t move my gaze to turn it to the professor, so he comes and stands beside me. “Ludo, do you have any idea what you might shift into? Donovan shifted into a creature from his family line, so I imagine that’s what we’ll do as well.”
I give my head a shake in the negative.
“OK, well, I know that there are several creatures in my familial ancestry that are not quite as harmless as being a half-horse. Wolves, harpies, berserkers, that kind of beast. Becoming a monster is a distinct possibility, so if I shift, keep Theo away from me. Whatever it takes, don’t let me hurt her. ”
I give him a long look, then nod, a promise passing between us.
“Thanks. Next on the list, Drakeward.” The professor gives me a half-grimace, half grin. “Dread to think what he’ll be.”
The professor is right; shifting into a centaur is one thing, but there are many dark and terrible monsters running in the DNA of witches.
Now Theo is no longer visible, I turn and look at the Elite. The bones in the blonde devil's cheek are shifting.
“Cosmo!” the professor says, his tone sharp. “Your face.”
“You think I don’t feel that?” he hisses back, dropping to his knees. “It’s like my skeleton is on a medieval rack, getting slowly stretched by the fucking public executioner.”
I am pleased with the image of him suffering that way.
Twisting his head from side to side, Drakeward groans again. “Fuck. This.” The next second, the air around him starts to shimmer. It’s subtle at first, but increases as something moves under his skin.
The professor and I take several steps backwards as Drakeward begins to dig into the white dirt and rocks. When he lifts his hands again, long, obsidian claws are in the place of fingers. His features are contorting, full of agony, but also something else. Something ancient and powerful.
The way his spine is bowing, looks impossibly painful. Then the Elite’s clothing just… melts away, dissolving into a slick of viscous, black liquid that coats his rapidly expanding frame.
The process shifts again as the oil hardens on his skin, forming reptilian scales that shine gold in the white light. He screams as the curve of his jaw elongates.
The shimmer around his body boils into a molten gold blaze.
And he just keeps growing.
The rasping sounds in the beast’s throat build until it has no human left.
His tail whips around, lashing and striking, as the dragon draws itself to its full height and unfurls immense, leathery wings, stretching them to their full span.
Drakeward’s body shines like gold leaf with an amber glow, stoked by a roaring internal fire.
The golden dragon raises its massive head and meets my gaze. Then it beats its wings twice, sending a gust of wind and dust through the desert, and takes off into the brilliant white sky.
We watch.
“That was incredible,” the professor mutters. “Fascinating; a full ontological shift.”
I don’t know what that means, but I do know the blonde Elite devil is not a devil at all.
He’s a dragon.
I should have guessed.
Legend has it that dragons are selfish and foul tempered, plus they’re overconfident and ambitious.
That fits.
And what about centaurs? They are arrogant creatures; hedonistic, wild and untameable. Centaurs are not team players and lack self-control. I don’t know if I’m a ‘team player’. I’ve never been on a team.
I follow the dragon’s progress as the professor is muttering about the physics of flight, maybe a little jealous of the dragon’s ability?
That is confusing, because why would you want to be untethered up there in the air, instead of grounded down on the earth?
The earth is where the most powerful energy resides.
No, I’ll stay here. Hopefully. I guess it depends on my DNA.
The others had been discussing ancestry and family lines. I understand what they are saying, but the conversation is not for me. Even if I could join in, I have no way of knowing my magical lineage.
My past is a blank slate.
And my spark is also an unknown quantity.
Sometimes it burns hot, like blue flames scorching my bones—other times it is nonexistent.
So, I’ve learned to follow my instincts rather than rely on spellwork.
The few spells I do know, I taught myself, but casting doesn’t sit right in my body. I’m not a natural witch.
My instinct says it’s not for me.
My instinct is also shouting loudly that I will change and shift into something soon. The atmosphere here, the raw magic, is seeping into my pores, feeding the long asleep creature under my skin.
It’s not a dragon or a centaur. It’s…different.
The dragon wheels around the sky, letting out roaring drafts of fire.
He must choose to use his power to protect my nymph, or he is of no use and should be dismissed.
Dismissed permanently. I scan the beast, looking for a weakness in its armor.
The scales look impenetrable, but the eye socket is soft.
If he turns on her, that is where I will drive my fist. I will tear the wings from his back if he brings even a shadow of harm to her.
I flex then clench my hands.
Harm.
The thought jolts me; my Nymph has been out of sight for thirteen minutes. Unacceptable.
I start walking, following the tracks in the sand the centaur left.
Why did I let her go? If something has happened…I can’t.
I can’t live.
“How far can they have gone?” the professor says, walking beside me.
I ignore him.
“Ludo, you doing alright?” the professor asks, nudging me on the arm.
I give him a brief nod, and he takes that as an invitation to continue talking, unfortunately.
“It’ll be interesting to see what Drakeward makes of this experience.
It’ll give us something to work with in preparation for our own shifts.
Though it’s not in Drakeward’s nature to be helpful in any way. ”
After we’ve been walking for maybe thirty minutes the dragon comes in to land, kicking up plumes of white dust, maybe twenty feet away. A beat passes, then a sound reaches me; it’s a wet, snapping, sucking noise. When it settles, the dragon is back in his human form, once again fully dressed.
He stumbles, and the professor goes to help. The dragon brushes off the assist.
“Well?” asks the professor, stepping back. “Tell us about it.”
Drakeward slowly rotates his neck, as if the muscles are torturously strained. “It’s…un-fucking-believable,” he mutters. “The drive to burn, to fly, was overwhelming. For a second, I didn't want to come back. But then…”
“Then?”
“He wanted to return to this group. My dragon is a predator, but he knew enough to recognize you all as,” he pauses, trying to come up with the right word, “allies rather than enemies.”
Allies? I doubt it. I will never take the dragon at his word. I’m watching.
His Elite magic means nothing if his neck is snapped. The professor’s lips tighten, his hand drifting to his side as if reaching for a weapon he doesn't have.
He sees the threat too. “Will you spontaneously change again?” the professor asks, “or do you have control of the shift?”
“I’m in control now, before it was almost as though my dragon wanted to introduce himself to me.”
“Is it separately sentient?” As the professor asks this, the fascination in his eyes is clear. “A different being to you?”
Two spirits in one body. Like Hermaphroditus. I tune back in to what the dragon is saying.
“It’s hard to explain. You’ll see for yourself soon, presumably.” The look he casts in my direction reads as dismissal. He doesn’t think I’ll shift because I’m too lowly. That is not correct.
“Did you see where Theo and Donovan went?” the professor asks.
The dragon shrugs. “That way.” He points to a low rocky outcrop in the distance.
Too far.
I start to run.