Page 60 of Beautiful Beast

I sat down heavily, dropping my head into my hands. I’d been alive for nearly four centuries and I’d never felt like this. Restlessness was a part of my being, but this was torture.

“Where are the others?”

“Sirrus went to fly. I think Endre is running himself into the ground again.”

“Why?” Idroal offered the pipe to me and I declined.

“To keep themselves from this. I just saw her. We were interrupted, and now…”

They looked at me, their bright green eyes pinning me to the spot. “Speak your fears.”

“I am not afraid.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Idroal,” I huffed. “I am driven to distraction. My dragon clamors for her and nothing else. Like he will not be sated until?—”

Standing, they went and poured a drink. I smelled the strength of it before they handed it to me. “Drink it.”

“I didn’t want to smoke, and I don’t want to drink either.”

They put the glass in my hand. “It wasn’t a request.”

We glared at each other for long moments, and I knew I would lose. Idroal had the patience of the mountain itself. So I tossed the burning liquor down in one swallow and set the glass on the low table between us. “Happy?”

Smirking, they blew another smoke ring into the air. “I shall phrase my question another way, my lord. What keeps you from her?”

“You ask that as if it is simple.”

They shrugged. “It is.”

“She’s human.”

“So are many in this world.”

I shook my head. “She is marked for death. When we tell the Elders, I do not think they will be kind. And they will assume Endre is to blame. If I go to her and then have to watch her killed…”

Idroal’s eyes sharpened. “So you fear your own pain. What might happen. To you. To Endre and Sirrus. To Lena. You fear that giving in to what is between you will break you when you have nothing left to be broken.”

My dragon unleashed a soft growl. The kind that came from utter blackness before the swift, killing blow. I hated that they were right and could state it so plainly. “Yes.”

“And which is worse?” They leaned forward. “To try and feel that pain? Or to resist and never know?”

I threw myself to my feet. “Neither is a good option, Idroal. Stop speaking in riddles, please. I don’t have the patience for it.”

Slowly, they put their pipe down and stood, looking at me. “I can only tell you what I know, and that is this. You are an Heir to a world that is dying. Because the humans do not understand and the dragons refuse to work toward a peace in which we could help them. There is much that has been lost, Zovai. Would that you could have seen a world before your time. This one is bleak in comparison.”

“And what am I to do about that?”

“I cannot dictate your actions or your path. You know that. But I will tell you that in my experience, trying to alleviate future pain often causes more. And there is only so long something that is dying will wait before it protects itself.”

We all knew Viria was dying. And if we hadn’t known, flying to Gleira made it really fucking obvious. The dry and brown land was steadily creeping toward Evrítha, crawling outward from the north and west. If reports were to be believed, the farthest reaches of Craisos were nothing but desert now.

Once the rot and dying land passed Evrítha, there would be no more ignoring it. And it would happen in a heartbeat. A handful of years at best. Mere moments for a dragon. And it would be catastrophic.

But with the dragons and humans at odds, we couldn’t fix it. We couldn’t replace the sheyten. Stars, we didn’t even know where they were, even if the Elders would allow us an attempt at salvation.

And even knowing the dire state of things, the only thing in my mind was Lena. The glint of her hair in the setting sun. Her tiny gasp when my lips brushed over hers. The way her body shone through that dress she never should have worn.

---