Page 72 of Gift from the Tree

Holy fuck, he’s got an earth element, and he’s about to fuck me up.

“I said no elements, Vander,” Professor Claven yells.

Finally, you fucker. But it’s too late. His fist is coming down fast.

In a panic, not wanting to get my face bashed in by this shithead’s stone hand, I call on my air element and release a huge blast of air, sending Vander flying.

“Willow,” Draken whispers as he falls on his knees beside me, pulling me into his lap. Turning my head to him, I see the whole class picking themselves up, including Professor Dickface.

Oops.

“My air blast didn’t hurt you, did it?” Fuck, it hurts so bad to talk.

“No, sweetness, I was the only one standing.” I can feel him vibrating with anger. Tilting my head up to look at him, his eyes are shifting back and forth between slits and normal.

“Draken, your eyes are—”

He cuts me off with a world-shattering kiss. His lips are so warm against mine and when he runs his tongue across my bottom lip gently, I gasp, and he swallows any sounds that want to come out. I can taste a hint of my blood, but the sweet taste of Draken overpowers it and I fall deeper into the kiss, a monumental distraction from my pain. When he slows his movements and presses his lips firmly against mine, an all-familiar flash of light sucks me in.

A small boy, maybe four years old, with dirt on his face and raggedy clothes hanging off him is crouching in a dirty side street, eating what looks like a piece of bread. A man approaches him, says something, and points to a horse-drawn wagon. Draken nods and on wobbly legs, stands and makes his way over, climbing on the back.

Shifting scenes rapidly through the years, I watch as Draken works in stalls, takes care of the animals, and works hard. But that same man constantly yells at him, whips him, and throws scraps of food to him in what looks like a makeshift bed on a barn floor. Draken’s sad cobalt eyes nearly break my heart in two.

Shifting again, Draken’s a teenager, crouching on the ground, fire beneath his fingertips and he screams in pain. Three figures step out of the woods, and Draken scurries backward. The one in the front crouches down to Draken’s level and puts his hands up in a “I mean no harm” kind of way. The image moves angles, and I see it’s Corentin. Tillman and Caspian are standing behind him, and he’s calmly talking to Draken, giving him instructions. He stands and backs a few feet away as Draken gets on all fours, breathing slowly, when suddenly, his body shifts and a flash of light leaves a magnificent fifteen-foot auburn dragon standing where Draken was.

The dragon stretches his wings and begins flapping them, eventually getting off the ground and taking to the sky. Corentin, Tillman, and Caspian run beneath him on the ground until he lands at the farm and releases a stream of flames. I feel like the vision skips a part because next I see Corentin, Tillman, and Caspian, handing a smiling Draken some pants and taking turns hugging and clapping him on the back.

Coming back to the present, Draken’s lips are frozen on mine. He pulls away slowly and looks down at me with so much awe but also fear that I don’t know what to think.

“What’s wrong?” I croak out, getting very lightheaded.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me,” he whispers.

“I could never be scared of you, Draken. Your dragon is the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen,” I swear and his eyes mist as he smiles down at me.

“What the fuck is going on here?” an angry voice bellows. I know that voice, just never heard it that loud.

Draken positions me so he can stand while still holding me. I lean my head on his chest, while everything around me spins as he gets a better grip on my body. He doesn’t turn around just yet but leans his head down to whisper in my ear.

“He’s going to lose his shit when he sees you, sweetness. Don’t freak out.”

I don’t know what he means by that. Why would Tillman lose his shit?

“Draken, where the fuck is—” Tillman quits talking when Draken turns around, holding me cradled in his arms.

“Will,” he whispers as he stares at me with wide eyes before his face fills with fury. “Who?” he asks low and deadly.

“Vander. But she hit him with a blast that sent his ass clear across the training field and knocked everyone else down as well. Claven never called off the fight and had his minion pussies hold me back,” Draken tells him the gist of what happened.

Tillman turns on the spot and heads straight for Professor Claven, who sees him coming and straightens his shoulders. “Tillman, this is no concern of—”

I gasp as Tillman’s punch sends Claven to his ass. Tillman sends ropes of vines out and wraps them around his neck and pulls him up until his feet dangle. “Did you or did you not call off the match at an appropriate time?” he bellows in Claven’s face, releasing his vines, dropping him on his ass, again.

“Yes. I called him off when he lost his temper and called on his element,” Claven chokes out, rubbing his neck.

“Was that before or after she looked like that?” Tillman’s shouting so loud, the entire group of students steps away from him.

Claven looks at me, then at Tillman and doesn’t say a word.

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