Page 31 of Gift from the Wing

Perfectly centered is a painting of the moment we shared in the air on the way here, I swear. We’re in flight, with who looks scarily like Corentin on my back. Tillman and Caspian ride on top of his, and a smaller golden dragon flies amongst us, with a rider on hers.

“Holy fuck. He knew,” Draken whispers, running his finger over the painting of Tanith.

“It would seem so,” I murmur, laying my head on his shoulder, linking our fingers.

“Damn, it had to be hard, painful, keeping all these secrets,” he says, leaning down to lay his lips on my forehead.

“I only have a taste of what he had to keep to himself, but it sure isn’t easy. It’s what’s for the best, though. It keeps everyone safe.”

“You’re incredible. You know that right, little wanderer?”

“So are you, dragon. So are you,” I mumble, squeezing in close to him.

“I got to say, Draken, I’m a little jealous of this chair,” Tillman says playfully from behind us, and we whip around to see what he’s talking about.

His hulking form seems so small honestly as he sits in a chair that has sprawling wings coming off the back. Its rich auburn color pops in the sunlight that filters in not only from the window but above us. The ceiling is vaulted, with skylights that allow the sun to pour in.

“Shit, scoot over. Let me see,” Draken says, not giving Tillman time to do as he said. Instead, he plops down in his lap, causing us to laugh and Tillman to yell for him to get his heavy ass off.

I turn from their playful banter as my eyes drift back toward the bookshelves. The few spines I see are so beautiful and colorful compared to the typical black and brown leather we usually see. These aren’t your everyday Elementra books.

“Draken, come look at these,” I say, sliding one off the shelf.

The Keeper Line.

Shit.

“Is that…”

“Yeah. History of the dragons, Essemist Keep, Keeper’s line,” I answer before he can finish his question and pass it to him.

He eyes them warily for a moment, running his hand down the cover. With a small sigh, he nods once but then slides the book back in place.

“Later,” he says, giving me a tight smile, and I don’t push for more.

“How in the realm did you get those?” I ask, not exactly expecting an answer but hopeful for one.

“You will know with time.”

Huffing, I roll my eyes as we start making our way out Draken’s door. The space fits his energy and his excitement perfectly. It’ll be a comforting place for him, that’s for sure.

“Did you notice that you had a bathroom and a closet but no bed?” Corentin asks.

“Yeah, I noticed. Why would I need a bed? I’m not sleeping anywhere without Willow,” Draken deadpans.

I noticed it as well and thought the same thing. He hasn’t slept in a room without me practically since my first month here. Nothing’s going to change that, nor would I want it to. With any of them. They all have to sleep with me.

I won’t have it any other way.

“That’s yours,” I say, hip bumping my gentle giant as he snorts at my thoughts, and we face the first door on the opposite side of the hall.

With a small smile and a nod, he strides toward the door, covering the distance in just a few steps. The calmness that seeps from his room is potent, and my shoulders relax and a soft sigh flows through my lips. He can sense it too and his muscles uncoil right in front of me.

I spot the greenery around the room the second the door is opened, and Tillman’s small laugh pulls me forward.

Stepping in behind him, my shoes disintegrate into nothing, and my feet travel the small distance to the center of the room to stand beside him where my toes sink into the floor that’s made of living moss. It’s soft and cool underfoot, with patches of wildflowers that add bursts of color.

The walls are a mix of smooth stone and thick, twisting vines that climb toward the ceiling, creating a canopy of leaves. There’s a desk that resembles the one in our treehouse, and a few of the smaller workout items he uses when he practices his breathing and meditation before a mission are tucked underneath it.

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