Page 79 of Wings of Frost and Fury
“I have no idea what containing this storm will do to your dragon, Jessiva,” I tell her calmly. “My gut feeling is that it won’t be anything good. It’s possible that he’ll be able to withstand its effects for a while, but eventually itwillchange him. I think that’s unavoidable. It might be absorbed by his void completely. It might be altered by living inside him, or it maychange the form of his magic. It could try to burst out of his body and return to tormenting the world.”
“This island has endured enough,” Varex says. “I told Jessiva I plan to go elsewhere, to a distant island, and wait until my future reveals itself. She’ll be staying here.”
“I will not,” she says petulantly. “I’m going with him, even if I have to hang onto his fucking tail the whole flight.”
Varex growls at her.
“Easy,” I caution him. “God, you dragons are so volatile, so unreasonable.” Ashvelon gives a disgruntled whimper, so I pat his nose. “Not you, pet. You’re a good boy.”
He settles down, soothed by my affection, and I turn back to Varex. “Jessiva should go with you. Tell us where you’ll be, and Ashvelon can check on you now and then. If something happens, Jessiva can be there to witness it and tell us what occurred. Consider this—that the information we gain through your experience could be important to destroying the storm once and for all.”
“So even if it kills him, you’ll learn something.” Jessiva’s tone is an icy blade. “What a compassionate point of view.”
Enoughwith her.
“I’m trying to help you, love,” I reply, letting cool irritation enter my own voice. “The way I see it, you owe me for making him a handsome fuckingtreatin human form. Listen, if I could predict the outcome of this, I would. But there’s no precedent for a dragon swallowing a sentient magical storm—no charm or spell I can weave to help him control it. That’s something he needs to figure out himself.”
When I swerve my gaze to Varex, he’s looking at me with a sort of doleful resignation, a hopelessness that concerns me. Has he already given up?
“One thing you should keep in mind—this storm is evil,” I warn him. “It prides itself on destruction and it feeds off misery. When it tries to escape or conquer you, it will use yourvulnerable points—longstanding resentment, gnawing pain, poisonous guilt, anything that has infested your consciousness for years. It will use that as a foothold.”
I try to offer them a bit more advice, but I’m not sure how much of it sinks in. Both Varex and Jessiva seem traumatized by whatever they experienced during the storm. The fact that Varex has confined the Mordvorren within himself doesn’t bode well for their relationship, either.
Varex announces his intention to head for the Twin Fangs, an isolated pair of islands. That way, any chaos the storm might cause will only affect him and Jessiva.
“Don’t tell the clan what’s wrong with me, I beg you,” Varex says to Ashvelon. “And if Kyreagan returns before I do, tell him I went hunting or surveying or something.”
“We’ll concoct a good solid lie,” I tell him. I half-expect Ashvelon to make some quip about how skilled I am at lying, but he only bows his head to Varex.
“Fly safely, my Prince,” he says. “Do not worry for the clan. You have sacrificed your own health and stability for the good of all. Take the time you need to recover. I have every confidence you will return to us stronger than ever.”
As we fly away, I mutter to Ashvelon, “Hopeful words for a dire situation.”
“They were for Jessiva’s benefit as well as his,” he replies. “She is anxious on his behalf. I understand the agony of her heart, because I felt the same agony while you were suffering.”
Between their struggles and Serylla’s disappearance, my heart is heavier than usual. Much as I might like to have fun with my dragon again, I’m mentally exhausted, and my body is simply too tired for any level of arousal. After partaking of the last scraps of food and a couple of fish Rothkuri left for us, my dragon and I curl up in our nest and sleep.
Ashvelon leaves early the next morning. I feel the rush of his body shifting into dragon form and the breeze from his wings as he departs. The cave feels hollow and cold without him.
I have no choice but to admit to myself that I don’t merely love Ashvelon—I am fucking obsessed with him. I depend on him. I need him. I want him with me all the time, which is something I’ve never been able to say about anyone, not even Katlee.
Maybe the connection we have is unhealthy.
Maybe I don’t give a fuck if it is.
Maybe it’s just what I need right now… but I suspect it’s what I will need for the rest of my life.
I miss him all day. I prowl the cave restlessly, tidying and organizing everything, napping occasionally, and sipping from my last bottle of wine while inwardly bemoaning the fact that I can’t get more.
Back in Devil’s Kiss, there was a tavern called the Jolly Merrow where I would go for such liquid supplies. After I moved into the cottage and began to frequent the place, the owner started ordering some particularly fine wines because she knew I would enjoy them. She was a brusque woman, not one for much conversation, but a decent sort.
Perhaps tomorrow Ashvelon and I can make a trip to the coast for some wine, although I suppose with Rahzien and Kyreagan at odds, the mainland might not be safe for dragons. Maybe we could land in a quiet cove where he can shift and getdressed. We could walk to the town, enjoy the market, and make a stop at the tavern.
The idea of browsing a market with Ashvelon delights me greatly. I can imagine how curious he would be about everything. I would drape his broad shoulders with fine cloaks, fling gold chains around his neck, and put broad-brimmed hats on his head—big ones with long plumes. I would make him try on boots. I would buy colorful candies and skewers of roasted meat, and I would pop bits of the delicacies into his mouth, just to watch his reaction. There would be no pressure for me to perform any spells. We could feign the life of a normal human couple.
It would be the best day I’ve had in a long time. We both deserve a good fucking day.
Around sunset I stretch out in the nest and try to get my mind to focus on one of the books Ashvelon brought back from the cottage. He must have selected books at random, and unfortunately he chose some of the ones that were already on the bookshelf in the cottage when I began renting it—volumes about herb gardens, agriculture, brick-laying, and sea creatures. Not a single fairytale or naughty romance among them. I shall have to teach him what to look for in the future.
