Page 36 of Heavy is the Crown
My dragon is still vibrating under my skin, despite Ava’s brother being gone. My hands shake, and the need to smoke is crushing me. Those demons laugh loudly in my head. Reminding me that despite my best efforts to keep her safe, Ava is in danger. That because I am who I am, she'll die. After Jax left, Ava briefly explained that her magic, should she deplete fully, would kill her if she didn’t gain more. I curl my fists tightly and breathe deep, focusing on keeping control until I can get out of this room.
Fuck, she’s going to die.That was a small piece of knowledge that Drago did not pass along to me when he told me how important it was for her not to use her magic anymore.But she told you long ago she needed us, she needed our magic, my dragon reminds me. I’m angry at Drago for not telling me justhow bad off she is, but I’m also furious he doesn’t just mate her and save her.
I must move up my timetable. Even if my dragon is fighting against it. Even if my heart is aligning with the beast.
The music from the club outside filters into the general quiet our group is holding. “You’re a fucking asshole, Drago, you had no right to call him!” I snap my head over to Ava, who is sitting on her couch, a drink in hand. It’s the first thing she’s said since she explained the magic.
Drago leans against her desk, arms crossed, watching the two of us. “I had every right,” he says in that deadly calm voice. “You were disappearing in on yourself, I was losing both my mates. So, I reached out to someone I hoped could help me.”
She throws the wine glass she was drinking out of, and the pieces shatter just beyond Drago’s form as he ducks. That red liquid runs down the wall like blood. My hand twitches at the sight. Drago looks furious at her but doesn’t make a move.
Ava rarely gets angry, but when she does, she is a force to be reckoned with. She’s a ball of fury at this moment, fists clenched at her sides, trembling as she holds herself back. The scent of her magic, just below her skin, fills the air. It’s intoxicating. My dragon yearns for her, desperate for a taste of that scent.
“You. Had. No. Right,” she says again. Then her eyes widen, and she lets out a bark of a laugh. “Holy shit. And here I was, an anxious mess about telling you both who I was, and you had already fucking talked to my gods damn brother!”
My stepbrother appears calm, but I can see how on edge his body is. His dragon is just below the surface. He drinks from the crystal tumbler in his hand, and the amber liquid disappears quickly. “The moment I discovered you were my mate was the moment I had the right. I won’t apologize for that.”Idiot.My stepbrother is a fucking idiot. Even I know this is the time to grovel.
She goes to open her mouth, but I intervene. Shaking my head, I say, “He’s right, Ava. He had an obligation to protect you. And if he thought Jackson could help you, he did what he should have.”
Her furious silver eyes jerk toward me, burning holes into my soul even as they flash with pain at my statement. “He knew where to find me because Drago had contacted him! What do you think would have happened if he had found me alone?” she yells. “I would have had no chance to stand against my brother's magic. You would rather he drag me back and you never see me again?”
“If it means you are safe from me? Yes,” I say with conviction. The words kill me slowly as they leave my mouth.
I push off the wall and head toward the exit, desperate to get away from them. Their scents invading my nostrils make it difficult to think, to stay calm. The half-completed bond between Drago and me demands attention, alongside the one I started so long ago with Ava. The feeling is maddening. It’s shoving at me constantly.
(“I Love You, I’m Trying” – Grandson)
“Fine. Fucking run. I keep saying, someday, it’ll be too late. I mean that, Shadow. Someday, you are going to turn around, and I won’t fucking be here,” she whispers in anger, her voice cracking. I don’t need to see her to know there are tears shining in those silver eyes.
I pause for only a moment, noting a sense of desperation, of anguish. But I don’t say anything, I just stand frozen in the push-pull of our triadic relationship. Her body shoves past mine, her lilac scent painfully assaulting my head as she escapes the room.
Part of me wants her to turn around as I watch her leave through the door that leads to her apartment. It’s screaming for her to see the broken man standing behind her, to show me I’m still worth fighting for. But she doesn’t, and it cracks somethingopen in me that spills out thick heartache. The sludge sinks into my chest, pulling me deeper and deeper into a pit of my own creation. I squeeze my eyes shut against it.It’s better this way. Her hating me. It’s better.
“It’s not you; she lashed out because of me,” Drago says from behind me. His voice sounds tired. It only adds to the feeling. The overwhelming feeling of failure. Drago has been holding us together this whole time. How much longer until he falls under the pressure?
As I reach for the door, Drago calls out, a strange rasp in his voice, “Don’t do it.”
As if he knows what I’m about to do. I don’t stop, don’t turn around, but flee out the door up to the roof instead.
Standing on the roof of Ava’s club, I look around the skyline as I take a long drag of the Eufori. The red haze swirls into my vision as it floods my veins with chemical relief. My hands are still, no longer shaking. But my dragon and my own inner monologue stay loud. Taunting me. Pushing me. Refusing to give me a moment's peace.
A tremor overtakes my hand again as I forcibly keep it from the blade wrapped up in my pocket. Of course, I know it would help, the satisfaction of feeling the blade, of seeing the blood, and the numbness that comes after. But I’m trying so hard to conquer at least one of my addictions.Although it doesn’t really matter if I’m leaving, does it?
“My sister deserves better than someone who refuses to fight their demons.” I spin around and see Jackson just behind me. “You’ve got one foot out the door, I can see it in your eyes.” I’mnot sure if he means metaphorically or in reality; either way, he’s right.
I take another drag of the cigarette and wonder if holding the chemical in my lungs longer will make the reality of the situation more bearable. Or maybe the deep burn will be enough to scratch the itch crawling up my spine.
I finally blow out the smoke, and the red vapor obscures Jackson’s face for a moment.
He continues to gaze out at the city below us, his blond hair moving in the wind. “I want the name of every person who touched her. I will kill them all.” This. This man right here is the king of Hell, his power radiating off him in dark waves. Even my dragon is cautious of him.
“They are dead already,” I say.
A nod is all I get. “Then I owe you thanks. But that doesn’t change the fact that she’ll die if she stays here.”
I freeze at the words, desperate to ignore them, knowing I’m to blame.Because I am always to blame for my loved ones’ suffering.
“Do you know how our magic works, shifter?” he asks.
