by D T Dyllin
“When you are ready to know what I am, then you’ll be ready to know what I want from you. Until then, you can know nothing more than that one day you will belong to me.”
I raised my chin to meet his eyes defiantly, despite the tremor of fear coursing through my veins. “I’m already Bryn’s. He belongs to me, and I belong to him.”
Khol grunted. “It’s time for me to go . . . for now.” And just like usual, he simply disappeared.
I stared wide-eyed into the darkness of my room, the depth of it seeming that much deeper with the absence of Khol and his luminescent green eyes. I had so much to think about and none of the emotional experience to deal with any of it. A part of me longed for the innocent times before I had figured out my feelings for Bryn and we had slept together. To me, that night at Ryan’s party was a clear demarcation of before and after, simple and complicated. I may not have officially been with Bryn, but I’d at least had him in my life, and without Khol and Jeremy hanging around trying to muck everything up, not to mention guys like the still un-named punk from Ryan’s party and Eddie from school. I used to think I wanted attention from guys, and well, what is it they say? Be careful what you wish for. And going along with that line of thought, I had once wished so hard to come into my abilities as a Seer. That night at Ryan’s didn’t just mark a change for my romantic life but my life in general, because it was that night at Jenna’s when I’d had my very first vision.
I was tired of not doing anything. I hadn’t done anything when Bryn was sent away. I hadn’t done anything about the visions I’d been given. I hadn’t done anything but lay around and feel sorry for myself, and I was tired of it. But what could I do, really? I was just one eighteen-year-old teenage girl with no remarkable powers beyond having visions. My gift seemed to mirror the state of my life. I was a perpetual spectator, and I didn’t know how to join the game.
I’d lain awake all night, ruminating about what I could do about all of the many issues I was facing, trying to formulate some kind of plan to take some action, and I’d come up with nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zero. And now I found my mind wandering to thoughts of Bryn. He was never far from my mind lately, even when I was liplocked with someone else. I lost myself so much in my imaginings that I could almost touch him, smell his scent wrapped around me as if I were really in his arms. It reminded me that even though I was attracted to both Khol and Jeremy, Bryn was home. And I would always choose him over anyone else—always. Missing him so much was torture. I hadn’t been separated from him for more than a few days since we were kids. It was truly like losing a part of myself. Nothing seemed exactly real without him to share it with. He was the one person who I always ran to tell all about anything of importance. Not being able to share the recent events of my visions made them all seem like a dream, I realized. Everything felt completely surreal without Bryn. I pushed my face deeper into my pillow and sobbed.
“Oh, peanut,” my mother’s pained voice said as the bed shifted under her weight. I just wished she’d go away. I didn’t want comfort from one of the people who had ripped Bryn from my life. It was partly her fault I was so miserable.
Her small hands softly stroked my hair. “I know you’re upset now, but it’s for the best, you’ll see.” I had to fight the urge to lift the pillow from my head and scream at her. Instead, I burrowed deeper into the comforting fluff. “It could be worse. At least you didn’t end up pregnant, and then you’d have to marry the first Seer descendant or Gatekeeper that would have you. At least this way you won’t have to live a lie the rest of your life. You can move on from your mistake.” I’m not really sure what it was that tipped me off. Maybe it was the catch in my mother’s voice, or the knowing way she seemed to speak, but that’s when it hit me.
I slowly lifted my face from my pillow, my eyes widening to twice their normal size. “Oh my God,” I whispered with shock. “Oh. My. God. Is that what happened to you? Am—am I even Daddy’s real daughter?”
“Of course you’re your father’s, don’t be ridiculous. I just knew . . . a friend . . . a friend that had that happen, is all,” my mother snapped with as much indignance she could muster, but she wasn’t fooling me. I could see the panic that hid beneath the surface of her faux anger. I’d hit it right on the nail. Holy shit . . . I wasn’t even biologically the daughter of the man I’d grown up thinking was my father.
I reached over and grabbed my mom’s hand. “Tell me,” I demanded. “I have a right to know. Wait—does Daddy know? Does he know I’m not really his?” My mother’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and she looked at me with tears welling in her eyes. It was then, for the first time, it occurred to me how young my mom was in comparison with all my other friends’ moms. “How old were you?”
“I love your father. I don’t want you to ever doubt that,” she stated with a shaky voice. “It’s just I was young—so young—and he was—well, he was—he was like nothing I’d ever seen before.”
“He couldn’t have been a Guardian, that much I know, because I would’ve been a boy,” I interjected, speaking my thoughts out loud.
“No, you’re right. Your father”—her voice shook—“your biological father, I mean—he wasn’t human. Or not like any human I’d ever met before. He had these eyes—these iridescent blue eyes—and powers I’ve never seen before or since. He, well, I couldn’t seem to resist him.” My mom swallowed and looked away, unable to meet my gaze. “I gave myself to him completely. I thought I was in love. I would have done anything to be with him. But when I found out I was pregnant, he disappeared. I never heard from him again.” My mother’s tears spilled from her eyes. “He just left me all alone. I didn’t know what I was going to do, and then . . .” She paused to compose herself, wiping the tears that were flowing down her cheeks. “Your daddy . . . well, he was in love with me, and when he found out I was in trouble, he wanted to take care of me, of us.”
“What was his name, my father?” His eyes . . . although they weren’t iridescent green like Khol’s, I knew the second my mother had described him that whatever Khol was, my biological father had been as well. The shock of what that meant coursed through my system. “I’m not even fully human?” It came out sounding like a question, but it was meant more as a statement.
“You’re human—you’re my daughter—”
“And something else. I’m human, and something else.” My voice started getting all shrill like it did sometimes when I was freaking out. And let me tell you—I was freaking out.
“Yes, but—”
I didn’t let her finish. She didn’t even know what I was. She didn’t have the answers that I really needed, but I knew who did. “What was my father’s name?” I asked again, my voice going up another octave.
“Dragos. His name was Dragos.” My mother wore a defeated look on her face. “But he doesn’t matter. The only father you need to know about is the one who raised you.”
“I need to know what I am. Can’t you understand that? It changes so many things. What if—what if I can’t even have Seer children? Isn’t that the only reason why I supposedly can’t be with Bryn? Because of my duty? But what if that doesn’t even matter?”
“No, no, that’s not how it works. That’s—”
“You’re in denial. That’s what all of this is. You don’t wanna face the fact that none of the rules may apply to me. Get out. Leave me alone,” I growled. A part of me hated seeing my mother cry, but a larger part felt even more betrayed than I had before. How could she have kept this from me?
She silently stood and made her way to my door, her face pale and her lips pressed together in a thin line. “I love you, my little peanut. None of this changes that. And your daddy—none of that matters to him. You’re his daughter, and he loves you, too.” I didn’t respond, and I didn’t look at her; I just waited until my door clicked to signal she’d left.
“Khol,” I growled. “I know yo
u can hear me, or sense me, or whatever. Get your ass here now.”
He appeared in my room like he always did. One minute he wasn’t there and the next he was. His green eyes glowed in the dark as he peered down at me. “So you know,” he stated without any preamble.
“Yeah, I do. At least the bit that I’m obviously part whatever you are. Care to share with me whatever that is now?” I glared at him, every muscle in my body tense as I waited for his answer.
“You are half Arach. Your father and I are both full blooded. We are what you might call Dragon.” Dragon? This isn’t real. Dragons don’t really exist. “And most people wouldn’t believe you exist, either, or the creatures you’ve been having visions of exist.” Khol smiled tightly as he studied my face for a reaction.
“Is that why my powers called to yours? Because of what I am?” I asked numbly. It was like a part of me was in complete shock, and at the same time, there were so many questions that seemed imperative to ask.
“Yes, and why you awakened not just me.”
“So you can, like, turn into a dragon?”
Khol nodded once tightly. “Yes, a Dragon is my other form.”
Other form? My head was spinning. “Can I? Or will I be able to . . . ?” My voice trailed off, not able to truly fathom the possibility.
“No. You were born with only one form. It’s very rare for a mixed blood to have a second form.”
I laughed tightly, on the verge of hysteria. “Good to know. I—” The room began to spin, but I pushed on with my questions. “What do you want with me? Really?”
Khol dropped to his knees in front of me, cupping my face with his hands, locking gazes with me. “With my kind—our kind—when the female is ready to find a . . . mate, she sends out a call with her magic, letting the male Dragons know she is willing. The strongest and most powerful have rights to her first, the right to try to claim her. I want to be your mate, P.J.”
“Mate? What does that even mean?” I squeaked.
“I’m attempting to explain in a way that you might understand. The bond I’m referring to—we call it Anam Cara—loosely translated it means soul friend or soul mate. Humans have been using our term for centuries, but it means so much more for a Dragon—more than mere words. It refers to the soul-deep bond we form with our desired partner. Our kind, once we find our desired partners, bond for the rest of our days.”
“And how long is that? How old are you exactly? How old am I going to live to be?” If I were a computer, I’d have been reading Error, error, does not compute.
“A very, very long time.”
“Oh.” Bryn—what about Bryn? At first I thought my new found heritage might enable me to be with Bryn, but what if it meant he would die centuries before I did? “When all others turn to dust, there will only be you and me.” I mumbled the words Khol had said to me the last time I’d seen him. “That’s what you meant, isn’t it?” I looked at him sharply. “You don’t care that I’m in love with Bryn now, because you think once he dies, it’ll be just us, that I won’t have a choice.” Oh no. The thought of me burying Bryn tore at my insides.
“Yes, you’ll come to me eventually, and I’ll claim what rightfully belongs to me.” Kohl’s eyes blazed brighter. “I would prefer to have you now, to make you my Anam Cara, but I can be patient when I need to be.”
So many things that Khol had said to me were beginning to make sense. “And why do you think that I’m going to be yours? Even if I go along with the logic that my magic calls to yours, and that I’m eventually going to crave more—I’m assuming that has to do with our shared blood—then why you? Why not some other Dragon?”
A low animal-like growl escaped from Khol, and his voice seemed to echo inside my head as well as outside of it. “I am Lord Kholkikos, ruler of the Rua Arach, and you will be mo Anam Cara.”
“Lord, huh? Well, aren’t you special? Isn’t there a king or something? Why are you the ruler of, well, of whatever you just said?”
Kohl studied me for a moment, and I raised my chin defiantly at him as I met his gaze. His lips turned up slightly at the corners. “I do like the fact that you are so . . . feisty. I find that an extremely attractive, and yet completely annoying, character trait.” I scrunched my face up at him, and he chuckled. Glad I could amuse. “Rua Arach means Red Dragon, and no, there are no kings, only Lords of each faction—the red, the black, the silver, and the gold.”
My curiosity piqued again, I temporarily dismissed Khol’s display of testosterone-generated possessiveness. “Red Dragon—is that what I am, too?”
Khol’s hand snaked out to take some of my hair in his hand, and he wrapped it around his knuckles, pulling me closer. “You may deepen its shade, but you can always tell what faction a Dragon is by the color of their hair. The older a Dragon is, the deeper the shade of their hair becomes. One day you won’t need to darken your hair any longer. It will be this way naturally.”
“Really?” I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face, and I immediately chastised myself. With everything else that was going on, I was worried about my hair? Ugh. Vanity be thy name. “So, still, that brings me back to my earlier question: Why do you think I’m going to be yours? Who’s to say I wouldn’t choose another Dragon Lord, like maybe a black, or silver, or—is that why you’re so hot all the time?” My face flushed. “Temperature-wise I mean? And I swear I saw flames in your eyes before. Is that—”
“No,” Khol growled again. “You belong with me. You will be my Anam Cara—mo Anam Cara.” He ignored my other questions and tugged me by my hair closer still. “I am the strongest of the Red Dragons, and you belong with your own kind.” His lips met mine with a brutality I’d never experienced before. His teeth scraped against mine, and his tongue dove into my mouth to claim and possess, not merely explore. I cried out as he pressed himself into me, the heat of his body engulfing me and making me crave more.
It felt so right, and yet—Bryn—I could never betray Bryn so completely. I shoved at Khol, and he reluctantly relinquished possession of me. “You said not without my permission,” I growled at him, barely recognizing my own voice. “And you don’t have it. Only Bryn does.”
Khol’s eyes crackled with flame briefly as he studied me. “Have you lost your trust in me then?”
I remembered what he said before: if I lost trust in him, then he’d claim what he felt was his—me. But if I trusted him because he wanted my trust, he wouldn’t cross that line. “No. I trust you to back off now that I’ve warned you.”
Khol smiled ever so slightly and nodded with approval. “You learn the game quickly, my little Seer.” With that, he decided to just up and poof away again.
“Hey,” I called. “I had more questions for you.” The marked silence was my only answer, and I heaved a huge sigh. Lately, every time I thought my life couldn’t get more complicated, the universe proved me wrong.
13
High school is a joke. What’s the point of it anyways? What have I ever learned there except how cruel other people can be? I thought about how much I hated my school, or more aptly, the people in it, as I morosely studied the bright red scroll across my locker that declared me to be a slut. The culprit was probably somebody like Eddie, who wished the writing on the wall was just that. Maybe a couple of broken fingers would keep my tormentor from a repeat offense. Whoever said violence isn’t the answer obviously didn’t attend public school. A half Dragon descendant with a pesky alien invasion problem to worry about shouldn’t have to deal with such bullshit.
“Hey.” Jeremy’s voice pulled me from my inner musings of vigilante justice.
I quickly swiveled around and tried to block the words on my locker from his view. “Hey,” I muttered back, my face heating from the look on his, telling me I had, in fact, failed in hiding anything from him.
He pushed around me and scowled
down at my locker. “Who the hell did this?” he asked through clenched teeth.
I shrugged, looking at the ground. “Could be any one of many. Who can keep track of everyone who thinks I’m a slut at this school?”
Jeremy’s scowl deepened ☺. “Yeah, they just wish you were, from what I hear.”
“My thoughts exactly.” I started walking, hoping he would follow. I was tired of staring at my stupid locker.
“Well, at least it’s the end of the day, and with any luck, the janitor will have it cleaned off by morning,” Jeremy added hopefully.
“Yeah, okay,” I mumbled, already too low to be cheered up. My day had sucked once again. It was beginning to follow a pretty routine schedule of me being ostracized intermingled with being harassed. I might as well don a huge letter A on my chest to complete my transformation from relatively popular class senior to the most talked about and hated girl in my entire school. What really got me was that there were plenty of girls who actually did sleep around, and none of them were being persecuted the way I was. It just didn’t make sense to me. I figured if I actually were what everyone was accusing me of, then no one would say anything, but because it was a lie, everyone was torturing me for something I didn’t do. Ugh. I might still be in high school myself, but even I could admit that most of us were absolute idiots.
“So when do I get my second date?” Jeremy asked as he slid my bag off of my shoulder to carry it for me.
I eyed him thoughtfully as something occurred to me. Bryn was probably the hottest guy I’d ever laid eyes on, and he was mine. Now he had been shipped off, and Jeremy, the new hot guy, was falling all over himself to date me. Having seen myself in the mirror one or two times in the past eighteen years, I could see why no one would believe either of them would be into me unless I was putting out. I groaned at the realization.
