by Riley Storm
He said he never wanted to see you again.
Well, he was just going to have to suck it up. She was going to find a way to prove to him that she did care for him. That she hadn’t been faking her feelings. And he was going to believe her. Somehow.
She hurried down the stairs and across the courtyard toward the building that housed the dragon quarters. There was enough time for her to talk to him. The excuse that she was leaving on patrol would be good, she told herself. The two of them could talk for a short period and then she would go, leave for four days, giving them both time to think, to get over it.
Her hopeful thoughts came to a screeching halt as a body interposed itself between her and the stairs that led up to the dragon quarters.
“Can I help you?”
“Damien,” she said, recognizing the tall storm dragon, the first to ever land at Winterspell. He was a bit of a legend, even if he wasn’t the leader of the dragons. Everyone knew who he was, and the fact that he had paired up with a witch just helped to lend him more fame. “I need to see Rane.”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” the big man said, shifting to block her path as she tried to get around him.
“What?” Natasha frowned, trying to get around him again, but the dragon effortlessly interposed himself between her and the stairs. “Why are you doing this?”
“He doesn’t want to see you,” Damien said coolly. “I don’t know what you did, but you hurt him. You aren’t welcome here. Leave.”
Natasha bit her lip. “Listen, Damien. I need to talk to him. He needs to see the truth, the reasoning. I—”
“No.”
The single word cut her off harshly. She watched Damien’s face, looking for any sign of weakness, anything that she could use to try and worm her way into the dragon quarters.
He gazed back with an expression carved of stone.
Natasha sagged. There was no way he was going to let her in, she could see that. He was protecting one of his own and thought she was the threat. There was nothing she could do. It was going to have to wait.
“Fine,” she said quietly. “I’ll go.”
“Good.”
She turned to walk away. Boot steps scraped on the stone floor behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Damien follow her.
“You don’t need to escort me out,” she snapped. “I know the way.”
“I’m not,” he rumbled. “I’m going out on patrol. The courtyard is this way.”
Natasha moaned. She had to put up with him on patrol as well, deal with his angry glares and all? “How lovely this is going to be,” she muttered.
“I take it you’re going as well then?” he asked.
“Just my luck.”
Natasha frowned. Maybe it was her luck. Perhaps this was her chance. She could explain everything to Damien and use the time away from Winterspell to get the storm dragon on her side, to help her convince Rane that she hadn’t meant to hurt him. That she did have feelings for him—even if she was still terrified of what that would mean.
Her spine straightened just a little as they marched outside.
Perhaps…perhaps there was hope after all. Now all she had to do was get back from the patrol in one piece.
Chapter Thirty-One
Rane
He finished toweling off, ignoring the reddened skin, knowing that the scalding hot shower had been necessary to clean several days’ worth of grime and stress off him.
He did feel better, but only somewhat. It was a sunny day and as he walked back into his quarters, Rane flung open the blinds, letting as much sunlight flow in as he could.
It didn’t do anything to improve his mood, but it also didn’t hurt it.
Tossing the towel over the back of a chair, he stretched, feeling muscles and tendons awaken as he used them.
“Ahhh,” he sighed, unsure of what had lifted his zombie-like burden, but glad for the little respite.
His heart still pulsed with pain, but perhaps, perhaps this was the first sign that he was starting to get over it, to cope with the hurt.
“Maybe I’ll even go talk to Damien today,” he thought aloud, finishing dressing.
Then he remembered that the storm dragon was heading out on yet another patrol. Damien was gone as often as he was at Winterspell lately, heading out on every patrol he could. Not that Rane blamed him. Too many of their kin remained scattered around the mountains, and winter was only deepening.
They’re out there struggling to survive, and here I am wandering around like a wounded animal over a human woman.
Rane sighed. He would go out on patrols too, if they let him. But they hadn’t as of yet.
There was a knock on his door.
“I’m awake, Rokh. But I don’t want to talk to you. Go away,” he called, not in the mood for another one of the fire dragon’s lectures. He was well aware that the party was only two days away now.
There was more pounding on the door, and the sound of multiple voices outside. Rane frowned as he noted that detail. The knocking itself felt light for a dragon. What was going on?
He started to head toward the door when he heard the lock opening. His eyes widened as the latch on the inside flicked open as well.
Magic.
The door burst open just as he made the connection, and witches poured into his quarters, wands and staffs leveled at him. They were shouting at him, telling him to put his hands down, to surrender immediately. They spread out, encircling him, leaving him at the center, untouched but confronted by their magic.
“What the hell is the meaning of this?” he bellowed, dropping into a combat stance. Lightning flickered dangerously between his fingertips as he prepared to defend himself.
There were a lot of witches, and all of them were ready to fight. Rane didn’t want to hurt anyone but he knew that it would not be easy to prevent casualties if he was forced to take them on. He would need every advantage he could get.
None of them answered his question. Rane spun slowly, evaluating his odds. “Tell me what the meaning of this intrusion is! I demand an answer,” he growled, refraining from saying out loud what he would do if they didn’t give him one.
Power sparked from one hand to the other, making his point clear without words. Several of the witches blanched and their wands wavered, but none of them backed down. He frowned. Whatever they were here for, they were more afraid of retreating than they were of him, that much was clear. Strength in numbers was helping their cause as well.
Then there was a stirring behind him. Not so much a sound, but a feeling, a ripple. Someone else was there.
“Rane. Storm Dragon. Guest of Winterspell. You are under arrest,” a voice said calmly as its owner walked into the room with the casual air of a victorious conqueror.
“For what?” he snarled, not giving in as he faced the owner, recognizing them instantly. “I have done no wrong.”
“For the attempted murder of the Coven and the witches of Winterspell,” Master Loiner said, fixing him with a vicious glare.
“I haven’t attempted to hurt anyone,” he growled, the room thickening with static electricity as his power bled out into the air around him.
“Not yet,” Loiner said. “But you stand accused.”
She flicked her wand and a tiny blue spark shot out, making a beeline for Rane. He dodged aside, ready to evade if it came back, but the spell continued on. It headed straight for his bed and the storage chest underneath it.
Rane frowned. He didn’t have many possessions; the chest was mostly empty. It only contained…
Fuck.
Now he understood what was going on, what the witch was after and why she was invading his room.
“Well, well, well,” Loiner said as she waltzed past him, tugging on the chest to pull it out from under the bed. “What do we have here?”
“I believe it’s a chest. A trunk. Perhaps a box,” he said calmly.
“And what’s in it?”
Rane’s eyes narrowed.
How could she possibly know what was in it?
“A couple of trinkets that I don’t have a place for out here,” he said. “Why do you ask? What do you think is in there?”
He doubted he’d get anywhere, but it was worth a try.
“I think we’re going to find proof of your treasonous nature. You and all your fellow dragons,” Loiner said, flipping the top open. “Aha, what’s this?”
“Interesting that you would know exactly where to find it,” Rane said, knowing he didn’t have much of a chance, but playing his only card anyway.
The witches were all likely Loiner supporters, so none of them would care that she knew exactly where to search, but he had to try.
“Why, this is plans for an attack on the Coven’s chambers. And the rest of Winterspell itself,” Loiner said, not bothering to act surprised in the slightest.
“And you just happened to know they were in my quarters, did you?” he asked. “Tell me, Loiner, how many other rooms did you search first I wonder? Any of them? Or did you come straight here, straight to me? Almost as if you knew where you were going. As if you knew.”
Rane was angry at himself. For not destroying the papers, but also for believing in Natasha, believing that she wouldn’t sell him out after he let her go.
I should have known better.
Darkness covered his soul, and his desire to fight went out. Rane stood up, the air clearing of its static charge, his power fading.
“See how he doesn’t fight? He knows he has lost. That we have found out what he and the others are up to,” Loiner said. “Take him away.”
Rane was marched out into the hallway at wand-point. By now, other dragons had gathered but he realized it didn’t matter. Loiner had arrived with a veritable army of witches. They filled the hallway, preventing anyone from coming to his aid.
“Back to your rooms,” she called. “You are all under suspicion of treason, and this wing has been placed under lockdown. You will remain in your rooms while the trial of your ringleader is conducted. If he is found guilty, so shall the rest of you. Anyone who tries to act out, will find themselves…punished.”
Rane just shook his head, snorting at the ridiculousness of it all. “And when am I to be put on trial?” he asked, rolling his eyes as he was marched out of the dragon section. “How long will this sham trial last, I wonder?”
“It will start immediately,” Loiner said as she walked past him, clapping her hands together gleefully. “And it will last as long as it takes to prove your guilt.” She paused, turning to grin at him.
“So not long, I suspect.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Natasha
The patrol landed at the Outpost and began to break apart.
Ignoring the other witches, Natasha walked past them to the western edge of the Outpost’s informal border. She looked out across the flat ground to what lay beyond her, close to the edge of the cliff face.
There it was, hanging in midair, a slow pulsing blob of silverish energy. The portal that had brought the dragons to Earth from their homeland of Dracia. A place that they could never go back to.
“It looks so harmless,” she whispered. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen the portal. Most patrols of the mountains spent the night at the Outpost, and she’d already been out once since the dragons arrived. Still, it was an interesting sight.
Apparently, it had been dozens of feet wide at its peak, though now it was little more than six inches wide. Nothing could come through it, as far as they all knew, though that didn’t prevent the witches and dragons from permanently stationing some of their number at the Outpost to guard against it.
After all, according to reports, something had managed to get through in the immediate aftermath. Only the combined forces of dragons and witches had defeated them.
Natasha was glad she hadn’t been a part of that fight. The Infected, they were called. A parasite that took over a person’s mind, adding them to the host, and attacking everything nearby in an attempt to create more. It was…unnerving. If the portal ever opened completely, she knew they would be in deep trouble.
Millions of the things were on the other side, according to Rane at least. The rest of his people, the population of his planet. All lost to the Infected. It was terrible.
She turned to go inside, the memory of Rane distracting her from the cold magic that had created the portal. Her stomach was growling and she was ready for some food. They had spent the entire day soaring high above the mountains, looking for signs of creatures from the Abyss, or perhaps other dragons living nearby, but had found nothing.
They would take a break for the evening and resume in the morning. The barriers between Earth and the Abyss were weakest in the winter, and with the season approaching its peak, there would be little rest for the patrols. They would leave at first dawn. That left little time for her to eat and get some sleep.
If I can sleep.
Her brain had been occupied during the day with maintaining her place in formation and scouring the lands below. Now that it was free to wander, however, Natasha feared for her dreams that night. She didn’t want to have a nightmare, to wake up in a cold sweat, but she wondered if she could avoid it.
Rane. Everything centered around him. She centered around him. Her entire being was missing him, missing their conversations, their walks, his touch. Everything about him was missed by some part of her, and it was growing stronger with every passing hour. What was she supposed to do about it though? He had cast her out of his life, and she deserved it after what she’d done.
“Hey, Sara,” she said, lining up behind her friend for food. Maybe a conversation about something else would distract her for a bit.
“Oh. Hi.”
Natasha frowned as Sara barely acknowledged her presence.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, keeping her voice low, so that the others wouldn’t know Sara was bothered.
Sarah didn’t even bother to turn around. “No, I’m fine.”
“Certainly doesn’t seem like you’re fine. Come on, talk to me, Sar. What’s going on? I can help you,” she urged.
“I told you, I’m fine.” Sarah stepped forward as the line moved along.
Natasha straightened, wondering what she was missing. The two hadn’t had much of a chance to interact during the day, but this was the first patrol they had flown together. She had been looking forward to spending time together this evening. A welcome distraction from her other issues.
“Did something happen that I missed?” Natasha asked, deciding to keep pushing.
“I said I’m. Fine.”
The cold tone sounded just like Izzy had that morning.
Natasha bit her lip as she made the connection.
“What’s going on, Sara, why are you ignoring me?” she asked coldly, wondering if she could at least get the other woman to admit openly that was what she was doing. Then at least Natasha would have confirmation of what was going on.
How much longer am I going to be paying for this? Isn’t the destruction of my relationship with Rane punishment enough?
Of course, it wasn’t, she knew that, not to someone like Loiner who rarely stopped short of destroying someone’s life if she could. Natasha had watched it happen. In the past, she’d assume the witch had earned such treatment, but now, being on the other side of it, she wondered about the truth of it all.
“You need to get your shit together, Natasha,” Sara said quietly. “You’ve been acting weird lately.”
Natasha frowned, but before she could speak, Sara continued on.
“Maybe after that damn dragon is finally gone, you’ll come to your senses,” Sara added in a bitter voice.
Rane? Gone? The dragons weren’t leaving. Were they? Natasha needed to find out more.
“What are you talking about?” she hissed, drawing a look from several of the witches permanently stationed at the Outpost. “Where is he going?”
“So, you do care for him,” Sara said with a sad
shake of her head. “I thought it was just a joke, you know. That the others were playing a trick. There’s no way Natasha could be that stupid, I told myself. I tried to defend you, you know.”
Natasha recoiled. “Defend me from whom? What the hell are you talking about? What others?”
Sara shook her head, falling silent.
Without thinking, Natasha’s hand slipped into her robe, closing around her wand. Something was going on back at Winterspell. Something to do with the dragons. She had a terrible idea of what it might be, but she needed confirmation.
“What is happening, Sara?” she asked icily. “Tell me. Now.”
The other woman turned in line, green eyes blazing.
“It was you,” Natasha said quietly, things clicking into place. “You were the one who broke into the dragon quarters that Rane was talking about.”
She suddenly understood more. “You were supposed to plant those papers, the forged documents. But you got caught. No wonder you’re so pissy toward the dragons,” she said, nodding slowly.
Sara’s eyes glittered dangerously, but she didn’t say anything.
Natasha’s wand came out and she jabbed it into Sara’s side, using her body to shield the motion from any of the other witches in the room.
“What is happening back at Winterspell?” she growled, preparing a spell in case Sara resisted.
The witch’s eyes went wide as she realized what Natasha was doing. “You’re crazy.”
“I said tell me.”
Sara looked at the wand, obviously wondering if she could test Natasha. Driving home her point, she pushed the wand into her ex-friend harder.
I wonder if I ever had any friends? Any real friends. Or were they all just using me, like Loiner?
Natasha had thought that by associating with Loiner, she’d gained some friends, a place that she could be herself and also get ahead at Winterspell. As it was turning out, it seemed more and more like all she’d done was give up a part of who she was.
A big part.
“They’re putting Rane on trial,” Sara spat coldly. “If they know what’s good for them, they’ll toss him and all the dragons out of Winterspell. Or better yet, back through the portal that brought them here. Get rid of them for good.”
