"We are warmongering creatures. I know our religions and beliefs teach us how women are superior and the kinder of the sexes, but we still raid villages to secure supplies when in need. How is that not violence?" Aryana was always on the opposing side when the witches considered raids, but they often ignored Kroasha's teachings out of convenience.
"Enough!" Enid said. "I will not have you defiling the name of our kind for the sake of him."
"Can't you see the hypocrisy? Please, release him."
Enid turned away. "I will send you some chores to do. Weapon-sharpening and basket-weaving, perhaps. That should give you something meaningful to use your time for."
Unable to control her anger anymore, Aryana kicked the chair in front of her. It toppled sideways, onto the floor, and made a screeching sound.
She knew she was behaving like a child. But this helplessness, having her hands tied, and the fear of losing him made her mind wild.
Blast it all, she didn't want to care about him so much, but she couldn't help but quiver at the thought of Enid lopping Diovan's head off.
Enid paused, then said, "I will give you some time to properly think about this."
Aryana gritted her teeth. "I have."
"There is a meeting later with my advisers concerning what to do about the Red Beast. As much as I believe you're not suited to be advising because of your current state, I'll have to include you in the meeting because of your status as second-in-command."
"Fine." Arayana made her way to the low table and took a swig of ale one of the males-in-waiting had prepared for her. She wanted to see Diovan and share her frustrations, but Enid wouldn't let her.
"I hope you will see reason, sister."
Aryana found herself drained from trying to convince Enid she was of perfectly sound mind. She sat down and drank more ale, looking at the ceiling and avoiding Enid's gaze.
She heard a loud sigh come from Enid. The tent's entrance flapped, signaling that Enid was leaving.
As Enid left the tent, she said, "I hope your behavior will be more… normal and contained when we meet with the others."
Still not facing Enid, Aryana replied, "Don't worry, I'll act like the perfect water witch, because anything different is deemed callous and unacceptable to you."
"I hope to see you well, Aryana."
Aryana strode over to her new mattress and covered herself with the blanket her peers had provided her.
Closing her eyes, she willed herself to sleep her anger and fear away.
Chapter 12
Aryana didn't care to look at the basket materials and weapons her had sister sent over. She wasn't used to chores like these. They were a pointless way to waste time. She preferred being out on the training grounds, yelling instructions and checking the battle form of recruits.
Instead, she sat one of her guards down and talked. At first, the witch was hesitant to converse. Aryana assumed Enid had instructed the guards not to talk. Still, Aryana was respected amongst their community and held some power in her position, so with enough coercion, the witch, Leiana, sat down next to her.
"Is there news of a dragon?" Aryana asked, picking up and inspecting an unsharpened knife. Only when she realized how threatening the action looked did she put the knife down. She didn't want to be viewed as a threat. It wasn't good for negotiations.
The woman's jaw tightened. "Are you referring to your new… your mate, seeker?"
"Yes, him. Gold-winged beast with an overly friendly personality."
The witch fidgeted too much. Leiana's lips quivered as she gave her response. "No, ma'am."
Aryana narrowed her eyes. "Are you lying to me?" She knew Diovan had been caught.
"No, of course not. I'd never lie to you, second seeker."
"Okay, then. Let's talk about something else. Are there any spells you'd like to learn? I'll teach you."
Leiana didn't look older than eighteen. The witch's repertoire of spells should be decent, as all water witches were well versed in spells, but definitely nowhere as large as Aryana's. She had almost ten years of experience on the young woman, and the tribe knew her as one of the most exceptionally gifted amongst them. She had doubted herself in the beginning, but soon came to realize that controlling magic came to her more easily than her counterparts.
The witch lit up. "A personal lesson, from you?"
"I have time to kill."
"Well, yes. Thank you. Oh, um, where to start? Where to start…"
Aryana folded her arms on top of the table, amused by her new apprentice's excitement. She did specialize in training, but usually, only the most brilliant recruits had the privilege of being trained by her. "How about the spells you have some difficulty with? Or any spells which you really like, and you'd like to know more variations of?"
"Variations?"
"Yes, many spells have modifiers to them, so they have a wider range of uses."
Leiana raised her brows, surprised by this new information. It wasn't common knowledge, especially amongst the younger ones, because the trainers preferred to keep things simple and more direct.
Leiana scratched the back of her head. "Oh, then how about this growth spell I've been working on? It's often used for plants…"
The conversation went on for a good hour. Arayana could tell the witch was warming up to her. They went through countless spells and variations. Aryana didn't think Leiana could absorb all of the information, but teaching wasn't exactly her main priority.
"So, about the dragon…"
Leiana froze and set her quill down, taking a pause from her scribbling. Nervous laughter sounded from the young woman's lips. "There's no news of your mate."
"You're lying. I won't tell anyone you snitched. You can trust me."
"I was under specific orders from the high seeker herself not to say anything." Leiana rested her hand over her lips. "I've said too much."
"Where is he?"
"I-I can't say."
Aryana studied the twitches on the young witch's face. Leiana wasn't good with deception, as with many water witches. Their kind was too direct and honest.
"You don't have to worry," Aryana said, inching closer to Leiana. She placed a hand over her shoulder. "I won't do anything—" Mid-sentence, Aryana reached forward and grabbed the string of soul beads hanging from Leiana's belt and chanted a quick spell. As Leiana yelped, Aryana bound her hands and feet with soul magic.
The flaps of the tent ruffled. She already had her next spell prepared. Immediately, as the intruders entered, Aryana cast her magic to bind them in place as well.
Except there was only one intruder, and he wasn't a witch.
"Would you mind releasing me?" Diovan said, standing in place. His hair fell over his face, and despite how unruly it was, it only served to make him more attractive.
"Diovan?" she said.
He flashed her the toothy grin that was his trademark. "After all the trouble I went through to meet you, this is how you greet me?"
She rushed up to him and hugged him. Her worry misted away. She inhaled sharply and buried her face in his chest. He smelled of the same sweet spiciness he always wore, and his skin was delectably warm to the touch.
"I really appreciate the sign of affection, and I'd love to hug you back, but my hands are kind of busy being tied by your magic here."
"Solbind henc paparis," she chanted. The luminous binds holding Diovan in place disintegrated. "How did you get in here? There were two other witches outside."
"Stealth. Just because I'm a dragon doesn't mean that I have to come flying in and breathing fire all the time. Human form does have it perks." He stroked her head.
"Let's get out of here before my sister sees you. She should be here any minute now, and from what I've heard, she's not accepting of you."
Diovan breathed a sigh. "That's putting it mildly."
"What did she do to you?" she asked.
"Tied me to a tree after seeing me naked. I didn't know she was into those kinds of fun."
"Happy accident. Really, my glorious body belongs to you. I know how much you like it."
"I appreciate the thought." She chanted a cloaking spell and rested it over the both of them. The spell wouldn't last for long. Inexperienced witches like the guard she'd stolen from weren't rationed as many souls as their elders. She walked outside the tent, and Diovan followed. "Where are they?"
"Who?" he asked, whispering even though he didn't need to.
"The witches you took out."
"In the bushes over there."
She crept to where he pointed, checking her back in case they were followed. The spell made them practically invisible, but sneaking around brought forth her natural instinct to be constantly vigilant. She peered over the bush to find three unconscious witches. She knelt down and took the soul beads from them.
Even though her talent with witchcraft allowed her to use souls more effectively, the cloaking spell required an immense amount of souls to carry out. Plus, she had to cloak two bodies. The combined beads of three water witches would give them a few minutes of unhindered sneaking, at most.
"She's bleeding," she said, studying the temple of one of the guards.
Diovan shrugged. "Dragon strength."
"You might have killed her."
"She's still breathing, isn't she? I can't exactly be delicate while trying to take someone out."
She huffed. "You could have been more careful." She spent some soul magic to speed up the healing process of the guard's temple. It'd clot up the blood wound, at least.
After wasting precious moments, she waved her hand, signaling for her and Diovan to leave. Behind them, Enid was already walking toward the tent.
And a red dragon flew overhead.
A dragon?
Aryana gaped at the sight. It took a while for Diovan to notice. When he looked at the Red Beast with his own eyes, his face paled.
She didn't see dragons as hostile, since her mate was one. So she felt more in awe than anxious at the sight of it.
Then the Red Beast landed in front of Enid, its enormous frame hulking over her sister. The force of the red dragon's rough landing shook the ground, unsteadying Aryana's feet.
It shot Enid a reptilian gaze and bared its fangs.
"Enid!" Aryana yelled, the gravity of the situation clicking in her mind.
She darted toward Enid as the dragon's nostrils smoked. She was mid-sprint and finishing a protection spell when she sensed flames brushing her skin. "Scuitum et caro!" She erected a shield in front of the flames. The clashing of the fire and her magic sent a thunderous sound into the air. Sudden pain slammed the breath out of her.
The impact flung her body across the ground. The landing sent another unbearable shock through her abdomen. She gasped for air, then blacked out.
One heartbeat.
Two.
Diovan's mind blanked, then recognition of what just happened hit him. His heart dropped before he sprang into action.
"No!" Diovan screamed, rushing to the folded form of his mate.
She lay lifeless on the ground. Terror like he'd never experienced before shook through him. Enid stood in front of the scene, shocked and gaping, staring like a buffoon. Fuck Enid and how she felt. Diovan sensed his world tilting, on the edge of toppling over and smashing into splinters.
"Aryana, Aryana? Please wake up." He was sobbing. Not a tear had fallen from his cheek since he was a dragonling. He palmed her cheek. Her skin was still warm, but she looked like she was losing color. Or was that his imagination?
She was lying so still…
He growled, turning his attention to the Red Beast, Joakim Grimfire—his father.
The Red Beast took to the sky, leaving behind a crumpled mass of knocked-over trees, tents, and injured witches. The temperature of the air rose, fueling the rage burning in Diovan.
Destruction burned with his father's fire.
Most witches were slow to react, but some of them had cast ice spells at the Red Beast. Diovan's father wasn't one to be easily taken down, however. He breathed fire into the icy blasts, canceling them out. Swiftly, the Red Beast took to the skies—his domain, where the witches found it much harder to hit him.
More dragons came. Ten, twenty, maybe even thirty. Soon, the Red Beast was camouflaged as a silhouette against the yellow sun, impossible to keep track of amongst the many other dragon silhouettes. Their wings blended together in a mesh of destruction, almost cloaking the entire encampment in darkness, reminding Diovan of harbingers of death.
"Aryana, please. It's not like you to be so still." His halfhearted joke didn't do much to help calm himself down. Inside, he panicked. He noticed the light movement of her chest.
She was alive.
"Take her away from here," Enid said to him, her voice stern and commanding. "It's not safe here."
Fire rained down upon them. The jungle burned, as witches ran screaming aflame.
Diovan looked up. "You're letting me go?"
"I'm letting you save my sister. Hurry. It's dangerous here."
He nodded, not wanting to waste time arguing. He called upon his dragon. His limbs morphed, and his pointed jaw protruded from his lips. He was careful not to step on Aryana, who lay beneath him as he shifted. His frame blocked flames from his unconscious mate like a protective canopy. Gently, he picked her up in his claw. He lengthened his wings and took to the skies.
Enid remained at the camp, shouting orders at other witches. She looked impressive in the way she handled the situation.
An enemy dragon blocked Diovan's way, but it was easy to muscle his way past it. His father only kept weak dragons in his clan because the stronger ones threatened his position. It was the reason why the Red Beast threw Diovan out as a child—because Joakim's own son had the potential to usurp him.
Diovan avoided the other dragons by either dodging them with his speed or pushing his way past. They didn't try to confront him after he moved through them. Many recognized a stronger opponent when they saw one.
He sighted his father, now that the sun lit the dragons from a different angle. Anger boiled in his blood once he laid eyes upon the Red Beast.
But also fear.
Memories from his childhood came swarming like bees to him, stinging him from every direction.
The torture… the broken limbs, healing back together in such strange positions that it required daily visits to the healer to fix them properly. The recollection of deep gashes over his flesh, digging deeper as his father tormented him.
Joakim didn't see Diovan, and continued raining firestorms over the witches. Revulsion crept through Diovan's belly. Looking at Joakim made Diovan want to throw up. His arms ached from the memories, even though they were now properly healed and intact.
He forced his gaze away and left the chaos behind him, Aryana cradled gently in his talons. A different fear spiked through him—fear for his mate's life.
Please be okay, he thought. His heart thumped haphazardly in his chest, and it felt like it might explode.
Chapter 13
Diovan gripped Aryana's hand tightly as she lay on his mattress. He liked the sight of her lying on his bed, his territory. It solidified the fact that she belonged to him. But he'd much rather her be conscious. The pattering of rain sounded from outside, thrumming in his ears. The place was neat, for once. After Aryana had settled down, he had forced his peers to clean up, and they didn't want to cross him, seeing as how he tethered on the edge of agitation.
"She's going to be all right," Cyrion said. "Mild concussion, that's all. She must have hit her head on something. Her ribs are slightly battered, but nothing she can't heal from."
Cyrion was the son of their witch doctor back in the Grimfire clan. He had learned some medical skills from his mother before he showed enough potential to be deemed a threat by Joakim. Cyrion was thrown out at an older age than most in their group, at thirty.
Still, thirty was a terribly young
age for a dragon. Cyrion was one of the first dragons Diovan had taken under his wing. The earlier outcasts didn't think to team up and help each other. Diovan started helping the newer ones because he couldn't stomach seeing helpless dragonlings fending for themselves in wild. Or worse—some of them gave in to their instincts and turned into killers. They ate unsuspecting humans and leveled entire villages as and when they pleased. He had taken care of a few of those dragons, either by beating them down until they dared not act out of line again, or by simply tearing their throats out, but many of them still roamed Ocharia.
"I don't like seeing her like this," Diovan said. His dragon didn't want to leave Aryana alone. It wouldn't stop worrying, despite Cyrion telling him she was fine.
Cyrion waved, as if swatting Diovan's worries away. "Oh, stop being so melodramatic. It's off-putting."
"I saw the Red Beast today."
"Joakim Grimfire?"
Diovan nodded. "He was the one who knocked Aryana out."
Cyrion's lips fell into a tight line. "So it's come to this. I told you we should have confronted Joakim years ago. Now he's out to get you, and all of us."
"He wasn't after her or me. He was attacking the water witches," Diovan said. "And confront him with what army? The Grimfires might be weaker, but they have the numbers. They should have at least fifty warriors. Not as much as Rayse in Dragon Keep, but definitely a sizable force. We have ten with us. Leon isn't even a teenager in dragon years yet."
"We had fifteen last year."
"Five of them left to try and set up their own clan."
"And they will join us to take back their home. There were another few who left ten years ago. Hyarick, Kenra, Branson, just to name a few. They are all fine warriors, unlike the weak Grimfires. You're scared, Diovan. Of what?"
The beatings, the torture, the abuse—they all came back to him when he thought about his father. His mother, Joakim's mate, had died giving birth to him. Joakim turned into a power-hungry maniac after her death. And Diovan took the brunt of his anger. He saw his father fight for sanity, to try and be kind, but eventually, Joakim got lost in the sorrow of losing his mate, and paranoia won out.
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