by Amira Rain
After a little while, Charlie joined me in my pacing, and together, with him trotting behind me and constantly bumping into me, probably just trying to show his solidarity with me no matter what I was going through, we paced around the spacious kitchen for several minutes.
I came to a stop, though, when my phone dinged with a text alert. After going over to the island, I saw that the text was a group text to every single phone in Greenwood, sent from a number that had been designated the “Greenwood emergency alert system” number. I read the contents of the text with my heartbeat accelerating.
Attention, all Greenwood residents: A large group of Bloodborn dragons has been spotted flying above the Upper Peninsula. It is thought that they are on their way to attack. Please take cover immediately. Please shelter in a home or business and do not leave until receiving additional notification.
I had done it, I knew. The Bloodborns had been waiting to attack until they felt strong enough maybe, or felt they had some sort of an advantage, and I had given them that advantage. I’d sent them a message spelling it right out how they could easily kill Matt. And since he was said to be the strongest shifter in Greenwood, hands down, the Bloodborns probably thought that if they could kill him, they would have a much easier time of then killing all his dragons as well.
Which they were probably correct in thinking. Then, they’d be able to just waltz right in to Greenwood and claim it for their own. Maybe this would lead to them claiming other villages and towns nearby. Maybe they’d eventually be able to take the whole state, as was their ultimate plan.
“Oh, my God, Charlie, what have I done?”
I covered my mouth with a hand, horrified. Beside me, Charlie just whined.
After thinking for just a few moments, I knew what I needed to do. I needed to call Matt and warn him that the Bloodborns almost certainly knew about his plan and would be heading west to attack him. With the knowledge that they knew where he was going to be positioned, he’d then just be able to simply head east or something instead, drawing the Bloodborns in that direction when he wanted to in order to keep the battle from occurring directly above the village.
However, when I tried calling him, it went straight to his voice mail, indicating that his phone was off, or more than likely, had “vaporized” along with his clothes upon him shifting into dragon form, and was therefore not picking up calls.
A quick look out the kitchen window told me that this was probably the case. High above the tall pines in the front yard, hundreds of dragons were streaking across the cloudy sky, with some of them seeming to be moving in an arc, like maybe they were beginning to slowly circle the village, preparing for battle. I didn’t see Matt among them, larger than any other dragon, not that the dragons were even close enough for me to see much. Most of them simply looked like dark dots in the sky because they were already so high up.
After filling a glass of water and quickly downing the contents, both because I’d developed horrible cotton-mouth and because I was still trying to sober up, I set the glass on the counter and told Charlie I had to leave the house.
“I have to go out on a run about a mile west to find Matt. Then I’m going to have to get his attention somehow to tell him what’s going on. Then everything will be just fine, Charlie. I just have to reach Matt before the Bloodborns do.”
With my thoughts racing, I jammed tennis shoes on my feet, yanked a knit hat over my head, and whipped on my coat, wondering how on earth I was going to get Matt’s attention from the ground, especially since I knew that the area he’d be hovering above, waiting until the battle really got started to head back to Greenwood and lead the Bloodborns away, would be dense forestland, filled with evergreens and pines.
However, within a few moments, I had an idea and pulled open one of the kitchen drawers. This was one of the “junk drawers,” filled with mostly odds-and-ends from Matt’s bachelor days, and this particular drawer was mostly filled with Fourth-of-July fireworks for some reason. I had no idea why Matt had thought to put them in a kitchen drawer, but now I was extremely glad he did.
I would use them for “flares,” which, hopefully, he would see from the sky, despite the densely-wooded terrain on the ground. I will try to find a clearing, I thought. The overcast day would help me as well, making the fireworks stand out more as if it were early evening.
Within a minute, I had my coat pockets stuffed with all the fireworks I could fit, as well as several books of matches and a lighter. Now, feeling as prepared as I’d ever be, I left the house after grabbing my keys and giving Charlie a hasty pat on the head while dashing toward the front door.
Once outside the house, it occurred to me that maybe I could use the fireworks to get the attention of one of Matt’s dragons, who could then speed west to alert him of the danger, but even if I could get one of his dragons to descend to the yard, I just wasn’t sure they’d understand what I was saying or what I needed them to do.
More than likely, they’d probably think that I was just possibly having an anxiety attack or something from the stress of being in a village that was soon to be attacked. This was if I could even get one of them to land in the yard, too. They might simply think that I was just setting of fireworks for whatever bizarre reason, having not received the emergency text yet.
I thought I had a much better chance of Matt descending when and if he saw fireworks because whereas they could be explained away within the village as just someone picking a very strange time to have some fun, they couldn’t really be explained away over to the west, well outside of the residential area.
After hopping in my car, I drove the first little ways directly west, maybe a half-mile or so, until the dirt drive I’d driven down just abruptly ended. Having taken a winter hike with Matt down this narrow access road several days earlier, I knew it didn’t continue as far west as I would have liked, but that was fine. I just parked the car, shut it off, and got out, having already planned to do a little hiking.
Picking my way down a very narrow, overgrown trail that must have been cleared a hundred years earlier, my progress was very slow going at first. For one thing, I had to continually watch my step, because the trail was littered with stones and fallen branches, which weren’t always easy to see, covered in a layer of pine needles and other debris. For another thing, the trees were so dense that they blocked what little pale light there was in the sky, making it very hard to see.
However, when I’d been hiking up the trail for maybe ten or fifteen minutes, the trees on either side suddenly became far less dense, and the trail became so clear that I was actually able to break into a run. Soon, after I’d been running for just a few minutes, I reached a wide clearing, thanking my lucky stars. I couldn’t think of any better place to light off my “flares” than in an open meadow, knowing that Matt had to be somewhere close by.
I’d lit two that had turned out to be “screamers,” piercing the quiet of the meadow, when a dark shape began descending over it.
“Well, that was easy.”
I actually had to stifle a laugh, holding my gaze upward to watch Matt approach. However, within moments, I saw that the dragon that I was watching wasn’t Matt. His hide was a dark coal gray. This dragon’s was a dark, metallic sort of midnight blue. I could see it pretty clearly now as he descended rapidly.
Beginning to panic, I realized that I couldn’t ever remember seeing any of Matt’s dragons with a metallic blue hide. The dragon that was descending into the meadow, probably having been drawn by my “screamers,” was a Bloodborn.
*
I felt that I was going to die more than I had the conscious thought. I might have thought that this feeling would have made me run from the meadow, screaming, because after all, I was just a human. I knew I had no real chance in a physical fight against a several-ton dragon.
However, I was about to find out that I had steelier nerves than I’d ever dreamed. Either that, or my survival instincts were just working on autopilot, helping me do what I need
ed to in order to at least have a chance, however slim, at making it out alive. I knew better than to think I could just make a run for the trees and expect to make it to them in time without first being attacked by the descending dragon.
Not wasting a single second, I pulled two long stick fireworks from one of my pockets, just praying that they were the “sparks-and-boom” kind, and not the “screamer” kind. There was simply no time to check. Then, forcing myself to pull my gaze from the approaching Bloodborn dragon, I quickly lit the wicks with the lighter I’d brought.
Once I was sure that they’d “caught” and were indeed burning, I pulled my gaze upward, seeing that the metallic blue dragon was within thirty or forty feet from me now. Just in the very corner of my left eye, I could see another dragon approaching from the west. But I didn’t even dare take my focus off the approaching Bloodborn to see if I could determine if this new dragon might be a friend or a foe.
When the Bloodborn dragon landed no more than ten feet in front of me, which he did within three seconds of me lighting the fireworks, I looked at him for just a fraction of a second. He was large, massive actually, maybe even the same size as Matt, which was saying a lot. A thin stream of smoke curled from his open mouth, as if maybe he’d already been involved in some sort of skirmish and had breathed fire already. This was all I really had time to notice about him.
Knowing I might very well be “throwing for my life,” I hurled the fireworks toward his open mouth, praying that the wicks would stay lit. I also had another thought for just a nanosecond, and this one was pretty absurd, considering that I was facing possible death. For some reason, my brain saw fit to make me very briefly wish that I’d done softball growing up instead of gymnastics. As if the present was actually a good time to pause for regret.
It turned out that I had a pretty good arm and aim despite never having played softball. Both of the firework sticks sailed inside the Bloodborn dragon’s mouth, right before he snapped it shut, seeming to have realized a fraction of a second too late what was happening.
Not a moment later, he jerked his body to the right, and then to the left, making some sort of a strangled bellow of pain. Pretty sure that the fireworks just went off, I took my chance and began running back east, to the trees. I had no doubt that a few very small explosions going off in the throat or mouth of a creature used to breathing fire wouldn’t have much of an effect for long.
When I heard more bellowing in pain, this time even louder, I stopped running and turned, confident that I was just far enough away now to take a quick peek at what was going on. And what was going on was that Matt had landed in the meadow and was now breathing fire on the writhing Bloodborn. Matt had been the descending dragon that I just hadn’t been able to look at closely.
Seeming to spot me, he paused in his fire-breathing to flip his long, coal-gray tail east, and I knew what he was trying to signal me to do. He was trying to tell me to continue running out of the meadow and go take cover in the trees, which I wasted no time in doing, collapsing once I was a short distance within them. Experiencing some delayed sense of panic and an adrenaline rush, my legs were simply too rubbery to carry me any further.
Pulling myself up to sit on a fallen tree trunk after a minute, I began to hear sounds of many dragons in battle, mostly roaring and the loud whoosh of dragons breathing fire. With the evergreens and pines and all the densely-packed trunks obscuring my vision, I couldn’t see anything that was happening above the meadow or on the ground, but through tiny gaps in the greenery above me, I was able to see dark shapes moving through the air, east to west, as if most of them were Matt’s dragons.
Relieved that his men had turned out to be faster than most of the Bloodborns, and knowing that his men would be there to help him if the Bloodborns did swarm him, I finally got up and began jogging back up the trail to Greenwood.
I’d been sitting at home, anxiously waiting, for at least three hours, when I finally received a text from the Greenwood emergency alert system, saying that the battle had been “resolved.” Additionally, although some fighters sustained injuries, no Greenwood dragons were killed, and all should make a complete recovery. All residents are now welcome to leave their homes, as the emergency alert has been lifted.
Overcome with gratitude that none of Matt’s dragons had been killed, and that the ones who’d been injured were expected to completely recover, I began crying, burying my face in my hands.
I was still crying when Matt returned home, looking utterly exhausted in his human form. With tears streaming down my face, I greeted him in the foyer and told him in a rush that I was probably responsible for the metallic blue Bloodborn flying to the meadow, briefly explaining what I’d accidentally done while drunk.
I went on to tell Matt that I knew full well that I could have gotten myself killed doing what I’d done to try to save him from some sort of a mass attack. Then, I paused, studying his face, and said that I was so terribly sorry.
“Please say that you forgive me, Matt. Please. I’m begging you. Please just forgive me for all of it…for the not believing you earlier, the drinking, and the accidental message sent to the Bloodborns…just, all of it. I know that I could have gotten you killed, and that I in no way deserve your forgiveness, but I just pray that you give it to me, anyway, because I just don’t think I can live without your love.”
It was the truth.
Cradling my face in his large, strong hands, Matt looked into my eyes for a moment before responding. “What you did was an accident, and I forgive you. Just, in return, please say that you forgive me for killing Seth. Please say that you’ll at least try…because I don’t think I can live without your love.”
Elated, I nodded, sending fresh tears streaming down my face. “I forgive you. I truly do. I know you had no choice but to kill Seth to protect everyone else in Greenwood. I was just so angry at first that I just couldn’t process all the facts right then, even though I think I always knew in my heart that you didn’t kill Seth just for your own personal gain. I just wanted to blame you anyway, because I just wanted someone to blame for me losing my chance at having a Mr. Decker-type dad. The person I really should have blamed, though, was Seth. He’s the one who ruined my chance with his bad actions.”
I fell silent for a moment or two and then began apologizing to Matt again, but he hushed me with a brief, tender kiss to my lips.
“No more apologies. We’ve both forgiven each other, and neither of us was hurt today, and it’s all over now. It’s time for us again. It’s time for our first Christmas Eve together. It’s going to be a snowy one, too. Look outside.”
I hadn’t even given Matt a chance to close the front door before rushing him, and I now looked around his shoulder and saw that it was snowing. It had been so unseasonably warm the previous week that all the snow on the ground had melted, but now, if the heavy gray clouds rolling across the sky were any indication, Matt’s and my first Christmas together was going to be white.
It was three weeks after our first blissful Christmas together that we got an unexpected late gift in the form of a positive pregnancy test. True to my usual weepy form, I cried right there in the midwife’s office the moment she’d left the room to give Matt and me a little privacy after telling us our happy news. Although I wasn’t surprised in the least by my own waterworks, I was, however, a bit shocked to see Matt’s eyes become a bit shiny and pink as he took my hands in his and spoke in a low voice thick with emotion.
“This is it, Kylie. This is the beginning of our happily-ever-after.”
Unable to speak, only nod, I believed him.
Over the next year, it turned out that I had been right to do so. Amy and I hosted the gym’s grand opening a little later than we’d intended to—in February, once I’d gotten past the worst of my morning sickness. Not even a week later, our enrollment over all classes, including gymnastics, Pilates, and yoga, was already higher than it had been at any point during the time we’d owned the gym in Moxon.
&
nbsp; In addition to a young woman from a village about ten miles away that Amy and I had had to hire to teach yoga and Pilates until we had our babies, we had to hire one experienced gymnastics coach from the same village, and hire and train a young woman from Greenwood who wanted to become a preschool gymnastics coach. Elated, Amy and I both agreed that this go-round of our dream was probably going to be a success.
Late that summer, Amy gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby boy that she and Mack named Ashton Michael. Early that fall, I gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl that Matt and I named Brianna Danielle. We’d picked Brianna just because we liked it, and Danielle was to honor Uncle Dan.
In the near-year since we’d met, he’d become something of a Mr. Decker to me, often telling me that I was so smart and savvy to be co-owner of such a successful business, and that he was very proud of me. He also did things like bringing over homemade baked goods from June’s recipes at least once a week, and he frequently told me that I could count on him for anything, which I really felt that I could.
He wept openly when Matt and I introduced him to newborn Brianna and told him her middle name. He cried even harder, having to take off his glasses to dry his eyes, when we asked him if it would be all right if Brianna would be the only one in the village to not call him Uncle Dan, but Grandpa Dan instead.
Seemingly having completely opened his heart to love again in the months following the Bloodborn attack, Matt also became something of a Mr. Decker, although not only to our precious newborn daughter. He’d basically become a Mr. Decker to the dogs, spoiling them just as much as I did. He gave them little scraps after dinner, watched them while they played in the yard, and sometimes even played with them, seeming to especially enjoy playing fetch with Charlie, who hadn’t lost an ounce of his puppyish energy.
