Because tonight, I would end him.
He’d given me a white dragon mask.
I traced a finger over what was meant to resemble scales, eyes flickering to where lights reflected from the chandelier. Illumination came from every direction now that the ball was in full swing, so despite my embellishment, I couldn’t be certain which reflections came from me.
Rothbart hadn’t spared a single expense. Surrounding me on all sides were magnificent gowns, elaborate masks, and indulgences of every sort. Couples danced and laughed without a care in the world. In the far corner, a group of musicians played a lively tune. Food, drink, and even sex awaited me if I wanted it, but I pushed it all aside, scanning the crowd for only one man.
I swear I was shedding feathers. Picking up the heavy skirt was little help, and only succeeded in getting down stuck between my fingers. If I had any say in the matter, I’d have worn something simpler and more discreet, but Rothbart had insisted.
I couldn’t wait to sink the dagger strapped to my thigh into his cold, wicked heart.
He’d been avoiding me all night, and we hadn’t spoken since the dungeon. Every time I got close, he’d make a swift escape, remaining close to his daughter’s side. Odile eyed me from where she and her father stood in their own private box, high above my head and far out of reach—for now.
I’d figure out a way up there even if it killed me.
I was far from the only one in a mask. Rothbart’s was decorated with owl feathers while Odile wore a dragon mask eerily similar to mine. It was identical in every way save for the color: black as midnight, matching both her gown and her father’s cloak. Now that I’d gotten a good look at her, I realized even her hairstyle copied mine, but it came as no surprise. She’d always been the jealous type and mimicking appeared to be all the rage. Most of the other masks were fashioned after animals. Foxes, wolves, bears, and even mythical creatures waltzed the dance floor, their elaborate designs managing to conceal identities. Even the servants donned simple black and gold masks, which unlike the guests, obscured their entire faces.
I would need a drink to get me through this. At any moment, the music could stop, and Rothbart would announce our engagement.
And I’d want to fucking vomit.
I staggered to a table sporting glasses of wine and downed the first to come within reach. My fingers curled around the now-empty glass, nearly shattering it. No more fucking around.
It was time to kill a sorcerer.
When I glanced up at where he’d been, both Rothbart and Odile were gone. Panic replaced the determination that had been there only moments before, intensifying further when I spotted the pair at the top of the stairs. The musicians began to quiet, and all eyes turned to Odile as she began descending the elaborate staircase. From the way her gaze lit up beneath her mask, I could tell she devoured the attention the way a starving dog would a bone.
Rothbart spread his arms, and the chatter died down to silence. “Lords and ladies, and all of my esteemed guests, welcome to this night of celebration. We gather here to honor not one, but two unions, one of which will unfold right before your very eyes.”
Two? I raised an eyebrow. Had Odile grown tired of fucking each of the guards in turn, and settled on a single man? I’d have sooner imagined the stars falling from the sky.
“I have news of my own, but my daughter’s will come first. Who here wishes to ask for her hand?”
Surprised murmuring broke out among the crowd as Odile sank into a deep curtsy, eyes scanning the sea of faces hungrily. With the attention focused on her and whatever imbecile foolish enough to marry her, it was the perfect opportunity for me to get to Rothbart.
I pushed my way through the bodies, paying no mind to the irritated grunts and drunken curses spat in my direction. I never took my eyes from my target. Using one hand to propel myself forward, I slipped the other beneath the folds of my gown, reaching for the blade Siegfried had so graciously left me.
This is for you.
When I placed my foot upon the first stair, Rothbart clapped his hands and laughed. I froze, but he wasn’t looking at me; turning, I followed his gaze.
Odile had managed to get herself a suitor.
He rose from one knee, dressed in an elaborate doublet and tight-fitting trousers. His shoulders were broad and strong, and he wore a mask adorned with raven feathers. My eyes traced the shape of his lips, and I could have sworn that I’d stared at those lips before.
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe.
Siegfried.
I was both certain it was him and certain I was hallucinating. He planted a kiss upon Odile’s undeserving palm before leading her to the dance floor. Odile whispered in his ear and seeing her lips so close to his face sent a stab of physical pain piercing through my chest.
The dragon heard every word. “I knew you’d choose me.”
But how?
My palms trembled as I watched them waltz to the center of the ballroom. Odile clung to him like a parasite, grinning as though she’d won the ultimate prize, and began dancing in a way that made me both envious and nauseous at the same time. They were good, and they looked good. Siegfried knew the steps well and maneuvered his partner through even the most complex twists and turns, and Odile danced with the grace of a swan…if swans were jealous, scheming whores.
“Beautiful, aren’t they?”
Fingers locked around the elbow meant to snatch my knife. Rothbart’s scent lingered over my shoulder, and before I could move, he snaked his free arm around my waist. He pulled me against him, and even through the layers of my dress, I could feel his arousal pressing into my backside.
“He looks better with her than he ever did with you, I’d wager.”
“You lied to me.” I yanked against his grip.
He squeezed me so hard tears sprang to my eyes. “I said nothing of the sort. You were the one to assume the sorry villager I burned at the stake was him.”
“But the dagger—”
“The one strapped to your leg? He made the mistake of dropping it in the forest. I simply picked it up.”
My vision began to blur, and I couldn’t be sure if it was the tears or the sudden fatigue that had settled in my bones. Rothbart’s grip was the only thing keeping me on my feet. “He… He wouldn’t—”
“He thinks Odile is you.”
And Siegfried did, judging from the look in his eyes. The way he’d looked at me a few short hours ago.
Rothbart’s beard tickled my earlobe. “And it looks as though he’s about to make a certain vow…”
“No,” I whispered.
“...blissfully unaware he’s breaking another in the process. He swore to love Odette, and dances with Odile.”
As the music died, Siegfried and Odile turned to us hand in hand. With Rothbart holding me immobile, I could do nothing but watch as Siegfried knelt once again.
“My Lord Rothbart, I love your daughter more than anything else in this world. You would do me an incredible honor by granting me her hand.”
That look in his eyes—he knew something was wrong, that something was off. I opened my mouth to scream Odile’s name, but Rothbart spoke faster, digging his fingernails into my skin in the process.
“You honor me, Prince Siegfried. I grant you my daughter’s hand on one condition: that you vow to love her, and her alone, for the rest of her days.”
Don’t do it, I tried to scream, but a groan escaped my lips instead when Rothbart’s boot came slamming down on my foot.
“I swear it upon my life.”
Odile cackled, and all I could see was red.
I was vaguely aware of Rothbart’s fingers tangling in my hair to drag me down the staircase. I didn’t protest when he ripped the mask from my face, nor when he tossed me at Siegfried’s feet.
I only came to when he whispered my name.
He cupped my face in his hands. “Odette, I didn’t know. It was all a sick fucking joke. Please, you must believe me—”
But soon, even his pleas faded away.
I curled into a ball and drowned the rest of the world out. Siegfried, Rothbart, Odile…none of it mattered. They’d broken me. They’d won. I yearned for the darkness to take me. I didn’t want to live, and yet my body refused to die. Part of me clung to this world—the part that would live forever now that Siegfried had made it so.
It wasn’t difficult to channel my despair into rage.
If they wanted a fight, I’d show them a fucking dragon.
I called to her like I’d never called before. I welcomed her power, her strength, and most importantly, her bloodlust. If I was going to die, I’d take everyone in this godforsaken castle with me.
Screaming filled my ears as the beast took hold of both body and mind. I’d taken on the dragon’s complete form without shattering the roof, but the minute I stood to my full height, the stone crumpled as easily as paper. Enormous slabs of rock shattered on the dance floor, crushing dozens of guests, but plenty still remained for me to devour. Lowering my maw to the ground, I snapped my jaws, rewarded with blood. Swiping my claws and swishing my tail yielded even more victims, but it still wasn’t enough.
As much fun as I was having, I couldn’t move properly. My wings yearned to spread, and more than once, my scales scraped against a stubborn piece of architecture, drawing blood even as I spilled it.
“Odette!”
I knew that voice. Covered in dust and splattered with crimson, Siegfried had barely survived the carnage, but survive he had.
“It’s me you want, yes?”
This was fucking poetic. Despite everything; despite the betrayal, and despite that he’d damned me to remain a dragon for all eternity, I still wanted him. I still wanted only him.
Siegfried sprinted down a hall I hadn’t yet demolished, presumably hoping I’d chase after him.
I’d do no such thing.
Lifting my gaze to the sky, I used both my bloodstained talons and aching wings to pull myself from the wreckage. Once free, I left behind the crumbling fortress and set off towards the only place capable of bringing my heart any solace.
The lake.
Night air caressed my scales as gently as Siegfried once held me. The moment I reached the shore, I collapsed, barely clinging to consciousness. I didn’t feel myself shift back into a human—but then again, I couldn’t feel anything over the agony in my chest. My insides were on fire though my heart was barely beating. I clenched my now-human fist, wishing I’d kept my talons to slice my own throat and be done with it.
“Odette!”
Him again. Would his efforts never cease?
Siegfried wrapped his cloak around my naked form and took me in his arms. How he’d gotten here I had no idea, but a giant dragon wasn’t exactly difficult to track.
“Leave me be.”
“This is my fault,” he whispered against me. “All my fault.”
It was, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him so. “You don’t need to see this.”
“And you don’t have to die.” He pulled away to stare into my eyes—a mistake on both our parts.
“I do,” I whispered. “It’s the curse.”
That you were meant to break, not seal forever.
Siegfried gripped me tighter, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me you were the dragon?”
“Would you have believed me?”
“Stranger things have happened...such as a prince learning to love one.”
I laughed, but it only succeeded in shooting pain up my side. As I spasmed, Siegfried held me tighter and steady.
“No laughing, then,” he whispered.
“There’s something else I’d like instead.”
I fixated on that soft mouth I’d yearned to kiss since my first glimpse of it. I leaned in close—so close I felt his breaths on my cheek—and lingered there, my lips hovering in a silent question.
He answered by pressing his to mine.
Siegfried tasted of wine, blood, and sweat. We kissed long and deep, and it was impossible to discern whose tongue had slipped into whose mouth first. All I knew was that I wasn’t ready when the kiss ended but pulled away when he slipped something within my grasp.
The dagger.
With my hands gripping the handle and his hands over mine, he pointed the blade toward his chest.
“Kill me.”
I hesitated. Two separate urges warred within me; one that wished to see the knife plunge into his heart, and the other that wanted to toss the blade into the depths of the lake.
And the scariest part was that I had no idea which was stronger.
Ah, Odette. Indecisive as ever.
It couldn’t be—but there he was. Perched high in a tree was a black owl.
Turning back to Siegfried, I peeled his fingers from the blade. “I’ve made my choice.”
Have you, now? Rothbart cooed inside my head. How will you do it—slit his throat? Stab his chest? Or better yet, the femoral artery. I’ve always loved watching someone bleed out.
Neither, I thought only to myself.
He’d come here to witness a tragedy—not live one of his own. There would never be a more perfect opportunity.
I hurled the knife at Rothbart’s breast.
An even worse pain constricted my chest when the dagger found its mark, twisting and yanking on my insides as if ripping them apart. Not an owl, but a human man tumbled from the tree, eyes wide with shock at what I’d done. I fought my way through my own agony just to watch the light leave his eyes.
“I’ve always loved watching someone bleed out.”
And gods, was this satisfying.
Siegfried supported my back against his shoulder. “You’re bleeding.”
He was right. A deep crimson bled through the blue of Siegfried’s cloak, mirroring what I’d done to Rothbart.
But I no longer felt any pain.
The sunrise reflected brilliant colors over the lake, featuring hues I swore I’d never seen before. Swans emerged from their nests with rows of cygnets trailing after them, and songbirds filled the air with music grander than a symphony. Nature was celebrating, as if she knew she’d never be plagued by the dragon again, and my heart swelled right along with her.
Siegfried wrapped his arms around me. Weaving his fingers through mine, he didn’t move even when I began to grow stiff and cold, and nor when I didn’t answer the whispers I could no longer hear. I tried to urge him to go, but he wouldn’t listen either.
Men are foolish creatures.
But perhaps this one was different.
A Land of Never After
Coming Spring 2021!
No one warned me the sea would smell like shit.
In all my years spent dreaming of this moment, I wasn’t entirely certain what I’d been imagining—but it wasn’t this. The docks before me were far too crowded, the noise assaulting my ears much too raucous, and the smell. Not shit, I realized, but death and decay, mostly from the baskets of fish left to rot in the sun.
Inwardly, I chastised myself for cursing. If such language came spilling from my lips, Mrs. Hughes would have no qualms about taking the switch to me.
But, I reminded myself, Mrs. Hughes isn’t here.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, and waited.
Nothing.
“Shit.” Louder this time, but still no reaction from the grimy folk who shouldered past me. “Shit, shit, shit!”
A few raised eyebrows, but no scolding, and that was enough for the giggling to start. I’d just cursed, and for the first time in sixteen years, there wasn’t a soul who would stop me. Who could stop me. Here, I could say whatever I wanted.
Here, I was free.
With that glorious thought front and center, I took off sprinting. Crowds parted for me as I weaved past the merchants’ stands and closer to where the ships were being loaded. My heart leaped at the sight of the magnificent sails flapping lazily in the breeze, and I wondered which would become my new home. The air grew sweeter with every step, and weight I hadn’t realized I was carrying melted from my shoulders despite the pack I carried. Though winding and slippery, my feet found purchase on the wooden planks, never faltering despite my constant dodging. I suppose these orphanage shoes were good for something besides being ugly as sin.
“Oy, watch it, you little wench!”
He appeared out of nowhere, and I ducked just in time—in a way. My foot caught on the ropes hanging from the crates the burly man shouldered, and my attempts to shake it off failed. I fell on my rear in a heap of soaking-wet fabric. As he glared down at me, heat crept to my cheeks.
That’s one way to make an impression.
But then I remembered what he’d called me, and embarrassment was quickly replaced with fury. “You’ll speak to me with respect, or not at all.” Definitely not the smartest thing to say to a man whose arm weighed more than I did, but today was a fresh start.
I refused to let that start mean more of the same.
To my surprise, he set down the crates before offering me a hand. “Apologies, young miss—ya jus’ took me by surprise.”
Batting away the hand, I stood on my own, fixing my ruined dress and ducking away from his concerned gaze. My moment of defiance broken, the embarrassment had returned with a vengeance. “It’s me who shouldn’t have been running. I haven’t been to, ah…these parts before.”
Still not making a case for yourself.
Shoving my thoughts aside, I looked to the man’s face to see his confusion resolve itself.
“I get it now! Didn’ recognize the uniform at first.”
I bit my lip; buying new clothes to replace my orphan getup should have been my first stop.
“Ya must be terribly lost. It’s a long way back to the orphan—”
“I’m not going back there,” I snapped too quickly. Clearing my throat, I continued, “What I mean is they won’t have me. I’ve aged out.”
Dragon Lake Page 4
