“You would buy that?” he pointed to the dress.
“Yes,” she said, and he shook his head.
“No. You work in the palace now. I want a good gown for you.”
“What?” she cocked her head, grinning. “You want to take me to a tailor and get some custom-made gown?”
“Yes,” he repeated bluntly. “Where?”
Yvette lit up. She wanted to hug him.
“I know a place,” she said “But how will you pay for it?”
“Magic,” he said. “You are not a carapace.”
“That is true,” she said.
“Then it's done,” he said. “Show me.”
“This way, I think.” She had seen malls like this, and if she was right, there was a high-end dress shop on the top floor that had custom-made pieces. All the malls looked alike and were populated by the same companies.
She pulled him through the mall, finding the escalator. He stopped for a second, confused by the technology. It seemed so primitive and yet confusing.
“It's alright,” she said, tugging at his hand. “Just step.”
“I can just…” he moved to snap his fingers and transport them, and she shrieked with laughter.
“Peter, no!” she cried, grabbing his hand and pushing him onto the escalator “We're on Earth. You can't just do that. Hey, look. It's you.”
They were passing a shop with branded t-shirts. One – a mannequin on the window – was a screen print of a dragon that looked suspiciously like Peter.
Dragons will eat us all soon; don't waste time.
“What an distasteful t-shirt,” she said in shock.
“What does it–”
“You don't want to know,” she said. “Trust me. It's just rude. I mean, people died.”
“People died because I killed them.” He looked her into the eye.
“I know,” she said. “I sat at home and watched you on TV. And I was frightened, of course. And People did die, but I saw more than that.”
He watched her silently, waiting for her words. He knew what she could say. She could tell him that he was a monster; that he had lost control, and he had to gain it. He had done terrible things; he knew that. Alexander had almost gotten killed because Peter was too caught up in his blood lust to notice that his brother was sickening and that the carapaces were attacking him. He would never forgive himself if Alexander did not recover, and even now, Alexander was not at top strength. Peter had killed innocents, something he had vowed to never do.
“I knew you were dangerous; I knew you had done wrong, but I also thought you were scared. I mean, I've seen how dragons come back from the Other. They are terrified and messed up and confused. Thomas still can't get his head around the world. His blood lust continues weekly. And no one was helping you; no one was guiding you; no one was even listening to you.” Her eyes filled with emotion. “I mean, you were ripped out of Heaven, Peter, and expected to live in this world that was half Hell. How can people think that it's easy?”
He only caught about 75% of the message, but he could see the emotion in her eyes – the compassion. Compassion was a trait that kings were supposed to have. They weren't looked upon with compassion or kindness; it was unheard of. People flattered them. People gave them gifts and lied to them about happiness, but they generally didn't show them kindness without a motivation.
Yvette looked upon him as if she had seen into his very soul.
He didn't have the proper words to respond. So instead, he squeezed her hand.
“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you.”
She fell into his arms, just for a quick hug. And to her surprise, he wrapped his arms around her. In the sea of moving people, they were a rock, unmovable for that moment.
When they finally broke apart, she wiped her eyes and smiled.
“Dress?” she asked. “Gown?”
“Yes,” he laughed, and she led the rest of the way.
He was surprised at how much the shop looked like the tailor shops that he knew on Umora. The tailors may be oddly dressed, but they walked around with the same measuring tapes and pins in their mouths.
“Can I help you?” A girl approached them, who didn't look much older than Yvette.
“I–” Yvette said, but Peter put a hand on her arm.
“We need a gown.” When he was speaking to someone he didn't know, his confidence in English faltered. She smiled, trying to give him confidence. “For her.”
“Perfect,” the girl had no trouble understanding him. “Any budget? Any style? Any occasion?”
“Ah.” Yvette turned to Peter, to see if he caught that.
“Grand,” he managed. “For a ball. Money is not a problem.”
“Money is magic,” Yvette smiled at him.
“Come with me, and we'll look at some of our building pieces. And bring your boyfriend,” the girl turned to lead them to a private room.
“Oh, he's not my...” Yvette said, but stopped herself. She couldn't exactly say that he was her dragon boss who had half enslaved her. Besides, what harm would it do to pretend for just one day?
She noted somewhere in the back of her mind that she hadn't texted Thomas at all since she got here.
“Oh?” said the girl, and Yvette shook her head.
“Nothing. Where do we go?”
The next hour was like a dream. She had never been the girl who shopped, especially after she got sick. She didn't have time or money before, and she didn't have energy after. But now, she felt like a princess. They brought out tutus and full skirts, corsets, bodices, a lines and princess cuts. All the pieces would be matched together once Yvette found her perfect gown, and she would have a custom-made gown within two weeks. She delighted in not paying any attention to the price tag, but rather, the mirror, and she noticed Peter's watchful eyes. He smiled as she spun around, or indicated that she should show off the diamonds or the bodice. She felt like a princess, strutting gowns down a runway.
“Ah,” Peter said when she came out with the sixth gown. It was a huge, fluffy skirt with a sweetheart neckline. She had it in pink, but the salesgirl had a different idea.
“Perhaps green to match your eyes?” she suggested, getting up on the end of the runway to indicate Yvette should come closer.
Yvette walked over, and she held up the green swatch of fabric.
“Um, do you think…” Yvette indicated the neckline. “It's just a bit low cut. And this ball is a classy place.”
“I have just the thing,” she said, and reached down to a pile of fabric. “Spin around if you don't mind.”
“Sure,” Yvette spun around, and the girl moved her hair. She realized a bit too late what was happening, and ducked at a bad time. She didn't do well with halter tops because they pushed on her neck, but she also ducked right into the girl's hand, jarring her neck at the base of her skull. “Oh, ow!”
“I'm sorry?” the sales girl was confused how a minor movement suddenly caused Yvette to wince and turn pale. “Are you alright?”
“I just need to sit down a moment.”
Peter was beside her on the platform in a moment, wrapping his arms around her.
“It's alright,” Yvette tried to assure him. “Just need to sit down.”
“She isn't well,” Peter said, as explanation. “Regularly, not just today. Some space, please.”
“I'm so sorry.” The girl backed away, and Peter supported her off the platform, and onto the only chair. He bent his knees to help her, and somehow, she ended up on his lap.
“Oops.” Yvette smiled as she laid her head against his chest. She knew that this was unacceptable behavior, but she couldn't stop herself. She needed strength and healing, and he provided those things at the moment. She closed her eyes, taking comfort in his body heat and his strength. “Mmm. Thank you.”
“I should have not brought you here,” he said.
“Peter, I'm alright, really.” She rose to look at him, and she got a glimpse of the shop behind him.
T
hat was when she screamed. In the shop behind him, leading into the public area, was a giant dragon. It was the grandest dragon she had ever seen – green and gold, his long neck extended and his eyes flashing. This was not an idle dragon; this was one that intended to kill.
“Peter,” she managed, and he spun around. His eyes widened.
“Father,” he said, standing up and nearly dropping her. Yvette shrieked in surprise and hid behind him. The grand dragon roared, and tipped his head to the ceiling. Fire came out of his mouth, hitting the wooden ceiling. He then turned his blast towards the walls, setting fire to them and the clothes. Everyone screamed and ducked. Peter pushed Yvette back, his eyes flashing, and she knew he was going to transform. It terrified her because she knew she wasn't safe. If he lost his human consciousness, she would die in the fire. She needed him; he was her only chance at living through this obvious attack.
CHAPTER 9
“Peter,” Yvette clung to his back. He had one arm firmly around her, but his body was already shifting.
“Go into the room.” He pointed to the changing room where she had just been. “Go. Hide.”
“But…” She didn't want to let go of him. They had only seconds to make a decision, and if they made a mistake, it would be end game.
“Go. I will protect you,” he promised her.
She ran, seeing no other choice. The changing room door wasn't particularly secure, and there was a half inch gap.
Yvette slammed the door, looking through the gap even as she slid the lock closed.
She had seen Peter in dragon form on television. Seeing it in person, though, was much different.
She gripped the lock, her hand trembling, as the magic swirled around him. He was a large dragon, almost as tall as his father. Somehow, although she didn't know anything of the dragon aging process, she knew that he was younger. His scales seemed shinier, his strength more abundant.
When Peter lunged at his father, she screamed. The two dragons were damaging everything around them; breaking the wall; rolling in the fire. They snapped at each other, tearing chunks of flesh and breathing fire.
She felt paralyzed with fear, watching although she wanted to turn away. After a few minutes of desperate fighting, something changed. The magic swirled again, and Peter became human again. And with him, his father.
Yvette could see that he looked like the brothers. He had the same eyes, although they were lined with wrinkles, the same crinkly nose and half smile.
“Is this what you want, Peter?” he said, in a strangled voice. “To kill your father here and now?”
“You are already dead!” Peter spat at him.
“SO ARE YOU!”
Peter fell back at the roar, in surprise. “Yes, I know,” he said. “But you will return to the Other before me.” He lunged at him again, this time aiming for his throat.
The magic swirled again, and before Peter could grasp his throat, he vanished.
“NO!” Peter screamed. Frantically, he moved left and right, but his father was gone. “No!”
Yvette coughed, and then coughed again The smoke was getting thick, black and billowing. The ceiling was starting to fall in, chunks of plaster already hitting the floor. She doubled over, and each breath got less and less air.
She unlocked the door, but it was all that she could do before falling to her knees.
Peter was beside her in a moment, wrapping his arms around her.
“Here,” he said. “Here, I have you.”
“We have to get out,” Yvette managed. “I can't breathe.”
Peter looked around, frantically trying to plan a way out. If he transformed, he wasn't sure that he would recognize the need to rescue her. She was so fragile, and his dragon brain was still so confused.
“Just keep breathing,” he said, and plunged forward.
The entire building was up in flames when he got into the hallway. People were screaming and running, and Peter knew that some of them wouldn't survive.
Yvette choked again, trembling in his arms. This seemed like a dream – a dream that she would never get out of. Everything was hazy and terrible, and the whole world was going black.
She heard the screaming; she heard the plaster falling. “Peter,” she said softly. “Please don't let them die.” And then the world went black.
When Yvette awoke, she was sitting on the sidewalk outside the mall. There were fire trucks, police cars, and ambulances.
“I leave you for an hour and you burn the mall down?” Ariel was behind her in an instant. Yvette couldn't answer, her throat still thick with smoke. “I need a paramedic over here, help!”
“Jesus,” Nicholas was on the scene in a frantic run. “Where's Peter?”
“Inside. Get away from me and do some good,” Ariel said to her brother in law, referring to her carapace powers. The paramedics rushed over, already frantic from the other bodies that were strewn on the streets. People were dying, that much was clear.
“Ariel,” Yvette said, tears in her eyes. They put an oxygen mask over her and the next thing she knew, she woke up in the hospital.
Hospitals were a familiar place to Yvette, especially in the last few years. She felt comfort beneath the white sheets, and strangely relaxed by the beeping of the machines.
She had an oxygen mask on her face, and IVs in her arm. Armand was standing over her bed, his white lab coat looking a little bit rumpled and his eyes kind but tired. She coughed when she meant to get a word out, and he put his hand over hers.
“Just rest. Don't try to speak. You've had quite an ordeal.”
She looked around, looking for her phone, a clock, anything to indicate how long she had been out for.
Armand sensed it; many of his patients wanted the same thing.
“It's been two days since the fire,” he said. “You've been out, which I suspect was a result of your weakened state. But you're alright now.”
“Peter,” she managed, muffled through the oxygen mask.
“He's alright,” Armand said. “He helped quite a bit. A lot more people would have died if it wasn't for him and his brother. But before you see Peter–”
She sat up a bit more as Thomas came rushing into the room.
“Yvette,” Thomas wrapped his arms around her as carefully as he could to not dislodge the tubing. She stiffened at his touch, unexpectedly. She had spent so long missing him, and now that the moment had arrived, she felt odd hugging him. “Oh God, what have they done to you?”
“They didn't do anything to me,” she pulled down the mask, taking a deep breath and then coughing.
“Peter helped–”
“ He also killed you,” Thomas growled. “And I'll kill him when I see him.”
“Thomas,” Armand snapped. “He is your king.”
“He is no king of mine.”
“Thomas, if you continue in this speech, I will not allow you in this room. Is that clear?” Armand set his jaw. “I do not agree with the destruction, nor do I agree with the death. But it was not the princes. The former king has returned.”
“It is because of the princes that she is in the hospital to begin with,” Thomas said. “Don't forget that.”
“Thomas, I'm alright,” Yvette leaned her head against his chest again, trying to stop her beating heart. But as soon as she had done that, Peter walked into the room.
Armand bowed, and Thomas growled. Yvette sat up, her eyes meeting his.
“Yvette,” Peter said. “I am glad to see you well.”
“She wouldn't be unwell without–”
“Leave,” Armand said to him.
“This world was much better when someone who knew what to do was in charge,” Thomas snarled, squeezing Yvette's hand. “Let me stay with her.”
“Thomas, please,” Yvette managed. “I'll talk to you soon.”
He glared at Peter, but reluctantly put a kiss on her head and left the room.
“Forgive me,” Armand said to Peter. “He knows not what he says.”
&n
bsp; “I think he knows exactly what he says,” Peter replied. “I will speak to Yvette alone if she is well enough.”
“Of course,” Armand said. “Although just a few minutes would be best.”
“A few moments will be sufficient.” Peter sat at the end of her bed. Once alone, he met her eyes. “I'm so sorry,” he said to her.
Betrayed by a Dragon: A Paranormal Shifter Romance (Exiled Dragons Book 1) Page 35
