by Megg Jensen
Donovan weaved through the masses of skeletons as they sharpened their swords and practiced for battle. None of them paid any attention to the fire. They wouldn't unless he commanded them to do so.
He heard Tressa shouting in the distance, taunting him. Urging him to come to her. He took his time. If he'd thought for a moment she was trapped inside the burning cottage, he would have mobilized all of his skeletons to save her. They hadn't come this far together for her body to be damaged now. He wanted it.
Donovan walked around the cottage, finding Tressa on the other side. She stood with her feet apart and her shoulders square, ready for a confrontation. Very well. It was time they talked.
"Tressa," Donovan said as he came up behind her.
Tressa whirled around, flames reflecting in her angry eyes. Her dark hair whipped around her face in the wind. Donovan sighed. He stopped, directing a few of his skeletons to grab buckets and get water from the stream. They would need to contain the fire before it leapt to the nearby trees. He didn't mind losing the cottage; he didn't need it anymore anyway. However, setting the forest on fire would interfere with his plans.
Tressa hands clenched into fists. She balanced on the balls of her feet. "I may not have my dragon, but I will kill you anyway."
Donovan shook his head. "No, my dear. I will be the one to kill you, but it has to be done in the right way. I can't have any part of you broken or injured. I want your skin, you see."
Tressa's eyes grew wide for only a moment before she regained her composure. "You won't have any part of me."
Donovan shrugged. He felt oddly calm. He was so close to having everything he wanted—Tressa’s skin, the death of all the dragons, control over the Dragonlands. It was so close, he almost felt like it was all his already. Like nothing could stand in his way.
And what could? Not this helpless girl in front of him. Not the ones whose dragons he'd stolen. There were only a few people who weren't under his control. Soon, he would be able to right all of the wrongs that had been perpetuated since that dragon woman had tempted him back in his parents' barn. He would kill them all and make the world good again. And, maybe, just maybe he’d redeem himself.
He waited, but Tressa didn't respond. She bounced lightly back and forth, her fists just below her chin. Did she truly mean to fight him in hand-to-hand combat? Donovan held back a laugh.
"We can do this the easy way, Tressa. Accept your fate. Allow me to kill you with poison. It won't hurt, I swear."
"You're worried about not hurting me?" Tressa's lips snarled. "It's too late. There's nothing you could do that could hurt me now."
"Very well." Donovan took a cautious step toward her. There was a gleam in the girl's eye he hadn't seen before. No matter. It was almost done.
Tressa took a step toward him. It was not as he'd suspected she'd act. Her courage—no, foolhardiness—surprised him.
Donovan took another step. Tressa, another, until they were standing within arm’s reach of each other. The flames behind them were dying down. The slosh of water mixed with the cracking of bones as his army worked to tamp down Tressa's handiwork.
"Fi is in there," Tressa said. It was barely above a whisper. "I killed her. Then I set the cottage on fire."
Donovan didn't respond, unsure where she was headed with these statements.
Tressa's head cocked to the side and her nostrils flared. "What will happen to you will be much worse. Does it hurt when you stitch a new skin for yourself? I'll pull it apart, seam by seam, leaving your innards exposed to the elements. I'll lay you out on the ground, your wrists bound by rope tied to stakes. Then I'll pour honey over your body, leaving you to the carrion birds who will pick you apart until there is nothing left."
Donovan cracked a smile. The girl had imagination. Still, she had to die. He needed her skin. "Were you always like this? So delightful? Or did I make you this way?"
Tressa's lips turned up in a ghastly smirk. "Oh, Donovan, everything I am has always been inside me. I just choose how to present it to the world. You bring out the worst in me, but trust me, you did not make me. You will never control any part of me."
"Except your dragon." Donovan clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. "I do control that completely."
Tressa took another step toward him, and before he could block, she pressed a dagger to his throat. He paused for a moment, doing nothing more than breathing. He had had her searched. She should not have had a dagger.
She would not kill him. She couldn't. He'd tried to kill himself so many times in the early days, but nothing would bring death to his doorstep. There was nothing she could do to mortally wound him.
"I don't need my dragon for this." Tressa leaned in, dropping her lips on his.
Donovan's back stiffened as her lips moved on his. What was she doing? Had killing Fi completely unhinged the woman? He resisted, only for a moment, until his body surged with need. A woman hadn’t touched him like this in years. It felt so good. Better than he remembered. His dalliances with Magda as a skeleton were nothing compared to this.
Yes, this was the skin he wanted for his love.
Then she bit his lip and yanked her head back, ripping off some of his skin. A breeze flitted across his exposed teeth.
Tressa spit the chunk she'd stolen onto the grass, grinding it with her boot. "Donovan, I don't want you to take my skin."
He reached up, caressing her cheek. She was beautiful. He couldn't wait until her skin was on the bones of his beloved. "I'm sorry, but I must. Someone else needs it more than you do. Really, Tressa, you are useless now without your dragon. Why go on?"
Tressa's face softened. She rested a hand on his cheek, mirroring his actions. Her fingers traveled so close to the ugly hole she'd created in his skin. No matter. He'd find new skin soon. His beloved would have new skin, and he wanted to meet her with a new skin of his own. This one was already beginning to shrivel up.
His beloved. Soon they'd be together. So soon. He could almost let himself believe for a moment that it was she caressing his cheek. That it was she who stood so close. He closed his eyes for a moment, then snapped them back open as Tressa leaned in for one more kiss.
The girl had cracked. That much was clear. Still, one kiss wouldn't hurt. It had been so long since he had tasted live human flesh against his lips. So long since he'd felt the warmth of one who wanted him, too. Soon Tressa’s lips would belong to his beloved Magda. One premature taste of them wouldn’t hurt.
Her lips fell on his. She began to suck on his lip, and Donovan uttered a groan, unable to contain himself. How he'd missed this. Maybe just once with Tressa wouldn't...
No! He mustn't. That was how he'd gotten in trouble the first time, letting a woman trick him with her body.
Donovan pushed Tressa to the ground.
Instead of anger, she continued to smile. "Thank you, Donovan. Your blood was delicious. I feel so much better now."
Blood? He'd been so distracted, he hadn't even thought about the consequences of what she'd done. Furious, he leapt at her, his hands around her throat. Her skin would recover from the bruises. His love would still be beautiful. But he just couldn't allow Tressa to live. Not now. Not after what she'd done.
Tressa fought with nails and teeth, but it was the kick to his crotch that sent Donovan falling backward.
Tressa stood over him, a huge smile on her face. "Thank you for giving some of my blood back. I suddenly feel like flying."
Tressa spread her arms, jumped into the air, and changed into her dragon.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Tressa's wings beat furiously as she propelled herself into the sky. She'd taken back her blood from Donovan, even though the method made her stomach turn. Remembering the satisfaction of biting off his skin erased some of the shame of using her body to trap him. She’d done only what she needed to get her birthright back.
Feeling invincible, Tressa spun in the air, advancing on Donovan, who stood defenseless. His skeletons weren't stepping to his
defense. He stood there, calmly, staring at Tressa as she darted toward him.
In the blink of an eye, he transformed into his own dragon and flew toward her. Tressa spun, doubling back, heading toward the clouds. So it was true. He did have Mestifito's dragon. He even looked like his brother, so much that if they’d flown side by side, Tressa wasn't sure she could tell the two dragons apart.
She darted through a wet cloud, droplets streaming off the back of her wings. Tressa came about, waiting for Donovan to make his move. He flew closer, then stopped, flapping his wings to maintain altitude. Tressa eyed him, waiting, guessing what his next move might be. She'd never fought him before, had no idea what sort of training he'd had as a dragon. He could be clumsy or lethal.
She wasn't waiting to find out. Tressa lunged toward him, her teeth bared. Flying as fast as her wings could take her, Tressa reared back, striking Donovan on the neck with her head. He spun around, fighting to stay in the air.
Righting himself, Donovan hurtled at Tressa. She feinted to one side, and he missed by a breath. He recovered quickly, swinging back around and cracking Tressa's head with his. She swiped at him with her talons, catching his eye—the same one that had been scarred in his previous skin.
Donovan howled, and Tressa's jaw split into a wide smile. She'd hurt him, and she wanted to do it again.
She hissed as she sped toward Donovan, her talons out, ready to strike. Donovan spun in the air, nearly swiping her with his tail. The air rushed past her head as she ducked. It had been too close. Tressa backed away, eyeing Donovan from afar.
He took deep, gasping breaths. Was he already tiring? Tressa had never felt more alive, full of vitality. Whether it was the thrill of the battle or getting her dragon back, she wasn't sure. Either way, she knew she had him.
Tressa blew a stream of fire at Donovan, knowing it would do little to hurt him. Their scales protected the flesh underneath from dragonfire. Instead, the flames would irritate his eyes, making it harder for him to see her.
Tressa took advantage of his confusion, taking another swipe at him with her talons. She battered him until Donovan plummeted to the ground, slumping in a great black heap. Tressa cautiously flew closer, looking at his chest, checking for breathing.
His body contracted and expanded slowly. Still alive. Donovan shuddered, then transformed into a human.
This was it. All she had to was breathe fire on him. Roast him alive. It was what he deserved. A slow, painful death.
Only one thing kept her from killing him. Mestifito. What would happen to him if she killed Donovan? Would his dragon be released back to him? Would he be stuck the way he was forever? If there was a chance that keeping Donovan alive meant she could get Mestifito's dragon back for him, she knew she needed to do it. She, better than anyone, understood Mestifito’s sadness at losing his dragon. She wanted to blame him for refusing to help. Months ago, right after she lost her dragon, she would have done the same. She’d been given the time she needed to heal. It was only right to do the same for Mestifito.
With a heavy heart, Tressa changed back into her human form. She kicked Donovan in the side. He rolled over with a grunt.
He looked up at Tressa, his face pained. "I only wanted to make things right. Get rid of the dragons. Bring back my love."
"You're sick, Donovan. The years have twisted your mind into justifying everything you've done. Maybe you were wronged. Maybe your life was ruined. You've spent the last five hundred years trying to hurt everyone else. That will never make up for what was done to you." Tressa tried to dredge up some sympathy, but she couldn't. Despite everything that had happened to her, she couldn't understand how Donovan could justify anything he'd done.
"Help me." Donovan reached up to Tressa, his hand shaking. "Take me to my brother. Let me plead my case before Mestifito."
Tressa stepped on Donovan's arm, forcing his hand back to the ground. "Don't you dare touch me again. You don’t make the decisions anymore. I do. Understand?"
Donovan nodded, his eyes wet. The skin was torn on the eye she'd slashed in the sky. Good. Knowing she'd hurt him gave her some satisfaction. Unfortunately, she hungered for his blood, for his death. She couldn't take his life quite yet. Not until she'd gotten everything she needed from him.
Tressa pushed down harder with her boot. Donovan winced as his bone cracked under her weight. A broken finger wouldn't stop him physically, but it would dull his mind. No one could function properly in that kind of pain.
"You'll do as I say, or I'll kill you," Tressa promised.
Donovan nodded again.
"I'll take you to Mestifito and he will decide your fate. He is your brother. It's only right." Tressa thought of the man who cowered in the Ruins of Ebon, who had refused to help her when she'd begged. He, too, was broken. She looked down at Donovan again.
This was ridiculous. He had hurt and killed so many. Perhaps she should just kill Donovan and be done with it.
"May I say one thing?" Donovan asked, his voice a desperate whisper.
"What?" Tressa asked.
"It's not over. Not even close." Donovan's face contorted into a twisted smile. He opened his mouth and screamed, "Set him free!"
The skeletons, who until that moment had ignored the two of them, set off in a run toward the east.
"Where are they going?" Tressa asked, her heart thumping. She'd been focusing so hard on Donovan, she'd forgotten that she was surrounded by enemies.
Donovan cackled, spittle forming at the corners of his lips. "You'll see. Thank you for sparing my life. You have always been so gullible. So easily swayed."
Tressa kicked Donovan in the head. He slumped to the ground, out, but not dead.
Her eyes followed the skeletons as they clanked and clattered toward a cave. Tressa felt a deep pit in her stomach. On their way to the Meadowlands, Fi had mentioned something about a cave. That was where Donovan kept his greatest ally, the one who thirsted for dragon flesh.
"Decarian," Tressa said under her breath.
A great rumble shook the very ground under her feet. The skeletons hacked at the edges of the cave mouth. Fire spewed from the opening, and tears formed at the edges of Tressa's eyelids. A large fist burst from the cave, punching a dozen skeletons, knocking them to the ground. The roof of the cave exploded. Decarian rose from the underground, as strong and powerful as he'd been when Tressa saw him under the Red castle.
The skeletons raised their weapons, clanking their jaws together. Decarian stood to his full height, dwarfing all beneath him.
Tressa glanced down at Donovan, still out cold. She looked up at Decarian, weighing her options.
She couldn't fight the beast. Not as a human or a dragon. She had no choice. She would have to change into her dragon and flee.
Without another thought, Tressa transformed into her dragon, grabbed Donovan's limp body in her claws and took off for the west, flying as fast as her wings could carry her.
Tressa's wings beat hard, but her heart pounded harder. Decarian was back there. The skeleton army. She was one dragon. One person against a horde that could kill her in seconds. She'd gotten away, but one glance over her shoulder told her they weren't far behind. Dirt kicked up in the air. Shrieks and cackles reached out with wispy fingers. They were coming, and she knew she couldn't fly away forever. Eventually she'd have to stop. She'd have to face them. Then, she would die.
With squinted eyes, Tressa looked into the distance as she banked south toward Hutton's Bridge. It was the only place she could think to go. It was her home. No matter how far she wandered, her heart and soul always rested there. Maybe that was where her friends had gone after she'd been captured.
She scanned the ground, but there was no sign of Bastian and Connor or the army from the Vulture's Tower. She knew they wouldn't have abandoned her unless they had good reason. They were out there somewhere, and she would find them before she grew too weary.
She had to. There wasn't an alternative.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
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br /> Flying at top speed, Tressa was tiring quickly. It had been months since she'd been able to use her dragon form. She'd lost her stamina while she moped around the Ruins of Ebon. She cursed herself, wishing she'd stayed in better physical condition in preparation for her dragon's return.
It just confirmed what she'd feared: Tressa had never really believed her dragon was coming back.
And yet she'd stolen it from Donovan. It was hers again.
Tressa glided toward the ground. She wasn’t even close to Hutton’s Bridge. Instead, she tired out in the middle of the Dragonlands. There was no one around to help her.
She dropped Donovan onto the soft grass and settled next to him, keeping her dragon form. Tressa rested her snout next to Donovan, who was still passed out. The ground rumbled underneath her belly, telling her Donovan's army was close behind.
She looked to the west, defeated. There was nothing left for her now. Her friends had left. Granna had refused to rally the Black to her side. The Green had deserted the Meadowlands. The ghost dragons had disappeared days ago without warning.
She couldn't blame any of them. They all had so much to lose. What did Tressa have left? Nothing. Perhaps it was always her fate to die at the hands of the enemy. At least the others had time to get away. As long as some were saved, her efforts were not in vain.
She took a deep breath, then let out a puff of smoke from her nostrils. Donovan stirred, then came to, his eyes focused on hers.
"Please, Tressa,” he croaked. “Listen to reason. You will die. It is inevitable. You cannot fight my minions alone. Change back into a human. Allow me to have your skin. It will be well cared for. Well-loved. You will live on." Donovan sat up, his strength growing with every breath.
Tressa changed back into her human form. "I'd rather set myself on fire and burn alive than allow you to use my skin."
Donovan shrugged. "I can find another skin, but I'd prefer to use yours." He reached out a hand toward her, then snapped it back. His fingers skimmed his lip where she'd bitten him. "My Magda was sweet, but she could use some of your spirit. It’s a shame I can’t keep that part of you, too."
