by Olivia Ash
“Shifting takes trust,” Jace says quietly, his voice moving as he circles me. “It takes a certain surrender to give a bit of control over to your dragon. Dragons are wild creatures driven by impulse and hunger.” His finger brushes the back of my arm, stirring a flurry of desire deep within me, teasing me with an alternate meaning of the word. “It will take time to build that trust.”
Finally, there’s a blip of life deep within. A twisting sensation that feels like something coiling around itself, deep within my core. I gasp impulsively, trying to resist the impulse to pull away.
“Good,” he says. “Go deeper. Touch it. Tell it what you want.”
I square my shoulders.
Shift.
Nothing happens.
Please, I add.
It twirls again, retreating further within, and slips from my grasp. I frown and open my eyes, frustrated.
“It’s fine,” Jace says calmly, setting his hand on my shoulder. “It takes time.”
“I don’t have time.” I run my hands through my hair, resisting the impulse to punch something in frustration. “The Bosses are going to test me, the Spectres are after me, the Knights want me dead, and—”
“Rory,” Jace interrupts, holding both my shoulders as he stares deep into my eyes.
His stormy grey gaze snares me once more, holding me in place, giving me a moment of stillness despite the tempest of emotions blowing through me right now.
“You can’t rush these things,” he says with utter confidence. “You have a dragon in you, and that’s more than anyone ever expected. She’s growing quickly, but you can’t rush it. She grows when she grows—but the moment she’s ready, you have to be there to catch her. Do you understand me?”
“I think so,” I say with a nod. “Patience just isn’t really my thing.”
“Yeah, no joke.” Jace flashes that cocky grin of his.
I playfully push him away as punishment for that little jibe, but the warrior shifter just laughs and effortlessly recovers.
“It’ll happen,” he promises, setting his arm around my shoulders. His touch ignites sparks of energy throughout my body, and I can’t help but appreciate his confidence in me.
For him, it’s not if I’ll shift—it’s when.
I may have grown up hunting dragons, but the thought of becoming one is dazzling. The power. The strength.
The freedom.
I can hardly wait.
Chapter Seven
I sit at the edge of a cliff, watching the sun set on another day in the dojo. With a deep sigh, I lean back on my palms and let my legs dangle over the ridge.
Jace’s confidence in my ability to shift is endearing, but I find it hard to be patient. Every time I think of the Bosses, the Vaer, Zurie, or Diesel, I just want to give in to this aching need in my chest to shift. I want to show them I’m not to be messed with, that the dragon in me won’t allow it.
But I can’t.
I can’t shift.
Not yet. My dragon’s just not ready.
I groan and fall onto my back, staring up at the branches above me. The canopy inches toward the cliff, like the trees are afraid to look into the foggy abyss, and bits of the blue sky break through the leaves above.
In a blue, blurry rush, Levi’s head leans over me. His nose dangles inches from my face, and he smiles a very toothy smile.
I gasp violently in surprise and instantly burst out laughing, my hand on my chest as my heart races from the shock of his sudden appearance. “Oh, gods. That must be how Tucker feels every time I sneak up on him.”
A few huffing breaths escape Levi—a dragon laugh.
Only Levi can get away with this. Seriously, I have no idea how he learned to be so stealthy, but he surpasses even Zurie’s ability to sneak.
I sit upright and lean one relaxed elbow on my knee, observing the ice dragon as he curls around me. His tail drapes over the ledge, and he sets his head on the ground beside me.
He growls with pleasure, his eyes fluttering closed, and he nibbles affectionately at my knee. His touch tickles, and I chuckle again as we love on each other. I adore the little things that remind me of the human man within this massive dragon.
Absently, I run my fingers along his forehead, happy to see him. In a rush, our connection opens, and emotion floods through my fingers and into my core.
Calmness.
Satisfaction.
Peace.
And, underneath it all, a steady hint of worry.
My smile falls, and I try not to think about it so that I don’t stir up his own thoughts through our now-open connection. I know he’s worried about being feral, about losing himself to his dragon, and it won’t do much good to push him into talking about it.
What’s bothering you? he asks.
“My shift,” I admit. “There’s this—this urge, this overwhelming need to do it, but my dragon isn’t ready yet. It sets me on edge, Levi.”
I remember those days. He lifts his head, and I slide my hand along his neck to maintain the connection as he looks out over the misty ravine below us. The ache. I once leapt off a cliff to force it.
“Really?” I peek at the ravine below us.
Don’t you dare, Rory, Levi says, giving me a sidelong glare. A protective surge of energy bleeds through our connection, his warning against following in his footsteps. I was a dumb kid. It didn’t work.
“Fine.” I roll my eyes.
I miss it, he admits. That feeling.
“Which one?”
Trust. He sighs and lays his head on the ground once more. Trust in my dragon.
My jaw tenses, and I don’t know what to say. I run my finger along his forehead again, trying my best to comfort him.
I’ve never really been good at comforting others, but for Levi, I’ll try.
He won’t let me shift back, Levi says, his eyes closing. I hate him, sometimes.
My heart twists at the confession. “Levi…” As I trail off, at an utter loss for words, I wrap my arms around his neck. He growls softly, leaning in to me, and a flood of sadness bleeds through from him.
Loss.
Pain.
Devastation.
Isolation.
“What happens when you try to shift?” I ask.
He’s too strong. Levi sighs. Blocks me.
I haven’t found much information on what makes a dragon feral, but what I have discovered doesn’t bode well for my ice dragon. In moments of intense trauma, the dragon takes over as an act of self-preservation—and never lets go. It’s a fracture, in that moment, where the dragon and the shifter no longer trust each other.
Shifters need balance to survive, Levi says, no doubt reading my thoughts. We need each other.
“You’ll fix this, Levi. You can still heal.”
Maybe. He doesn’t sound convinced.
“What happened?” I ask, careful with how I prod into this. “Can you tell me? We can work through it together.”
He pauses, his eyes shifting toward me as he hesitates to answer.
“You don’t have to,” I remind him, even though I want nothing more than to help him through this. “Only if you want.”
He sighs, and a flurry of snow cascades from his nose. I was in an elite squad. Defense. Learned stealth from my teachers. Was the best.
It hurts to hear the fractured thoughts and crumbling sentences. It’s like he slips in and out of being totally coherent, capable of full thought sometimes and not others. It reminds me of how far gone he already is, but I cling to the fact that he’s still here. He’s still talking to me, so he’s not gone.
I won’t let him fade completely.
There’s a rustle of leaves behind us as someone walks closer, but I ignore it. I don’t want to lose this moment with Levi.
“Do you remember what made you feral? Maybe we can—”
He snarls, as if someone stabbed him. Instantly, he breaks the connection, stepping away from me as his wings spread wide.
“Levi, wa
it—”
He takes off without another word, the gust from his wings violently tussling my hair. He roars into the sky as he dives into the misty ravine below, and just as quickly as he appeared, he’s gone.
“Damn it.” I rub my eyes, furious with myself for pushing him too far. I hadn’t realized—
“Yeah, he does that to me, too,” Tucker says from behind me. “Any time we talk about what made him feral, he up and leaves.”
I peer over my shoulder to find Tucker with his hands in his pockets, watching the ravine as he leans against a tree. Our eyes meet, and I sigh in resignation. “He can’t avoid this forever.”
“No, he can’t,” Tucker says, joining me. As he plops down in the dirt where Levi sat moments before, he sets a comforting arm around my shoulders.
“Whatever happened must have been truly horrible,” I say absently.
“Yeah,” Tucker admits. “He’s not usually one to avoid talking about the difficult things.”
I shake my head in frustration. “He has to face this. He has to heal it, or we’ll lose him.”
“I’m looking into it,” Tucker says. “But there’s no recorded history of a dragon coming back from being feral. Ever.”
Right. That’s what everyone keeps telling me.
I tap my finger on my lips, deep in thought. “Maybe we need to change our focus.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe instead of looking for someone else who’s done it, we need to better understand what makes it happen in the first place. Is it really just self-preservation of the dragon? Or is there a way to rebuild the trust between the two of them? If we can figure that out, maybe we can reverse it.”
“That’s a good idea, babe,” Tucker says, squeezing my shoulder. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Me, too,” I promise. “Drew and Jace said they’re looking into it, too. Between the four of us, we’ll find something. We have to.”
In fact, I think I know a fifth person who can help—though I’m not entirely fond of asking for a favor.
We sit for a while in silence, both of us lost in thought as we enjoy the lingering sunlight burning behind the mountains. Ribbons of orange and yellow light dance through the clouds as dragons fly by, seemingly immune to the beauty.
“Are you ready for all hell to break loose?” Tucker eventually asks. “With this meeting…”
“Yeah,” I say with a grin. “I’ll be fine as long as I have a badass like you at my side.”
He grins and kisses my nose, all flirty fun once again. “Face it, you only like me for my guns.”
“Sir, I am insulted.” I feign offense and set my hand on my heart to really sell it. “I also like your body.”
He laughs and pokes me in the side before smothering me with kisses. As I chuckle, enjoying this ridiculous man beside me, I can’t help but be grateful. No matter what’s going on, even if the world is ending, Tucker can always make me laugh—and remind me of the joy in everything.
Even when everything else feels dire.
Chapter Eight
Since we leave to meet with the Bosses tomorrow, I take the chance to sit on my roof one more time before we head out. This place helps me settle my racing thoughts, and I like it up here.
The sunrise is beautiful, as always, and I smile as I take a deep breath of the breeze billowing through my hair. I close my eyes as the first rays of sun finally peek above the horizon and hit my skin. Content, I drink in the light’s warmth.
The clink of hands grabbing shingles catches my attention. Seconds later, someone hoists themselves onto the roof, and footsteps crunch toward me.
For a moment, I expect Drew—but this isn’t his gait. It’s too light. The gap between each step is shorter than his are. This is someone else.
I tense, unsure of what to expect.
When in doubt, I prepare for war.
I tilt my head over my shoulder, feigning a relaxed glance even as I curl my fingers into a fist and get ready to break a nose or two. I may look calm, but I’m prepared to punch this person hard enough to knock them off the damn roof if they try anything.
To my surprise, Harper walks toward me with a warm smile on her face.
I relax my fist, but only slightly. I like this woman, but I’m never quite sure what to expect of her.
Unpredictability must be a common Fairfax trait.
“May I join you?” the Fairfax Boss asks.
I nod.
She sits beside me, her hands around her knees as she looks out over the beautiful forest that surrounds the dojo. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”
I shrug. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”
“I know you’re not used to the spotlight,” Harper says with a relaxed tilt of her head. “I figure this is going to be quite the challenge, but I know you can do this.”
With a sidelong glance, I watch her for a moment. Up until now, I assumed she knows nothing about my past—but with that little comment, I start to doubt myself a little.
Jace is hellbent on Harper never knowing about the Spectre—soon to be Spectres—in his midst. Perhaps, however, Harper has her own means of discovering information.
But she continues to smile, and if she’s bothered by any of it, she doesn’t let it show.
Interesting.
“I’m sure you know I’ll be there,” Harper adds.
“So I’ve been told.”
“I have to warn you,” the Fairfax Boss says. “I’ll be… well, different.”
“How so?”
“I call it Boss Mode,” Harper says with a playful grin, her gaze shifting toward me as she speaks. “No humor. No laughter. I have to look as though I’ll go to war at any moment. If I’m my usual, jovial self at these meetings, the other Bosses get a little too comfortable with me. They push boundaries they know better than to push.”
I grin. I can’t help it. “The poor fools.”
“Right?” Harper lifts her hand, clearly incredulous. “Thank you. You understand.”
I shrug. “I know what it’s like to be underestimated.”
“Yeah, I bet you do,” The Boss says teasingly as she returns her attention to the forests beyond. “That said, I can’t let them realize we’re friends. You can’t seem to have picked sides, at least not yet.”
I don’t answer. I’m still ruminating on the word friends, so casually tossed into the conversation, as if it’s already fact. As if my lifelong training hadn’t taught me friendship is a weakness to exploit. As if I even know how to let my guard down long enough to have one.
I’m not sure if I like it, or if I agree. I mean, I enjoy Harper, but she’s still a Boss. She has the resources, opportunity, and authority to truly destroy my life and everything I love.
Technically, she walks among my enemies.
“Jace gave me the antidote breakdown,” Harper says, continuing without so much as a pause. “I’m sure he’s given you the rundown on what happens next. Even though it will take time to disperse and produce it, we’re giving it a little financial push. The antidote will be on the market in three to four months.”
I frown. “Is that soon enough?”
“I don’t like it, either, but it’s the absolute fastest we can do,” Harper admits with a frown. “If something happens sooner, the companies will expedite production on governmental orders. We’re just waiting on the red tape to clear, and I have some production going on as we speak to help offset the risk. As soon as the bureaucracy is over, there’s going to be four crates of the antidote in every hospital worldwide.”
“Good.” I take a deep breath, my shoulders relaxing a little at the thought of disarming Kinsley. “Will the Vaer have notice?”
“None.” Harper curls her thumb and pointer finger together in the shape of an “O.” “Big fat zero. Everything is done under the radar. As far as Kinsley is concerned, she’ll wake up one day to a useless bio-weapon.”
I smirk. Serves her right.
“Unless the
other Bosses tell her, of course,” Harper adds with a frustrated sigh. “But they all hate the Vaer as much as you and I do, so that’s a minimal risk.”
“Kinsley can still make more,” I point out. “New variations. New styles.”
“Maybe,” Harper admits with a nod. “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there, huh?”
The Fairfax Boss smiles knowingly at me, and I have to confess—despite the raw power she wields, she somehow manages to be utterly endearing.
I don’t know how she does it. It’s like a radiant, adorable superpower.
“Did you just come to check on me?” I ask, tilting a skeptical eyebrow. “Or is there another reason you’re here?”
Harper chuckles. “Not everyone’s out to use you, Rory.”
“It’s a fair question.”
The woman sighs deeply. “There is one thing, yes.”
My smile fades, and I tilt my head away to hide my disappointment. Before she has the chance to ask anything of me, there’s something I want to ask of her. “First, I’d like a favor.”
“Oh?”
I was going to wait until the meeting, when I knew I’d see her, but now is a safer time to get this ball rolling. Fewer possible witnesses. “I need information on how to get a dragon back from the brink of being feral.” I pause, careful with how I phrase my words. “As well as what causes the fracture in the first place.”
“Ah.” In the corner of my eye, Harper nods knowingly. “You’re worried about Levi.”
I don’t answer. It’s not necessary. At this point, I would rather she think whatever she wants, as long as I get my intel.
“I’ll see what I can find, Rory.” Harper adjusts her weight, getting more comfortable as we sit together on the roof. “I have some very capable people on my staff.”
“I’m sure you do.”
It’s why I asked her. A Boss has access to things even a General doesn’t. If anyone can get me the information I need, it’s Harper.
The problem is—what will it cost me?
