by Rene Folsom
“Are you sure about what you’ve heard?” Langston asks. His nerves are almost palpable as he stares at me with worry-filled eyes.
I’m not sure how to respond to his inquiry. I’m not sure how to respond to any of this. Yet, for my sanity, I knew I needed to tell someone I trust. It’s not like I can just shout out from the rooftops that I’ve seen a dragon, but how can I keep it from the one person I’ve connected with since leaving camp?
Finally, I nod. “I’m sure of what I’ve heard.”
Langston glances around us, his eyes darting from side to side to make sure no one is around to hear. “How can you be sure?”
I swallow hard. “Because I’ve seen it.”
“You’ve seen…” He clears his throat. “You’ve seen what?”
Now that I’ve had a chance to put my boots back on my feet, my pain levels at an extreme even though I force myself to stand, I walk toward Toke’s stall and begin to groom his long mane.
Langston follows me. He knows my diversion is a clear need for us to be alone and far from earshot. “Dragons,” I whisper.
“What?” Langston gasps, his question nothing more than a show of shock. “Don’t you dare say that out loud, girl. Not around here. Not unless you want to be executed. Bite your tongue, right now, you hear?”
I nod, though I don’t know if I can hold my tongue when it comes to something like this.
I don’t look at Langston as I continue to brush Toke’s mane and whisper, “I don’t know what to do.”
“And I don’t know what to do to help you,” he says, his hand now busy with a brush, petting at Toke’s coat and grooming him like he does each horse every single day.
“I…” Whispering, I attempt to restart my thoughts, making it seem like I’m confident, even though the pain shooting through my feet make me feel so very weak. “I feel like I need to tell someone. Anyone. Someone who can listen, even if they’re not able to provide advice, however much I need it.” I begin to twist Toke’s mane, his long, black hair perfect for twists and braids, despite how Seneca would feel about his male horse being beautified. “When a girl sees a dragon, however brief the experience, it seems to be worthy of a headline.”
“No.” Langston shakes his head, his voice also a low murmur. We hope no one is able to hear us as we talk, other than the beautiful horse we continue to groom together. Thank goodness horses can’t talk. “The last thing you need is to bring attention to this… which brings me to my next question.”
I stop twisting Toke’s hair, regarding Langston expectantly. At least he’s listening to me, even if he is completely against my words.
“When did your hair start changing colors?” As he asks, he stares at my head, despite the fact my cap is now settled just where it should be, covering my hair and keeping it away from onlookers. Yet, after seeing the changes in me, it’s no longer a secret that I have them after my stint in the square.
He has seen the red streaks.
“I noticed them mere hours after I arrived here at House Kincaid. I saw the change as soon as I took my cap off in front of the mirror in my room.” I dip my head down, my eyes set on Toke’s mane while I use my fingers to twist each strand. His hair is so soft and slick, making it a perfect mane to dress.
“Had you come into any contact with one of the brothers that day?” Langston asks while he switches sides and is now standing beside me while he brushes Toke’s coat.
I have to think about his question, that day being so very long ago in comparison to what has transpired since. Then I remember, while I hadn’t known the brothers until I saw them at the ceremony, I remembered seeing Vulcan coming out of Greann’s room before I was forced to ready her for the commencement ceremony. I also remember the other brother, though I didn’t know who he was before that instance, who I now know was Seneca. I’d had a conversation with him in the hall before he walked away from me.
I’d been around two of them.
Two.
Finally, after gathering my memories, I whisper, “Yes. Seneca and Vulcan. I’d spoken to them both before sleeping that night.”
Langston stops brushing the horse, then rubs his beard with his other hand. He mumbles something about not enough time, and something else about sacred, yet I can’t quite grasp the meaning.
“You need to be sure to keep your wits about you when you’re around the brothers.” It was more of a demand than anything, and it solidified my choice in allies.
I had planned to stay grounded around the Kincaid brothers, but since they have shown interest in me, I feel an overwhelming need to use their attraction to my advantage—to escape.
Still twisting Toke’s hair, I lean closer. “As soon as I get my shot, I’m getting the fuck out of here. You’re welcome to come with me, Langston.”
His head ducks under the horse’s neck, his wide eyes staring at me before they finally narrow with disbelief.
“Why would I leave here?” His voice sounds surprised, yet his face looks downright hateful, like life doesn’t expand beyond this place he lives in.
Steeling myself against the pain, I stand and straighten my back. “I want to leave because I don’t want to be treated like a lowly servant anymore.” I lean closer to him, my voice back to a whisper. “We are not slaves, Langston.”
“You’re right.” He nods. “I’m not a slave. You’re not a slave. Talia’s not a slave. None of us are. Yet you want to leave everyone behind… and for what? Because all you care about is yourself.”
With his scathing parting words, he leaves the stables. I don’t understand why he expects me to care about anyone but myself. No one on this property has done anything for me. Why should I care what happens to them?
It takes me a while to finish twisting Toke’s mane, but with trembling fingers, I finally manage. Wincing with each step, I do my best to make it back to the main house. No matter how strong I want to be, the pain is becoming unbearable. It takes me forever to get to the entrance of the gardens, especially as I baby each and every step along the cobbled path.
As I walk, I continue to get that feeling I’m being followed. I can’t run now since I’m wounded, and I sure as hell can’t fight back without sturdy feet. The only thing I can do is speak… my voice is my only strength at this point.
And I don’t ever hesitate to use it.
“I might not understand why you’re following me, but I can feel you. I know what you are.” I swallow, though my mouth is dry with nerves. “I do honestly appreciate the fact you didn’t burn me to a crisp the other day. Although I’m thinking death may have been the better option now that I’m hobbling around like a fire burns beneath my feet.”
Hot breath fans across the back of my neck in response to my tirade.
It’s the same dragon from the other day. I’m confident.
Now that I’ve called him out and made his presence known, I can make out his shadow on the pavement before me as it covers mine.
I stop walking—well, more like I stop hobbling. I wonder what would happen if I turned around. Would the dragon let me see him?
A male voice, the pitch and waves so familiar to me, whispers inside my mind, “Turn around and find what you seek.”
Challenge accepted.
I take several breaths before turning around to meet my fate.
It takes me a moment to come to terms with what is standing in front of me. I can’t remember a time when anyone could say they were in the presence of a dragon at close range. All the stories I’ve heard have been nothing but folklore. When a person told tales of seeing or hearing a beast they thought was a dragon, it was always from a distance. And even then, the sightings were few and far between if they were ever deemed legitimate.
But a dragon stares down at me, his posture stooped and almost submissive. I can tell he’s trying to seem smaller because he doesn’t want to scare me, yet any beast of his size should never have to bow down to a lowly servant.
His massive, leathery wings lay flat agai
nst his sides, ruffling with every breath he takes. Large, metallic blue scales shimmer in what is left of the descending sun, shades of deep purples and oranges making the blue stand out. He watches me. I don’t dare take my eyes off him. No sane person would be able to. His cat-like blue eyes narrow as if to focus on me.
“Why do you keep following me?” I demand from a beast that’s ten times my size, not caring I sound rude.
I expect him to growl at me. Instead, his mouth barely moves, but words seem to form and take shape in my brain.
“Why do you keep trying to escape?”
I snort, unsure of what to say. I still can’t believe I’m talking to a dragon!
It’s unreal.
“Who says I’m trying to escape?” My voice seems way too loud in the quiet courtyard.
The dragon, his blue scales so captivating in the muted light of sunset, crouches lower until his hot breath becomes almost unbearable against my skin. When my eyes widen with both amazement and fear, he straightens and shuffles back a step. I focus on his stalky hind legs as he maneuvers his broad body to put distance between us.
Distance I almost wish away.
“I followed you the first time you took Tempie out, and I know your reasonings for wanting to learn to ride her. You didn’t see me, but I watched. Then, you were ridiculous enough to climb up that tree, only to fall. What would have happened if I weren’t there to catch you?” The dragon raises what I can only assume is an eyebrow. Even though it’s a human gesture, it still looks strange on him because his lids are layered with tiny rows of sharp horns.
I shake my head, finally feeling the need to take a step or two back from this magnificent and yet terrifying monster. “But… you weren’t the one to catch me that night. Graham was the one who saved me.”
“That’s precisely what I just said,” he counters quickly. “Take a moment to think about it.”
Why would the dragon say it was him if it wasn’t? I try to process what he’s saying when it dawns on me. “So, are you related to House Kincaid? Is Graham one of your kin?”
That has to be it, because there’s no way Graham is the dragon. That isn’t possible. I have heard enough stories to know dragons can no longer shift into humans. The last of the Tarragon died out long ago or became trapped in their dragon form and have long since been extinct—or so I thought. Back in the day, dragons could live for over a thousand years.
This dragon simply can’t be Graham. Then again, this dragon shouldn’t even exist. Maybe he once walked as a man and the extinction stories aren’t as true as I thought. But still, shapeshifting from dragon to human form is no longer possible.
No way.
Right?
“I am of House Kincaid, yes.” the dragon answers, his words echoing in my head as if they’re my own, only they’re not.
That explains it. “You told Graham where I was.” While I phrase it like a statement, it’s more of a question. Well, more of an accusation.
The blue beast doesn’t respond to my allegation, not verbally anyway. But I’m confident there’s no other answer for it. He had to have warned Graham I was in the tree at the time I fell.
The dragon’s eyes keep going to my feet, my ugly boots clearly not the reason he’s staring. Since my feet are swollen from the whip, it probably looks as if my shoes are too small.
“I can help with that,” he comments without raising his heed. “I want to help you.”
His voice is soft and deepens to a warm purr. I can’t help but be taken with him. Something about him makes me want to trust him. I don’t know that I can feel comfortable calling him a gentle giant, because that would be naive of me. He’s a monster. He breathes fire. And if the mood ever did strike him, he could eat me.
“I can’t let you do that.”
“You don’t have to worry, I’m not going to tell anyone,” he says, clearly trying to placate me.
I’m skeptical. The last thing I need is to let my guard down so a dragon can officially do me in as a part of Greann’s vindictive wishes.
“I don’t know if that’s true. You wouldn’t say something like that if you didn’t have it in your mind to follow through.”
“It is true though, Zhavia. I could have said something about you wandering the gardens several nights ago, but I didn’t.” He sounds smug, as if I should bow down and thank him for his generosity.
That’s a whole lot of N.O.P.E.
“Well, if you are who you say you are, you would know you don’t have to snitch on me. Graham would know I outed myself when I threatened to run in front of Lady Greann.” My tone was more of a sneer when I called Greann a lady.
She’s anything but a lady.
“Do you consider that a good idea?” I can feel more than hear his reprimand bouncing around in my brain like little ping pong balls of sound and words.
Do I dare tell anyone about my misbehavior? Under normal circumstances, I’d say no. But there’s no way in hell this dragon is for real. I must’ve passed out and my fucked-up brain is hallucinating a dragon to life.
I decide it’s best to blurt it out. If this dragon is just a figment of my imagination, no one will be the wiser. But if he’s for real, my life is already over anyway and I have nothing to lose.
“You want to know why I threatened to run?” I ask with a rather sharp bite in my tone.
The dragon’s massive head nods, his words no longer in my brain.
“I threatened escape because the brothers were becoming too much for me to handle, and I knew if I didn’t get out, I would be stuck for life. When Vulcan kissed me, I realized my time was limited. Even if Greann didn’t find out, I was confident in that very moment my life was never going to be the same. I am aware that any other sane female would have thought it an exceptional experience, comparing it to all the kisses they’ve experienced in their lifetime.” I breathe and swallow, my mouth feeling way too dry and my lips parched for water. Still, I carry on, needing to get all this weight off my chest once and for all.
Who better to do it with than a dragon?
“Vulcan shouldn’t have kissed me. He and his brothers are the reason I was disciplined. They’re the reason I’m in pain.” I’m sure he can feel the scorn echoing through me. My derision about the situation is beyond obvious.
The dragon blinks, the layers of his eyelids fluttering. “Graham kissed you as well. How did that turn out?”
How the hell does this beast know Graham kissed me? No one but the brothers should know that. Dragon magic is the only way to explain it. Then again, I remember the Kincaid brothers being able to do that as well—pluck thoughts from my mind. Hell, they were even able to have conversations with me.
I’d just thought I was going insane. Then again, I still might be.
If telepathy doesn’t explain what’s happening, then it’s official.
I’m fucked in the brain.
Still, I tilt my head to the side in disbelief, careful with my words. I shouldn’t trust anyone, let alone a beast who isn’t supposed to exist.
“Why do you want to know about Graham’s kiss?”
“Call it curiosity. I don’t have the luxury of walking around in human flesh right now. It would please me if you would describe it for me.”
This conversation has taken a very twisted turn.
“It was a kiss. I don’t understand what more there is to interpret,” I say with a shrug.
The beast makes a sound as if to sigh, then pins me with a glacial stare. “Indulge me,” he demands.
Fine. I still think this entire encounter is my brain going mad, so why not play along? I’ve already lost my marbles anyway.
“It wasn’t anything like Vulcan’s touch. Graham’s kiss was playful, but intense at the same time. When he pulled his lips from mine, I felt lost, yet tethered to him all in the same breath.”
The dragon closes his eyes briefly, not like he’s in pain, but like my words touched him in some way. I can see his eyes move behind his otherworldly
lids, and a small part of me is hoping he’s taking his time to visualize my rather intimate experience.
“Intense is one way I would describe the moment.” The dragon finally opens his eyes, his glacial glare homing in on me. “I imagine Graham would have taken you to bed if he had a choice.”
A choice I can only hope he never tries to act on. I can’t imagine I’d be strong enough to reject his advances, and I definitely don’t plan on being here long enough for something like that to happen—even if the thought of going to bed with someone like Graham would prove to be a moving experience.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I warn. “I’m a servant here in House Kincaid. I’m nothing more than a weed.”
“That you are, and as I am of House Kincaid, you will also serve me when I ask. But first, I would like to do something for you in return for your expectant loyalty.”
I’m always skeptical when anyone speaks of my loyal servitude, especially since my plans have been anything but loyal. So with careful consideration, I ask, “What is it you would like to do?”
“I can heal your feet,” the beast says in a matter-of-fact tone.
I shake my head. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I want to help, and because you don’t deserve to be hurting.” He sounds so sincere, but I fear if I am healed, I’d only bring more attention to myself. I can’t survive another beating.
“Thank you for the offer, but no.” I continue to shake my head defiantly. “I don’t need to be in the spotlight any more than I have been recently. I want to stay under the radar as much as possible.”
“I understand where you’re coming from.” A heated sigh blows from the dragon’s nostrils. “What if I just take the pain away, but allow the scars to remain?”
I sincerely hope he’s not lying. I don’t want to get my hopes up, but I do anyway. Who in my situation wouldn’t? The pain is just too unbearable to not be hopeful.
“You can do that?” I ask with wonder.
