Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 120974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
She looks at me.
“Then I could Shift and fly away without you, isn’t that right, Princess?” I say dryly.
Once, I might have wanted that—it was all I thought about at first. But now…well, I have to confess I’ve developed some strong and very confusing feelings for my curvy little Princess. Feelings I really haven’t sorted out myself. I only know I wouldn’t leave her to fend for herself, even if I could.
“Yes,” she whispers. “You could just fly away and leave me here, I guess.”
“I don’t think your man is likely to leave you any time soon,” the Sorceress says smoothly, breaking the moment. “And Irena, the very fact that you are able to wear that ring and wield the power it possesses is proof positive that you do have magic of your own. For none but a powerful magician could control a Drake Shifter like Valen.”
“But I don’t control him—he mostly does as he pleases,” Irena says plaintively.
I smirk despite myself.
“That is because he has magic too—but it is magic inherent to his Drake form,” the Sorceress explains. “Magic is part of who he is—not what he does. For your people, magic is something you do—not what you are. Do you see the difference?”
“Yes, I suppose. But I still don’t think I have enough magic to heal my mother.”
“Let me prove it to you,” the Sorceress says. “With your help, if you please, Master Drake?”
I frown, but nod slowly. “All right—what do you want me to do?”
“To start, I’d like to see your Drake. Do you think you have room to Shift in here?”
I glance around the enormous banquet hall. High ceilings. Plenty of space.
“Yes, actually. It’ll be the first time I’ve ever shifted indoors, though.”
“Please Shift for me,” she says. “And then we will continue.”
“All right, but I’ll have to take off these clothes if you don’t want me to ruin them,” I warn her. I doubt this will be a problem though—the Lady of Thornmere doesn’t strike me as the kind that minds seeing a naked man.
“But of course,” she says serenely. “Please remove your clothing if you need to.”
“All right—you asked for it.”
I rise, stripping without ceremony. Cloak. Tunic. Trousers. Boots. I stand naked and unashamed—but alert. I glance at Irena. Her lips part and her cheeks flame. Gods, she looks hungry.
And inside, I feel my Drake answering her hunger.
Easy, I warn the beast inside me. She’s already overwhelmed. She’s only seen you once before and that was while sitting on your back. She’s never really seen all of you.
The Drake stirs, restless and eager. Let me out, he urges. Let her see me. I’ll be careful..
“Just behave,” I murmur under my breath. She might be frightened so don’t go to her—let her come to you. And absolutely NO breathing fire indoors, I add mentally.
The Drake agrees—grudgingly.
“All right—I’m ready,” I say at last. “I, uh, had to have a talk with my other half about manners.”
“Which is much appreciated. Whenever you’re ready, please Shift,” the Sorceress replies.
I move away from the table, making sure there’s space. Then I close my eyes and let go.
Fire floods my veins. Bones and muscles reshape, scales sliding over skin like living armor. Wings tear free, stretching wide. My senses sharpen, my vision flaring red and gold and black.
I exhale slowly as my Drake emerges fully.
We are one…we are here.
53
IRENA
I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
This is the first time I’ve truly laid eyes on Valen’s Dragon—not just a glimpse while clinging to his back during a desperate escape or a vague impression in the dark. Now… now I see him.
And Goddess, he is magnificent.
His scales shimmer in the candlelight of the Sorceress’s vast banquet hall—deep crimson, each one edged in gold as though outlined in fire. His body is long and lean, sleek with power, his wings folded at his sides like elegant fans. Steam curls from his nostrils in soft white puffs as he exhales, the heat of his inner flame escaping into the air. The scent of him—warm metal and smoke and something wilder, older—makes my skin prickle.
And his eyes…I could fall into them forever.
One huge golden eye, the size of a dinner plate, focuses on me. The pupil is a vertical slit, inhuman but not unkind. It watches me with a strange intensity, as though seeing not just my face but into the very marrow of who I am. I feel it like a stroke down my spine, electric and undeniable. That gaze holds no hate…no violence.
Only longing.
My breath catches in my throat and I feel it like a whisper in my bones.
“He… he wants to meet me,” I breathe, not even realizing I’m speaking aloud.
“Then go and meet him,” the Sorceress urges, rising gracefully from the table to come stand beside me. Her voice is rich with amusement and certainty. “Believe me, he would have no interest in you if you were not a powerful magician. Magic calls to magic, my dear.”