Page 43 of Curse of the Midnight Dragon (The Moonlight Dragon #2)

Celestina

Barefoot and wearing nothing more than my sleeveless silver dress, I was freezing by the time Amaya crashed down on the plateau. I rolled in the grass, scraping my knees and elbows, tearing the skirt of the dress. Trace landed next to us and immediately took his naked human form. Breathing hard, he towered over me. His eyes flared with rage.

I screeched and scooted back as he reached for me.

“Don’t—!” I started to command him not to touch me. I used my growly voice. Before I could get all the words out, he slapped his hand over my mouth and dragged me to my feet. He pressed my head to his bare chest to keep me from being able to speak and grabbed a cloth handkerchief from one of the lads running up to greet us. He stuffed the cloth into my mouth so deep I was gagging on it. He then grabbed another handkerchief and tied it around my head to hold the gag in place.

“That’ll keep you from trying any of those dirty tricks of yours.”

“Where are you taking her?” Amaya demanded. She’d shifted into her human form, pulling on black pants and a black sweater through her magic. This seemed to surprise a few of the dragons who landed around us. She clutched a book to her chest with her left hand and held a dagger ready for battle in her right.

Trace only growled as he dragged me down the street and toward his shop. She ran after him, but he threatened to break my arm if Amaya didn’t stay back. He pulled me into his shop and locked the door behind him.

“You can’t hurt her!” Amaya pounded on the door. “She willingly returned to us!” There was more pounding. “She’s the clan’s savior!”

Trace didn’t react. He closed his hands over mine like manacles as he pulled me toward the stairs. I fought with all my strength to keep from being taken up to the bedrooms against my will. I’d agreed to come back to him. I’d agreed to let this be my life. Why was he making my return violent?

“Come away from here, Amaya,” Drix shouted at his daughter. There was what sounded like a scuffle outside the door. “He won’t kill her,” his voice sounded strained. There was a thud against the door. “But he will teach her a lesson in obedience.” There was another thud against the door. “As is his right.”

No one had that right, not over me, not over anybody. I managed to kick Trace in the shin hard enough that he stumbled. In retaliation, he slammed my head against the nearest wall. The room spun in and out of focus.

Taking advantage of my disorientation from the blow, he moved quickly, dragging me up the stairs, down the hallway, and into the bedroom I’d been using.

The lone window in the room, the same window Soren had used as our escape route, had been boarded up. Trace tossed me onto the bed, which had been stripped down to the bare mattress. He grabbed a length of rope that had been left on the bed and wrapped it around my wrists. With quick movements he secured the rope to the heavy wooden bedframe, leaving me very little slack. He’d tied the rope so tightly, my fingers immediately started turning blue and my hands throbbed. I knelt on the bed and pressed my hands to the bedframe to give the rope as much slack as possible.

I’d freed myself from ropes before when I was with Soren. But I had no idea how I’d managed to break through the binding spell to get my magic to work while we were in that ship’s cabin together. And because I’d slipped free from the ropes without having to practice untying Soren’s impossible knots, I never did master the skill Soren had been trying to teach me. Even so, I twisted and turned my bound wrists, hoping to spark my magic and free me from the tight bindings.

My head was still spinning from being slammed against the wall, and my stomach was now rebelling. If I threw up, it would be all over myself. And I had a feeling Trace would end up blaming me for it and leave me wallowing in my own sick. I took long, slow breaths, hoping to keep from vomiting.

After testing the bindings to ensure I couldn’t escape, he ripped the rag from my mouth.

The first thing I did was summon my growly voice.

He slapped his hand over my mouth so fast, I didn’t manage to utter a sound. “If you try to use your magic to compel me, I’ll cut out your tongue. Nod if you understand.”

He sounded so hard, so angry. My entire body started to tremble as I carefully nodded.

“Good girl.” He lifted his hand.

I licked my sore lips. “If you cut out my tongue, I’ll lose the only power I have. I’ll be useless to you.”

“Useless, Celestina?” He tilted his head to one side as he peered at me so intently, I shrank back from him as far as the rope would allow. “Even if we never figure out how to free your dragon form from Queen Frieda’s bindings, the clan will still be able to use you, or more precisely, use your body to create more moonlight dragons.”

“I’ll not consent to that.”

He curled his lip. “You are the last of a powerful line of dragons. If we have to strip you naked and tie you down, you will fulfill your role as the future of our kind.”

“You—you promised to protect me.” My voice broke. And I hated that. I didn’t want to show him any of my vulnerable pieces.

“I promised to protect the future of our clan from our enemies. I wasted twenty-three fucking years following you around, making sure you were safe. I didn’t do that for you. I did that for the clan. I did that to secure our future. You, my pretty dragon, dove out that window, rushed straight to our enemies, and handed your body over to the worst of their kind.”

“Soren is the best…of any kind.”

Trace dug his nails into his palms as he squeezed his hands into tight fists. “Don’t. Ever. Say. That. Bastard’s. Name. Again.”

“Or you’ll cut out my tongue?”

“I will. Silence is what I want—what I need from you right now.”

I pressed my lips together. I’d willingly returned to stop them from attacking the Fein. And still, Trace acted like they’d had to drag me back to the plateau.

He moved about the room, righting a bedside table that had toppled. Using his fire, he started a blaze in the fireplace. He then dug a blanket from a trunk and laid it across the foot of the narrow bed.

Once he’d done all of that, he stood in the middle of the room, naked and angry. He glanced over at me and then at the boarded-up window. His hands flew up to his head and tugged at his hair as if he was trying to pull it out. “This wasn’t what I wanted,” he muttered to himself. A tremor passed through his muscles. “As soon as we figure out how to get you to take your dragon form, you’ll change your mind about us. You’ll accept that this is where you belong. And you’ll regenerate that tongue I’m sure I’m going to be forced to slice from your mouth tonight.”

“And until that happens, you’re going to keep me tied up like this?”

“It’s unfortunate. But yes.” Trace crouched next to the bed. He reached out to me like he was going to touch my face. I flinched away. His hand closed into a fist that he rested on the mattress next to my knee. “This isn’t your fault, Celestina. I don’t want you to think I blame you. Not completely. You were raised with lies and handed over to those who wanted to exploit your powers. I can’t blame you for believing those who pretended to love you any more than I would blame a thirsty horse from drinking water from a contaminated pond.”

He didn’t blame me, and yet he still abused me? The bastard.

“I used to love watching the dragons in the valley. I used to dream that one day I would join with them, live with them. You showed me today that my believing I could be happy with any of you was the lie I’d been telling myself.”

“You weren’t raised to be who you should be. You don’t understand what it means to be a dragon.”

“What it means to be a dragon?” I scoffed. “You mean what it means to be like you? I will never want to be like that. You killed so many innocents tonight. Vampires and humans who had never done anything to you. Many who once believed dragons were a storyteller’s myth. And now those who survive will fear and hate you. They will come and hunt you.”

“None of those deaths would have had to happen if you hadn’t run from us.”

“No.” The word felt ripped from my tear-drenched throat. “No. I won’t take the blame for your actions when all I did was stand up for myself. I have a right to live my life on my terms.”

“A right? You are a gift to our clan from our ancestors. You have no rights. And if you refuse to accept the blame for your misguided actions, that’s fine. But I guarantee that the vampires knew that taking you from our land, from this fucking room was an act of war. If they didn’t want fire to rain down on their cities, they should have kept their asses out of clan business.”

“No. Those who came to rescue me are my family. And families stand up for each other. The clan should have done better, made a different choice.” I swallowed down the sob that was threatening to choke me. “By choosing wholesale violence, you’ve become the monster you set out to slay.”

Amaya

I managed to kick the door one last time before my father pulled me away from Trace’s weaving shop. All that accomplished, though, was a bruised big toe. I still had Cullen’s book clutched to my chest. My father was scolding me for rushing into enemy territory instead of waiting for the clan to move in as a unified front.

I wanted to tell him about my interaction with Prince Cullen and how we’d helped each other. But I could feel the aggression beating off him like heat from a fire and shut my mouth. He’d been part of the force that had attacked the capital city. And even though he was older, he’d trained me. I knew how skilled a fighter his dragon could be. If I told him that I’d gone to the palace, that I’d befriended the vampires, even danced with one of them at a ball, he’d likely handle me just as roughly as Trace was handling Celestina.

“I brought Celestina home without anyone having to force her,” I pointed out, not letting the man who’d raised me intimidate me. “You’re welcome.”

I spun out of his hold and ducked down a side road.

“Where are you heading now?” Drix sounded exasperated.

“To Ivy and Gregory’s,” I called over my shoulder. “I found a history book that Gregory will want.”

That was likely the only answer I could give him that wouldn’t get me dragged back to the manor house by my ear. “Come straight home after you’re done there!” he called. I raised my hand to let him know I’d heard him.

I made it halfway to Ivy and Gregory’s cottage when I stopped in the middle of the path. I stared at the book in my hand.

I was so not a reader. I’d told Cullen that, and yet he’d still gifted me this book. Gregory would know what to do with it.

Although it had been written by a midnight dragon and it had instructed me on how to shift clothes onto my body and pull objects to me when moving from one form to another, it wasn’t something I should keep.

Gregory would love the history that I’d scanned in the book’s pages. He’d know what to do with the knowledge packed in every sentence. This was a great treasure for the clan. I really should take it straight to him.

I opened the book to a random page and tenderly ran my hand over the slightly raised letters. Prince Cullen had translated the book from Draco Falco. He’d written these words with his own hand. I felt a push of warmth through the pathway that still existed between us.

“Missing me already?” The teasing words flowed like a gentle summer rain into my mind.

“Missing you? That’s insulting.” I couldn’t stop myself from answering when I knew I should try harder to block him.

I could feel his pleasure fill my thoughts like the tickle of bubbles against my skin.

“How is Celestina faring?” He had to go and ask.

I slammed the connection between us closed before he could feel my distress about what Trace was possibly doing to Celestina right now. I hadn’t given up on helping her. But I needed to figure out how to get her into a better situation without getting myself locked away in my room for another several weeks.

What I really needed to do was figure out how to free Celestina’s bound up dragon. If she had the ability to fight back, she wouldn’t be so helpless around the rest of us. We were all a rather feral bunch of creatures. But despite our wild natures, Trace had stepped well over the line with that possessive shit he was pulling with Celestina.

I looked at Cullen’s book again. I hadn’t had a chance to read the entire thing. And I wanted to. Not because reading the book would make me feel closer to Cullen and his stupid handsome face.

Instead of making my way to Gregory’s cottage, I changed course and stomped toward the manor house. It didn’t take long to get to my favorite spot in the library.

Before opening the book, I sat in silence for a few minutes, hoping I could feel the old lady’s presence. Hoping she’d have a few words of wisdom for me.

The silence stretched on unbroken. The library felt cold and empty.

She must have stuck to her word and moved on.

With a sigh, I finally opened the book and proceeded to read every translated word Cullen had written down. The first chapter discussed the differences between male and female dragons and their relationships with their mothers. The passage reminded me how strong the maternal figures were in our society. I sat back and smiled. I suddenly knew exactly what I needed to do to rescue Celestina from Trace without starting another war.

Celestina

I needed to pee.

I didn’t know how long I’d been left alone and tethered to this bed. With the window boarded closed, I couldn’t see the sun to mark the passage of time. The fire behind the grate had long burned through its fuel.

I’d slept uncomfortably and fitfully on the bed. Alone. Thankfully, alone. My hands throbbed like a heartbeat from the tight rope. My arms ached from not being able to move them into a comfortable position. And I shivered from the cold since I couldn’t use my hands to put the blanket over me.

Had he laid the warm blanket on the foot of the bed to torment me?

Somehow, I doubted it. It felt as if he hadn’t thought through any of his angry actions.

I’d tried calling for him to come help me, to untie me, to let me go pee.

Trace either couldn’t hear me, or he refused to come.

No matter how many times I tried to conjure my magic throughout the night and that morning, it refused to answer me, refused to slip through Queen Frieda’s binding spell to free my hands from the ropes.

“Please!” I begged, becoming desperate. I hoped Trace wouldn’t lose his patience and cut out my tongue. “Please!” I really didn’t want to empty my bladder on the bed.

The door swung open, allowing in a stinging shaft of bright light. I turned my head away from the door.

“I have to pee,” I rasped. “Please, don’t punish me for—”

“We’re not here to punish you.” That wasn’t Trace’s furious voice.

“Amaya?”

“I brought some friends to help clean you up and get you fed.”

“I have to pee.”

“We’ll get you taken care of.” I recognized that voice, too.

“Juniper?”

“That’s me, dear.” Warm hands deftly untied the knots holding my wrists hostage. “I have a salve that will help with those rope burns and slow the bleeding.” I hadn’t even noticed that my wrists were oozing blood.

“Let’s get her to the bathroom first,” a third woman said. By that time my eyes had adjusted to the light streaming into the room from the open door. This woman had the same brown hair and crystal blue eyes as the male who’d tethered me to this bed.

“You’re Trace’s mother.” I couldn’t remember her name, or even recall if I’d ever been told it. “The artist.”

“Yes, dear. I’m Gwen.” She hooked her hands under my arms and gently helped me to my feet. “The washroom is this way.”

After I’d taken care of business and washed my face and raw wrists, I stepped out of the washroom to find Gwen standing outside the door waiting for me.

“Look at you!” Gwen had a warm smile that held no expectations. “You look so different from when you were a hatchling. Especially, your eyes. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a pair of mismatched eyes. They’re so pretty. You’ll have to let me paint you.”

I briefly considered using my powers of compulsion to force her to help me escape. But where was the need? The three had already promised to help. And if I were to escape, Trace would only convince the clan to attack the Fein again.

I couldn’t allow that to happen, which meant I had to stay and make the best of this horrible situation.

“You don’t have to tie me to the bed or anywhere else again,” I said when Gwen returned me to the bedroom. I couldn’t manage to look any of them in the eye. I’d messed up. If I hadn’t run away, none of those lives in Fein would have been lost. Running hadn’t solved anything. Here I was, back in the same room where I’d started. Only now, everyone hated me. “I don’t plan to leave here. Ever.”

“Oh, Little Moonglow, we’re not here to abuse you,” Juniper said, using the nickname Amaya had been using for me. “Amaya explained how you willingly came back to us. We’re here to make sure no one harms you.”

Her gentle voice nearly broke me. The memory of the fires and deaths in Sukoon—that had looked so similar to the vision the old seer had forced on me—flashed in my mind. I wanted to curl into a ball and hide. At least my friends hadn’t died. “I am sorry for the trouble I caused.”

Gwen sighed. “Celestina, dear. I’m not excusing my son’s abhorrent behavior toward you.” She gestured to my mangled wrists that Juniper had started dabbing a cooling salve onto. “But I would like to explain it. When you were taken as a baby, Trace lost his entire family. His father, two older brothers and, his eldest sister died. I retreated into my painting. His younger sister mated with a family friend, choosing to start a new life with him. And his younger brother turned to a life of living outside of clan laws.

“Trace hadn’t even begun to process his grief for his lost family when he volunteered to go after you. At first, he’d thought he’d be able to steal you back from Queen Frieda. Later, he volunteered to watch over you, to do everything in his power to keep you safe. You were the hope for our future, so he didn’t see this as a great sacrifice. But it was a sacrifice. More than twenty years living away from the clan. Twenty years denying himself the chance of finding a mate who would love him. Over time, the clan leaders began to recognize Trace’s sacrifice. No mate. His shop shuttered. His life on hold indefinitely. And while he trained young dragons about life outside the plateau, he’d had very little interaction with his own kind. It was rare that he’d return to the plateau. And when he did come, he never could stay long.

“It was the clan council, worried he’d give up watching over you, that started to make promises. They’re the ones who put in his head that you would be his once we rescued you. At first, he’d balked at this idea. You were just a warmling at the time. Too young to even be considered for mating. But as the years wore on, in his loneliness, he started to build up this ideal life with you. He’d watched you for so long, I believe he began to think he knew you. Perhaps even thought he loved you.”

“And he grew to believe I loved him as well?” I guessed.

Gwen nodded sadly. “He may have.”

“You have to understand how the clan put all our hopes into the idea of getting you back,” Juniper added as she finished rubbing the salve on my wounded wrists. “Whenever a problem arose on the plateau, the council would promise that returning the moonlight dragon to us would solve it.”

“You were the perfect counterpart to my imperfection,” Amaya grumbled.

Juniper patted her adopted daughter’s hand. “It isn’t that you were imperfect, dear. It was that you were here. Celestina was the perfect answer to our troubles because she wasn’t here. We couldn’t see what she could do. We couldn’t see that she has flaws just like the rest of us.” Juniper met my eyes. “Because we didn’t know you, Celestina, you became the savior that could lead the clan in restoring the dragon’s fifth kingdom. More legend than real.”

“And the perfect mate to bring more moonlight dragons into the world?” I added as the thought twisted in my belly.

“The promise of a fertile future,” Juniper said with a frown. “Hearing that must make us sound like monsters.”

“I understand why you’d feel that way toward me. And I understand Trace’s mistaken infatuation with the idea of what I represent to the clan. What I can’t understand is using those feelings to justify taking innocent lives.”

Gwen and Juniper pressed their lips tightly together. Amaya sighed. “You upset the entire clan when you fled in the night like that. Many jumped to the conclusion that the vampires stole you from us. No dragon would willingly give herself over to our enemy, especially not a dragon who’d once been a vampire’s slave.”

“It wasn’t like that with Soren, he never—” I tried to argue.

“The truth doesn’t matter. Not in this case,” Amaya cut in. “What matters is the story. You were a slave to a vampire. I freed you. The vampires steal you back in the middle of the night. War is going to follow. No other course of action makes sense. That’s why I followed you. And I truly thought we had more time to get you back to the plateau.”

“I wasn’t going to return.” My heart wept knowing I’d never see Soren again, never feel his hands on my body. “My life is with Soren. I’d hoped to stay with him forever.”

“Then, in the eyes of the council, the attack was justified,” Juniper announced.

I pressed my fingers to my eyes. “I learned my lesson. I won’t run. For the sake of the innocent living in Fein, my life is here now. And I’d rather not live it as a captive.”

Amaya pulled my hands from my face. “Stop being so dramatic, Moonglow. Trace had his tantrum. And we’re here to fix you up.” She dumped a pile of clothes on the bed. “I brought you warm sweaters, leggings, and skirts. Also, there are socks and underwear.”

“And boots,” Gwen added, holding out a pair of boots that looked to be just about the right size. “I sized them to Amaya’s feet. If they don’t fit, we can get you a different pair.” The older woman set them on the floor and then cupped my hands in hers. “You don’t have to fret about your life here, Celestina. I’m so pleased to welcome you into our family. I look forward to having another daughter to pamper.” She smiled at me, but it was a sad sort of smile, one laced with years of sorrow.

I wanted to accept Gwen’s kindness, but I slipped my hands from hers, clasping them tightly together behind my back. “After how Trace acted, I don’t think I could ever accept him as a mate.”

Her pretty brown eyebrows lowered as she frowned. “I can understand that. And I’ll stand up for you in front of the council to make sure no one tries to force the two of you together. It isn’t fair to my son or to you. But whether you choose him or not, I would like to call you my daughter…if you’ll allow it.”

When she put it that way, how could I not? “Thank you.” My voice sounded husky.

Juniper leaned forward and unclasped my hands so she could wrap my wrists in gauze. After she’d finished, I dressed in a blue sweater and black leggings. I balled up the silver dress. It was ripped, stained with mud, and bloodied. And useless.

Still, I tucked it under the bed, not ready to throw it away, not ready to discard all reminders of my life with Soren. Even if keeping the ruined dress would hurt like poking at a bruise so it would never heal, I couldn’t let it go.

“Sit.” Juniper’s gaze skated over where I’d shoved the dress before she patted the bed. “Let me get to work on your hair.”

“I should cut it,” I muttered after Juniper struggled for close to a half hour with the mess of knots tangling my long hair. “It would be simpler to care for it if it were shorter. Life on the plateau was going to be nothing like the court life I’d been raised to live.”

“I have scissors back at my cottage,” Gwen offered.

With that, we all headed downstairs and into the kitchen. Trace was standing at the stove cooking eggs. When he heard us enter, he turned around. His gaze met mine, and he froze.

“You set her loose.” His hands tightened into fists.

“Son, we need to talk about how you treat the females of our kind,” Gwen said.

Trace swallowed hard and then nodded. His gaze remained fixed on me. “How is your head this morning?” He pointed to his own head.

“It hurts.” I saw no reason to lie.

“Your head is hurting? Why didn’t you tell me? I have a powder.” Juniper started digging around in the satchel she had slung over her shoulder. She found the powder and measured a small amount into my hand. “Swallow this. It’ll help diminish the pain.”

“What happened to make it hurt?” Amaya asked as she put herself between me and Trace.

“It hit the wall,” I said after swallowing the bitter powder.

“She was struggling and—” Trace started to explain. Gwen cleared her throat, and he stopped. “How I acted…it was a mistake. I am sorry.”

“That’s a good start,” Gwen said before I could even think of how to respond to that. A simple apology wasn’t going to excuse the way he’d treated me yesterday. Or make me forget how he’d threatened to cut out my tongue. He would have done it, too, if I’d kept fighting him.

Gwen put her arm around my shoulder. “Celestina is going to stay with me until she decides otherwise.”

Trace moved swiftly to block the door that led out to the back garden that Gwen had steered me toward. “But I need her close so I can guard her.”

Gwen reached up and put a hand on her son’s cheek. “Dear, I know this must be hard for you after so many years. You were so young when you left. Barely a man. But it’s time for you to come home now. Come home, Trace. Be home. Your duty to protect Celestina is done. It’s time for you to learn how to make a life for yourself in the village. A life you choose.”

Trace lowered his head and stepped out of the way. As the four of us left his shop, I heard him mutter to himself, “I’m not sure I know how to stop watching over our moonlight dragon.”

“Sounds like a him problem to me,” Amaya grumbled as she walked beside me. “You’re going to love Gwen’s cottage. There’s a colorful mural on every wall.”

“And on the ceilings,” Juniper added, with a chuckle. “My favorite is the ceiling in the kitchen with the flying sheep and vegetables.”

“Don’t forget the floors,” Gwen said. “Be careful, though. The mural on the floor in the guest bathroom is still wet.”

Her small cottage was as lovely as they had all promised with its sky-blue plaster walls and thatch roof. And there were paintings everywhere. Including several that were in progress sitting on easels in a sunroom at the back of the cottage that Gwen obviously used as a studio. I stood in front of one of the unfinished paintings. It was a portrait of Amaya and me as we stood at the edge of the plateau as the sun set in the west. I tilted my head to one side. Something about the painting was off.

“Hmm,” Amaya said as she came over to gaze at the painting with me. “Your eye color is wrong. Gwen’s usually better at noticing small details like that.”

“Oh…right. That’s what’s wrong.”

“Gwen! Moonglow’s eyes are brown and green, not indigo,” Amaya called out to my host who’d left the sunroom to show Juniper the new mural-in-progress in the guest bathroom.

Gwen poked her head into the sunroom and smiled at us. “I know that. But when I was painting Celestina standing there, my mind kept insisting I use that particular shade of indigo. It was the only color that felt right.” She frowned as she studied me. “I’ll fix it in the morning. Your eyes are lovely and unique, dear. Don’t know why I didn’t paint them correctly the first time.”

Amaya squinted at me in much the same way Gwen had. “I like how your eyes are mismatched like that. Keeps you from looking too perfect.”

“Thanks a lot,” I grumbled. But I didn’t feel upset by her insult. Instead, I laughed. And was surprised when Amaya laughed along with me.

“Come on, Moonglow. Let me show you the mural on Gwen’s bedroom ceiling. It’s absolutely scandalous!”

“When the two of you are done looking around,” Gwen said as she headed toward the cottage’s tidy kitchen, “join us for breakfast. I have fish pasties and crumb cakes baking in the oven.”

My chest still ached from missing Soren and my friends in Fein. They were my hoard, my treasures, that I wasn’t sure how I’d be able to live without. But for the first time since arriving at the plateau, I felt like I might be able to make a home here.