Page 16

Chapter 15

Aruan

L eading Elsie by the hand, I pull her into Kian’s quarters.

My brother frowns. His private rooms are his sanctuary, and he doesn’t appreciate visitors or interruptions.

He sets aside the small chisel he’s been using to cut a priceless moon-colored opal and brushes away the residue powder with an annoyed flick of his hand.

“Aruan.” His smile is flat. “What a pleasant disruption.”

“Cut the sarcasm, Kian.” I bring Elsie to stand next to me. “As much as it pains me, I need your opinion.”

He doesn’t have to ask about what. He shifts his expressionless gaze to Elsie. “What did she do? I got the impression that the idea of me sifting through your mate’s thoughts didn’t appeal to you.”

“It doesn’t.” The idea alone sets my teeth on edge. “Do it anyway.”

“Hey,” Elsie says, more than a little irked. “It’s my mind.” She pulls her hand from mine. “Don’t I get a say?”

My brother arranges his arms on the armrests of his chair with an eloquent motion. “What am I to be looking for, Aruan?”

“Apparently not,” Elsie mumbles, rolling her eyes.

Turning her to me, I cup her delicate face between my palms. My words are soft, soothing. “Don’t you want to understand what just happened?”

“Is it important?” she asks, not seeming fazed in the least.

I stare at my mate in disbelief. There’s only one reason why that dragon would be at the lake. It must have a nest there with eggs. Flying dragons, especially ones that lay leathery, soft-shelled white eggs, are notoriously aggressive, and even more so when they have eggs to protect. Yet the beast licked Elsie’s hand as if to caress her, and then it followed her like a trained spiked dragon pet.

“Yes,” I say with finality. “It concerns your safety.”

“Enough of the nest scraping.” Kian examines us as if we were interesting rocks in his precious stone collection. “Get to the point, and tell me what’s going on.”

Elsie’s brows snap together. “Nest scraping?”

“It’s a metaphor for courting, meaning that mates are behaving in a loving and affectionate way.” I shoot Kian a cutting look. “When a male dragon excavates a pseudo nest for a potential mate to prove his ability to provide for her, it’s called nest scraping.”

Kian’s lips pull into a rare grin. “Which means that my brother here is going to be scraping for real very soon, and I’m going to enjoy every minute of watching him grovel.”

I return his gesture with an unfriendly smile of my own. “Your turn will come.”

The pleasure he was taking from the prospect of seeing me grovel is wiped off his face. At some point, all males grovel for our mates, especially when our mates’ bellies grow big with our babies. There are no lengths an Alit male won’t go to to please his female. And to Kian, there’s no bigger punishment than being shackled to a lifelong companion. Whereas most Alit are proud to claim their mates, Kian would rather grow old alone, free of any emotional burdens.

Adopting his usual stoic mask, he says, “Well, ask me the question you’ve come here for or go do your nest scraping elsewhere. I have work to do.”

Ignoring his antagonism because this is important to me, I quickly relay what happened at the lake.

When I come to the end of my story, Kian fixes unblinking eyes on Elsie.

“You weren’t scared,” he says, stating that as a fact instead of a question.

“Not for myself,” she says. “Only for Betty when I thought Aruan might vaporize her.”

“What do you think?” I ask my brother. “Why didn’t the dragon devour her like a juicy piece of meat?” I hesitate before uttering the question that’s at the forefront of my mind, something inside me stirring with hopeful excitement as well as caution. “Could this be Elsie’s power?”

“What?” Elsie gapes at me. “I don’t have a power. I’m not an Alit.”

Another rare display of emotion crosses Kian’s features, and the sympathy I see there doesn’t set me at ease. He thinks I’m right, that Elsie has a mental hold over these powerful predators. And he knows if that’s the case, I’ll never sleep easily again.

Commanding dragons would be an immensely strong power. A useful power. A dangerous power. Those beasts are unpredictable at best.

“What do you pick up?” I ask, meaning in Elsie’s mind.

Kian turns his gaze toward a water dragon that has just landed on the windowsill. The insect flutters its lacey wings, performing a dainty dance before finding a comfortable position in which to settle.

“I want you to try something, Elsie,” Kian says. “Look at that water dragon and will it to come to you.”

Does Kian truly think Elsie’s power extends beyond the predators? Could her power be a mental command of all non-Alit living forms? Taming a dragon is one thing—a very difficult thing, I admit—but it has a mass of mind matter to tap into. An insect is a lot more delicate. Wielding power over it will be intricately complicated.

Elsie seems both incredulous and intrigued. “Are you serious?”

“Try,” I urge. “Let’s see what happens.”

She blows a puff of air through her lips, but she’s curious enough to fix her attention on the water dragon.

She holds out her hand. The insect lifts its wings, crisscrossing them like the sharpening of blades, and takes off into the air. It flies to the ceiling where it flits for a few beats, and then it descends swiftly and lands neatly on Elsie’s palm.

For the first time in my life, I’m at a loss for words. Kian seems to suffer from the same speechless condition. Elsie is the only one who’s unperturbed.

She utters a delightful laugh. “Aww, how sweet.”

And then her laugh dies as she directs round, startled eyes at me.

The water dragon takes off again. Elsie stands frozen with her arm outstretched. Kian and I stare at her as the knowledge settles in the silence that follows.

Elsie never lost her power.

It’s always been there—dormant, waiting.

And by dragon, what a power it is.

The shock on her face can easily be mistaken for devastation. Instead of being glad that her power wasn’t destroyed when she was sent to Earth, she’s dealing with a truth she doesn’t want to admit, a truth she’s bitterly denied.

She’s one of us.

There’s no arguing that fact anymore.

This is her home.

This is where she belongs.

Her manner turns stilted. Like a sleepwalker, she drops her arm at her side.

The reason for Kian’s sympathy becomes clear. He wasn’t pitying me, knowing that I’d never know peace again as long as my mate commands dragons. He was pitying Elsie, his mind-reading power having warned him of how the truth would affect her.

“I—” She wets her lips with the tip of her tongue. “It’s not what you think.”

“The pixie dragon that knocked that poisoned drink from Aruan’s hand…” Kian starts in an uncharacteristically gentle way. “It wasn’t an accident.”

“It was protecting you,” I say in wonder. “It knew .”

She shakes her head hard enough to bring on a dizzy spell. “You don’t know that.”

Kian pushes to his feet and makes his way to the door. “Come with me.”

I take Elsie’s hand, offering her comfort.

This is hard for both of us, albeit for different reasons.

She doesn’t object when I lead her into the hallway. We follow Kian to the banquet hall, where spiked pet dragons that hunt for scraps of food are always present.

“Call them to you,” Kian says, a spark of excitement breaking through the boredom normally reflected in his eyes.

She doesn’t ask what or who. It only takes a turn of Elsie’s head before the spiked dragons scurry out from under the tables and clack their way over the flagstones to line up in front of her.

The cooking and cleaning staff, who’ve come out of the kitchen to see what all the commotion is about, stare at the scene with transfixed faces. Unless there’s food, the pets shy away from us. They’re used to being shooed away by the brooms of the cleaners who are irritated with them for always getting under their feet.

Turning away from the curious and openly petrified stares, Elsie walks to the exit as stiffly as a wooden plank. The spiked dragons follow in a long queue behind her. Now that her power has been unleashed, it appears impossible to rein in.

Whispers break out among the servants. There’s no point in admonishing them. The rumors will spread. They can’t be contained.

Kian stares after Elsie as she crosses the threshold. We exchange a look before I go after her.

Spiked dragons pour from every crevice of the palace, the little scavengers forming a dark river down the hallway as they’re drawn to my mate. Pixie dragons burst through the archways and dive through the air. There are so many of them that their flapping wings stir a breeze inside the walls. One nearly gets tangled in my hair.

“Elsie.” I grip her shoulders and make her face me. “Let it go. That’s enough.”

She blinks once, twice, and sags beneath my palms. The animals linger, but their hordes don’t descend on us any longer.

The royals have peeled out of rooms and courtyards to gawk at the spectacle with a mixture of shocked awe and fright. Their urgent whispers are full of concern and more than a hint of terror.

When I take Elsie’s hand and quickly lead her to my quarters, away from the fearful scrutiny, the winged and four-legged pets follow.

I leave the creatures outside and seal us in my room.

For a moment, we simply stand there facing each other. Words are redundant. She needs time to come to terms with her discovery.

Dragons, so do I.

“Elsie.” I will her to look at me, to let me soothe the unease that has crawled into the hollowness that has settled in her chest. “You’ll learn to control it, my sweet.”

It’s a futile attempt at easing her disappointment.

She slides a look of contempt my way. She knows what I feel. My elation and pride at the strength of my mate’s power must be like a blade of betrayal through her stomach.

Her words are bitter. “Everything you told me is true. I’m not Elsie Barnikoff, am I?”

I soften my tone to make up for the blow I’m about to deal. “You are Elsie. But you were Laliss first.”

Just saying it brings back the old, incurable pain of losing her. I learned to live with it. It became a part of my very essence. But now my joy is my mate’s pain. She’ll grow used to it, like I did. In time, she’ll embrace it, and then it will be our shared joy in the way it’s meant to be for mates.

She lifts a wary, absent gaze to me. “I can feel it—the power.”

I nod my understanding, helplessness engulfing me for my inability to take away her suffering. “It’ll get better.”

Her eyes turn hard, the blue-green glittering like brilliant river stones. “Who did this to me, Aruan? Who destroyed my life?”

“It’s not destroyed,” I say, taking her hand, although I understand why she’d feel that way.

“Who?” she asks, watching me with that steadfast, unforgiving gaze.

“My mother,” I admit with no small amount of anger. “And it’s time to find out why.”