Page 15 of Divine Fate (Cursed Legacies #4)

14

MAVEN

Everett carries me down the cold corridor while verbally tearing me a new asshole for sneaking out on him and being so reckless. It's such a severe degree of scolding that I'm actually starting to feel almost chastened until a magical alarm begins to wail somewhere outside the castle.

Everett halts. “Shit.”

That must mean this stronghold is under attack. I’m already itching to grab the etherium knife from its concealed pocket at my side to make sure no one comes close to hurting my elemental.

“Put me down. If there's a fight, I can?—”

“If you think I'm letting you anywhere near a fight after the shit you just pulled, you're more psychotic than Silas,” he snaps. “You’re staying in my apartment until this attack blows over.”

I want to remind him that he has approximately zero control over my autonomy and I'll fight whenever I fucking feel like it.

But for once, I don't feel like it, because Silas took a lot of my blood.

I’ve been trying to hide how weak and woozy I am, but I’d honestly be screwed if I entered combat in this state. Between the lightheadedness, my untrained holy magic, and the fact that I don't want anyone else to know I’m back yet…

“Fine,” I huff.

Everett is still seething under his breath about my actions until we reach his professor’s apartment. As soon as I'm safely inside the office, he sets me on my feet, kisses me deeply, and then spins me to face opposite him before delivering a firm smack to my ass.

My mouth pops open at the unexpected impact. I can't tell if I liked it or if I should pin him to the floor until he apologizes.

Before I can decide, my livid, scarred elemental snaps, “If you step a single fucking toe outside this apartment's protective wards while I'm gone, I swear I will hunt you down, freeze you up to your neck, and lock you away to keep you from getting yourself killed— again .”

At that, he slams the office door behind him on the way to deal with whatever shit is going on.

I can’t help the grin that spreads over my face.

Gods, my snow angel is sexy when he's so worked up.

I still hear the muffled alarms as I fight through waves of dizziness to search the apartment. Luckily, some standard bandages and ointment are stashed in one of Everett’s semi-frozen desk drawers next to other random odds and ends.

I'm just finishing bandaging the last bite mark near my clavicle when I hear the roar. It's somewhere just outside the castle and completely unmistakable. I heard that very same beast’s distinctive, spine-tingling roar on my first day at Everbound.

Baelfire.

No wonder the alarms are going off. My dragon really did leave the north. Why did he fly here, though? Was he running from more hunters, or…

I touch the grooves his teeth left on my neck once again as my pulse starts to pound. Feral or not, my intuition is screaming that my mate knows I'm back.

He came here for me.

But I'm in no shape to deal with a massive, flying, fire-breathing beast. Especially because I've heard the stories about shifters going feral and accidentally slaughtering their mates out of some twisted form of mindlessly violent, animalistic obsession.

If I could just get him to shift back to his human form?—

Before I can even think about the best way of forcing him to shift back, the stone castle shudders slightly around me. The ceiling creaks as dust falls in small plumes from above me. This time, when the dragon roars, it’s deafening…and directly above Everett’s apartment.

Fuck.

Claws scrape against stone. My attention snaps to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the bedroom just in time to see a golden, slitted draconic eye appear. My pulse misfires when the dragon spots me, its pupil dilating.

But I can sense that this isn’t Baelfire looking at me. This is a feral animal that’s found its prey.

Another roar shakes this apartment as a fresh slew of bloodless dizziness makes me sway on my feet. Maybe the protective wards will be enough to keep this glorious beast from?—

The dragon swivels its head and opens its mouth, baring long, razor-sharp teeth as a glow lights up below the scales of its throat. I barely have time to dive toward the office’s front door before dragon fire blasts through the glass in the bedroom like molten royal blue death. Stone explodes, and wards shatter behind me as I throw open the office door. I take off down the corridor, chased by blazing heat and the ferocious snarl of my feral mate.

Magical sirens and shouts echo into this hall from elsewhere in the castle. A group of armed Reformists rounds the corner up ahead of me, led by Everett, who shouts in alarm when he sees me.

My ears are still ringing from the last roar as this hallway trembles under the weight of the beast crawling atop it. I hear the deafening boom of more castle collapsing as the dragon finally breaks into this stronghold, falling into the hallway behind me and sending me stumbling. Stone dust and soot cloud the air as I race toward the troop of terrified Reformists.

Before I can tell them to get down or run, I slam into a scaly, clawed, reptilian hand that knocks the oxygen from my lungs. I’m being dragged backward. Everett’s cry of horror is drowned out by another eardrum-bursting draconic roar just before my entire world flips upside down.

I’m suddenly caged tightly inside the dragon's warm, clawed hand. The moment I'm in its clutches, Baelfire's dragon snarls and launches away from Everbound Castle, propelling us into the sky with brutal beats of its massive, magnificent wings.

My stomach is left behind, along with an echo of Everett screaming my name.

Shit, shit, shit, shit ? —

I can barely move in this tight, scaly grip as the dragon picks up speed, climbing higher into the freezing night sky at a breathtaking rate before flattening its wings into a steep, downward glide. Cold wind bites through my skin, sending my blood-lacking, weakened body into further shock until my vision threatens to cave.

But I can’t lose consciousness now. There’s no way I’m leaving my survival odds up to this feral beast, which is already practically crushing me in its hand. I can barely see through the scales encompassing me, but I realize it’s dipping low over the top of Everbound Forest, close enough that its back legs skim the tops of dead trees.

If I die this way, I’ll find a way back to Paradise to haunt you assholes, I mentally warn the gods before struggling to get the etherium knife out of my pocket. Gripping it tightly, I jam it between two scales of the dragon’s hand.

Hot blood gushes from the wound when I rip the knife away. A snarl of pain rips through the night air, but it does what I want.

It lets go of me.

I immediately crash through treetops that barely help break the fall, and then the air is knocked out of me again when I land at exactly the wrong angle.

Crack.

Shit.

Covering my mouth, I try to muffle the sound that tries to escape as angry warmth flares down my left arm. If I had to take a wild guess, that was my humerus snapping, and it fucking hurts .

Weakness and unconsciousness pool at the edges of my vision as I struggle to breathe in despite the brutal cold burning my throat. Snow is clustered all around me in this dark, foreboding forest, but after a long, grueling moment, I finally manage to sit up and use my good arm to pack some of the snow around my broken bone to help numb the pain and slow the swelling.

The dragon roars somewhere above the forest, and then I go still when I hear trees breaking and a loud thump in the distance. The shrieks of harpies echo through the woods before cutting off with a flash of blue fire that I can just barely make out from here.

But the universe must be showing me mercy, because I’m downwind from Baelfire’s dragon and its heightened sense of smell and hearing.

As silently as I can, I cradle my broken arm against my chest, grab my knife from where it fell, and shuffle backward until I’m supported by the trunk of a twisted, barren tree. I listen carefully for other threats here besides the beast hunting me. Tuning out the pain in my arm and the weakness weighing down my limbs, I try to devise a plan.

But I can’t get around the hope welling in my chest. My dragon knew where to find me. It knew to come to Everbound.

It wouldn’t know any of that if it didn’t have access to Baelfire’s memories, right?

He has to still be in there.

I need to find a way to get through to Baelfire and pull him to the surface. I refuse to believe this beast has replaced him completely. When I defended myself against Kenzie, my holy magic forced her to shift. Could I do that with him?

Maybe. If I don’t get roasted first.

And if my body doesn’t shut down from the cold.

And if some other monster in these woods doesn’t chow down on me.

And if?—

The healthy stream of pessimism in my head is interrupted by the low croak of a raven. I realize several have gathered around me in the dimness of these frigid woods lit only by a quarter-waned moon. The largest of them hops up to perch directly on the shoulder of my unbroken arm.

I’m about to shoo the chicken of death away, irked that these things have been following me. Then I pause, recalling something I read while studying fae scrolls in the Nether years ago, before a particularly brutal examination meant to prepare me to enter the mortal realm one day.

Of all fowls of the mortal sky, most fateful are ravens, those dark heralds of prophecy. Ill omens they are, carrying upon their midnight wings the souls of those to be harvested by she who reaps.

She who reaps.

Syntyche.

If any of that was true, and if I inherited abilities, then these birds are following me for a reason. Holding my breath for one moment, I listen to the cracking and groaning of trees in the distance as the giant golden dragon prowls through the woods in the wrong direction. It hisses and rumbles, clicking now and then in a strange reptilian way.

I whisper to the big raven on my shoulder, low enough that the dragon won’t catch it. “Lead my elemental to me.”

The raven immediately takes flight, winging toward the castle.

If Everett shows up, I’ll know I’m on to something with my demigoddess abilities. Until then, it’s just me and my shifter in these haunting woods surrounded by deadly dangers.

Normally, that would make for a fantastic date, but the throbbing in my head and arm remind me that he’s feral and a hundred percent capable of killing me right now. When a roar cuts through the woods again, I take advantage of the sound and rise slowly, slinking from tree to tree as I baby my broken arm.

I trained for years to have the light-footed stealth of a seasoned assassin, but I’m struggling. Sweat beads on my brow, and tuning out my broken bone is getting difficult. Shivers wrack my body as my hands and feet burn from the cold.

And then the wind changes, carrying my scent in exactly the wrong direction. Baelfire’s dragon roars immediately, and I hear trees breaking as it charges after me.

“Fuck you, too, Pheli,” I mutter at the god of the wind.

Thunder rumbles in the wintry night sky. I can only assume it’s laughter, so I flip it off.

Turning to face the oncoming beast, I brace myself. The knife in my good hand elongates into scythe form just as the dragon crashes through the last cluster of twisted trees, all gleaming scales and golden magnificence.

The dragon’s snarl is muffled thanks to the dead manticore clamped between its jaws. Flinging the limp creature aside, the dragon stalks forward slowly, golden eyes trained on me. Smoke rises from its nostrils, its tail slithers from side to side, and its teeth are bared in warning.

“Such a deadly beast. I’ve missed my dragon,” I tell it.

And I mean it. I’ll confess to loving Baelfire and his dragon—but not this feral version of it. This isn’t him. It isn’t even reacting to my words as its mad, slitted gaze follows my every move.

When I take one step back, the beast growls and snorts a burst of royal blue fire into the air in warning.

Everything is swaying around me, but I stare up at the dragon. “I want Baelfire.”

It makes that strange clicking sound in its throat again, its wings unfolding as if to look more intimidating as it stalks me.

“I know he’s still in there.”

It’s a bluff. I don’t know for sure—not when this monster is hunting me like I’m its next dinner, and there isn’t even the tiniest spark of understanding in its eyes. But if Baelfire still exists anywhere in that draconic head, I’ll find a way to get through to him. I need him to fight for me the way I’m fighting for him.

“Baelfire,” I whisper. “I need my mate.”

There’s nothing. The dragon’s head lowers as it gets closer, its tail curling around to trap me. The second it gets close, I swing my scythe with my good arm and quickly find that the etherium easily cuts through the dragon’s scales.

That tiny nick angers the beast. Its long neck and head snakes forward until it roars right in my face, so loud and brutal that my vision wavers and my ears ring in protest.

Ugh. Dragon breath is a real thing, and it’s fucking horrible. Like slow-roasted rotting decay, smoke, and sulfur.

But its show of inhuman, animalistic anger pisses me off, bringing fury to the surface so quickly I almost choke on it. If this beast really took over completely and destroyed anything left of my mate?—

No.

No.

Standing my ground, I meet the dragon’s ferocious display with my own, shouting at full volume with all the desperate anger boiling inside my scarred chest.

“Give him back!”

The beast snarls and tries to snap at me, but I move quicker, slashing my scythe across its snout. It roars furiously, tail whipping harshly—and effectively tripping me.

I slam into the cold, hard ground, the scythe falling out of my hands. More pain ricochets up my broken arm beneath me, making me cry out. The dragon snarls as the glow of fire rises beneath the scales of its long throat, preparing to turn me into a charred skeleton.

On blind instinct, I reach out with my good arm. Adrenaline and desperation mix in my blood as I touch the scaly tail beside me, and then a surge of blazing power courses through me. It’s the same sensation I experienced with Kenzie, uncontrollable and fierce as strange magic flows freely from my fingertips.

The fire dies in the dragon’s throat. It roars in pain instead, spasming from just my touch before falling to the ground to writhe. Unfortunately, all the thrashing sends its tail flicking into me one last time, knocking me back into a snowdrift.

I’m buried momentarily in sheer cold, unable to breathe as exhaustion from whatever the fuck I just did with holy magic kicks in. Finally, I work my way partially out of the snow drift to cough and grimace in pain, brushing snow out of my face with my good arm to blink blearily at the dim, sinister forest in front of me.

Already, the dragon has shrunk down into?—

Baelfire.

I would recognize that naked, golden-tan, muscular body anywhere, but right now it’s collapsed on the forest floor, unmoving.

Distantly, I hear ravens cawing loudly as they approach. Ice crackles up the trunks of the nearest trees as snow starts to swirl through the air despite no clouds overhead.

I ignore all of that as I drag myself out of the snow to Baelfire’s side, dropping beside him. He’s in horrible condition. I’m trembling with the urge to touch his warm, smooth skin, check him for harm, and see his contagious smile.

“Bael?” I whisper, hope clogging my throat.

But when his head turns, that hope hardens and sinks into my stomach.

His eyes are still the slitted, amber eyes of a dragon. There’s no recognition there as he hisses like an animal and snaps at my fingers, barely missing them.

This isn’t my mate. It’s still the feral thing that’s replaced him.

“Maven!” Everett shouts somewhere nearby.

A second later, he comes to a sharp stop at my side. For a moment, he stares in shock at Baelfire in human form. It’s not hard to gather that this is a first since I “died” six months ago.

The large raven I gave the order to flutters over and settles on my shoulder, pecking almost playfully at my torn sweatshirt. In the cold moonlight, I catch a flash of loathing on Everett’s scarred face before he lifts his hand toward the raven to freeze it.

“Don’t,” I tell him. “I sent it to get you.”

He goes still. “You…” Then he looks at the raven again, looking unexpectedly sick to his stomach. “You mean…you’re the reason for all the ravens? And the whole time, I—gods, I’ve been…”

I’ll talk to him later about my apparent connection to ravens. I barely have time to swerve away when Not-Baelfire tries to bite me again. That snaps Everett out of his miniature existential crisis, and he promptly freezes the shifter from the neck down.

Not-Baelfire snarls and hisses, saliva dripping from his mouth as he gnashes his teeth and struggles uselessly against the ice. When it’s clear he’s not making progress, he makes a strange coughing sound deep in his throat before breathing pure blue fire into the air, nearly singeing Everett’s soot-streaked coat.

“Fucking asshole,” the elemental mutters.

But he can’t fool me. There’s more sadness than malice in his voice.

Seeing my mate like this is making me doubt. Maybe I’m too late. Maybe he really has been replaced by this beast. I needed to return sooner to rescue Baelfire from becoming this, and I don’t even know why I was held up in Paradise for six fucking months. If I had just?—

“Stop,” Everett says gently, crouching and cradling my face so I’ll look at him. He appears as exhausted as I feel, but his pale gaze is earnest. “We’ll get him back, Snowdrop. We’ll get all of them back.”

I breathe out shakily, straightening my shoulders. He’s right. Panicking is a waste of time, and I’m too fucking exhausted to spiral further.

“How is the stronghold after the attack?” I ask.

“They’re still putting out the fires, but the worst of the damage happened when he took you. Obviously, we won’t be staying in my old professor’s apartment anymore. We’ll stay in our quintet’s apartment.”

I hesitate. “People saw me.”

“Anyone who saw you was frozen when the dragon took you. By accident,” he tacks on, but it’s clearly an afterthought.

“Did Douglas survive?” I grimace as I shift my broken arm slightly.

Everett’s attention zips to my injury. He swears and glares murderously down at Not-Baelfire. “Yeah, he’s alive. I’m taking you back to be healed as soon as fucking possible. Then I’ll come back for Baelfire.”

“We’re not leaving him like this.”

“The hell we aren’t. This feral asshole just tried to kill you.”

I gesture with my good arm at the ice encapsulating him. “Might as well leave a sign on him that says Free Shifter Popsicle for the monsters craving a midnight snack.”

My ice elemental groans and rubs the unscarred half of his gorgeous face. “Okay. I’ll unfreeze his legs and freeze his mouth. You’ll need to help me drag him through these creepy woods. But so fucking help me, if something attacks us and you get any more injured, I’ll?—”

“Freeze me from the neck down and lock me up,” I repeat his earlier threat as I get to my feet. “Fair enough. But we need to figure out how to keep him from shifting back. I don’t know what I did to him, but it may not last.”

Everett glances at Not-Baelfire with a sigh. “I know how we’ll keep him from shifting, but you won’t like it.”