Page 26 of Dragon’s Mate

M elissa

“What’s wrong with your wings?”

“What’s wrong with your legs?”

“Why do you have chicken feathers?”

“Where’s your scales?”

“Why are you so soft?”

“What’s your name?”

I am at the flight range where the dragonkin learn to fly. I am surrounded by young dragons who are all incredibly curious about me. I am not that much taller than most of them. Dragonkin are massive creatures, and even when they are young, they are massively tall.

We are all wearing harnesses around our chests, and there are long chains attached from the harness to tie points in the ground. We can walk around a bit, but we can’t go upward.

“Do we have to be chained like dogs?” I complain. I know I’m supposed to be fitting in, but how can I? They are all dragons, and I am a human with some kind of bird wings.

“Not like dogs,” the instructor says, his voice cold as the Arctic wind. “Like whelps at risk of snapping their necks in an unplanned flight. You might be the king’s mate, but here I am the ruler. Do you understand?”

“The king’s mate?”

“How old are you?”

“Humans age differently. They die at a hundred.”

“My little sister is a hundred and one,” one of the others says. “That’s so sad.”

Now they’re looking at me with pity.

“I’m going to live for a really long time,” I say.

“Enough chitchat. You are here to learn to fly, not to talk about little sisters and dead humans. My name is Instructor Wraith. You may call me Instructor, Sir, or whatever garbled series of pained sounds emerges for failing to call me Instructor or Sir.”

That’s a hell of an introduction, designed to intimidate. It works. Everybody falls silent as our new instructor walks along the length of us as we all stand in a row.

Instructor Wraith is a tall, lean dragonkin with the sort of demeanor that strongly suggests he should not be fucked with. It’s giving ‘high school principal who everybody likes, but nobody wants to cross’ vibes. He shimmers blue and green, cold colors that no doubt match his soul.

“Flying takes, strength, skill, and subtlety,” he says.

“At full speed, the merest flick of a wingtip can send you into a barrel roll. You have all seen trick fliers. You know what we are capable of. But we are not capable of any of it if we are not willing to master ourselves. Our impulses. Our feelings. An uncontrolled emotion can cause terrible turbulence and rip an airborne dragon apart.”

He looks at us all severely, as if we’ve disappointed him before we’ve even started. This is really activating all my authority issues all at once. Never thought I’d have to go back to school after leaving college. Never thought I’d do it in bondage.

“You will each step forward, extend your wings, and move them very slightly. You will not flap. You will not, under any circumstances, take off from the ground. Anybody who flies without permission will be grounded for the next lesson.”

I put up my hand, something I haven’t done in years. He looks at me, instantly irritated. I’d think his annoyance was because I am human and therefore an annoyance to most of the dragons, but I think he’s genuinely mad at everybody here already.

“Yes, human?”

I wonder when I’m going to get some respect. Not today, obviously. Dragon society doesn’t bestow honor on mates the way humans do. There is no first lady here. Everybody stands or falls on their own merits. So when Wraith looks at me, there’s no extra anything. No deference.

“I don’t know how to move my wings without taking off.”

He looks at me with an expression that is halfway between patient and annoyed.

“Flapping without taking off is kind of my whole problem,” I tell him. “I broke my leg, and one time I broke my wings.”

The others laugh. I already stood out by being human—and I’m not sure they really know what a human is. They know the word, but it doesn’t resonate. To them, I’m just a weird creature.

“Step forward, extend your wings, and put just enough power into their movement to move them without moving your body. It is a simple enough instruction, your highness.”

He says your highness as if I am a spoiled royal brat.

I’ve heard people use that tone with Tempest before, when they really wanted to do something terrible to her, or say something mean, but they knew they couldn’t because of who she was—or more accurately, who her father was.

I’ve become the spoiled little brat she always wanted me to be.

She’d be proud. Or horrified. I miss her.

I try to do exactly what he says. I get the sense of it. I’m supposed to put just a little bit of energy into the matter, but the truth of it is I can’t do that. Every time I extend my wings, I get swept upward almost immediately.

“No!” The instructor’s voice is sharp as he follows me up on my accidental flight, reaches for me, grabs me by the chain and drags me back down to the ground. “I said no taking off.”

“Sorry!”

Everyone laughs.

“You may be the king’s mate, but I expect you to behave and follow the same rules as everyone else. Follow instructions. To the letter. Or you will end up in detention.”

“ Ohhhhhhhhhh uhmumumumumum… ” The class makes a chorusing sound at his declaration.

“I really don’t know how not to take off.”

“If only we had a class before the absolute beginner’s class,” he says. “But we do not. So you will have to attempt to follow directions.”

Ornix

I have been resting on the bed, not napping, but recalibrating.

I am sending my energies out in the effort to sense the seal.

Its disappearance really does not make any sense.

It is too powerful of an artifact to hide itself from me.

I felt it in the kobold den, and I think I will feel it again. I just need enough peace and quiet to…

“Argh!”

My mate slams the door, which takes all her effort and even then only manages to be a slightly deeper thud than usual. It’s the thought that counts, though, and I feel her energy from across the room. She comes storming in, stamping her small human feet with as much fury as she can muster.

“How was your first lesson?” I drawl the question, knowing what is going to burst forth from her.

“That Wraith! He was so rude to me,” she curses. “He’s insufferable.”

I’ve not seen her in this particular mood before. Frustrated over a mundane inconvenience, dealing with someone else’s authority, and clearly hating it.

It’s quite cute.

“I remember when he taught me. He was demanding, but that’s because there’s a lot at stake when it comes to flying. Come here.”

She flops down onto the bed, tired and annoyed, her wings safely tucked away behind her shoulders for the moment. Our kind undergoes entire shape changes when we shift forms. We do not need to work out where our wings are going to go. She is still struggling with the inconvenience.

I pick up one of her little feathers as it attempts to waft into my mouth.

She’s shedding them all over, not intentionally, but because she cannot help it.

This wing situation is such an adorable mess.

She shouldn’t have them, but she does. And they should probably have scales, not feathers, but who knows how that works.

There are more mysteries in this realm than any of us are truly aware of.

The humans have their mechanical mysteries, not knowing how things work. They try to break things down, take them apart. Dragons do things differently. We move with the mysteries. We become them. Melissa is starting to do the same.

“And he talks to me like I’m spoiled or expecting special treatment. Like it’s my fault I’m human. It’s not my fault I’m human.” She keeps complaining.

“Did you learn anything?”

“Of course not. He was talking about self-control and such. How am I supposed to have self-control when I’m not even allowed to flap a little?”

“I’m sure you’ll learn it.”

She looks up at me, resting on my chest with her chin on her crossed hands. “Why won’t you teach me?”

“You want me to teach you to fly?”

“Yes, I would so much rather you than him. At least when you’re mean and grumpy it might be hot. I don’t think that guy has ever had sex. Does he even know what it means?”

“Teaching flying involves strictness and sternness. I imagine you had enough of that from me already, no?”

“Why can’t any of you just relax?”

“Because when we just relax , people have a tendency to sprout wings, steal horses, uncover lost artifacts, and fall from the sky all in the course of twenty-four hours. You are chaos incarnate, my mate, and there is absolutely no relaxing around you.”

“Well, I don’t like the sound of that at all,” she frowns. “That’s what you think of me? You think I’m a big chaotic mess?”

“You are not a big mess, but you are chaotic. The truth is often hard to hear, but you knew it already, didn’t you.

You knew it when you were racking up fines in college, and before then too, I’d bet.

You’ve always needed some semblance of real order, and now you have it.

So yes, you will attend flying instruction, because it is good for you. ”

Melissa

I suddenly feel like a little girl who doesn’t want to go to school. It’s strange, because I never felt that way in the past. I loved going to school. It was where my friends were, and where adults had to at least pretend they cared.

All the feelings Ornix stirs in me feel new.

He makes me want him in a way I’ve never wanted anyone.

He makes me want to run, because I know that he has already changed me forever, and he’s going to change me even more before he is done.

He makes me want to stay, because underneath it all, I like the way I am changing.

He wraps his arms around me and snugs me tighter, giving me some physical comfort after all I have suffered in the flying class. It’s like being cuddled by a heater. Just being in contact with him makes me relax.

“I like seeing you like this,” he says. “This feels very real.”