Page 25 of Dreams and Dragon Wings (Clean Fairytales for Adults #2)

Aurelia

Now

“ B ene!” It is Brisa who shouts this time. But her warning comes too late.

A shield of Spirit snaps into place around me the split second before something slams into us hard . Fresh pain thrums through me as Bene spirals out of control. But it is not my pain.

It is his.

With the next heave of his wings, Bene rights himself and darts off into the night, racing away from Spindleton, away from our assailant.

I blink against the downpour and shoot a look over my shoulder, struggling to see what is chasing us. I only have a vague impression of black scales, slick with rain. Of crimson eyes burning through the darkness. Looking straight at us.

Straight at me .

A pressure grows within my mind—a pressure I recognize from the last time Bene probed too deep without permission. Except this time, it is not Bene trying to read my thoughts.

It is him .

Terror wraps itself around my heart like bands of iron, squeezing tight, as a dark voice ghosts across the edges of my mind. It greets me in a low, rasping purr:

“Hello, pet.”

My dragon king’s thunderous roar fills the night as if he is aware of the other’s attempts to invade my thoughts. I flatten myself against Bene’s back and will him to fly all the faster.

I don’t know who this new enemy is. I don’t want to know. All I know is that, for some reason, he is here for me and I just want us to escape before I have one more man warring over me.

Am I truly that important?

Bene’s voice is but a hoarse whisper within my mind. Muffled. Distant. Strained.

“ Vaei .”

I imagine a wall slamming into place around my thoughts, a fortress meant to keep out all others save for him. If only I knew how to weave—if only I could touch the glittering strands of magic that linger just out of reach—I could be of some actual use here.

Like Bene’s aunties.

Their weaves light up the night sky as they try to slow our pursuer. Weaves of Earth, Spirit, Mind, Water, Air.

But I can touch nothing . I feel nothing but the Aether swirling all about us with each beat of Bene’s wings.

The Aether .

My eyes clench shut as I try to drown out all else. The rain. The thunder. The agony radiating from Bene’s soul. As I try to focus on just the Aether. On what words it might bring.

Please , I pray to the Great Weaver, biting back another scream as Bene dives and swoops in ways that make my stomach twist. Guide me, and I will listen. Show me the way, and I will walk it. Help me help Bene. Please .

The Aether does not speak, but a thought immediately flashes through my mind the moment I finish my prayer. Not a thought borne of Bene. Nor the dragon pursuing us. Not even a thought borne of myself.

But a thought from Him , the Great Weaver:

The Living Waters.

It strikes me like lightning and crystallizes in my thoughts, so clear to me now. Even though I have never been to Drakara nor that holy place, I know I must get Bene to the Living Waters—the source of all magic, the birthplace of the Corona Ignis.

But how?

I chance a glance backward and immediately regret it. The black dragon is even closer now, swiftly devouring what distance remains. Ghostly claws scrape against my mental defenses again, trying to break down my walls, to invade my thoughts.

Bene, you must hurry , I whisper, speaking directly to my dragon king now. No, not to Bene.

But to his Shade.

I have an idea. It is a mad idea, but an idea nonetheless.

This dragon seeks to take me from you. He wants to consume me for his own. My stomach churns as I insist, But I’m yours to consume. I belong to you. Only you.

A fresh roar thunders from Bene’s throat as he surges forward, flying with renewed strength. The rain stings my eyes, blinding me. The wind rushes past, threatening to rip me free from my saddle.

I press myself as tightly against Bene’s back as I can and cling to the harness Glorana wove for me until my knuckles whiten. Until my hands ache. A final projectile soars through the air, harmlessly sailing past us.

And then we shoot over Spindleton’s walls. My heart flutters. We are free.

At last, nothing but farmlands and open country unfurls before us.

We can do this, Bene , I urge him, speaking to whatever part of my dragon king is in control now. Though the Door lies an entire kingdom away, on the east side of Briarhold while we still cut across the west, I encourage: We are almost there.

“No!” Brisa screams from just behind us, a frantic edge to her voice.

I do not even have time to look before something strikes us hard. Something sharp and heavy. Something wreathed in threads of Air and Spirit. The very bolt we had just avoided, now flung back at us from behind.

It pierces Bene’s wing straight through and slices across my left calf, ripping through the silk of my gown to rend flesh and muscle. I scream as liquid fire burns in the wake of the bolt’s passing.

I scream again when the powerful, pearlescent dragon beneath me suddenly shifts midair and becomes a mere man again.

A man with a great, bleeding wound now just above his left shoulderblade.

The flames ringing the Corona Ignis flicker weakly, as if they stand on the verge of being snuffed out with the next gust of wind.

We are in free fall, plummeting toward the river that borders Spindleton. Panic claws at my chest, desperate to be loosed. Those tumultuous waters rush closer. But I cannot swim.

I cannot swim.

I cannot swim .

Where are the aunties? We need them. We need help .

“Bene!” is all I have time to scream before I strike the river feet first, with Bene not far behind. The impact rattles my bones. Water rushes in through my mouth and nose. I struggle, frantically kicking, but going nowhere beyond down. Down into the deep. The dark.

I cannot breathe.

I need to breathe.

My lungs burn.

My mind screams.

Just when my vision begins to fade, something seizes me around the waist. The Water itself. And something else.

Bene .

In a daze, I stare into familiar eyes flickering between shades of sapphire and ruby as we shoot back toward the surface, wrapped in threads of Water and Air. Together, we arc out of the river and crash onto the muddy shore, landing side by side.

Water spews from my mouth, leaving my throat raw. I cough, drinking in deep of the night air. The rain still falls, heavy droplets beating against my back as I roll to my hands and knees and try to find the strength to rise.

Alive . We’re alive.

But for how long?

My skin prickles. My senses warn me to run again. Danger . Danger is coming.

No. Danger is already here.

Shivering, panting for breath, I stare through the downpour as a pair of dark boots attached to long legs stroll into my line of sight. I flinch backward, my hands slipping over wet grass and sodden earth.

My eyes lift, quickly skimming upward along the lines of the towering stranger before me. Strong, sleek, with impossibly green eyes, black hair, and a beard streaked with gray, he carries himself like a man out for a casual stroll.

Save for the fact that he is completely dry, as if the storm cannot touch him.

And the fact that I know at once he is no mere man.

He is a dragon.

He does not smile. He does not mock. He does not so much as even speak.

But I feel him prowling on the outskirts of my mind all the same. Looking for an opening. Testing my defenses.

Fear. Anger. Desperation. All three sweep over me, radiating through my bond with Bene.

Vines burst from the wet earth and snap taut around the stranger’s legs, rooting him in place before he can take another step closer.

I scramble backward and finally lurch to my feet. My gown hangs heavy, soaked as it is. It weighs me down. The silk tangles around my legs. My heart hammers like a war drum, pounding in my ears.

Brisa and Glorana flit into view. They drive through the storm, the light wreathing their forms flickering, weak. But still, they fly between the two men. Still, they spin their weaves.

Glorana with her weave of Earth she casts over the gaping hole in Bene’s chest.

Brisa with her weave of Air and Water she spins around the stranger, binding him in ice from the legs down.

Bene , I implore along the link between us. Please, let’s run . I don’t know if we can. But surely trying to escape is better than just standing here, waiting to die.

Bene shudders where he stands several paces away, his head bowed but his eyes ablaze. His focus all on this latest threat.

He doesn’t answer me. He doesn’t so much as glance my way.

But his vines will not hold this creature. Nor will Brisa’s ice. I know this in my soul. I sense it on the wind. Power pulses off the stranger in noxious waves—oily and thick, dangerous and wrong .

For a moment, the air before him shimmers silver, and suddenly I see through the veil of Mind overlaying his form, hiding the fact that he is not imprisoned by Bene’s vines at all.

Perhaps he never was. He truly stands several feet away, his attention fixated on me and me alone through the downpour.

It is all an illusion.

As my eyes meet his, a small smile finally tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Clever girl.” Those words sound just beyond the curve of my ear, carried there on a delicate thread of Air.

I stagger backward, a scream catching in my throat. I try to call out to Bene, to warn him of the danger, but I cannot.

I stand frozen, useless.

I can’t move. I can’t speak.

Not even when I spy the stranger deftly pulling in threads of magic almost faster than my eye can track. Not even when he flings the silver and gold weave tinged with a hint of black directly at me.

Like an arrow aiming to pierce my heart.

Time slows.

Terror floods my soul.

“ Naei !” my dragon king roars, lunging in front of me before the weave can strike—a living shield once more.

Brisa and Glorana follow, loyal to the end. But Velda is still nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she is already dead.

Or perhaps she is a useless coward, just like me.